Her mother gave her a tentative smile. “He intends to offer for you. Soon, I think.”
Eleanor returned her mother’s smile, but shook her head. “He’s too young to marry.”
Too young,and too flimsy.
“He’s three-and-twenty.” Lady Catherine frowned. “Many gentlemen marry at his age.”
Chronology, alas, had little to do with maturity. Lord Tidmarsh had no business marrying until he knew better than to wager on a lady’s affections.
Perhaps some facial hair wouldhelp, as well.
“Why, he never once let you out of his sight at the Chester’s rout last week,” her mother added. “He followed you about all night.”
He had. His attentions had become so tedious she’d spend the last hour of the evening hiding in the lady’s retiring room.
“He seemed so determined, Eleanor.”
Oh, he was determined, all right. Determined towin his wager.
Eleanor crossed the room to ring the bell for tea. “Indeed, mama, you’re mistaken.”
She was wicked to tell such lies to her mother, but people oftenwerewicked, weren’t they? She thought of the cold, dismissive look Camden West had given Charlotte last night, his bored tone when he’d told Eleanor to look after her sister.
Some were much wickeder than others.
Her mother was still puzzling over Lord Tidmarsh. “I can’t account for his not making an offer—”
A quiet knock on the door interrupted the discussion, much to Eleanor’s relief. “Yes?”
Rylands, their butler, entered the room. “Excuse me, my lady. There’s a gentleman below requesting a visit with Lady Eleanor.”
A gentleman? Oh, good lord. Hadn’t she made herself clear to Lord Tidmarsh last night? He’d scurried away in a perfect sulk, and she’d thought the matter rather tidily concluded, but perhaps that was too much to hope for.
Her mother let out an irritable sigh. “We said no visitors today, Rylands.”
“Yes, my lady. I beg your pardon. This gentleman is quite insistent, I’m afraid. He demands to speak to Lady Eleanor at once.”
Drat.It did sound like Lord Tidmarsh, deep in the throes of another imaginary passion. Good Lord, her head ached. “Who is it, Rylands?”
Rylands sniffed. “I’ve never seen him before, my lady. Mr. Camden West.”
Oh, no.Eleanor’s heart leapt into her throat. “Camden West?”
No sooner did the devil cross one’s mind than he showed up at one’s door, and here was proof of it. Why, she’d rather face a dozen tragic Lord Tidmarshes than spend another moment in Camden West’s company.
Eleanor’s mother turned to her. “Who is Camden West? I don’t recognize that name.”
“You remember Julian West, I think? This other Mr. West is his cousin. He called our carriage for us last night when Charlotte was taken ill. I’m sure he’s only here to enquire after her health.”
“How kind.”
Eleanor stretched her lips into what she hoped was an agreeable smile. “Yes, isn’t it? That’s the very word that came into my head when I met him—kind.”The worst kind of devil,that is.“Very well, Rylands. I’ll be down at once.”
But Eleanor dragged her feet every step of the way to the drawing room. What could Camden West mean by coming here? He wasn’t here to inquire after Charlotte. He hadn’t batted an eye when they found her sister half naked in the Foster’s garden, and Eleanor doubted he’d developed a conscience since then.
So what in the blazes did he want?
A shiver of dread raced down her spine. Did he plan to expose Charlotte? Tell thetonthe whole sordid tale? As far as anyone knew, Charlotte had been taken ill last night, and they’d left the ball early. No one had any proof to contradict that story.
