“Was singing one of the accomplishments taught at your finishing school?” asked Little.
“One of many,” Tina teased.
Neither of them seemed to know how to respond.
Richard would have known; if she’d given him that provocative look, he’d have known exactly what to do. She was a lovely woman. Far too good for Gilfoyle or Little. Whether they were villains or innocents made no difference; she deserved better.
Eventually someone else was persuaded to display her piano playing, and Horace rose with Tina, while the young lady with the red hair led Little away. Tina lingered by the doors onto the terrace, engaging Horace in conversation.
Richard could see what she was up to. She had it in her mind to take Horace outside. It was a mild enough evening, and with everyone else busy, this was the perfect opportunity. Half of him was urging her on, but the other half . . . the other half didn’t like it at all.
Soft music was drifting on the evening air, and there was a strong scent of lilies from the garden. Tina was well aware that Lady Carol had had to let the gardener go, but as yet there was no sign that the area was untended. No doubt it would soon take on the appearance of a jungle, and Horace would gasp in shock, but for the moment he seemed more interested in her.
There was something in his expression. A mixture of puzzlement and curiosity, as if she had changed in some way, and he couldn’t fathom what it was. Or perhaps it was his perception of her that had changed.
Her heartbeat quickened. Were Richard Eversham’s lessons working? Had Horace begun to see her as the desirable and passionate woman she longed to be? And, perhaps more importantly, as a future wife?
“Tina,” he said, his voice dropping lower, as he moved toward her.
Breathlessly, she waited.
He took her gloved hand in his and placed it in the crook of his elbow. “There,” he said, with satisfaction, “the path looks a little uneven. Shall we walk a little?”
“If you like.”
He spoiled it by patting her hand in a paternal fashion and led her down the stairs onto the path that wound into the garden. The air was cooler here, and Tina could hear the voices from the open windows behind them. Lady Isabelle was speaking loudly again, this time about a ball she’d attended where two of the guests had eloped, while Sir Henry attempted to moderate her enthusiasm for the idea.
“I do not think that was a good match,” Horace spoke abruptly. “Lady Isabelle and Sir Henry Arlington. I don’t know how he puts up with her.”
Tina had wondered, too, but perversely, on hearing Horace say it, she wanted to stick up for Isabelle. “She has strong beliefs, Horace, there’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Isn’t there? I prefer my women less strong in their beliefs, and certainly a bit more biddable. I can’t imagine Lady Isabelle ever being very easy company, can you, Tina?”
“Perhaps they get on very well together when they are alone.”
“I think they probably go to opposite ends of the house and stay there.”
“That does not sound like a recipe for a happy marriage.”
Horace laughed at her glum tone. “I don’t know. If it suits them, then it might be a very good recipe. Not everyone is the same, Tina, you should know that. Not everyone is going to end up in a nursery-tale romance.” He smiled down at her. “I remember that when you were a little girl you were determined to find the frog who was a prince. Do you remember?”
Tina tried not to, an
d she shuddered now. “No,” she said stubbornly.
He laughed again. “Yes, you do.” He paused and turned to face her. “You know you do.”
Tina realized he’d led her just far enough along the path so that they were out of sight of the windows. Clever Horace. He took her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. “Warmer now?”
“Yes.” Her heart beat faster.
“I always enjoy your company, Tina.”
“Do you? I wonder if you do, Horace. We have known each other so long, and yet there is always more to discover, don’t you think?”
He smiled. He bent closer.
Was he about to kiss her? Then why was he taking so long.