Sin With a Scoundrel (The Husband Hunters Club 4)

“I agree with Lady Isabelle,” Horace murmured at Tina’s side. “It would be the very devil to marry a woman one didn’t like, just for her fortune or her connections. How would one ever go home, knowing she was there?”

She flashed him a smile, feeling too shaken up to say anything. What would Horace think of her if he knew what she was planning? Suddenly, she wished she could sink beneath the table and vanish completely.

“What do you think, Mr. Eversham?” Horace raised his voice. He must have known he was causing mischief, but he didn’t care. As Tina well knew, Horace had always enjoyed causing mischief.

Richard Eversham smiled politely, but his eyes were no longer warm. “I think if marriages always began smoothly, then I would have a great deal of spare time on my hands.”

There was a ripple of shocked laughter, and Lady Carol grew even more stony faced. To have Mr. Eversham to dinner was bad enough, but to discuss his scandalous occupation was worse. Tina shot Horace a quelling glance, but he deliberately ignored it.

“I do not think all the gentlemen you help to their happy event are madly in love with their ladies, Mr. Eversham. I think they often have far more pragmatic considerations at play.”

“Perhaps they do, but I’ve yet to see a marriage I had some small part in making fail to thrive.”

The dinner guests were agog. Rattled, Lady Carol began a conversation about the weather, but Horace only spoke more loudly.

“Do you mean to tell me that everyone you’ve dealt with is deliriously happy? Come now, Eversham, you must have some failures. Admit it, some gentlemen are simply lacking in the ability, or more likely the will, to make any lady happy.”

Richard considered. Tina held her breath, appalled and yet eager to hear what was said next. Horace was being awful, but Richard wasn’t a man to be easily browbeaten.

“I don’t consider anyone beyond my help. I make it a point never to turn away a potential client.” His gaze slid briefly to Tina. “Please feel free to make an appointment, Lord Gilfoyle.”

There was a murmur of shocked amusement.

Horace flushed angrily. “I wasn’t speaking about myself.”

“Oh? You seem so interested in my, eh, vocation, I thought you must be having difficulty persuading your chosen lady to marry you.”

“You are mistaken,” Horace spoke coldly. “I have no need to use you. I think anyone who does must be a poor sort of fellow indeed.”

Richard smiled and said nothing, and his lack of answer seemed to infuriate Horace even more. Horace didn’t like to be bested, and he’d been bested tonight.

Sir Henry frowned, glancing between the two men, but Lady Isabelle was enthralled. “My goodness!” She clapped her hands like a child. “How generous of you to help others to find love and happiness, Mr. Eversham.”

“My dear, this is not a subject for dinner conversation,” Sir Henry said. “Mr. Eversham’s personal life is his own business, and we have no business interrogating him in this manner.”

“I don’t mind answering,” Richard spoke evenly, as if he responded to such intimate questions all the time. “No, Lady Isabelle, it is not entirely generosity that drives me to help others to the altar, but it is kind of you to think so.”

Another ripple of shocked laughter. This was certainly a night the guests would remember, and not for the reasons Lady Carol wanted it remembered. She forced her way into the conversation, her cheeks flushed with anger.

“It is the parents who must make decisions in regard to marriage, not the young lady or gentleman. And certainly not you, Mr. Eversham,” she snapped. “I cannot imagine any parent willingly handing over a child to an unsuitable partner, no matter how much the word ‘love’ is bandied about. An ill-judged match could taint an entire family, and that would never do. Love is all very well, Lady Isabelle, but there are limits.”

Lady Isabelle looked mutinous, but Sir Henry’s frown prevented a hasty retort.

A second wife, Lady Isabelle was some twenty and more years younger than Sir Henry, and Tina wondered whether Isabelle had married him for love. Or did she have a lover somewhere, a man more her own age and opinions, someone she hurried to in the dark of the night, when Sir Henry was at his club.

And would Tina do the same, in her position, if she were married to a man she didn’t love? She gave a little shudder. She didn’t want to live a secret life; she didn’t want to have to.

Mr. Little was watching her again. Tina was beginning to find his constant regard irritating. When he leaned toward her to speak, only politeness prevented her from turning her head away. “Has Lord Horace some grudge against Mr. Eversham?”

Unfortunately Horace overheard. “The man is a rogue who has no place in civilized company,” he said, at least lowering his voice. “And I do not like the way he has been ogling Miss Smythe.”

Shocked, Tina stared at him. Ogling her? She had not noticed him ogling her, but then she’d been keeping her gaze firmly away from him, apart from that one moment when . . . Had Horace seen that? Was he anxious for her reputation?

Or could he possibly be jealous?

The main course arrived to interrupt her cogitations, and roast pigeon, perfectly cooked, with all the trimmings, was sufficiently distracting to halt the guests’ conversation. By the time it began again the topic had drifted to more mundane matters.

Over the meringues and trifle, Tina noticed how well Charles and Anne seemed to be getting along, lost as they were in each other’s eyes. She was surprised and then wondered why she should be. Just because Charles was her brother didn’t mean he couldn’t be of interest to a beautiful heiress like Anne. He was rather handsome, and he had an engaging way of smiling and turning a joke upon himself.