Page 17 of A Match of Misfortune (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #7)

Chapter Ten

T he Rothsburgs were shown into the drawing room only minutes after Cecily and her sister had gone upstairs.

They had come early, bearing news that Fredrick, Rothsburg’s younger brother, had written to inform them he would be coming to Town for a visit.

Lady Bridget planned to hold a dinner for him when he arrived, and she wished for both the Markhams and the Bradshaws to be there.

“It will be good to have him home,” Rothsburg said, taking the seat across from Nash. “I only wish he would stop frittering away time and choose a career path. He cannot make a life out of visiting friends’ estates.”

Lady Bridget released a small huff, as though this wasn’t her husband’s first time mentioning his concern. “He is only seventeen. He needn’t decide quite yet.”

Nash focused his gaze on his cousin, unable to prevent himself from voicing the question itching on his tongue. “You are to attend the theater with Featherbottom?”

“Featherbottom?” Mother asked, clearly perplexed by the unfamiliar name.

Rothsburg smiled, seemingly untroubled by his flagrant betrayal. “Lord Harlow’s given name is Lucian Featherbottom. We went to Eton together.”

Mother gave a nod of understanding.

“It is not too late to send your regrets,” Nash offered.

Mother’s confused gaze fell on him. “Is there a cause for your concern?”

Nash didn’t have something concrete, per se, but his intuition told him that Featherbottom was not all that different from the young man Nash had known at school.

The young man who had touted every academic accomplishment over Nash, not that Nash cared to be a top performer or a professor’s favorite pupil.

In all honesty, Featherbottom was almost certainly more prideful and self-assured now considering his rise in station.

So if Cecily would not heed his admonition, it would be good to warn the others.

Particularly Lady Bridget with the way she seemed to encourage Cecily toward him.

“He’s likely attempting to court her because he thinks it will irk me. That has always been the way with him.”

Mother’s head quirked slightly in consideration. “Why should he think it would irk you?”

Rothsburg took a sip of his tea. “Other than Nash’s blatant effort to prevent Lord Harlow from asking Miss Bradshaw to dance?”

“What else was I to do?” Nash tossed up a hand. “Stand aside while he looked at her like a prize for the taking? I would not stand for it. She is a guest of my parents, and as you were not inclined to assist her, the responsibility fell to me.”

Lady Bridget set her teacup on its saucer and placed it on the table. “There was nothing untoward in Lord Harlow’s manners. Many gentlemen were far less discreet in their appreciation of her beauty.”

“That is hardly reassuring. What sort of gentleman gawks at a lady? It’s deplorable.”

Rothsburg aimed his vexing smirk at Nash, and Nash was already regretting his comment. “I am curious as to your definition of the word gawk ,” he said. “For the way you looked at Miss Bradshaw before your dance began, I can’t think of a more fitting word.”

Nash gave a loud laugh to compensate for the discomfort at having been caught in his moment of weakness. “You mustn’t say such ridiculous things in front of my mother. The last thing she needs is to get her hopes up about Miss Bradshaw and me making a match.”

Lady Bridget’s eyes widened. “Is that a hope of yours, Mrs. Markham?”

Mother’s cheeks pinked. “I admit, it had been at one time. But I have since accepted it is not to be. Not with Nash living in India.”

And not with how adamant Cecily was in her dislike of him.

“Speaking of matches,” Bridget’s eyes danced with excitement. “Did Cecily share how many gentlemen came to call on her this morning?”

“She did not mention the particulars, only that there were several callers.”

“It does not surprise me she did not speak of it, but several is a vast understatement. Had I not instructed our butler to refuse the late arrivals and tell them to return Monday, we’d likely still be there. I’ve hardly seen the likes of it.”

Nash’s gaze shot from Lady Bridget to his mother and back again as though he had not heard her correctly. Gentlemen were lining up for Cecily? That must be why there were so many blasted bouquets about. Not that he was surprised, just … he wasn’t even sure what he was.

A knock at the door sounded, and Caldwell entered. “Mrs. Markham, Nurse has sent word that Master Jamison and Master Theo are ready for you to come say goodnight.”

Mother gave an apologetic smile to their guests. “If you will excuse me a moment. ”

Lady Bridget stood, taking hold of her reticule. “Actually, if it is not too presumptuous of me, I was hoping I might go upstairs and see if Cecily requires assistance.”

“I’m certain she would be grateful for your company.” Mother smiled and gestured for Lady Bridget to join her.

With one last glance at her husband, Lady Bridget stepped through the door just ahead of Mother.

After the door closed, Nash leaned back into his chair, attempting a casual posture despite feeling anything but. “Were there truly as many callers for Miss Bradshaw as your wife seemed to imply?”

Rothsburg looked far too pleased to resume the conversation. “When I returned from White’s this afternoon, gentlemen were still lined up outside the drawing room. The bouquets in your entry hall are not even half of what she received.”

Did these men really think they could win Cecily’s good opinion with flowers? Not that he hadn’t sent Lady Darlington a large bouquet this morning as an apology, but that was different. Cecily was not easily impressed. Except regarding Featherbottom apparently. Nash shook his head.

“Does that bother you to hear?” Rothsburg asked.

“Of course not. Why would it?”

One side of Rothsburg’s mouth lifted ever so slightly. “I have a suspicion.”

“Well, your suspicion is wrong.”

Rothsburg smirked in a most telling manner. “How do you know what it is?”

Nash pinned him with a look. “Because you voiced a similar conjecture before I left for India.”

Rothsburg was now wearing his full, facer-worthy smile.

“You were wrong then, and you are wrong now. I do not care for her. The woman can hardly tolerate me.”

“But that’s what makes her a rare treasure.”

Nash took to shaking his head again .

Rothsburg considered him a moment before leaning into his own chair, mirroring Nash’s posture. “Bridget and I stopped in at your townhouse before coming here. We wanted to see how you were faring after last night, but the butler said you are not residing there at present.”

“My uncle has apparently found a second will and submitted it,” Nash said, attempting to overlook his current state of agitation. “If the Court of Chancery is ineffective at deciphering frauds, then I shall lose the inheritance.”

Rothsburg’s mouth hung agape, and he leaned forward in his chair again, his elbows resting on his knees. “Are you in earnest?”

“Unfortunately.”

“But that makes no sense.”

“I know. The fact that my great-aunt’s solicitor had no notion there was a?—”

“Not that.” His gaze searched Nash’s. “Things like this don’t happen to you, let alone several of them at once—the incident with Lady Darlington, the will, having to remove from your residence. And that is to say nothing of the way gentlemen at White’s were speaking about you today.”

Nash’s brow furrowed. “What were they saying?”

Rothsburg stilled, as though he had not meant to say that part. “It is no matter.”

“Come now. You cannot leave it there.”

Rothsburg grimaced. “I not only heard you referred to as a nabob, but also as an upstart who intends to marry into the aristocracy. I imagine the last bit was because of your selecting Lady Victoria as a dance partner straightaway.”

“I only asked her because Lord Chatting had made the introduction and it had seemed ill-mannered not to request to partner with her.” Nash released a heavy breath. “Not that it matters what others think.”

And yet, even as he said it, he knew it did.

It had to. For the sake of his business ventures, he had to figure out how to right all of this.

Ideally, before the membership vote at White’s.

His potential investors needed to know how capable he was.

That he was a man who could be trusted with their funds.

Rothsburg’s expression grew contemplative. “No, but it does matter you seem to have lost your luck.”

Rothsburg’s words instantly sent Nash’s thoughts to his conversation with Cecily at the end of the set they’d danced. The conversation that had taken place directly before he tripped into Lady Darlington. The conversation where he had playfully offered his luck to Cecily.

“I gave it to her!” The thought slipped from him before he realized how ludicrous it was.

One could not give away luck, particularly when he’d never believed luck was an actual consideration.

He’d obviously been in the company of sailors too long these past months and had allowed their superstitions to get the better of him.

But then, what other explanation could there be for the things that had happened after his conversation with Cecily had taken place?

Ludicrous or not, it was worth a try.

Rothsburg tilted his head to one side. “What did you give? And to whom?”

“Never mind.” Nash stood. “I shall be back momentarily.”

“Where are you going?” Rothsburg watched him walk toward the door with a look of puzzlement.

“I must speak with Miss Bradshaw.”

“Nash, you cannot go now. She is?—”

Rothsburg’s protest faded as Nash headed into the corridor and started up the stairs at a hurried pace. However mad Cecily might consider him, at least this was some sort of plan. Besides, it wasn’t as though she could think less of him than she already did.