Read Online Sin With a Scoundrel: The Husband Hunters Club by Sara Bennett - Free Book Online
Authors: Sara Bennett
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great deal of gusto.
“Horace is in good voice tonight,” Anne murmured, as Charles and another friend joined him, roaring the words in a less-than-tuneful fashion.
Tina thought Horace was behaving very oddly tonight, but she merely smiled.
Others were taking their turn at singing around the pianoforte, and Horace made his way over to Tina and Anne although, to Tina’s dismay, his gaze did seem to linger on her lovely friend.
“What do you think, ladies? The life of a beggar might be far simpler than working for a living, might it not?”
Tina gave him a doubtful look. “Do you actually know anyone who works for a living, Horace?”
“Hmm, my servants work. Some of them better than others,” he added darkly.
“And do you suppose that they would be better off as beggars?” Tina asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. What did Horace know of poverty? It was all a game to him. He’d never experienced it, not even a little bit. At least Tina could tell herself she now knew something of the misery of doing without.
Anne added her calming influence to the conversation. “It’s just a silly song and mustn’t be taken seriously. We should always remember the poor and do what we can to help. Don’t you agree, Tina?”
“Yes, of course,” Tina said, but she felt a little sad. She had changed. Her circumstances had changed her. She would never be able to have a lighthearted conversation again without this feeling inside her of being apart from her friends.
What would they say if they knew she was about to become one of the poor they were speaking about? What if they were to find out that beneath her lovely and fashionable new dress her petticoat was darned because it had holes in it, and she couldn’t afford to buy another? Or that her slippers were scuffed at the toes, and Maria had colored in the bare spots to disguise them?
“My family often attends charity events,” Anne said earnestly. “I think everyone should consider those less fortunate than themselves.”
The conversation had clearly become too earnest for Horace. “Now, ladies. Champagne!” He summoned a passing servant, and both Tina and Anne accepted a glass. “You both look exceptionally lovely tonight.”
Anne smiled and accepted the compliment as her due and although Tina did likewise, she was certain Horace was simply mouthing words to be polite. He did not mean them. There was no special glint to his eye or smile to his lips when he looked at her; there was nothing to say he found her any more attractive than he had when they were five years old.
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
“Horace is in good voice tonight,” Anne murmured, as Charles and another friend joined him, roaring the words in a less-than-tuneful fashion.
Tina thought Horace was behaving very oddly tonight, but she merely smiled.
Others were taking their turn at singing around the pianoforte, and Horace made his way over to Tina and Anne although, to Tina’s dismay, his gaze did seem to linger on her lovely friend.
“What do you think, ladies? The life of a beggar might be far simpler than working for a living, might it not?”
Tina gave him a doubtful look. “Do you actually know anyone who works for a living, Horace?”
“Hmm, my servants work. Some of them better than others,” he added darkly.
“And do you suppose that they would be better off as beggars?” Tina asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. What did Horace know of poverty? It was all a game to him. He’d never experienced it, not even a little bit. At least Tina could tell herself she now knew something of the misery of doing without.
Anne added her calming influence to the conversation. “It’s just a silly song and mustn’t be taken seriously. We should always remember the poor and do what we can to help. Don’t you agree, Tina?”
“Yes, of course,” Tina said, but she felt a little sad. She had changed. Her circumstances had changed her. She would never be able to have a lighthearted conversation again without this feeling inside her of being apart from her friends.
What would they say if they knew she was about to become one of the poor they were speaking about? What if they were to find out that beneath her lovely and fashionable new dress her petticoat was darned because it had holes in it, and she couldn’t afford to buy another? Or that her slippers were scuffed at the toes, and Maria had colored in the bare spots to disguise them?
“My family often attends charity events,” Anne said earnestly. “I think everyone should consider those less fortunate than themselves.”
The conversation had clearly become too earnest for Horace. “Now, ladies. Champagne!” He summoned a passing servant, and both Tina and Anne accepted a glass. “You both look exceptionally lovely tonight.”
Anne smiled and accepted the compliment as her due and although Tina did likewise, she was certain Horace was simply mouthing words to be polite. He did not mean them. There was no special glint to his eye or smile to his lips when he looked at her; there was nothing to say he found her any more attractive than he had when they were five years old.
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
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