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Chapter Twelve
Hilaria slept almost until noon the next morning. That shouldn’t have surprised anyone since they had been out until nearly dawn the night before, but as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes Hil thought about her scheme with Eastwood and hoped it would pay off soon. She longed to return to country life.
A quiet afternoon of reading in her father’s study and a stroll around the block with her sister seemed to have restored her spirits and she was almost looking forward to the Rosedale Ball they were promised to attend that night. Hilaria and her maid worked especially hard on her toilette that evening. After the events at the musicale, Hil was certain she would be under extra scrutiny wherever they went that night and she was determined to look as presentable as possible.
“Might I have the pleasure of escorting you on the dance floor?”
The shiver that accompanied Eastwood’s deeply toned invitation should have felt familiar by now, but Hilaria thrilled and despaired over it nonetheless.Why did the man have to affect her so?She turned to him with a slight smile.
“I’m fairly certain the pleasure will be mine,” she answered as she placed her hand in his. It was to be a waltz it sounded like. Of course, it was, she thought with another shiver that she hoped he wouldn’t sense.
“Are you well?” he asked with a frown.
“Of course, why do you ask?”
“I thought you might’ve had a chill.”
“In this press of people? Not likely. But thank you for your concern.” She paused as they swept into the dance. “How is the situation with your mother? Did she ring a peel over you after the musical evening?”
“My mother doesn’t ring peels. But, yes, it was less than pleasant,” he said with a grin. “It was quite perfect, actually. It turns out she knew your mother when they were girls. Not well, as I believe my mother is older than yours, but she was very good friends with a cousin of your mother’s, so they had some interactions in the past. I have received the impression they weren’t the most pleasant encounters.” He paused, grinning again. “I couldn’t have chosen better, and I didn’t even know it.”
Hilaria blinked, staring up into the viscount’s handsome face. “You are quite unnatural, Eastwood,” she declared without heat, rather fascinated by the man’s unusually combatant feelings toward his mother.
Eastwood shrugged and stepped her into the next turn, dexterously moving them around the dance floor. It was such a pleasure to follow him in the dance, but Hilaria reminded herself she was playing a role and needed to keep her wits about her. She allowed her gaze to travel around the room as they circulated it.
As her eyes landed on the viscount’s mother, Hilaria was surprised to note that both Lady Eastwood and the woman she was speaking with were watching them, and it appeared that they were whispering quite frantically amongst themselves.
She cleared her throat. “Eastwood,” she began hesitantly. “What do you suppose is the likelihood that your mother will try to slander me amongst her cronies in an attempt to redirect your interest?”
“Why would you ask? I wouldn’t expect she would feel the need to make anything up. The fact that you’re not a princess is enough in her mind to make you unacceptable.”
Hilaria laughed at that and shook her head but persisted in her questioning. “She seems to be discussing you or me or us with someone over there. I believe it’s Lady Evans. Are you familiar with her?”
She was surprised to see his jaw tighten. What an odd mixture of contradictions the viscount was.
“I’m familiar. She and my mother are the best of friends. I was fairly certain Lady Evans could be relied upon to carry tales to my mother. It is likely she who sent the message that brought Mother so quickly down upon us.”
Hilaria studied the viscount as they continued to circle the dance floor. She barely had to pay attention to the steps, as he was such a good dancer and took the lead marvellously. She hesitated to comment on his words but decided it couldn’t be helped.
“So we should actually be happy about it, right?” She hated the hesitant tone of her voice, but, with a mental shrug, decided it couldn’t be helped.
~~~~
Camden Eastwood knew himself for a fool. As he danced the pretty young woman through the crowds of the Rosedale Ball, he inwardly cringed over the hesitant tone of her voice. She had been fierce and defiant when he’d met her. He should have known it was a bad idea to bring a young woman into his scheme against his mother. He had begun to suspect, almost immediately, that her desire to wed a duke had nothing to do with her feeling similarly to his mother. And now she was trying to comfort or soothe him. It defied his ability to imagine anything worse. He needed to end this farce. But how? If he dropped her instantly, it would probably worsen her prospects, besides bringing his mother far too much glee for his peace of mind.
“Have you ever heard the expression, ‘be careful what you wish for since you just might get it’?”
She wrinkled her nose in the adorable way she had a habit of and tilted her head as though to better examine him. The nod she gave him was one to prompt him to explain rather than agreeing that she had heard it.
“I know this is what we planned, but the reality isn’t quite what I had hoped.”
She hummed a non-committal answer at first while continuing to examine him. Cam fought the instinct to give her a set down for trying to understand him. He also fought the urge to fidget under her scrutiny.
“In what way are you disappointed with what we’ve achieved? Is your victory over your mother’s schemes not as sweet as you had hoped? Or are you more uncomfortable than you had expected with the scrutiny necessary to cause such a stir?”
“Both, I suppose,” he answered with a laugh. “And I think you were correct when you surmised that it would be a risk for you. I’m sorry, Hilaria.”
He couldn’t quite read all the thoughts that quickly followed each other across her face before she smoothed out her expression. He was surprised to sense that she was pleased with his words rather than dismayed.
