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Chapter Five
Hilaria walked away from the viscount and sternly forbade herself from glancing back at him.
He was a ridiculously skilled dance partner. The first half of their waltz had been blissful. Until he had reminded her about their bargain and the need to generate some gossip. Her stomach was churning from all the eyes directed her way. She hoped the smile on her face appeared natural rather than the awkward grimace it felt like. She was reasonably sure Eastwood would have told her if she didn’t look right. He didn’t seem to hesitate or mince his words.
That was a good quality in a scheming partner, she tried to remind herself, even if it didn’t quite feel like it in that moment.
“My lady, might I have the pleasure?”
Lost in thought, Hilaria hadn’t really been focusing on her surroundings, but suddenly she realized there were several gentlemen watching her, seemingly in wait to see who she would dance with next. Hilaria sighed. Not a duke in sight.Not yet, she whispered inside her head, trying to maintain a positive attitude. She had agreed to Eastwood’s outlandish idea; she needed to follow through on the agreement. With a nod and a smile, she accepted Lord Sterling’s invitation, pleased to note that he was reputed to be one of theton’smost skilled dancers. Even if he was only an earl. Hilaria smiled to herself. She was nothing if not consistent.
“Are you having a pleasant evening?” Lord Sterling asked, his tone polite if not terribly interested.
“I am, actually, thank you. How have you been enjoying the Season, my lord? Have you succeeded in getting enough support for the Bill you were presenting?”
This question brought his attentive gaze to her face. “Do you follow the proceedings, my lady? I haven’t noticed you in attendance, I’m afraid.”
Hil shook her head. “I almost never attend. But my father tells me about it sometimes. He was particularly interested in your Bill, which is why he mentioned it. It sounded quite forward thinking, so I have tried to find mention of it in the papers, but I haven’t heard the outcome.”
“The vote is actually next week, so the outcome wouldn’t be published yet.”
“So, have you gotten the support, do you think?”
The gentleman took a deep breath as though contemplating whether or not to share his thoughts. Hilaria struggled not to roll her eyes.
“I’m fairly sure there is enough support for the Bill to pass, yes.”
Hilaria wanted to pat him on the back and assure him that wasn’t so hard. She couldn’t have explained why gentlemen were so uncomfortable with women asking about politics. One would think they’d be happy about their interest but it didn’t seem to be the case, strangely enough. Whereas they’d happily brag about their horse racing or boxing match or successful bets or card games or what have you. Just like Eastwood, it seemed to Hilaria, all men were strange creatures.
Except her father. Hilaria stifled her sigh. And she wouldn’t have been strange if only she had been born the son her father needed. She shoved that thought to the back of her cluttered mind where it wouldn’t disturb her evening. She hadn’t been born a boy, nor did she actually want to be one. But shedidwant to inherit Sherton. She loved everything about the estate. It should be hers. Taking a deep breath, Hilaria tried to refocus her attention on her dance partner. She tried to remember the name of his estate.
“How are things at Meadlow?”
The earl looked at her suspiciously. Hilaria kept her face as placid as possible even though she wanted to rail at the man. What was wrong with that question? Was it not polite? Should she not show an interest? It didn’t imply she was setting her cap at him, if that’s what he thought. Was she perhaps supposed to remain silent and wait for him to ask her questions? But then he would ask her about her frock or some other nonsensical thing that would make her want to stomp her foot and scream at him. Which, thankfully, she had enough self-control not to do, of course, but that didn’t change the fact that she wanted to do it.
The steps of the dance separated them once more, for which she was eternally grateful. She didn’t bother trying to chat with her next partner and by the time she was back in the arms of Lord Sterling, she had herself fully under control and didn’t bother to remind him of her question. He also didn’t enlighten her, but she didn’t mind. She didn’t really care about Meadlow, but she had heard from one of their grooms that the stables at Meadlow had dealt with a similar problem as they were experiencing at Sherton, so she had thought to ask the earl if they had found a solution. Hilaria suspected the man would not receive her question well.
The evening passed swiftly despite her slight sense ofennui. She was relieved when it felt like suddenly Eastwood was before her once more.
“Good evening, my lady, I believe you’re promised to me for supper.”
“Is it that time already? Wonderful.” She didn’t try too hard to hide her delight. It would be better for his scheme if she were to appear thrilled with his company, she reminded herself.
Once Eastwood had found them a place to sit and had collected them each a plate of food, Hilaria watched him tuck into it from beneath her eyelashes, barely touching her own plate.
“Did I make poor selections for you, my lady? I probably should have asked you what you wanted.”
“Probably,” she agreed with amusement. “But your selections were actually fine. I’m just trying to decide whether or not to ask you the question I want to ask.”
“Ask away. Why would you hesitate?”
“It seems to me that gentlemen don’t enjoy being questioned. That is what I’d like to ask about, but I hesitate to offend.”
“I’ll be more offended by you not asking for fear of offending me,” he countered, bringing a light laugh to Hilaria’s lips.
“Very well, my lord, but pray you, do not become starchy with me after the fact.”
“Do I strike you as the starchy type?” He sounded horrified, making Hilaria laugh anew.
