Sin With a Scoundrel (The Husband Hunters Club 4)

Tina took another step and almost stumbled. Richard was rich? Then why . . . ? But she put that fact aside and concentrated on Maria. If she wanted her questions answered, then she would have to force her maid—who’d suddenly developed an uncharacteristic reticence—to answer them.

“Then what is it you know? Come, Maria, you’d better tell me. I didn’t think we had any secrets.”

Maria gave her a skeptical look. “You are the one with secrets, Miss Tina.”

“Well I don’t have any now, do I? Come, Maria, please.”

Her maid wavered. “I promised Archie,” she said with a shake of her head, and then sighed and capitulated. “He works for Sir Henry.”

“Archie?”

“No, Mr. Eversham. Well, Archie too, but Mr. Eversham is an important man to the government. He hunts out anarchists and the like, people who might wish England badly. Archie says he’s a hero, but I don’t think he would be a very safe man to fall in love with, miss. And he’s dedicated himself to his work, so he won’t be getting married or setting up house. In fact he’s made some silly sort of promise swearing to remain unattached.”

“Oh.”

Maria eyed her mistress cautiously as Tina walked rather stiffly over to the window seat and sat down, heavily, as if her strings had been cut, and stared out of the room.

“So he isn’t really what he says he is? That charming, careless attitude . . . it’s all a lie? The work he does helping gentlemen seduce ladies . . . is that a lie, too?”

“I think it is a way of discovering people’s secrets, so he can use them to do his work.”

Tina felt herself go hot and then cold.

So he’d used her. How he must have enjoyed it when she came to him for help, believing he was what he said he was, believing him. And he was still lying to her. What had he said? He’d made a promise and he couldn’t marry until it was fulfilled, so he couldn’t take her virginity.

Well that was a lie because he had taken her virginity. And anyway he was married to his work.

Not that she wanted to marry him. He could be as rich as Midas, and she wouldn’t marry him, not now, not ever. He’d lied to her, toyed with her, and she’d trusted him.

“Thank you for telling me, Maria,” she said calmly, as if her heart weren’t one big ache in her chest. “I hope Archie isn’t cross with you.”

Maria was watching her anxiously. “I should have told you before . . . before things went so far, miss. I’m sorry.”

“Well, never mind.”

“Miss”—Maria put a gentle hand on Tina’s shoulder—“you must not think this is the end of the world. Men, they are like dandelion fluff, they come and go, and there will always be more of them to blow away on the breeze.”

Tina managed a smile. “I’m sure you’re right. Now, I might just spend a moment alone before I go down to supper. Thank you, Maria, I’ll call you if I need you.”

Maria hesitated, clearly wanting to stay, and then she nodded and hurried from the room, closing the door behind her.

Tina allowed her body to slump a little, bowing her head, feeling the pain spreading from her heart to her throat and her head, where a headache was forming.

It had been a wonderful weekend, and she should remember that, remember the good things and not the bad. In years to come, it would not even matter that Richard Eversham had played her for a silly fool, and she would look back on this moment with the wisdom of age and . . .

Cry?

That wasn’t what she’d planned, but the tears were already filling her eyes and spilling over her lashes to trickle down her cheeks. It seemed pointless to fight them, so she let them come and even indulged in some sobbing and wailing and pounding the cushions with clenched fists. Eventually she felt a little better and composed herself.

After a time she felt able to go downstairs. She didn’t think she’d appear at supper after all, that would be asking too much, but she might search out the library and find a good book she could bring back to her room and lose herself in.

Something to take her away from her problems and make her forget she ever knew a man called Richard Eversham.

It occurred to her that might not even be his name. If he was working for the government, he might be using a false name and actually be called something like Ogden. Or Aloysius Hogfish. She managed a weak smile, but at least that was better than more tears.

“I thought you’d gone!”

Branson came a few steps into the library, glancing nervously over his shoulder, before turning back to Sutton.