Sin With a Scoundrel: The Husband Hunters Club by Sara Bennett

so attuned to her scent and the timbre of her voice that he would instinctively have found her in any crowd.
    A few of the guests glanced at him uneasily, but for a moment he was alone, and he remembered why it was he hadn’t been to anything like this for almost two years. He was almost relieved when Sir Henry caught his eye and came to stand beside him.
    “Over there.” His superior gave a discreet nod toward a group of gentlemen by a marble bust of a Roman emperor on a plinth.
    “Who am I meant to be observing?”
    “Charles Smythe, in the green waistcoat, and John Little done up like a dog’s dinner.”
    Charles stood with a couple of others who were immediately recognizable as young blades about town, and a slight gentleman who looked uncomfortable in his immaculate evening wear. The tobacco importer—the new player in the game.
    Richard decided he looked harmless enough.
    As if he’d heard his name spoken, despite that’s being impossible, John Little looked at them across the drawing room. It was only a brief moment, but Richard sensed a stirring in the air, a soft whisper of warning.
    Perhaps appearances were deceiving.
    “ . . . Had a devil of a job getting you invited,” Sir Henry was saying, oblivious to Little’s glance. “Don’t do anything to make me regret it.”
    “Like telling off-color jokes at dinner?”
    Sir Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Not funny, Richard.”
    “Well, you know I am unaccustomed to dining in the company of quality, Sir Henry. I hardly know which fork to use.”
    “You know perfectly well how to behave,” he retorted gruffly. “You know better than most of them.”
    Did he? He knew he should reassure his superior, but there was a devil in Richard that liked to behave outrageously. Which was probably why he enjoyed his current work so much. Oh there were times when it was difficult to be the man no one wanted to be seen with in public, never more so than right at this moment. But Richard knew it was important to his work and revenging his brother’s death to place himself in a position where he was considered not quite a gentleman, a bit of a rake perhaps, and a wastrel. People were inclined to tell such a man things they wouldn’t have told someone respectable.
    Because he didn’t matter, he learned so much more.
    A nearby group of ladies were sending glances his way, and he was tempted to flirt a little, cause a few blushes, give them something to tell their friends. He was, after all, the notorious Mr. Eversham, and wasn’t that just the sort of behavior society expected of him?
    But Richard wasn’t really interested in those ladies; he was interested in one particular lady.
    Then a movement near the door caused him to turn, and there she was, pink-cheeked and smiling, her dark curls swept up onto her crown, pearl earrings matching the necklace about her creamy throat. She was quite ravishing, and why Gilfoyle hadn’t already snapped her up was beyond Richard’s comprehension.
    She’d only taken a few steps when she saw him.
    Her green eyes widened. Her soft mouth fell open. She froze.
    Inwardly Richard sighed. If Miss Smythe was such a poor actress, she would never capture Lord Horace. Clearly she needed a great many more lessons.
    “Tina?” Lady Carol had noticed and slipped an arm about her daughter’s waist. She shot Richard an unwelcoming glare. “Are you all right?”
    “I . . . that is, yes. Yes, of course I am.”
    Good, he thought admiringly. She’d recovered herself well and now turned away from Richard to greet her friends. Lady Carol sent him another withering look, as if it was all his fault. And of course it was.
    A moment later Lord Horace breezed into the room, laughing, shaking hands, completely secure in his place in society and particularly the Smythe household.
    Richard felt his hackles rise.
    Sir Henry was quick to introduce them.
    “Mr. Eversham!” Gilfoyle said in delight. “You are a man I could have a very interesting