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The tingling along the back of her neck led Hilaria to believe that someone else was also staring at her. As discreetly as possible, she looked around to find the source and couldn’t have been more surprised to encounter the malevolent glare of Viscountess Eastwood. Hilaria almost flinched under the icy stare but managed to convey almost no reaction. Or so she thought. Once again, Eastwood was looking at her with concern shining warmly in his eyes.
“You just flinched.”
“No, I didn’t,” she retorted, certain of this fact. She had worked hard to gain such control over herself.
“You might not think so and no one else might have noticed, but I can assure you, you flinched.”
Hilaria sighed. Perhaps she had.
“Your mother is burning a hole in the side of my head.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“Her glare is burning a hole in my hair. It’s going to start to sizzle any moment.”
Laughter was now dancing in his eyes as they met her gaze. It was all she could do not to giggle in response. It felt so good to share a joke with him. But that didn’t change the fact that Lady Eastwood was glaring at her.
“Shall we give her something to really concern herself with?”
The viscount’s deep voice and low tone combined with his proximity sent a delicious shiver down Hilaria’s back, causing her to frown. How could a shiver be enjoyable? And how could she be feeling so drawn to Eastwood? She committed herself to think on it later. In the meantime, she had not yet answered his question, and she didn’t trust that gleeful glint in his direct gaze.
“Do not ruin me, Eastwood.”
His rich chuckle sounded out over the musicians’ melodies, bringing all eyes in the room toward them. At least, all those who hadn’t already been watching them, Hilaria grumbled to herself, fighting her blushes at the attention.
“Behave yourself,” she admonished him, but it lost all heat in the low tone. Besides, Hilaria couldn’t really find it within herself to be angry with him. She had never felt herself to be the object of someone’s undivided attention. In that moment, she felt as though Eastwood’s entire focus was upon her. She blinked herself out of the strange lethargy it caused. It was likely an illusion anyway, she thought, dismissing the warmth it had brought on.
“I’ve never known someone who blushes so delicately as you do,” he whispered to her. “Most women either don’t blush at all, as they’ve become inured to embarrassment or shame, or they are cursed with harsh blushes. Yours are remarkably attractive.” And then he grinned as she blushed once more.
Part of Hilaria wanted to get up and leave the situation she had found herself in. But the rest of her wanted to curl into the viscount’s warmth and bask in the attention. Of course, she did neither. Stiffening her spine, she kept her eyes trained upon the musicians and made every effort to actually appreciate the music they were providing.
But she was uncomfortable on several levels. Hilaria was reasonably sure her mother was watching them now. Lady Sherton had been surprisingly lenient so far this Season. Hilaria suspected that having three of them to contend with at the beginning of the Season and then Georgia and Rosabel’s weddings had taken the edge off her ability to rein in her debutante daughters. But she would not allow a member of her household to cause a scene.
Not that Hilaria was doing so. But being the center of attention felt very much like a scene to Hilaria, and she was all aflutter inside, even if her rigid control allowed her to hide it from all but Eastwood.
“Our mothers are both paying close attention to us now,” he commented in her ear. “I’m sorry about yours. Will she ring a peel over you later?”
“She will if you don’t stop talking, Eastwood,” Hilaria whispered, barely moving her lips, which caused the man to smile wider.
Finally, the quartet brought their last number to a resounding conclusion and the room erupted in applause. Hilaria took a deep breath of relief only to realize it was premature. Glancing around the room, Hilaria realized they would now face whispers, gossip, and speculation.
“It’s what we wanted, right?” she said more to herself than anything, but Eastwood answered her anyway.
“It’s what we intended. I don’t know if it’s what we actually wanted.”
Hilaria smiled at him in appreciation of his understanding. How could they be in such harmony and yet be so very different? It was the strangest thing. She shook it off, pulling her focus back to the matter at hand. Their mothers were watching them as though they had committed the worst sort of atrocity. Or rather Eastwood’s mother was. Lady Sherton’s hopeful expression made Hilaria feel as though she had committed a sin of the worst order.
Closing her mind to both of those things, she looked up to Eastwood and asked, “Are you ready for this?”
“Of course.” His assured tone made Hilaria feel completely alone for the briefest moment before she shut her mind to that and decided to be glad he was so confident. She would borrow some of it for herself, she decided in that moment, if she couldn’t manage to have confidence of her own.
Hilaria kept her chin up even as she encountered sly glances from their fellow guests at the musicale. Fighting the embarrassment that was threatening to overwhelm her kept her from worrying overmuch about the possible scene Lady Eastwood might cause. Hilaria was fairly certain her mother wouldn’t allow the other woman to cause too great a scene. That knowledge was powerfully comforting and allowed her to remain where she was rather than running away like a craven child.
Lifting her chin a little more, Hilaria reminded herself that even if she could never be Sherton’s heir, there was no reason why she couldn’t behave as she ought. She stiffened her spine and bolstered her bravery.
And ignored the shivers that threatened to give away her terrible awareness of the man at her side. If only he were a duke.
Smiling and nodding as various acquaintances clustered around her and her sister, Hilaria was relieved when Eastwood finally took his leave of her. For propriety’s sake, he couldn’t dance attendance on her the entire evening. Not unless he was ready to send an announcement to the papers. Which they both knew was never going to happen.
