by Sara Bennett
Tina drank another glass of champagne, frustrated by the turn the evening and her own feelings were taking. She had imagined having Horace to herself and instead she was sharing him with everyone else.
Richard Eversham, at her shoulder, chose that moment to whisper in her ear.
Why not see if you can turn his attention back to you?
How will I do that? You can tell he’s far more interested in Anne than me.
You know how. Do as I told you.
As she sipped from her glass she allowed her shawl to slowly slip farther down her shoulders until her décolletage was no longer hidden. If her bosom was her only attribute, then she must take Mr. Eversham’s advice and show it off as much as possible.
And Horace certainly noticed.
He looked and then turned away and looked back again as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was he interested or embarrassed? She couldn’t tell, but now she’d begun she could hardly go back. It was time to try her charms on some of the other guests. Why not? What had she to lose now? By next week she might be inhabiting a small room at the Fleet Prison.
With all the confidence born of two glasses of champagne—and Richard at her shoulder—Tina excused herself from the small group that included the object of her heart’s desire and joined the boisterous assembly around the pianoforte. She bent over the pianist to look at the words, giving all those present an extra good view of her attributes, and then joined in the singing. She found she was thoroughly enjoying herself and the company she was in. It was amusing to flutter her eyelashes and touch gentlemen’s arms, and she soon became the life of the party, or at least the small section gathered around the pianoforte.
So what if several of the ladies were staring at her disapprovingly and whispering about her behind their gloved hands? They were jealous, that was all. In fact she was having such a good time that she was a little disappointed when it was time to leave for the theater although it was quite gratifying when several young men asked her to accompany them in their carriages.
Fortunately she had Charles to escort her, as she had no desire to single out any of the young men and have him think she might have any real interest. She was interested in one man only, the husband she was hunting, Lord Horace Gilfoyle.
Actually the theater was a trifle dull after the excitement of the soiree, and she found herself sitting beside her brother and a rather timid gentleman who introduced himself as John Little, a business acquaintance of Horace’s. There were refreshments in the interval, and more champagne. Tina knew she really shouldn’t, but the drinks she had had at Horace’s town house were wearing off, and with them her sense of invincibility where her reputation was concerned.
Of what use is a reputation when you are poor? Let those with money worry about their reputations. You need to marry a wealthy husband.
“You’re still here!” she cried with pleasure. She had thought Richard was gone, but now he was back, whispering in her ear.
“Miss Smythe? Are you well?” Mr. Little was looking at her with some concern, and Tina realized she’d spoken aloud.
She laughed gaily. “Mr. Little, I do apologize. A thought just popped into my head, and I spoke it without considering I was in company.”
“Tina, do be quiet, the play is starting again.” Charles was giving her a disapproving look, which she found amusing considering the number of times he’d overindulged with champagne and become noisy.
She was tempted to tell him so but as she opened her mouth, he leaned toward her and said, “If you don’t shut up, I’ll tell Mama you were drunk.”
Tina subsided into silence, brooding upon the difficulty of having a brother who only noticed one’s behavior when one didn’t want him to. But it was pleasing when Mr. Little gave her a sympathetic smile, as if he understood completely.
As the play drew to a close Tina found herself feeling very sleepy, and Charles kept nudging her. As they were leaving to go home Mr. Little took her hand and asked if he might pay her a visit and, without any real thought, she said of course he could and, after brief good-byes to the other guests, she and Charles departed.
“What on earth got into you?” Charles hissed, as they jolted along London’s dark streets. “I was embarrassed, Tina.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I had a wonderful time.”
Charles subsided, and Tina was left with her own thoughts.
Congratulations! Richard was still there at her side. You put your mark on tonight’s proceedings, Tina. Mark my words, only good can come of this.
Tina smiled at the passing night beyond the coach window. Yes, it had been a success. She’d started her husband hunting tonight, and surely, very soon, Horace would be hers.
Chapter 8
Richard returned to Five Jasmine Street late in the evening and slept well and rose eager to begin the day. Miss Smythe’s visit was for two o’clock, and he was looking forward to it. In fact his level of anticipation surprised him and made him uneasy. As did his growing urge to warn her about Lord Horace Gilfoyle.
But that was impossible.
Knowing Archie now had a foot in the Smythe household would just have to be enough. Good God, she might already be engaged! And even if she did believe what Richard had to say and not storm out of his house, she might let slip to Gilfoyle the Guardians’ suspicions of him, and that would ruin everything.
Because if Gilfoyle was the Captain, then Richard knew he would stop at nothing to bring him to justice for his brother’s death. Spoiling Miss Smythe’s wedding plans was hardly going to prevent him from taking his revenge; in fact it might make him even more determined to deal with the brute.
After a late breakfast Richard made his way to see Sir Henry Arlington at Whitehall. He entered the building of the Metropolitan Police, using the back entrance from Great Scotland Yard. His superior had a small office tucked away in a corner of the labyrinthine building where he sat frowning over numerous dispatches and snippets of intelligence received from all over the country. Not unlike a spider at the center of its web.
“Richard. You have something for me?”
“I believe so.” Richard explained about his visit to Gareth. “Lord Horace was there at the right time to have had a hand in the riot in Kent.”
“Interesting. And he had no reason to be journeying to Kent, no estate to visit, no family?”
“Not as far as I know.”
Sir Henry mulled over this latest intelligence.
After a moment Richard went on. “The other man, the one who was traveling with him, I’ve never heard of. He’s a businessman, an importer, who calls himself John Little.”
“And as we know, Lord Horace has some rather shady friends. I will discover as much as I can about this Mr. Little. In the meantime, keep a close watch on your Miss Smythe. She may be our way into Gilfoyle’s inner circle.”
“I’m seeing her today at two o’clock.”
Sir Henry gave him a knowing smile.
“In a purely business capacity,” Richard added stiffly, and wondered why he felt the need to justify himself. His relationship with Miss Smythe, business or otherwise, was none of Sir Henry’s affair. But then again, if they discovered Gilfoyle was the Captain, then perhaps it was.
“My brother’s final mission,” he began.
Sir Henry’s smile vanished. “We’ve spoken of this, Richard, and I’ve told you all I know. Your brother had a bad habit of keeping things to himself. All very well to play it alone, but when he was killed, all his secrets died with him. I know he was on the trail of the Captain because he’d told me so several days before, but he died in Kent, near his home. The Captain might have followed him there, or perhaps it was just a coincidence, and he had nothing to do with his death.”
“But it is likely,” Richard said quietly. “It is more than likely that if Anthony was onto the Captain, then the Captain was onto him. If Anthony knew enough to ensure that the Captain hanged, then that villain would f
eel he had no choice but to silence him.”
Sir Henry nodded, his mouth turned down. “Yes, that is a fair assumption. But it is only an assumption. You need to concentrate on the here and now, Richard. Do your job. Don’t make the same mistake as Anthony and go off on your own tangent. The Guardians are here to help you, don’t shut them out.”
“I don’t intend to,” Richard assured him. And yet, in his heart, he wondered. If he were to discover for certain that Gilfoyle was the Captain, would he really go to the others? Or would he head off alone to take vengeance on the man who’d murdered his brother before he had a chance to set aside their differences and repair their relationship?
Even if it meant his own demise.
On the way back from seeing Sir Henry, he stopped off at Gilfoyle’s town house, strolling past as if he hadn’t a care in the world. It was a wealthy man’s house, ostentatious, with a liveried servant at the door. Why would a man with so much to lose involve himself in sedition and a possible date with a hangman’s noose?
“Miss Tina. You have a visitor.”
Tina stretched and then grimaced as the lingering effects of the champagne shot pain right through her head. She decided that was the first and last time she overindulged like that. How on earth could Horace and Charles do it night after night? Clearly they were both very silly.
“A visitor? What on earth is the time, Maria?”
“It’s after ten, miss. Lady Carol had said to let you sleep, but now there’s a gentleman here to see you, and she wants me to wake you up at once.”
Tina sighed. “A gentleman?” Not Horace then. Had she really expected Horace to come rushing to her side? She admitted that she had hoped he might, despite its being most unlike Horace to be so impulsive. “Who is this gentleman?”
“A Mr. Little, miss.”
Tina forgot about her head and sat up. “Oh no! I did tell him he could call, but I didn’t expect him so soon.”
“Lady Carol and Sir Thomas are entertaining him in the drawing room, but you are to hurry.”
“Help me to get dressed, and I’ll go and rescue them.”
Tina washed, and Maria helped her into a modest day dress.
“I’ve let it down,” she said, with a critical glance. “I don’t think it shows, miss. Anyway Mr. Little won’t be looking at your hem, will he?”
Tina eyed the darker color around the bottom of her skirt. “Well, it can’t be helped.”
“No, miss.”
Maria met her eyes and looked away as quickly. She did know then, Tina thought. How could she not? They were like a sinking ship, all going down together.
However, there was no sign of gloom when she reached the drawing room; in fact, laughter greeted her as she opened the door.
“Tina,” cried Lady Carol, looking flushed. “Mr. Little has just been regaling us with tales from his travels. Some of the things he’s seen!”
Bewildered, Tina looked at her father, whose face was red from laughter, and at Mr. Little, who had risen to his feet and was smiling at her. Could this possibly be the same man whose company she’d endured last night? He was almost attractive when he smiled, she realized, although he was still barely an inch taller than she, and his shoulders were stooped like a man twice his age.
A comparison with Mr. Eversham popped into her head, but she pushed it firmly out again.
“I had no idea you meant to pay me a visit so soon, Mr. Little,” she said coolly, meaning to disconcert him.
“I was in the vicinity and took a chance,” he replied with his smile undimmed.
“How did you enjoy the theater, Mr. Little?”
Comically, he turned down the corners of his mouth. “It was a very dull play, Miss Smythe. I could barely stay awake.” He gave her a sideways glance, as if inviting her to share the joke, but Tina couldn’t help but feel the joke was at her expense.
Lady Carol laughed; clearly she was charmed by Mr. Little even if Tina was not.
“I was rather surprised to be invited. I’m not a close friend of Lord Horace. We have done some business together, and I happened to run into him a few days ago, so perhaps he felt obliged to ask me to his soiree. I felt a little like an imposter and was rather uncomfortable with all his . . . uh . . . noble company.”
“Ha!” scoffed Sir Thomas. “A perfectly worthless lot! It’s nice to meet a young man who works for his living.”
Tina’s father had become very opposed to the upper classes since his money troubles. Tina couldn’t remember him being so egalitarian before; in fact he’d been rather indifferent to the struggles of the poorer classes, avowing more than once that they brought their misery upon themselves through idleness. Now that he was well on the way to joining them, he’d suddenly become a strident socialist, and it could be embarrassing in company.
However, to Tina’s relief, Mr. Little didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed similarly inclined. “I am most gratified that you think so, Sir Thomas. It is refreshing not to be looked down upon because I am in trade.”
“What is it that you do exactly, Mr. Little?” asked Tina.
“Mr. Little is in the manufacturing business. Tobacco,” said her father enthusiastically. “One of the most useful products of our times, I believe. The doctor put me onto it to help ease my nerves, and it has done wonders for me.”
John smiled. “I don’t actually manufacture tobacco. It grows in the Americas, and I import it and refine it locally in my factory—make it a little more palatable for the British market.”
“I wonder you can’t make it smell any better, then,” said Tina, who abhorred her father’s addiction to smoking.
John chuckled. “Believe me we do our best, Miss Smythe. Do you know, it isn’t just men who smoke tobacco, there are many women, too.”
“I have often thought of taking it up myself,” Lady Carol said, and earned herself a beaming smile from Mr. Little. “Ring for some tea, darling,” Lady Carol instructed her daughter. “You’re not in a rush are you, Mr. Little?”
Tina hoped he was, but he leaned back in the chair, completely at home in their drawing room. “Not at all, Lady Carol. I’d be delighted to join you for tea.”
John Little had been to most of the exotic places Tina had read about as well as quite a few she’d never heard of, and despite herself, she was swept up in his tales. If only Horace would call in and see her enjoying the company of another man, her morning would be complete.
Lady Carol was sipping her tea and seemed to be deep in thought. She had been rather subdued ever since she discovered just how wealthy Mr. Little was. Tina watched her uneasily, only half listening to her father speaking enthusiastically with Mr. Little. Mama was up to something, and it didn’t take long for her to discover what it was.
“We should have a dinner party! It has been such a long time. We could invite the Thompsons, Horace, Mr. Little of course and perhaps Sir Henry and Lady Isabelle? What do you think?”
Sir Thomas looked momentarily as if he’d been stuffed, as well he might. They had been dining on pigs’ trotters and cabbage all week, and his best brandy had been watered down until it hardly tasted like brandy at all. But something urgent in his wife’s fixed expression must have impressed upon him the importance of his reply, and at this point Sir Thomas would do anything in his power to please his wife.
“As you wish, my dear. A dinner party. Yes, hmm, good idea.”
“Mama,” Tina murmured, anxious to catch her mother’s attention. “Mama, there is no need—”
But Lady Carol was well away with her plans, and even Sir Thomas was becoming quite caught up in the idea.
Tina noticed that Mr. Little was entranced by her mother. Was it the fact Lady Carol had decided upon a dinner party, just because she liked him, that had won him over? And to be fair, Lady Carol did like him—Sir Thomas certainly did—but her mother also liked the fact that John Little was a wealthy man, and he’d called promptly upon her daughter after one meeting.
Mr. Little
finally made his excuses and left, pressing a gallant kiss to Lady Carol’s hand and promising to be present at the dinner party. He’d stayed well over the allotted time for first calls, Tina noted, but no one but herself seemed to notice or care.
“Tina, we must have some more ladies,” her mother burbled. “We have too many men. Are there any young ladies you would like to invite?”
Tina had lost touch with her London acquaintances while she’d been away at finishing school. For a moment she wondered whether she could ask Olivia or Marissa or Averil or Eugenia, but of course they would be busy with their own husband-hunting plans. No, she would have to think of someone else. But the only name that came readily to mind was Anne Burgess. As soon as she said it she wished she hadn’t. Anne was far too attractive and would take Horace’s attention away from her. So she hastily added Margaret Allsop, who wasn’t quite so attractive and rather more dull than Anne.
This afternoon Richard Eversham must help her with her plans; she needed to know how to behave during the dinner. Surely, he would be able to practice a little dinner flirtation with her. At the thought of it she experienced a frisson of excitement. She was beginning to enjoy her meetings with Mr. Eversham. She smiled a secret smile and allowed her mother’s words to wash over her while she indulged in far more interesting thoughts.
Chapter 9
Tina was relieved to reach Jasmine Square only slightly late. She’d had great difficulty escaping Lady Carol, now deep into the particulars of planning the dinner party. It seemed no expense was to be spared. Sir Thomas, too, was completely caught up in it, especially on the subject of which drinks were to be available to their guests—“My dear, champagne and brandy are most important. We cannot have enough of either.”
It was as if they both didn’t have a care in the world.
Suspecting this was all in her honor, no matter how they tried to pretend otherwise, gave Tina a squirmy feeling in her stomach. Lady Carol might say that her daughter’s happiness was more important than the family debts, but Tina wondered what her decision must be if it came to a choice between her happiness and Mr. Little’s tempting fortune.