Page 13 of A Viscount to Conspire (Sherton Sisters 2)

“Well, mentioning it isn’t going to help,” Cam grumbled, keeping his gaze fixed to the mirror. Finally, with a shout of delight, he managed to complete the knot he had been planning. It wasn’t quite to his usual standard, but it would do. And would, no doubt, be far better than any other at the evening’s ball.

“Thank you, Albert,” he finally said as the other man helped ease him into his coat. It would be challenging to do it himself, as the fabric was designed to fit him perfectly. “I’d best not eat too much supper tonight,” he commented as he surveyed himself critically in the mirror. “I will try not to keep you up too late tonight, but I cannot tell you not to bother waiting for me, as I cannot guarantee that I could get myself out of this without damaging it.”

The valet grinned at his employer. “I wouldn’t think of retiring before you, my lord.”

Cam returned the man’s smile, grateful for at least one member of his household that he could count on to be loyal. He had hired the man himself when he had come of age, without any influence from his mother.

“I am reasonably certain you shall be the best dressed gentleman at your festivities this evening, my lord, if I might be so bold as to say so.”

“You may always be so bold, Albert. I appreciate the boost of confidence.”

“I don’t expect you would need the boost, my lord, as I’m sure you’re always the best dressed.”

Cam grinned at the older man but still countered, “How would you know, though, Albert? You haven’t attended any of my events.”

“Perhaps not, but I do not always sit in this room. There have been plenty of opportunities for me to observe your contemporaries.”

The other man’s insistence was gratifying for Camden. While he too had eyes, he never received commendation, so it was a comfort to hear something good from someone else. He was less comfortable with the compassionate expression in the valet’s eyes. Cam didn’t want anyone’s sympathy.

“Very good, Albert, I shall see you later.”

“Enjoy your evening, my lord.”

Cam’s face felt tight as he nodded in acknowledgment of the man’s words. Enjoyment was too much to ask. He would settle for achieving his aims. He supposed he would enjoy that accomplishment. Throwing back his shoulders, Cam strode from the room, determined to get started with his plans. He had a ball to attend. For the first time in ages, he was actually anticipating the event.

When he arrived, the ball was already well underway. Their hostess would be able to boast that her event had been a crush of some significance. Cam couldn’t understand why hostesses wanted to jam so many people into their receiving rooms that no one could be comfortable. He rather thought an event would be far more enjoyable for all involved if there were about half the people in attendance. But upon second thought, Cam doubted he would enjoy it either way. Most of the people present were two-faced gossipers that he wouldn’t choose to spend time with. If not for the sitting of the House of Lords, Cam would prefer to never set foot in London. But here he was, and he had things to accomplish.

Looking around, Cam tried to see if the Shertons had yet arrived. With a jolt, he realized he was actually anticipating seeing Hilaria again. It was a strange sensation. He had never looked forward to seeing a woman in a purely platonic way. And he didn’t even like the chit. Or so he thought. It was a strange mixture of sensations that he felt for her, he realized.

And then his heart felt as though it skipped a beat when he finally saw her. Which was the most fanciful sensation he had ever experienced. He was turning into a school girl. How embarrassing.

Her hair was tied up all in knots with sparkles here and there as though the light were getting caught in it. Cam expected none of the ladies would refer to their hair as being in knots, but he didn’t know what else to call it. Knots could be elegant, he insisted to himself as he took in the rest of her. Despite his own interests in fashion, he hadn’t paid attention to female terminology.

The light green of her gown made her eyes appear brighter than they had that afternoon. She must have enjoyed the dance she had just participated in, as her cheeks were still slightly flushed. Until her gaze met his, and then her face suddenly paled before a tide of pink seemed to again suffuse her features.

Cam’s long strides ate up the distance between them, despite the many people in the way.

“Good evening, my lady,” he murmured as he bent over her gloved hand. He could feel a tremor go through her, and he wondered at it. But her face, when he glanced up at her, revealed nothing. He admired that ability. Cam had noticed that her sister Rosabel had the skill of hiding her feelings remarkably well and marvelled at it. Their younger sister didn’t seem to have developed the same ability. Even Hilaria wasn’t as stoic as their oldest sister. The fact that he had felt her tremor revealed that she wasn’t able to hide everything. He appreciated that. Cam didn’t like or trust the woman, but he needed to be able to read her well. It was a relief to know that he could, or at least to a sufficient extent.

Hilaria hadn’t yet replied when Cam heard the music starting up.

“It’s a waltz,” he said, probably unnecessarily. “I believe it’s our dance.”

She kept her smile contained and still didn’t say anything, but she placed her hand trustingly in his. Despite the crowds, Cam swung her effortlessly onto the dance floor and into the flow of the dancers. Her smile brightened as they went through the steps. She was one of the most graceful dancers he had ever had the pleasure of partnering. He frowned as he remembered their conversation that afternoon.

“I thought you said you were clumsy.”

Her smile stretched her face and even reached her eyes. “What I said was that I lack grace. But I can be clumsy if there’s no music.”

Cam nodded. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Hilaria’s gaze turned dreamy, and she allowed her focus to drift over his shoulder. Cam would be offended, but he knew she was just that deeply enjoying the dance. She had warned him, in a way, when she had demanded to know whether or not he was a decent dancer.

They were about halfway through the time of their dance when Cam finally broke the silence.

“We probably ought to appear as though we are enjoying one another’s company.”

She blinked at him as though confused for a moment before another smile spread across her face.

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