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“Very well, but be sure you are sufficiently rested before our engagements this evening.”
Hilaria smiled, nodded, curtsied, and then hurried away, glad that her mother didn’t insist upon her return to her bedroom. She didn’t feel peaked although it was entirely possible. She never looked all that great, so she wasn’t sure what might be different about her recently. But perhaps a nap might do her good. Hilaria sighed as she hurried down the hallway. She was tired of the Season, as in disappointed and ready for it to be over, not fatigued exactly. She wished she could just snap her fingers and she could find herself wed to her duke, somewhere not too terribly far from her family and for all this Season business to be behind her.
Perhaps she ought to apply herself more carefully to an examination of Debrett’s, Hilaria thought as she reached her father’s library and discovered it to be empty. If she could determine once and for all which dukes were actually available and not too terribly close to their deathbed, she would be in a better position to find one for herself. It was beyond foolish that she hadn’t already done this research, she scolded herself. But before she could reach for the volume of Debrett’s that sat upon the shelf, she spotted the ledgers on the corner of her father’s desk and couldn’t resist the pull.
Just one column, she assured herself.
An hour later, her father walked through the door.
“Hilaria, what a pleasure to find you here.”
Hilaria felt as though she were blinking herself out of a fog as she gazed up at the earl. Glancing down at the ledger, she almost winced. There was a smudge of ink on one of her fingers. She would have to apply to the housekeeper for her special ointment that helped remove such stains before her mother caught her.
“I’m happy to report that everything seems to be in order at home.”
They exchanged conspiratorial grins.
“I shan’t tell your mother,” Lord Sherton assured her. “But I’m fairly certain you ought not be here at this time.”
Hilaria sighed. “But it was just what I needed, so I shall thank you for keeping my secrets.”
“I’m sorry you aren’t enjoying your Season, Hil. Is there anything I can do to make it better?”
“Transport me back to my infancy and ensure you arranged a marriage for me with an appropriate heir to a dukedom,” she replied promptly, with a grin.
“If only I had thought to invent such an ability instead of spending so much time studying my favourite Latin verbs.”
Hilaria nodded seriously. “Might have been a better use of your time.”
Lord Sherton laughed. “Get out of my chair, you rascal. It’s my turn at the desk.”
Hilaria joined his laughter but did as he bade, adding a light kiss to his cheek as he took her place.
“Dukes aren’t the only eligible noblemen, though, Hilaria, I’m sure you realize. And I never wanted you to be without choice in such an important matter, so I’m not sure that I would be comfortable making such an arrangement for you.”
“I know, Father, but it’s an amusing thought, none the less. It would have made things simpler.”
“For you, perhaps, but some of your sisters would not have taken well to it.”
With a smile and a nod, Hilaria left her father to his work. It was a senseless argument anyway. It was far too late to wish for an arranged marriage at this point. And he was right. Even she might not appreciate such an arrangement. Despite her desire to wed a duke, she knew his title couldn’t be the only thing to recommend a man. She wouldn’t be able to find happiness with a duke who didn’t appreciate his position. Like some of the royal dukes. They would surely drive her mad with frustration.
As she climbed the stairs back to her bedroom, Hilaria pondered whether her sisters were correct. Was she actually foolish for insisting on wedding a duke? But it was the only thing that made her think as though she could get over her disappointment in not being able to inherit Sherton. So, she would stick to her determination. She would be sure to examine Debrett’s the next day. For now, she needed to do as she had been bid and lie down for a few minutes before beginning the evening’s preparations.
~~~~
“You look lovely this evening.” The deep voice brought unexpected gooseflesh to her arms, and Hilaria turned to frown at the viscount.
“You needn’t say senseless platitudes to me, Eastwood.”
His frown and searching gaze let her know she should have held her tongue. “Why can you not accept a compliment? It was not a platitude, my lady. This shade particularly suits you.”
Hilaria didn’t believe him, but she appreciated his effort to be kind none the less. But she waved that aside and tried to focus on their scheme.
“Have you been here long, Eastwood? It seems to be well crowded already. Have you heard from your mother yet?”
She was jumbling all her thoughts together, and the viscount was going to think her an imbecile. Hilaria took a moment to pull her thoughts together and managed to stop the flow of words.
“Are you feeling anxious about our plans, my lady?” Eastwood’s face showed his concern for a moment, but he made an obvious effort not to draw undue attention to their conversation. Hilaria offered him a smile, knowing it wasn’t quite sincere.
