Tina said self-righteously, while the voice in her head was whispering, Liar.
Her mother continued in that awful earnest, worried tone until Tina felt like squirming. “You are such an innocent.”
“Horace would never—”
Lady Carol’s smile was forced. “Would he not? Well, you know him best, I suppose. I’m sorry to worry. I can’t seem to help it these days.”
Affectionately, she leaned to kiss her daughter’s cheek. “Just be careful, darling. I’ll leave you to your rest now.”
Tina wondered how she was supposed to rest.
Her mind was turning in circles.
What if she was making a terrible mistake? Was she going too far with her plans to make Horace notice her? Perhaps her mother was right, and he wasn’t the sort of man to be trusted with a pretty girl. There had been some talk about a shopkeeper’s daughter although until now Tina had dismissed that as mere gossip. Would Horace wantonly ruin a girl’s reputation?
She jumped up and went to the wardrobe, where her new dress hung. The cloth was beautiful, the fit perfect, but the neckline was very low. What if Horace thought she was ripe for the picking? It was all very well to flutter one’s eyelashes like a courtesan, but Tina didn’t want to give the impression she would like to be one!
If Horace believed he could have her without the wedding vows, would he let any gentlemanly concerns prevent him? And yet she could not believe Horace was the sort of man to treat a friend with such contempt. Even as she protested, she found herself with a doubt. She’d just been telling herself she didn’t know what Horace did with his time, that she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. Could she really trust him with her virtue?
And yet what choice did she have but to carry on with her husband hunting? Horace was the only man she’d ever wanted to marry, and marrying him would be the perfect solution to the Smythes’ troubles. No, she had no choice, but perhaps there was something she could do to calm her nerves where the dress was concerned.
Rummaging through her wardrobe she found what she wanted—a silk shawl in a paisley pattern, mostly cream in color, which matched the cream lace on the green dress. She draped it about her shoulders and bosom and peered anxiously at her reflection.
She couldn’t help worrying about this evening. She had enjoyed the scene she had acted out with Richard Eversham, but now she wasn’t sure she could behave like that with Horace and his friends. Charles would make fun of her, and she would be mortified if Horace thought it funny to see his “little sister” make such a spectacle of herself. It was different with Richard Eversham—she’d known him such a short time, and yet she felt very comfortable in his presence. She trusted him.
That is because it is a business arrangement.
Well, whatever it was, he made her feel safe—that she could do whatever she wanted, and he would still not think badly of her.
So what would she do at the soiree? Would she go through with her plans or not?
Tina smiled a little grimly. Of course she would. The simple truth was she had no choice.
“W hy, Mr. Eversham, I didn’t expect to see you here!”
All about them the theater hummed with excited patrons. He bowed over her hand, his breath warm through the thin evening glove. For some reason she was wearing a diamond headpiece, almost a crown, and diamonds swung from her earlobes and glittered from her fingers. She was quite awash with them.
“I needed to see you, Miss Smythe. I could not wait.”
He was holding her hand for far too long, and yet when he moved closer, almost embracing her, Tina did not push him away. His lips brushed her temple, and she gasped. Several people around her gasped, too. She heard them begin to gossip, and yet she didn’t care.
“You are far too beautiful to marry Horace Gilfoyle,” Richard Eversham declared, his deep voice vibrating within her in places she’d never paid much
Her mother continued in that awful earnest, worried tone until Tina felt like squirming. “You are such an innocent.”
“Horace would never—”
Lady Carol’s smile was forced. “Would he not? Well, you know him best, I suppose. I’m sorry to worry. I can’t seem to help it these days.”
Affectionately, she leaned to kiss her daughter’s cheek. “Just be careful, darling. I’ll leave you to your rest now.”
Tina wondered how she was supposed to rest.
Her mind was turning in circles.
What if she was making a terrible mistake? Was she going too far with her plans to make Horace notice her? Perhaps her mother was right, and he wasn’t the sort of man to be trusted with a pretty girl. There had been some talk about a shopkeeper’s daughter although until now Tina had dismissed that as mere gossip. Would Horace wantonly ruin a girl’s reputation?
She jumped up and went to the wardrobe, where her new dress hung. The cloth was beautiful, the fit perfect, but the neckline was very low. What if Horace thought she was ripe for the picking? It was all very well to flutter one’s eyelashes like a courtesan, but Tina didn’t want to give the impression she would like to be one!
If Horace believed he could have her without the wedding vows, would he let any gentlemanly concerns prevent him? And yet she could not believe Horace was the sort of man to treat a friend with such contempt. Even as she protested, she found herself with a doubt. She’d just been telling herself she didn’t know what Horace did with his time, that she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. Could she really trust him with her virtue?
And yet what choice did she have but to carry on with her husband hunting? Horace was the only man she’d ever wanted to marry, and marrying him would be the perfect solution to the Smythes’ troubles. No, she had no choice, but perhaps there was something she could do to calm her nerves where the dress was concerned.
Rummaging through her wardrobe she found what she wanted—a silk shawl in a paisley pattern, mostly cream in color, which matched the cream lace on the green dress. She draped it about her shoulders and bosom and peered anxiously at her reflection.
She couldn’t help worrying about this evening. She had enjoyed the scene she had acted out with Richard Eversham, but now she wasn’t sure she could behave like that with Horace and his friends. Charles would make fun of her, and she would be mortified if Horace thought it funny to see his “little sister” make such a spectacle of herself. It was different with Richard Eversham—she’d known him such a short time, and yet she felt very comfortable in his presence. She trusted him.
That is because it is a business arrangement.
Well, whatever it was, he made her feel safe—that she could do whatever she wanted, and he would still not think badly of her.
So what would she do at the soiree? Would she go through with her plans or not?
Tina smiled a little grimly. Of course she would. The simple truth was she had no choice.
“W hy, Mr. Eversham, I didn’t expect to see you here!”
All about them the theater hummed with excited patrons. He bowed over her hand, his breath warm through the thin evening glove. For some reason she was wearing a diamond headpiece, almost a crown, and diamonds swung from her earlobes and glittered from her fingers. She was quite awash with them.
“I needed to see you, Miss Smythe. I could not wait.”
He was holding her hand for far too long, and yet when he moved closer, almost embracing her, Tina did not push him away. His lips brushed her temple, and she gasped. Several people around her gasped, too. She heard them begin to gossip, and yet she didn’t care.
“You are far too beautiful to marry Horace Gilfoyle,” Richard Eversham declared, his deep voice vibrating within her in places she’d never paid much
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