Page 24 of A Viscount to Conspire (Sherton Sisters 2)

Chapter Seven

“Well, that was certainly interesting,” Vicky commented as they climbed up the stairs toward their bedchambers.

“What was?” Hilaria was uncomfortably certain of what her sister was talking about but hoped to brazen it out.

“Watching you flirt with a gentleman.”

“I was not flirting!” Hilaria exclaimed with heated conviction.

“It looked like flirting from where I was standing,” Vicky said with a grin. “If you don’t know what flirting is, perhaps you ought to be more circumspect with your associations.”

Hilaria glared at her sister as they stood paused on the staircase. “You are an atrocious little debutante who doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Vicky only laughed. “Your insults need work, sister dear. And I think you are protesting far too much for there not to have been truth in my words.” She started up the stairs anew. “I don’t know why you’re protesting so much. Isn’t that the entire purpose of our visit to Town? Are we not supposed to be trying to catch the eye of eligible gentlemen for the purpose of making an appropriate match?”

“Eastwood is not an appropriate match,” Hilaria scoffed, as she set off after her sister. She knew Vicky was right, she was protesting far too much, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was mortifying to think she might have been flirting with the man.Would he think the same?She would surely die of the embarrassment.

“Sure, he is. At least to anyone who hasn’t vowed to marry a duke or higher. He’s handsome, he’s titled, he’s pleasant, and he’s reputed to be ridiculously wealthy. Anyone normal would consider him to be an excellent potential husband. Did you not notice the many envious eyes watching you as you strolled along on his arm?”

Hilaria heard buzzing in her ears as though she were feeling faint. Or so she supposed. She had never felt faint in her life. She chose to ignore the buzzing as well as her sister’s words. Or so she intended until she heard herself speaking.

“Eastwood is a dandy and cannot be troubled to think past the next knot he hopes to foist upon the rest of the gentlemen. I would never do something so foolish as to set my cap on someone prettier than me.”

Suddenly, Vicky’s face was filled with sympathy, and Hilaria couldn’t bear it.

“And you’re still a foolish little debutante who doesn’t have the first clue what she’s talking about.” Hilaria nearly yelled the insults at her sister before storming past her into her room and slamming the door. Slipping down the door into a puddle of fabric, Hilaria allowed her head to bang lightly against the wood, fighting tears as frustration mounted in her chest.

“That was quite an entrance,” her maid commented from the corner of the room, making Hilaria yelp with surprise.

“Oh, Sally! I didn’t see you there.”

“So I supposed,” she answered with a grin. “What has you so down, if I might be so bold as to ask?”

Hilaria regained her feet, feeling awkward and ungainly, wishing she hadn’t made a scene. She would probably have to apologize to her sister. But she didn’t have to explain herself to the maid, she argued, despite the familiarity of a servant who had been with her for years.

“I couldn’t even say, Sally, to be perfectly honest. Perhaps, I’m just getting burnt in the socket from all this junketing about Town. I think I’ll run to the library and see if my father is there.” The comforting predictability of reviewing the books would set her to rights, she was sure.

“Would you like me to help you to change or adjust your hair in any way before you go?”

Hilaria glanced down at herself. She was still in her walking gown, but there was nothing remarkable about it in either direction. There would be nothing wrong with her staying as she was.

“No, thank you, Sally, but I will need help getting ready for the evening in a little while.”

“Perhaps a bath?” the maid suggested, making Hilaria smile.

“That would probably be for the best, thank you.”

Without any further words, she slipped from the room, hoping not to encounter anyone else until she gained her father’s library. It was not to be, sadly. Hilaria encountered her mother as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Hilaria, are you going back out? You’re still in your walking dress.”

With a shrug, Hilaria tried to excuse herself. “I didn’t feel bothered to change. I was just on my way to see Father.”

“I don’t think he’s still here, my dear,” Lady Sherton answered. “You’re looking a little peaked. Perhaps you ought to be lying down.”

“I’m fine. I’ll just run to the library for a few minutes, whether Father is there or not.”

Lady Sherton’s shrewd gaze assessed her daughter, and Hilaria tried not to fidget under the scrutiny. Finally, the countess nodded.

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