Their conversation was interrupted as Lady Margaret entered the room. “You are looking lovely this evening,” she said, her gaze landing on Elsbeth.
“Thank you, my lady,” Elsbeth responded.
Turning her attention to Lady Isabella and Alfred, Lady Margaret greeted them warmly, pulling them into a conversation.
Eugenie leaned closer to Elsbeth, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I apologize for whatever my brother said to you earlier. He has been dreadfully unhappy these days.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“I would not give him—or his words—much heed.”
Elsbeth forced a smile to her lips. “I assure you that I do not think of your brother at all.”
“I am pleased to hear that.”
As if their words had conjured up Lord Westcott, he entered the room with purposeful strides. His brown hair was brushed forward and his sideburns were neatly trimmed. It was a shame that he was so handsome but entirely disagreeable.
Their eyes met and Elsbeth saw Lord Westcott’s eyes flash with annoyance. Not that she cared. If anything, she found the level of disdain he had for her amusing. It was almost entertaining to witness how thoroughly she could unsettle him simply by existing.
As he approached, she braced herself, preparing for yet another tiresome conversation with the insufferable man. Life would undoubtedly be simpler if they could agree never to speak again.
Lord Westcott came to a stop next to the settee, inclining his head in polite acknowledgment. “Sister. Lady Elsbeth.”
Elsbeth returned his gesture with a curt nod. “My lord.”
He stood in silence for a moment, their gazes locked as though engaging in an unspoken battle of wills. Elsbeth tried to pinpoint precisely what it was about him that vexed her. His arrogance? His rigid demeanor? His irritating habit of looking at her as though she were a particularly troublesome insect? Quite frankly, she loathed everything about him. His clothing. His face. She loathed it all.
Turning towards Eugenie, Elsbeth muttered, “Excuse me.” She stood up and brushed past Lord Westcott. She had no desire to be around him, even for a moment.
She had barely taken a few steps towards her mother when Lord Westcott’s voice called out behind her, “Would you care to take a turn around the room with me?”
No.
Absolutely not!
That was the worst idea imaginable. But she could hardly voice that thought aloud.
Turning slowly, she met his gaze and worked to keep her voice polite. “Do you truly think that is a good idea, my lord?”
“I do,” he replied. “There are a few matters I wish to discuss.”
“Wonderful,” Elsbeth muttered. “I am not certain I wish to hear what those matters are.”
Ignoring her protests, Lord Westcott offered his arm, his expression unwavering. “All I require is a moment of your time.”
Elsbeth hesitated, glancing down at his proffered arm. If she refused, it would be considered rude, and while she cared little for his opinion, she did care for Lady Margaret. Reluctantly, she placed her hand on his arm. “Very well.”
As Lord Westcott started leading her around the room, he glanced at her. “I wanted to apologize for my words earlier.”
Her feet faltered slightly. She had not expected that.
“Thank you,” Elsbeth said. Perhaps he wasn’t truly as terrible as she thought.
“I should have not insinuated that you were like the other young women who blatantly seek my attention,” he continued. “However, I still believe it would be best if we spent as little time together as possible.”
Now that was something that they could both agree on. “I wholeheartedly agree.”
“Good.”
