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Chapter One
Hilaria’s face was aching from the effort required not to snarl at their guests. It was Rosabel’s wedding day and while Hilaria knew she ought to be happy for her sister, she was having trouble finding it in her heart to be so. Bel had become a duchess that day. Hilaria was supposed to be the duchess. Not duchess to this particular duke, of course. But a duchess. Any duchess, really.
Hilaria didn’t even particularly like Wexford. She sighed. Even she knew she was being a distempered shrew right now. There was really nothing wrong with Wexford. It was Hilaria’s own fault for letting it be known that she was determined to wed a duke. Now her sister had done so, and she was going to be a laughing stock.
If only Viscount Eastwood would stop looking at her with so much laughter in his eyes, Hilaria just might be able to get through the day with her dignity intact. But there he was looking at her yet again with his warm, sympathetic eyes, expecting her to somehow enjoy the jest with him. But she just couldn’t find any humour in this particular situation.
This was the second wedding in just over a month in their house. One of them should have been her! Hilaria could hear the exclamation mark in her head. But repeating it over and over wasn’t making it true. It was only making it hard.
She wanted to be happy for the brides. She truly did. She didn’t want to feel so angry and ugly and hateful. But this is what she had become. This is what two Seasons as the younger sister of the most beautiful lady in all of England did to you when you were far from being even a runner up in that status.
Suddenly, that thought brightened her prospects for a moment. Rosabel was married. She would be leaving Town for a marriage trip and would be returning as a married lady, no longer on the Marriage Mart. Hilaria would no longer have to feel that her sister was in her way for finding a match. She would no longer have to endure the sympathetic gazes of all and sundry when they met her after having been acquainted with her sister. Now, it could finally be her turn.
“It was a beautiful ceremony.”
Hilaria almost jumped out of her skin but managed not to squeal when Lord Eastwood’s well modulated voice came to her from his great height. She didn’t even have to glance at him to know who was speaking to her, but she couldn’t prevent her gaze from becoming ensnared with his even though she tried to ignore him.
“What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy to have grown your family today? Surely, you must be thrilled to have gained me.”
Hilaria’s stomach clenched. She so did not need this right now.
“Listen, Eastwood, now is not a good time.” She was well aware that she was almost being rude to the man. As a member of the household, she ought to be doing her utmost to ensure their guests’ comfort, she was sure, not trying to be rid of one of them, nor using less than the most respectful form of address. But she excused herself. As he said, they had become almost related that day, so surely, she needn’t be formal. Even if he expected it, she couldn’t find it within herself.
“Why not? You don’t appear to be doing anything else at the moment. It seems to me that you could use the company.”
“Well, you are sadly mistaken, I’m afraid.” Hilaria tried to slip past him, but he put his hand out to stop her.
“Listen, please, for just a moment. I need to ask you something.”
“Are you certain it cannot wait for another time?”
“Like when?” he demanded, finally losing patience with her.
“Like some time other than during my sister’s marriage breakfast.” Hilaria did her best to keep her voice low but she, too, was beyond her patience.
He sighed in a melodramatic way, but Hilaria was relieved to note that no one seemed to be taking any notice of either of them. She shouldn’t be surprised. No one ever took much notice of her. But Eastwood was a different matter altogether. His clothing seemed expressly designed to draw attention to himself. From the high points of his shirt collar to the brilliant colours of his waistcoat, there was nothing understated about the gentleman.
“I’ll collect you tomorrow for a drive in Hyde Park.”
“Was that an invitation or an order, Eastwood?”
His chuckle annoyed her, but Hilaria managed to control her temper.
“Be ready. It will be my pleasure to escort you.”
Hilaria rolled her eyes but didn’t bother arguing. There would be no good accomplished from creating a scene. And her mother wouldn’t take it well if she refused a drive with a well-connected viscount, even if she had stated she didn’t want to marry below a duke.
It had been a ridiculous statement to make. Even worse, half the people believed it had been Rosabel who had made the declaration. Hilaria supposed it was easier to believe the beautiful older sister could find herself betrothed to a duke. And for those who had placed money on the possibility, they would be cashing in this day.
Hilaria shook the thoughts away. She still needed to get through the rest of the day. Thinking such futile thoughts weren’t going to help her with that aim. The good thing was, Lord Eastwood had taken her silence as consent and was preparing to leave her alone.
“I will call for you at four.”
Hilaria nodded, even though he didn’t seem to expect an answer. Despite his easy going façade, he struck her as exceedingly arrogant, not bothering to wait and see if she had any interest in accompanying him. She supposed most young ladies would be delighted. And since she was the plain sister, it would be expected that she would be thrilled to be singled out by the handsome viscount.
If only she were like most young ladies.
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