Even so, she couldn’t let go of their moments together when everything felt easy. When in his company she often forgot, much to her emotional detriment, that what occurred betweenthem was built on a false premise. She knew there were moments when the reality of their situation slipped away from West as well. The evidence of that still present on her lips, plump from his arduous kiss.
Reaching up to touch her tender mouth, she could feel tears welling and hated herself for her weakness.
She knew full well that West was far from perfect. There was the aforementioned stubbornness along with the quick temper and possessiveness she had witnessed this morning. But wasn’t that a sign his feelings for her were growing as well? No, he wasn’t perfect, but no one was, and she had a strong suspicion that he just might be perfect for her.
After her time at Stern’s sickbed, Priscilla knew she was strong enough to handle his temper and blunt enough to call him out for his possessive tendencies. She could stand toe to toe with him and knew he respected her for it. West easily backed down earlier once she’d had a chance to say her piece and made him see reason.
And there was so much to admire about him too. West had a strong sense of what was morally right and wrong and would do what he thought best, even when it flew in the face of convention. While he wanted his family name to be respected, he wanted it for the right reasons and was willing to work for it. He possessed integrity, something that most noblemen were sorely lacking, and was trying so hard to piece his family back together. Just thinking of his intelligence and wit made her heart melt.
It was all such a mess. Calming herself, she called for Emma. After being caught in the rain, she would need help making herself presentable for dinner that evening.
Priscilla was calm again a few hours later, though not in the best mood. She would likely make a terrible dinner guest this evening and felt bad considering she probably never should have been invited in the first place. But she had already missed luncheon, being too upset to eat when they had returned, so it would be unspeakably rude for her to miss dinner as well.
At least she looked decent now. Emma had helped style her hair, using the curls the rain had produced to advantage in a sweeping updo with cascading curls. She’d also packed a beautiful new dress in a deep berry color for the birthday celebrations. The lush fabric felt like armor, shielding her from feeling even more for the host than she already did.
Priscilla saw West conversing with a group in the foyer as she descended the stairs. Looking up, he visibly swallowed at the sight of her. She couldn’t tell if it made her happy or even more despondent to know she affected him.
Cumberland also sent a smile her way, though it bordered on more of a smirk. She wasn’t sure she could emotionally handle him tonight and would attempt to steer clear of him as much as possible.
Thankfully, it was Ethan who held out his arm when she reached the group gathered in the foyer. She gave a grateful smile and accepted wordlessly as he led her into the drawing room, awaiting the call for dinner.
Priscilla noticed everyone was in their finest to celebrate John as she joined the larger group. It seemed she was the last lady to arrive, so as Ethan settled her down in one of the chairs, West and Elias followed into the room.
There was a pleasant buzz of conversation, but she was glad Ethan had placed her in a chair, distanced from any small talk, which she much preferred in her current state of continuing unease. Thankfully, everyone left her to herself and glasses of champagne were passed around in preparation of speeches.
Once everyone had been served, West stood in front of the fireplace, cleared his throat, and raised his glass.
“Tonight, we are celebrating getting to share thirty years of life with my brother, John. One of the best men I know, and the most intelligent.” There was a smattering of polite laughter across the room as he continued, and Priscilla heard someone speaking about John’s head always being in a book. “I trust his advice implicitly. He is the brain behind our new business ventures, and a kinder person than anyone else in this room.”
Looking over at the man of the hour, Priscilla saw him blush at his brother’s praise. From what she’d gathered from West and conversation within the family, praise was not something frequently shared under the reign of the previous patriarch. She was glad that John was finally being recognized by his family and hearing how much they valued him.
“So let’s all raise a glass to John and hope for at least thirty more years,” West concluded, raising his own glass even higher.
“Hear, hear,” was heard all about the room, everyone clinking their glasses before partaking in the bubbly drink.
The sweet moment eased some of the tension within Priscilla, and she found herself smiling with those around her, glad for the moment that she had accepted the marchioness’ invitation and decided to join the Beaumont family. For tonight, she would try and set aside her complicated feelings about West and simply enjoy the celebratory mood of the evening.
The dinner bell rang soon after, and Ethan once again came to take her arm and escorted her to the table while West accompanied his mother. Her levity was short-lived, though,when she discovered that Lord Cumberland was placed next to her for the dinner that evening.
She looked over at the marchioness in surprise at the arrangement. In return, the lady simply gave her a wink and smile. Priscilla strongly suspected she was attempting to play match maker again. She wouldn’t put it past the woman to have noticed her son’s unease with the attention Cumberland was paying her, placing Priscilla next to the earl purposely to make her son aware of his jealousy. She might have appreciated the machinations a day ago, hoping they would work in her favor, making West aware of his feelings for her beyond just the ones they were feigning, but after today it felt like an added strain.
“Well, well. Isn’t this my lucky day?” Cumberland drawled next to her. “I’ll have to thank Lady Hampton for the delightful placement this evening.”
Priscilla smiled at him politely but didn’t respond. Instead, she spent most of the evening conversing with West’s uncle, seated to her other side. He was a delightful man, and she could see why West enjoyed him so much and was trying to unite the two sides of the family. He must have missed having his uncle in his life to act as a buffer against his father’s controlling nature.
But throughout the meal, Cumberland kept trying to steal her attention, and it was wearing on her last nerve, irritated as they already were. She had to actively restrain herself from sniping at him, as she would have when a young debutant. But she believed all people should be treated with respect these days, and she certainly did not want to cause a scene in front of the Beaumonts.
Priscilla also understood exactly what Cumberland was trying to do and she would play no part in his plans to irritate his cousin. She did sympathize with the way he and his mother had been treated by the previous marquess, but that didn’t mean heshould be taking it out on West by trying to toy with the woman he believed his cousin’s beloved.
After dinner concluded, everyone made their way to the parlor to continue the celebrations. There was some music and laughter before the parents departed, leaving the siblings and cousins to continue in conversation.
Lizzie, always chatty, seemed to be even more so with the way the drinks had been flowing all evening. Sitting next to Priscilla, she nattered on about horses and news of people both sides of the family had in common. Turning toward Priscilla, she said, “You’re awfully quiet tonight. The attention from all of my male relatives not enough for you this evening?”
Something within Priscilla snapped. It had been too long and emotional of a day. Though the tone had been in jest, with Lizzie’s comment echoing West’s from that morning, she simply couldn’t take anymore.
“Well at least I’m able to get attention,” she sniped, venom in her voice. “We’re the same age, are we not? Both twenty-three? I’ve already been married and widowed, yet I don’t see any men looking toward you as a prospect.”
The room went silent, and color flamed into Lizzie’s cheeks.
