Page 36 of A Match of Misfortune (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #7)

Chapter Twenty-One

C ecily glanced at her solemn reflection, brushing the curls from her hair while she waited on Mrs. Batton to come help her dress for the day.

Her thoughts drifted through the tiresome evening she’d spent at the park.

Lord Harlow had sought her out, and worrying he might offer for her right then, she was obligated to share the news of her betrothal.

He’d appeared so crestfallen. Even the memory of it made her heart heavy, though at least it had saved him from the embarrassment of an outright rejection had he asked for her hand.

Then there was Nash. It was silly that she felt so hurt by his negligence.

She knew the importance of his meeting with Mr. Steele, how the matter of his ship far outweighed her desire to not face Lord Harlow alone.

And yet, when he’d failed to meet them before their departure for the park as he’d said he would, it had flooded her with disappointment.

Not only for herself but also for the Rothsburgs, who were generously risking their own reputations to help restore his.

A knock at the door pulled Cecily from her thoughts. “Come in. ”

The door opened.

“Mrs. Batton, might I get some help with my buttons? I could fasten most of them, but—” When she did not hear nearing footsteps, she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening when she found Nash standing on the threshold, smiling at her.

“I’m not Mrs. Batton, but I’m certain I could manage the task.”

Heat rushed over her body at his brazen insinuation, and she shifted in her chair to conceal the few buttons in the back she could not reach. “What are you doing here?”

He pointed at the floor beneath his feet as though she spoke of his actual location, then back at her. “You told me to come in.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

His gaze moved across his room, and she realized that, besides that first night when it was too dark to see, he’d not been in here. Slightly pricked by the thought, she allowed his continued reverie until his eyes met hers again. “Oh, I have something I want to show you.”

She eyed him. He held one hand behind his back, likely concealing the gifts he had supposedly brought her from India, but she was in no mood to be pacified. “Can it not wait?”

“It can. I only thought, what with the Rothsburgs arriving within the hour to retrieve us for the menagerie, that you’d be ready.”

“Clearly I’m not.”

He studied her for a moment. “Are you cross with me?”

“Not much more than usual.”

Nash smiled at her acknowledgment. “Is this about the park? I had a?—”

“Honestly, I do not require your excuses. A part of me suspected you would not keep your word, but for the Rothsburgs’ sake, I had hoped otherwise. ”

Perhaps she was not being entirely fair to Nash, but indignation burned inside her.

He could not continue to disregard those closest to him—those who were trying to help him—each time a more pressing issue arose.

She might also be more keen to understand if his meeting with Mr. Steele had gone on longer than he’d thought, but upon coming home, Mr. Markham had explained that Nash had gone to Blackstone’s, a local gentlemen’s club.

Surely such an errand could have been postponed.

“You have every reason to be upset, but I will have you know I am not entirely negligent in keeping my word. I have found a solution for Adelaide.”

“A solution for her? Whatever do you mean?”

“A way to allow her to leave the house more easily. I did not say as much yesterday in the carriage when I first had the thought, for I wanted to be certain I could obtain it, but I’ve secured her a Bath chair.”

Cecily’s head tipped to the side, though she remained where she sat. “Is it a sort of invalid chair?”

“Similar, but it can be maneuvered with ease, making far more places accessible.”

Cecily studied him for several seconds. “Have you shown it to her yet?”

Nash shook his head. “I assumed you’d wish to be there when I did. In case she needs convincing to come along.”

The apology she knew she needed to offer was uncomfortably lodged in her throat. Apparently, he was not as entirely thoughtless as she repeatedly supposed him to be. “That was very kind of you. Both fetching the chair and waiting for me to present it. I am sorry, I?—”

“Do not apologize. There is no need for it.”

Her gaze lifted to his, and she saw sincerity in his eyes.

“Thank you, then. I am certain the idea of joining us today will thrill Adelaide. Once she becomes accustomed to it, that is.” Cecily gave a reluctant breath and stood, taking a few steps toward Nash.

“Might I ask where it is you found the chair?”

“My aunt Agnes’ townhouse. I had noticed it in one of the storage rooms upstairs but didn’t much consider it until we spoke yesterday.”

“But I thought the house was not yours? Not until the Court of Chancery rules if the new will is valid or not?”

“I stopped by last night and spoke with the servants. After explaining the situation and assuring them that if my uncle inherits and the chair is not rightfully mine to give, I shall write to my uncle and inform him of my taking it. I cannot think he will mind at that point, considering he would have most likely received everything else, but if he does, I shall send him the sum to cover the expense. For both that and the mirror.”

“The mirror?”

With a rueful expression, Nash revealed his concealed hand. It was covered in a thick bandage.

Cecily’s eyes widened. “What happened?”

“Even with a candle, the storage room was dark and difficult to navigate. When I attempted to cross the maze of crates and trunks, I tripped, shattering a mirror, and cutting my hand.”

She lifted a hand to her mouth, mindlessly taking a few more steps until she stopped near to where he stood on the threshold. “Are you in earnest?”

“You cannot know how badly I wish I was not. Though do not tell Lady Bridget of it. She will cast me off as a hopeless cause for the next seven years.”

Cecily could not help herself, and she smiled. “Well, I’m sorry for it.”

“You don’t look sorry. Though I should expect as much, since you are in part to blame for this.”

She gawked at him. “How do you figure?”

“I had hoped to have you join me on the outing, but as you had already retired for the night by the time I arrived home, I was forced to see to the task without your oversight.” He glanced down at his hand, shaking his head. “Apparently, this is what happens when I’m left to my own devices.”

Though she knew he was only jesting about bringing her along, the very thought of the two of them making their way through a darkened storage room together made Cecily’s insides whirl in a way that confirmed it was a good thing she had retired directly after her return from the park.

But she could not let him get the better of her.

“Such sound logic. To think, the whole fiasco might have been prevented, had I only been there.”

He smiled at her teasing response. “Do not let it weigh too heavily upon you. Though if you wish to make it up to me, I might be able to suggest a way to do so.”

She tucked her lips into a straight line, quelling her delight, but only just. It was definitely time for Nash to be on his way.

“I shall meet you at the study when I’m readied, but you had best leave before Mrs. Batton finds you standing outside of my bedroom door. Or your mother, for that matter.”

“Ah. So it is to be your bedroom now? I suppose I could get used to that idea.”

She pinned him with a look, her smile near to breaking through. “You are utterly?—”

“Ridiculous,” he finished for her. “So I have been told. Almost exclusively by you. Though Rothsburg has mentioned it a time or two.”

She shook her head. “I shall see you downstairs.”

“And you’re sure you don’t need help with those buttons?” He lifted his injured hand. “My fingers remain unaffected by my injury.”

Cecily appraised his teasing look, and she hated how he always seemed to have the upper hand in their interactions.

She gathered her hair and pulled it over her shoulder, turning just enough that he would glimpse her bare neck and possibly even the buttons needing fastened, but not her back itself. “Well, I suppose if you are willing …”

Nash’s throat bobbed, and he took an unintentional step backward.

At his amusing response, she gave a most unladylike laugh, attempting to cover it with her hand. “Forgive me, but I thought that would be the case.”

Now it was Nash’s turn to shake his head, and he stepped forward again, leaning himself against the doorframe. “And what would you have done had I accepted?”

Cecily would not cower. “You would not have. I was certain of it.”

His gaze dropped to her smiling lips. “You had best be careful. You might be entering a battle of wills you do not wish to take part in.”

“Perhaps.” She lifted a confident brow, despite how her insides were in commotion. “Though perhaps not. I never realized how entertaining it is to watch you squirm.”

Footsteps on the stairs had both of them glancing down the corridor. Without another thought, Cecily pushed Nash from her threshold and swiftly shut the door. Apparently, Nash was not the only one who pretended boldness where there was none.

Cecily stepped lightly when she passed the drawing room, hoping to go unseen on her route to the dining room. When she entered, Nash sent her a devilish smile. “I assume your buttons are soundly fastened?”

Cecily turned, showing him the straight row of buttons that traveled from her neck halfway down her back. “And Mrs. Batton didn’t get a drop of blood on my dress, as you likely would have. ”

He laughed.

“Is that the Bath chair?” Cecily asked, glancing behind him.

Nash stepped to the side, fully revealing a canopied chair with two large metal wheels on each side and a third wheel in front that was attached to some sort of metal handle.

“It is larger than I thought,” she said. “And the wheels are made of iron.”