Sin With a Scoundrel: The Husband Hunters Club (24 page)

Chapter 33

“O
h, Archie!” Maria chuckled sympathetically. His curly hair was standing on end from the force of the wind, and his cheeks were bright red. Traveling outside the coach was rather closer to the elements than he was used to. Still, he gave her a grin and, with a glance over his shoulder to make sure they were not being observed, a hug.

They were in the stable yard of a coaching inn, awaiting a change of horses. The others were inside the inn partaking of some refreshments but Maria and Archie had quickly scoffed down their own food and drink so that they could spend a moment together, alone.

“My mistress is unhappy.” Maria sighed, speaking aloud the worry that was concerning her the most. “Your master has broken her heart, and I don’t think she’ll ever forgive him. And now Lord Horace’s being hauled off like a criminal. It is not right, Archie.”

“Maria, I know you told Miss Smythe about Mr. Eversham.”

Maria’s eyes widened, and then she gave a little fatalistic shrug. “I’m sorry. I had to tell her. I didn’t want to break my word to you, but—”

“No, no, I think I knew you’d have to tell her, eventually.”

Maria nodded unhappily, expecting him to accuse her of choosing Tina over him, thinking he wouldn’t understand.

Instead he surprised her.

“This is something they will have to sort out themselves. It isn’t up to us to mend it for them—if it can be mended.”

“I have looked after Miss Tina for many years, Archie.”

“And has she ever asked for your advice? Has she always listened to it?”

“Well . . . not always. She is a strong-willed young woman.”

“I thought so. Maria, let her make her own mistakes. You can’t always be there; you won’t always be there. You have your own life to lead now.”

She opened her mouth to argue, then met his eyes and decided against it. Archie was right. Miss Tina must travel her own path in life.

“I will not have a position as maid after this is over,” she informed him with a little wobble in her voice. “They cannot afford me any longer, so I will have to find another position, or . . . or I can go home. To Spain.”

There, she’d spoken the words that for so long she’d held close to her heart. Home. After all these years.

And yet, strangely, it didn’t have the same appeal as it used to. The vision in her head was still there, the shady groves and the baked plains, but they had the air of something a little old, a little tarnished. And here was Archie in front of her, alive and solid and so very real.

He touched her hand and lifted it to his lips.

“I love you, Maria. I know our relationship started as a job, a way of getting information, but I only had to look into your eyes and all that changed. I want to marry you.”

“Archie . . .”

“No, there’s no need to answer now. I know you want to go home. I wish I could go with you. Perhaps I will. Thumb my nose at the authorities, eh?”

Maria shook her head. She knew if she allowed him to go to Spain, she would be leading him into danger, and she couldn’t do that. This decision was one she alone had to make.

The silence between them lengthened, and soon it was time to climb back inside the coach.

R
ichard looked up as Tina entered the private parlor, she having been upstairs to the room he’d engaged, to brush her hair and tidy herself. He was alone now, with Will having returned to the coach, and Archie and Maria slipping off somewhere together.

Seeing him she started, made as if to turn and leave again, then changed her mind. Slowly she came to the fire and held out her hands. He could see the shadows under her eyes, the unhappy droop to her mouth, and wished he could make it all better. But that wasn’t going to happen, and he very much doubted she would allow him to try.

You are an expert in situations like this, Richard,
a voice in his head chastened him.
Who do gentlemen turn to when they have all but given up? You! And why do they come to you? Because you are an expert!

Richard wasn’t quite sure it was the same when it was the expert himself who was seeking to win his ladylove, but in one respect the inner voice was right: What did he have to lose?

“I’m sorry,” he said.

First rule of winning your ladylove: apologize. It doesn’t matter what you are apologizing for, or whether or not you’ve done anything wrong, just apologize, and keep apologizing.

“I’m so sorry, Tina.”

She gave him a suspicious glance before turning back to the fire. “What are you sorry for?”

“Everything.”

“I’d prefer to hear specifics,” she said coldly.

Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d hoped, but then if it were easy, wouldn’t everyone be deliriously happy all the time? She was watching him surreptitiously, trying to read his thoughts, and he put on his most charming and dependable face, aware it was spoiled a little by his black eye. Her response wasn’t promising.

“You lied to me, Richard. You’ve been lying to me from the first day we met. I find that impossible to forgive.”

Ah, so that was the problem. And he didn’t like the way she said “impossible.” Still, he wasn’t going to be put off by an adjective.

“I didn’t know you then, Tina. I was doing a job, a difficult and important job, a job I’d been doing two years. I couldn’t have imagined that the day you came to see me I was going to meet the woman who would mean more to me than . . . than anything else.”

Richard knew his ending was lame; he could have done better there. But Tina had that effect on him, turning his wits to water.

“I love you,” he blurted out.

Her eyebrows lifted, and she curled her lip. “
You love me?
I doubt it. I don’t think you have a clue what love means. And if I ever believed myself in love with you, then I’ve learned the error of my ways. You are a stranger, Richard.”

And with that she stalked from the room, leaving him sitting there by the fire, alone.

Richard groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, wincing when he touched his sore eye. Obviously he’d overestimated his expert abilities. This wasn’t going to be easy. But he refused to give up. He would win her back . . . after he’d saved her life.

S
utton watched the group at the inn from the shelter of the trees, eyes narrowed, sitting very still upon his horse, as if he were part of the landscape. Earlier he’d lured one of the stable boys into a quiet spot with a couple of shillings and asked questions; as he expected they were heading for Eversham’s estate in Kent. He intended to leave them now and ride on alone, taking the shorter cross-country route.

He had plans to make.

The woman had seen him, and he knew it would be her testimony that would hang him. He dismissed any threat offered by Branson—he was a fool, and everyone knew it—and as for the other one, the gent—Sutton smirked with derision. No, it was the woman he had to get rid of before the truth came out, and as soon as possible.

He turned his horse and began to ride.

Sutton decided he’d kill her slowly, take his time. He might even kidnap her and hide her away somewhere, taking out his frustrations on her body—she was a beauty. Remembering her now, standing in the library, the shape of her body, her dark hair and white skin, the brilliance of her eyes. A real lady, she was, and Sutton hadn’t had a real lady for a while.

Oh yes, he was going to enjoy himself, and afterward, the devil could have him, he didn’t care. His time was probably up anyway. But just in case it wasn’t, he might head toward Faversham. He had a sister there, who’d always been fond of him, and he of her. She’d look after him and scold him and tell him to behave himself.

Sutton smiled. His soul may be beyond redemption but it was still nice to have someone who loved him.

Chapter 34

T
ina opened her eyes, complaining as the shaking continued, and realized someone was trying to wake her. It was Richard, so close to her that she could feel his warm breath against her skin. The bruise around the eye Horace had punched was finally fading, but she wanted to reach out and stroke it gently. He smiled, and just for a moment she smiled back, forgetting everything that had come between them, and then she remembered and sat up abruptly. He moved away with a nod to Maria, who came to help her from the coach.

“We are here, miss!” Maria said in a cheerful tone belied by her tired eyes and pale face. “This is Mr. Eversham’s house.”

Tina blinked at the building lit by the setting sun. It was built of mellow pink brick, and with its turrets and gables and arched windows, looked rather like a magical castle. And then the front door opened, and the most beautiful woman she had ever seen came to greet them—a magical princess for the magical castle. Her glorious red hair shone in the lingering sunlight, and her violet-blue eyes were matched by the dress she wore.

“Richard!” she cried, hands outstretched to grasp his. “You have come home.”

Richard seemed to hesitate, then took her hands briefly, and turned toward Tina. But the woman clung to his arm, hurrying along beside him, as if they were . . . well, Tina—wide-awake now—couldn’t help but wonder just how close a relationship these two had.

“Evelyn, this is Miss Smythe, and this is Will Jackson, an associate of mine. This is Evelyn, my brother’s widow.”

Ah, the widow, thought Tina, as Evelyn gave her another of her perfect smiles. The
unfaithful
widow. Lady Isabelle Arlington might be described in a similar manner, but Tina didn’t get the same warm sense of liking with this woman. Despite her beauty and her welcoming smile there was something cold and off-putting about Evelyn Eversham.

“We get so few visitors here, don’t we, Richard?” she was burbling on, glancing at him as if they were in league. A couple. “Are you staying? Richard, are they staying with us?”

Richard had grown more and more uncomfortable, and now he removed his arm from Evelyn although not without a forceful effort, Tina noted, hiding her smile behind her hand. “Miss Smythe’s life is in danger,” he said gravely.

Evelyn gave a gurgle of laughter. “Her life in danger? My goodness, Richard, that is dramatic.”

Richard opened his mouth, probably to reprimand her, but Tina had had enough of this little scene and decided to answer for herself.

“I was unfortunate enough to come face-to-face with a dangerous man, Mrs. Eversham, and he knows that if he is caught and I identify him, then he will be hanged. I imagine he will do anything in his power to prevent that.”

Her quietly serious tone froze Evelyn’s smile.

“I see,” she said, changing tack. “Then you are most welcome at Eversham Manor, Miss Smythe. Richard was right to bring you here.”

She turned to lead the way inside, and Maria murmured in Tina’s ear, “As if it all belongs to her, miss! The cheek of her.”

But Tina was thinking that perhaps it did belong to Evelyn, and Richard, too. He’d lied to her about other things, why not about his sister-in-law? She was a beautiful woman, and his brother was dead. Was it not entirely possibly they were lovers?

And why oh why did the thought of it hurt so much!

Inside the manor the entrance hall was paneled in dark oak, with a vaulted ceiling in the Tudor style. Tina looked about her, wondering how old it was and how long Richard’s family had been in possession of it. Maria had said he was wealthy—not that Tina cared a jot about that—and yet the house didn’t look as if it had had much care taken of it.

Will, following along behind her, almost ran into her. It was because he couldn’t take his eyes off Evelyn, she was amused to see. “Do you live here the year round, Mrs. Eversham?” he asked, probably hoping he might see her in town at some point.

“I very rarely leave,” she said pensively. “An occasional visit to London to see old friends, but I am unused to all the noise these days. I am afraid I’ve become quite the country bumpkin.”

Richard raised his eyebrows. “You were in London the other week, Evelyn, so don’t play the poor widow. My sister-in-law,” he said to Will, “was an actress before she married my brother and has many friends.”

Evelyn didn’t look pleased to have her version of the story routed, and her response was to pretend not to hear as she instructed a servant to bring tea and refreshments to the sitting room.

“Afterward, I will see you to your rooms,” she said, her smile once more in place. “You are all staying, I presume?”

“Yes, Evelyn, they are all staying. Excuse me for a moment”—it was Tina he looked to—“I need to speak to some of the household. Will?”

The two men went out, and for a moment silence reigned.

“What a very nice room.” Tina made the effort to be polite, and it
was
a nice room, feminine, with a great many flowery fabrics.

“Yes, I believe it was Richard’s mother’s favorite room,” Evelyn said dismissively. With the gentlemen gone, Tina noticed that the other woman’s appealing manner was no longer quite so appealing.

“Do you have any children, Mrs. Eversham?”

Evelyn gave a playful little smile. “Unfortunately not, Miss Smythe.” She made a show of looking about her. “This house is so big, it needs children. Perhaps one day Richard and I . . .” But she chose not to end the sentence, leaving that to Tina’s imagination.

The tea tray arrived, and Tina was glad to sip the hot liquid and partake of several sandwiches, as well as a large slice of fruitcake She’d been feeling queasy from the coach, but now hunger had taken its place.

“Have you many friends in the area?” Tina tried again, when she was feeling more the thing. “You must be always out visiting.”

Evelyn waved a delicate white hand. “When Anthony, my husband, was alive we were always out and about, but since he died I do not seem to get many invitations. They do not want to share their table with a widow in mourning.”

That didn’t sound likely, but Tina thought she knew the real reason Evelyn was not invited, and decided to be frank. “Pardon me, Mrs. Eversham, but I think it is because they do not want a beautiful widow at their table.”

Evelyn appeared pleased with her observation. “Well, perhaps,” she acknowledged with her playful smile.

“Was your husband a young man when he died, Mrs. Eversham?”

Evelyn looked at her impatiently. “Goodness, what a great many questions you ask, Miss Smythe. Yes, he was young. He was murdered.”

Tina was so shocked she almost choked on her fruitcake.

“Oh yes,” Evelyn went on, having got the reaction she’d hoped for. “Shot in the chest, not far from the house. In the woods, in fact. Hasn’t Richard told you?” she added sourly. “I’m surprised. He’s made it his life’s mission to find Anthony’s killer.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m very sorry to hear such a thing, Mrs. Eversham.”

“Yes, well.” Evelyn lapsed into silence.

Tina wondered if she still grieved for her husband or whether she was too busy grieving for herself. That might sound unkind, but it was understandable. Evelyn was a young and beautiful woman, trapped here in a country manor, with few friends—if her comments could be believed. It was hardly surprising she had fixed her sights on Richard as an escape.

Or am I being too generous to them?
Tina asked herself.
Perhaps she and Richard are already lovers and intend to marry one day. Perhaps that was just another lie he told me.

“I’m surprised Richard hasn’t mentioned me to you before,” Evelyn said airily, choosing a slice of cake for herself. “He must be keeping me a secret.” And she laughed. “Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without him. I am so lonely here when he is in town, and I know he is very busy so I don’t like to bother him, but he visits when he can.”

Tina was beginning to feel queasy again, and this time it had nothing to do with riding in a coach. Where Evelyn was concerned it seemed impossible to pin down the fact from the fiction. But one thing was certain—the widow considered Richard her property and was doing her best to warn Tina off.

She didn’t like to admit it to herself, but she was relieved when Richard returned, with Will Jackson, from whatever they’d been doing.

R
ichard saw immediately from Evelyn’s smug expression and Tina’s disheartened one that things were not going well between them. If he’d had any other option, he would not have brought her here, but he was desperate to protect her, and because he knew his own estate and trusted his servants, this was the best place to be. He’d also wanted to talk with Gregor, his estate manager, to follow up the letter he’d sent. Luckily the man was in his office, but as Evelyn had warned him, Mr. Gregor knew nothing more about the “toff from the north.”

It was just a shame Evelyn was in residence, like a spider at the center of her web. Good Lord, he wouldn’t even put it past her to tell Tina about their ancient affair. Well, there was only one way to head off Evelyn’s nasty tricks, and that was to tell Tina the truth from his own lips.

If she would stay in his company long enough to listen.

“Are the rooms ready for our guests, Evelyn?” he said coolly. “We’ve had a long journey and need to rest.”

Evelyn gave him a hurt look. “I’ll go and see, Richard.”

When she had left the room, Will said, “I hope we’re not putting her to any trouble, Eversham.”

“She only has to order the servants, Will, not too strenuous, even for Evelyn.”

“I say, you’re being rather harsh on her, aren’t you?”

“Oh, Will”—Richard sighed—“please don’t set your cap in that direction. You will only be hurt, believe me.”

“And you’re the expert on setting one’s cap, aren’t you?” Tina said tartly, and stood up. “If you don’t mind, I
am
rather weary, so I will go to my room now and rest.” She’d reached the door when she stopped and turned back to face them. “Are there any instructions? Should I lock and bolt my door and windows? Should I hide in a cupboard? Up the chimney? I need to know what to do if this man comes upon me unaware.”

Her green eyes were bright with malice, and he wanted to go to her and shake her and then kiss her until she stopped hating him and started loving him again. But unfortunately that wasn’t possible, not yet.

Richard sipped his tea, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. He could see his relaxed attitude was infuriating her. “You don’t need to do anything, Miss Smythe. The situation is completely under
my
control.”

She gave him one more glare and then marched out.

Will shifted in his seat. “You upset her on purpose, old chap.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“And that’s not entirely true, is it? About the situation being under your control. ”

“Isn’t it?”

“Sutton is out there somewhere, watching and waiting.”

“I am more than capable of protecting Miss Smythe, Will. We wait, we pounce, and we catch him.”

Will still looked doubtful. “You do seem a bit distracted, Richard. You have been ever since you met her.”

“Have I? Why do you think that is, Will?”

Will pondered. “Well, I don’t like to speak ill of any woman, but she seems to me to be a rather willful sort of girl. Rather a handful.”

Richard grinned. “She is, isn’t she? And damned if I don’t like that in a woman.”

Will gave his head a puzzled shake and went off to find his own bed.