Page 6 of A Virgin to Trap the Earl of Thornhill
Caught off guard, William could only reply, “Ah, Miss Fairchild, your passion for the subject is indeed remarkable.” His diplomatic reply earned him a beaming grin that threatened to swallow her face whole. He swiftly turned his attention away, finding himself drawn once again to the sight of Eris, her melodic laughter filling the air.
In the backdrop, his mother, the Dowager Countess, orchestrated her matchmaking with the skill of a seasoned puppet master. She moved through the crowd with a determination thinly veiled by her well-practiced smile and small talk. It was as if she wore a placard around her neck, the unspoken message clear: “Settle down, secure the lineage.”
Suddenly, she appeared at his side, her grip on the trembling arm of a petite young woman. “William, my dear,” she trilled, “I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Miss Abigail Pembroke.”
Miss Pembroke, daughter of the esteemed Marquess of Windermere, was known more for her substantial dowry than her charm. As the Countess introduced her, the poor girl blushed fiercely, her skin turning a shade of red that was more reminiscent of a boiled lobster than the rosy hue that graced Eris’ cheeks. She stammered out a quiet greeting, her eyes darting around the room as though seeking an escape route.
“Oh, Miss Pembroke is quite the accomplished pianist,” his mother continued, all but ignoring the young lady’s discomfort. “And she has such a fascinating insight into botany. Do engage her on the topic, William.”
Yet, his attention was caught by the sight of Eris, head thrown back in laughter at something Cassian said. Her delicate features were lit up with mirth, and even from a distance, the sight of her had him feeling as though a vice was tightening around his chest. The deep blue of her eyes that contrasted with the rich brown of her hair, the way she held herself with a confidence that seemed to overshadow the rest of the room, it was as though she were a beacon amongst the sea of faces.
His gut clenched at the sight of Cassian beside her, so innocent and taken by her charm. As he watched his brother, his own words echoed in his head, a stark reminder of his warning. He felt a sudden urge to intervene, to keep Cassian safe from what could be a potential heartbreak, and yet he found himself immobile, ensnared by his own curiosity about the woman who was causing such a stir.
The rich brocade of his waistcoat felt suffocating, the buzz of the room felt distant, and yet he stood there, rooted, torn between his role as an older brother and the nagging desire to explore the spark that Eris ignited in him.
“Lord Thornhill,” Lady Everidge’s honeyed voice broke through his reverie, “You have been so quiet. Is something bothering you?” Her brow was furrowed in concern or what he supposed was meant to look like concern.
He forced a smile, shaking his head, “Not at all, Lady Everidge. I was merely lost in thought.”
As the evening unfurled around him, his gaze inevitably found its way back to Eris. Her image was imprinted in his mind, an alluring apparition that commanded his attention. Her graceful movements, the sound of her warm laughter, the defiant tilt of her chin — they all beckoned him with an irresistible allure.
As the strains of music filled the ballroom and the chatter of guests formed a constant hum, he watched Eris with an intensity that was new, even to him. Anticipation, both exciting and daunting, built within him. A decision formed in his mind, solidifying like iron in a blacksmith’s fire.
He would not let Eris Saffron out of his sight. That promise to himself seemed as certain as the coming dawn. As the party swirled around him, oblivious to his silent resolve, the Earl of Thornhill quietly committed to a task that promised to make his life infinitely more interesting.
ChapterFive
Eris felt the change in the room’s atmosphere before she registered it with her senses. A swell of whispers and soft titters skittered across the parlor like delicate wind chimes, harmonizing with the rustle of silk and taffeta. An alluring aroma of sandalwood, mingled with the musk of horse and leather, slipped into her nostrils, making her stomach clench.
She did not need to turn to know that he had arrived. The Earl of Thornhill had made his entrance.
Refusing to glance at him, she felt the tips of her ears burning, her cheeks flaming in a blush as she remembered the earlier encounter, his threats echoing in her mind. Her heart pounded a wild rhythm against her ribs, but she swallowed her embarrassment, hiding her internal turmoil behind the carefully cultivated facade of composure that years of navigating society had bestowed upon her.
“Lieutenant Hudson,” she greeted the man who had rescued her earlier, addressing him with the respectful title his naval uniform commanded. Cassian Hudson was a tall man with an inviting smile and sparkling green eyes full of charm and energy.
“Miss Eris,” Cassian bowed, a twinkle of genuine pleasure in his eyes. “A pleasure to see you again.”
Eris returned his smile, appreciating his jovial manner. They fell into an easy conversation, discussing the latest opera in town, the delightful weather, and the beautiful garden of the castle. All the while, Eris was only half-listening, an undercurrent of anxiety twining through her mind like an unruly vine.
She was part of this glittering society, a participant in its dances, and a player in its intricate games. But beneath the veneer of grandeur and manners, she could feel the danger lurking like a tiger hidden amongst the ornamental shrubbery, waiting for its prey to let down their guard.
The tiger, in this case, was none other than the enigmatic Earl himself, William Hudson. As much as she tried to keep her mind and eyes off him, she could not help but be drawn to him like a moth to the flame. And all the while, she tried to keep reminding herself, this was the very flame that threatened to consume her if she dared venture too close.
“And there we were, in the midst of the vast Mediterranean when we spotted it — a seagull!” Cassian declared with a dramatic flourish.
Eris looked at him in amusement, her brows arched in expectation. “A seagull? How perilous indeed!”
“But not just any seagull, Miss Eris. This one… it was as large as a sheep and vicious too!”
His animated tale, filled with embellishments and humorous exaggerations, brought an unbidden laugh from her. She laughed heartily, a sound that echoed brightly amidst the low hum of chatter surrounding them. It was a delightful respite from her concerns, and she savored the lightness it brought her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the Earl. He was watching them from across the room, a glass of amber liquid held loosely in his hand, his green eyes sharp and calculating. A rush of satisfaction coursed through her.Let him watch.She was not there to dance to his tune.
As if summoned by her thoughts, her mother, Lady Saffron, appeared by her side, all beaming smiles and fluttering eyelashes. “Lieutenant Hudson,” she greeted Cassian, her voice saccharine sweet. “What an entertaining young man you are.”
Before he could respond, a tall, silver-haired Viscount summoned him away, and he excused himself with a bow. Lady Saffron turned to her, her gaze sharpening. “Eris, dear,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “you are not here to set your cap at the spare. Your target is the Earl. Do not forget that.”
Her words struck a chord in Eris, a reminder of the task at hand but also a stark contrast to the lightness she had been feeling just moments before. As she watched Cassian join the Viscount, she sighed inwardly. She was not sure what to make of her interactions with the Earl and his younger brother, but she knew one thing for certain: this fortnight was going to be more challenging than she had anticipated.
