Page 25 of A Match of Misfortune (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #7)

Chapter Fifteen

N ash glanced across the table at Cecily.

She’d been avoiding meeting his eye since they’d taken their seats—over three courses ago.

He supposed he couldn’t blame her. The look he’d shot her when Lady Bridget had shared the news of Lord Harlow’s impending proposal could have used a bit of restraint on his part.

But he’d been so caught off his guard. So unexpectedly …

livid. It was one thing for Featherbottom to court Cecily.

It was another thing entirely for him to offer for her.

Nash knew the cad would not ask for her hand simply to spite him, but that would certainly be an added benefit for the man.

And the worst part of it all was that he didn’t doubt Cecily would accept the offer.

It was true she had seemed surprised by the news, but what other reason would she have to refuse him?

According to Lady Bridget, it was precisely the sort of match Cecily had hoped for.

An accomplishment she’d likely been waiting years to achieve—to be a countess.

Mother softly touched his arm. “Nash, might I have a small portion of the venison?”

“Of course.” With how distracted he was, Nash was doing an abysmal job of attending to her and Adelaide, who were seated on either side of him.

He took hold of the plate, shifting it toward her, when a bit of resistance was immediately followed by a loud clanking sound.

Before he realized what had happened, his mother shot to her feet and lifted the edge of the tablecloth to prevent the spilled wine from flowing off the table.

Nash nearly moaned aloud at his idiocy.

“Forgive me,” he said, hurrying to his feet.

He grabbed his linen napkin, but in his haste to hand it to his mother, he hit the handle of his knife haphazardly set across the edge of his plate and sent it clattering to the floor.

“Blast.” The word slipped from him before he could think better of it.

His father cleared his throat as an unnecessary reminder that ladies were present.

“Forgive me,” Nash said. “Again.”

Before he could render any more assistance , Lady Bridget gestured for him to stop. “Let the servants attend to that.” She clearly feared for the well-being of the table and her dinnerware upon it.

Reluctantly, Nash resumed his seat as two footmen stepped forward to clean the spilled liquid, clear his mother’s wine-drenched plate of food, and set a new knife before him, as well as a new plate and glass in front of his mother.

His gaze lifted to Cecily to find her watching him with a curious expression, but the moment their eyes met, she glanced away again.

An unfamiliar heaviness twisted in the pit of his stomach.

“My brother mentioned you intend to start a shipping company?” Fredrick asked, clearly intrigued by the prospect. Or perhaps eager to ease the tension following the uncomfortable state of affairs.

“That had been the plan.”

“Had been?” Rothsburg asked.

“It will be difficult convincing gentlemen to invest when my current venture might very well have sunk. Most literally. ”

Rothsburg gave an understanding nod. “So, what is the plan, then? Find a wife and?—”

Lady Bridget gave a discreet shake of her head, catching her husband’s eye.

“Do you not mean to marry, either?” Rothsburg asked, clearly not picking up on his wife’s less than subtle hint to avoid asking after another of Nash’s failures.

“All things considered, I think it best to wait.”

Mother shifted her gaze to Nash’s profile, but he did not meet it.

He felt oddly rattled, and he worried that if he glimpsed the concern in her expression, his emotions might get the better of him.

Which was both an unsettling and unfamiliar feeling.

What in the world was wrong with him? He’d had disappointments before, but he could not deny they’d been few and far between.

His current load of failures sat heavily upon him.

It was only a matter of time until word came that he’d been officially blackballed from White’s, which would seal his fate as an outsider.

And, to top it all, the thought of Cecily marrying Featherbottom niggled inside of him in a most unfettered manner. He could hardly bear it.

He clenched his hands into fists beneath the table.

Not one part of his coming home to England had gone as expected.

Perhaps it was a sign he should return to India sooner than he’d planned.

That he should relinquish his hope of forming a shipping company.

His hope of securing a way to return to England permanently.

Of course he did not wish to leave his family again—he might even miss Cecily if she would not refuse him such a sentiment—but if he remained, he’d only continue to make things worse for himself, and subsequently them.

And, in all honesty, he’d far prefer to be halfway around the world when Cecily and Featherbottom wed.

The idea took hold so forcefully that he knew it was the correct course of action. It was the only course of action. “ Actually, I’m considering leaving for India sooner than I’d planned. In the next week or two, if I can manage it.”

The dining room went ear-piercingly quiet, and the collective focus settled weightily on him. In hindsight, he should have waited to make such a consequential announcement in a more thoughtful manner, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

“A week or two?” his mother finally whispered, and he did not miss the slight waver in her voice. “But what of your inheritance? Don’t you need to wait until the matter is settled?”

“If my uncle’s will is discounted and I do inherit, I shall appoint Father as executor in my stead.

” Nash likely should have done that in the first place, but it had been so long since he’d been home.

Besides, he’d had other reasons for returning.

All of which, apart from seeing his family, were no longer relevant.

“That way, he’ll have the authority to make the distributions.

I can also hire a man of business to see to renting out the properties—both in London and the estate in Dover.

” He met his mother’s gaze, his chest clenching when he glimpsed the tears welling in her eyes. “But we needn’t speak of this now.”

She pressed her lips together, clearly attempting to keep her emotions at bay, but it was no use. A tear slipped out, then a second.

Another gaffe. Had his streak of bad luck also stolen his good sense?

He took hold of his mother’s hand. “Mother, I want to stay. Truly I do. But besides our family, there is nothing for me here at present.” Without his consent, his gaze flicked to Cecily.

She stared in his direction, but her gaze was pensive.

He supposed she was adding his thoughtlessness to that ever-growing list against him.

Although if he had to venture a guess, his being thoughtless was likely already on there. “If I return to India, I?—”

“You have made your point,” Cecily said, halting Nash’s words and pulling his attention to her. She seemed to force out a smile. “I will accept your offer.”

Offer? Nash narrowed his eyes, not understanding what in the world she was talking about.

“I will marry you,” she said.

“You will marry me?” he asked, apparently as dumbfounded by this odd turn of events as the others who watched on with widened eyes and gaping mouths. Had he missed something?

Unless …

Was this what she desired? Not in truth, but what she wanted for her part of the trade? The imploring look in her eyes told him it was.

“Is this truly what you desire?” he asked, testing his theory.

Her shoulders relaxed slightly at his acknowledgment. “It is. So you needn’t return to India,” she repeated, her gaze briefly flitting to his mother. “Not yet, anyway.”

So that was the reason for her ruse? To save Mother from her grief at Nash’s early departure?

It made sense, knowing Cecily’s care for her.

But why a false betrothal? Surely, as her part of the agreement, she could have insisted he stay through the summer.

There had to be more to her petition than he currently understood, and he found that he desperately wanted to know her reasons.

Not that he would assume it had anything to do with him, for he was certain it did not, but until this moment, he’d have thought himself the last person Cecily would trust to enact such a scheme with her. He was thoroughly intrigued.

But what of all his other failures? Could he afford to postpone his return to India? To face being blackballed and being officially deemed an outsider? Did he have the strength to continue in his streak of misfortune?

He studied Cecily, and this time she did not cower but met his gaze directly.

With their eyes locked on one another, hers pleading for him to agree to her terms, his previous resolve wilted.

Besides, a deal was a deal. “I should never have thought myself to be so lucky as to have gained your good opinion, let alone your hand in marriage.”

Cecily drew in a long, slow breath, and Nash could only imagine the effort it required for her to avoid an upward flick of her eyes.

“Wait.” Lady Bridget glanced between him and Cecily. “Are you two in earnest?”

Cecily glanced over at Lady Bridget, clearly avoiding her sister’s and both Nash’s parents’ befuddled gazes.

“Over the past week, I have come to realize Nash is an acquired taste.” She spoke the words with added weight, as though she meant to guide him in what their story was.

Nash liked his version better. “And more tolerable than most,” she continued.

“Besides, it is a practical match, as our families have known one another for so long.”

“Don’t be coy, darling.” The endearment might have been a touch excessive, but if he were to take part in her ruse, he might as well do a thorough job. And have a little fun while he was at it. “Go on and tell them the whole story. Or I could.”

Despite Cecily’s attempts to appear composed, her brief look at Nash loosely resembled a scowl before she shifted her attention to Lady Bridget.

“Earlier, when you asked if anything had transpired between us … there was. Briefly. Well, there is. Still. I have …” She dropped her gaze and cleared her throat. “… that is to say …”

“We’ve secretly been in love with one another since we first met.

” Nash’s grin widened when her eyes lifted to his.

How was it she looked so far from pleased by his efforts on her behalf when he found he felt lighter than he had in days?

This was her idea, after all. She could not blame him for his part in it.

Lady Bridget’s lips parted, her attention shifting to Cecily. “Is that why you’ve turned away all the other suitors? Because of your affection for Mr. Markham? ”

Cecily’s irresolute nod was far from convincing.

“I knew it!” Lady Bridget clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Well, I knew there was a reason you continued to refuse each gentleman’s attentions.

I cannot say I knew for certain it was Mr. Markham who had captured your heart, not with the way the two of you carry on, but I’ve had my suspicions. It is a love story for the ages.”

Adelaide released a breathy sigh. “It truly is.”

Father’s eyes were brimming with questions when they landed on Nash. “It seems congratulations are in order.”

“Yes.” Mother nodded, her tone also a touch hesitant, but she set her hand atop Nash’s. “Such unexpected news.” Her gaze shifted to Cecily. “But if this is what you wish, I could not be happier for you both.”

Cecily’s smile appeared pasted on. “Thank you.”

“Papa will be so pleased to hear the news,” Adelaide said. “You must write to him straight away.”

Even in the candlelight, the lovely shade of pink coloring Cecily’s cheeks was easily discernible. “Yes, of course.”

“Perhaps I should write to him also,” Nash said. “That way, I might request his permission. I’d hate for him to think me negligent of my gentlemanly responsibility.”

“I assure you, there is no need.” Cecily sounded resolute on the point. “He will forgive your oversight, considering how swiftly this has all occurred.”

“Let us hope the gentlemen of the ton are equally forgiving,” Lady Bridget said with a sigh.

“For I imagine there will be many of them with broken hearts and wounded pride. Particularly poor Lord Harlow. Though I must admit, the timing could be rather perfect for Mr. Markham. What with Cecily being a darling of Society, this could be just the thing to help recover his reputation. For why else would he capture Cecily’s heart if he were not worthy of it? ”

The thought struck Nash soundly. It was true.

Once others were told of his betrothal to Cecily, they would assume his luck was not as poor as they had previously supposed.

Not when most of the eligible gentlemen in the upper crust wished to secure her affections.

Even if he were still blackballed from White’s because of Featherbottom’s vote—and the man would undoubtedly vote against him—it would make the reason behind Nash’s exclusion seem rooted in jealousy more than his current state of misfortune.

“We must take advantage of her good standing,” Lady Bridget continued. “Make certain you two are seen with one another as much as possible over the next several weeks by planning outings instead of spending every day in the drawing room receiving gentlemen callers.”

“Yes,” Cecily agreed, surprising Nash with her resolve. “I believe that would be the correct course of action.”

He appraised her, unable to decipher much excepting that she seemed to pendulum from regretting having enacted the ruse to being confident in the plan. The two of them would certainly need to speak in private, and he had to admit he was very much looking forward to it.

“Shall we toast the happy couple?” Rothsburg raised his glass, and the others did likewise.

Nash lifted his cup higher than them all, his gaze on Cecily. “To you, my love .”

She stared at him a moment before bringing her cup to her lips and tilting her head back to drain the remaining contents of her glass. It seemed the pendulum had swung again. And yet for Nash, it seemed this was the first bit of luck he’d encountered since the Darlingtons’ ball.