“Do you?” Maria replied with a note of desperation. “Miss, beg pardon, but I think you are being very, very foolish. This man is not to be trusted. What would Lady Carol say? Shall I tell her, is that what you want?”
Tina stopped walking and turned to face her maid. “Of course I don’t want you to tell Lady Carol. Maria, I must marry Lord Horace. You know why. Do I have to speak it aloud, here, in the street?”
Maria calmed herself, as if suddenly aware of interested passersby. “No, miss, you don’t have to do that. I know why. But that does not explain what has been happening between you and Mr. Eversham.”
Mr. Eversham who, Maria now knew from Archie, was not at all what he seemed.
“I am learning from Mr. Eversham. He is teaching me how to win over a man like Horace. That is all. It is purely a business arrangement.”
“And is that why your hair is all falling down and your cheeks all flushed? No, Miss Tina, do not try to flummox me.”
Tina pursed her mouth into a stubborn line. “I am not trying to do anything of the sort. If I am a little flushed, it is because I am learning how to kiss. There! Now you are shocked. But how can I ever win a man like Horace, a man of the world, if I don’t learn to be the sort of woman he wants?”
Maria thought that was probably true, but Lord Horace was a nasty piece of work, and she longed to tell Tina so. But what would that achieve? Even if Tina believed her—which was extremely doubtful—she would still feel she had to marry him, for her family’s sake. No, Maria decided, best to keep that particular piece of information to herself for the moment. It might be useful later on, as a final effort to halt this madness.
“Miss Tina, I am still very worried.”
“Well please don’t be, Maria. I am perfectly able to take care of myself.”
That brought a halt to the conversation, and they said no more on the journey home although Tina remained anxious and upset, and Maria remained anxious and troubled. Neither of them wanted to fall out with the other so it seemed better to remain silent.
When they reached Mallory Street, Tina learned that her father wanted to speak to her. With a warning glance at Maria, she removed her gloves and bonnet and went into her father’s study.
Her first thought had been that he had somehow found out about her visits to Mr. Eversham, but thankfully his smile as she entered his domain put her mind at ease.
“Tina, come in, sit down.”
She noticed there was a half-filled glass of brandy beside him. It wasn’t her father’s way to drink before the evening meal, and she cast a quick glance over his countenance.
He looked pale, and there was a worried frown on his face. But then there always was, these days.
“You had a pleasant afternoon out, Tina? You went to visit Anne, didn’t you?”
Tina hadn’t done anything of the sort, but she made some meaningless noises. It wasn’t really a lie, and her father wasn’t listening anyway; he was far too involved in his own thoughts.
“My dear,” he said at last, “I think you know the straits we’re in at the moment. All my fault. I was foolish enough to believe in someone who I thought was a friend. Now we are all but done for.”
Shocked by his plain speaking, Tina reached for his hand. “Father, no! Surely everything will come about.”
He shook his head although his fingers clasped hers. “Not a chance of it,” he said with grim cheerfulness. “We are done for. Your mother’s money is gone, most of it, and the house will have to go, and all the furniture. We will have to find somewhere smaller, cheaper, and well away from our friends. They probably won’t want to know us anyway, and your mother won’t want to run into them accidentally on the street. The shame would be too much for her to bear.”
It sounded grim indeed, and for a moment, Tina could think of nothing to say.
“Your mother has mentioned something about your being keen on young Gilfoyle,” he went on awkwardly. “I just wanted to hear the facts from your own lips. You know how she tends to muddle things up.”
Tina felt her heart sink a little but forced herself to smile and sit up straighter. “I do have hopes in that direction, Father. He hasn’t said anything yet, but I am determined to give him every hint that I am amenable to marriage.”
Her father appeared relieved. “That is good news.” He sighed. “And now Charles seems to have taken a shine to Anne. That would be a good match if her parents allow it. They are rather strict, and I’m not sure they approve of poor Charles. Still, both of you are making strides toward marriage with a, eh, suitable partner. I am very happy to hear it.”
“I’m glad, Papa.”
He shifted his brandy glass an inch to the left. “But Horace hasn’t proposed, has he?”
“No, Papa. Not yet.”
Her father sighed again. “Even if you were married tomorrow, it probably wouldn’t make any difference, Tina; it is too late. Although in a month or so, if our debts were settled, we might be able to claw something back. But I can’t get my hopes up. Very soon we will have to leave this house, where your mother was born and her father was born and his before him. What a mess.”
“I’m so sorry, Papa.”