Sin With a Scoundrel (The Husband Hunters Club 4)

“What are you doing here? If he sees you . . .”

“I don’t care if he sees me,” Sutton growled. He picked up a snuffbox from a collection on a side table and tossed it into the air, catching it neatly and then slipping it into his pocket. “He’s a bastard who thinks he can treat me as he pleases, well he can’t. This started off as an equal partnership, and now he’s the one giving all the orders. Too bad. I don’t take orders.”

Branson couldn’t believe he was hearing this, but at the same time he was deriving a certain enjoyment from it. He’d also been on the receiving end of the Captain’s fury so he understood all too well the effect it had.

“Heard you took a potshot at that bastard Arlington,” Sutton added with a vicious smile. “Pity you missed.”

“I didn’t miss,” Branson retorted. “I mean, I didn’t want to kill him, just give him a scare.”

Sutton shook his head in disgust. “And he says I’m a fool. Who are you going to shoot at next? The wife? I hear she’s a nice piece, not averse to a bit of rough.”

“I wouldn’t harm a lady,” Branson protested huffily.

“Come on then; you’ve started now, who’s next? I’d love to see his face when you do it. Finish off the lot of them, I reckon, then we wouldn’t have the bother, would we?”

Branson had turned thoughtful. “I might take a shot at Eversham, he’s a swine. Had me in for more questions before, threatening me, shouting in my face. What gives him the right to treat me like that, eh? Yes,” he smiled sourly, “I’d like to put a bullet between his eyes.”

There was a sound over near the bookshelves, and both men froze, staring in that direction, but a moment later a gust of wind rattled the windows and a draft set the pages of an open book on a nearby table fluttering. They relaxed, and Sutton pocketed another snuffbox.

“I’m going,” he said. “His Highness wants me to return the pearls I stole. Seems that these days it goes against his moral code to steal. As I’m going to have to give them back, I needed to be reimbursed.” He patted his bulging pocket.

Branson snorted a laugh. “How are you going to get out?” he asked.

“Same way I got in, through the window.”

Sutton opened it and slipped out, vanishing into the darkness and the rain. Branson waited a moment, and then he left by the door.

Tina’s heart was beating so hard she had been terrified they would hear it. She’d knelt down to pull out a book from the bottom shelf and then became immersed in its pages, sinking down onto the Turkish rug and forgetting where she was.

Until the men began speaking.

At first she’d thought Mr. Branson was speaking to another guest, but then she’d heard what they were saying. Understanding had come at once. Mr. Branson had shot Sir Henry, and now he was planning to shoot Richard. Her aching heart was momentarily forgotten—she might not like him very much anymore, but she wasn’t about to stand by and see him killed.

The book had slipped from her hands and the two men had stopped and she was certain they would find her. As she waited, trembling, she thought of her family and, yes, she did think of Richard. Would he be sorry when her body was discovered lying over a copy of A Sultan’s Harem?

But then the windows had rattled, and everything was all right again. The men had left, and the room was empty. But still she took her time. She inched her way cautiously around the bookshelves to the door. With a sigh of relief she glanced behind her, just to be sure.

He was standing outside the window, his wet hair plastered to his head, his cold pale blue eyes staring in at her. Like a nightmare. He was the most frightening person she’d ever seen, and as she stood, frozen to the spot, he began to open the window.

With a scream, Tina turned and flung herself at the door, fumbling at the knob and managing to open it and then running. She hardly noticed Branson, his face white and shocked in the shadows; all she could th

ink of was the nightmare creature at the window. He could be behind her, and there was only one person she could think of who would save her—it didn’t even occur to her that her savior was now a cheat and a liar, and she hated him. Clinging to the banister she hurled herself up the staircase toward Sir Henry’s rooms and the safety of Richard’s arms.

Chapter 31

“Sir Henry and Mr. Eversham are in the study, miss.”

The footman gave her a curious look. Tina knew she wasn’t at her best but tried to keep her emotions inside just a little bit longer. She hid her trembling hands behind her back.

“I need to see them.”

“They asked not to be disturbed,” the footman said, with the air of one used to diverting pesky visitors from his master.

Tina decided then that she would have to be rude, very rude. She gave him a push, catching him by surprise, and flung open the door before he could stop her, bursting in. Three men were gathered about a huge oak desk and they looked up, startled, at her abrupt entry.

“Tina?” Frowning, Richard moved toward her.

Distraught, Tina tried to speak, but she was suddenly too breathless to get a word out and leaned against the back of a chair, feeling faint.