A Viscount to Conspire (Sherton Sisters Book 2) by Wendy May Andrews

Author:Wendy May Andrews [Andrews, Wendy May]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Sparrow Ink
Published: 2020-11-18T00:00:00+00:00

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.

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