Page 47 of A Viscount to Conspire (Sherton Sisters 2)

Chapter Fifteen

“Are you ever going to tell me why you are so set on wedding a duke? I didn’t really believe your claim that you want to be called ‘Your Grace’ due to your not being graceful, as I’ve never seen you anything but.”

Hilaria laughed. “You must have been seeing me at the best of times, mostly on the dance floor, for you to say that, Eastwood, but I appreciate the compliment.”

“Don’t sidestep, Hilaria, I sincerely want to know. It seems to me there must be something rooted deep in your psyche to insist upon it. I thought, when we first met, that you were just like my mother.”

“That’s why you chose me?” Hilaria interrupted with a gasp, making Eastwood shrug and grin.

“Don’t change the subject, you’re very good at that. As I was saying, that is what I thought, but I now know I was wrong. You’re nothing like my mother. She wouldn’t give any consideration to anything but the title.”

“Now I see why you thought that, because it’s true.”

“If it were true, you would be still at home entertaining your duke or prince, not here with me, trying to decide why you’re disappointed.”

Hilaria obviously couldn’t argue with him. Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times as though she were trying to answer. Cam grinned at her, which clearly irked her, as the frown returned to her forehead.

“You are still dreadful.”

“But not wrong.”

She huffed but finally laughed along with him.

“What am I going to do, Eastwood?”

“Why must you always call me Eastwood?”

“That is your name, is it not? Are you expecting me to stand on ceremony and I call you ‘my lord’? And why are you now the one diverting the subject? Are you that disinclined to help me sort out my problem?”

Cam grinned at her litany of questions. She sounded perturbed, but he could tell from the hand clutching his arm that there was very little heat in her protests. Patting her hand as though to soothe her, Cam tried to answer her questions.

“I would be honoured if you were to call me by my given name.”

“Calling you Camden would be far too familiar, surely.”

Cam shrugged. “While we’re in private it shouldn’t matter.”

“But then I’ll forget and call you that in company, and then we’ll be in the suds for sure.”

“Or it would give further credence to my courtship.”

“Which isn’t real,” she pointed out in a tone of strained patience. “I thought calling you Eastwood was sufficiently informal.”

“You just didn’t want to call me lord,” he drawled.

Her rich laughter rewarded his wit, but she quickly sobered.

“Very well, Camden, are you going to help me decide what I ought to do about the gentlemen?”

“I’d be happy to.” He lied right to her face because he knew it was the right answer, even if he was revolted at the thought of helping her match herself to another man. “You were surrounded by so many gentlemen last night and again today, which would you truly consider contenders for your hand?”

“Does this not sound foolish? I probably ought not to be speaking about such matters with you.”

“Why not? It could be argued that we’re family.”

“It could also be argued that we’re not.”

“Would you rather talk about something else?” Cam took a chance. He could tell she desperately wanted to discuss the matter but was having unexpected qualms.

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