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Chapter Nine
Hilaria couldn’t sit still. She had driven herself and her maid nearly to tears with her indecision over what to wear. She was being beyond ridiculous. If she were able to watch herself, she was sure she would have all sorts of terrible, sarcastic commentary on how foolish she was.
But she had never been courted.
And no amount of telling herself that this was fake and meant nothing could convince whatever part of her was insisting on acting like a ninny that there was no reason to act like said ninny. Instead, Hilaria felt as though she had become a spectator at a farce, with herself in the starring role. It was the most dreadful and ridiculous situation she had ever found herself in.
And she couldn’t wait for Eastwood to arrive.
Their receiving rooms were nearly full, even though Rosabel wasn’t there. Everyone wished to discuss the wedding, which felt like weeks or months ago to Hilaria, despite it having only been a few days.
It was hard for her to believe it had only been days. Just a small handful of days ago she had met Viscount Eastwood. Now, they were partners in a reckless scheme. And spending far too much time together. If only she could stop thinking about him. And if only she could stop jumping at every sound wondering if he had finally arrived. She didn’t even like the ridiculous fop, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. And she didn’t want to wed a viscount. Especially not one who amused himself with fisticuffs and dressed far better than she ever could.
But he danced like a dream.
Finally, the butler was at the door, about to announce more arrivals. Hilaria’s eyes met his and for a moment, everything around her and even within her stilled. It was an exquisite sensation. If only it could last. But with a blink of her eyes, the sounds of the crowded salon filled her ears, and someone stepped in front of her view. Eastwood was bowing over Lady Sherton’s hand, and Hilaria forced herself to acknowledge something that someone had said to her. If only she could remember what they had said. She smiled and nodded, hoping that was a sufficiently appropriate response.
After all, she thought with a tinge of her usual waspish tone, everyone was far more interested in what they themselves had to say,they probably didn’t care what her response was.
“Lady Hilaria,” a warm, low voice spoke just behind her. “Is this seat available?”
She hadn’t even noticed that the person who had been seated there had left. Hilaria fought against the tide of colour that wanted to rise in her face as she nodded, just barely managing to meet his gaze. He was smiling but appeared puzzled.
“Are you well?” he asked softly.
“Of course, why do you ask?”
He shrugged, which brought her attention finally to the bright blue of the coat that was stretched across his broad shoulders. Hilaria expected it was fine tailoring, but she blinked at the colour. The viscount would be noticeable wherever he went. He was fortunate that he had the physique to stand up under the attention. The thought brought a smile to her face as she awaited his response.
“You seem… preoccupied, I suppose, is the best word for it,” he murmured, although her smile seemed to have reassured him. “I was just wondering if all was well with you.”
Hilaria glanced around as discretely as she could, not wanting to appear as though they were telling secrets, but then thought better of it. It might draw even more attention if it did appear such.
“To be honest with you, I have been nearly beside myself in such a ridiculous fashion. But now that you’re here, it seems to have subsided. It must have been the anticipation. Now that we’ve begun and there’s no backing out, my nerves can settle.”
“Or perhaps you find my presence reassuring.”
Hilaria almost snorted but managed to turn it into a little cough. “Not likely, but you’re welcome to think so.”
Her comment seemed to amuse the man, as a grin spread across his face. “Thank you, my lady, I will go ahead and do so.”
She couldn’t help it. Hilaria laughed. All eyes in the room turned to stare at the pair of them. She knew it was rare that she would laugh, but she didn’t expect to draw all eyes. Heat filled her face, but she tried to keep her features as neutral as possible and her gaze affixed to Eastwood. He was smiling as though they had shared a great jest.
“Might I have a pastry, do you suppose?” He kept his tone bland but his eyes were dancing with amusement. Hilaria jumped up to retrieve the treat for him, and the rest of the occupants of the room returned to their previous occupations.
While the viscount happily munched on the pastries she had collected for him, Hilaria tried not to grow too uncomfortable under the scrutiny they faced. Even though everyone else had ostensibly returned to their conversations, Hilaria could feel the attention on them. She didn’t think it was just paranoia. She could see the furtive glances that accompanied the whispers.
“We’re certainly drawing attention,” she murmured to Eastwood as he set his plate down gently. Hilaria was impressed with his ability to eat everything on his plate without a single stray crumb leaving itself upon his person. Once again, she was reminded that he was prettier than she was.
“Would you care to go for a walk?”
Hilaria stared at him. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, stalling for time as she tried to decide if she actually wanted to go for a walk with the gentleman.
She wasn’t enjoying the scrutiny of the others in the room, but they had agreed upon this course of action. Hilaria always had trouble shifting her direction once set upon a plan, and this was certainly no exception. And, she reminded herself, she didn’t like the man, so she didn’t want to spend any more time with him than was necessary. But why she needed to keep reminding herself of that, she couldn’t say. In between remembering, she kept finding herself actually enjoying his company. It was disconcerting. But rather than explain any of that to the man who already had far too healthy an opinion of himself, Hilaria finally asked for further clarification.
“Wasn’t the whole point of this afternoon for us to be seen together? I thought you intended to stay longer before we went for a walk.”
“True. But we’ve already been seen together. Now, people are whispering. But if we’re seen leaving together, there will be even more to talk about, don’t you think? And really, there’s no one of interest here at the moment. I would far rather stretch my legs than sit around overstaying my welcome here.”
