Page 43 of A Match of Misfortune (Bachelors of Blackstone’s #7)
“I can push her,” Fredrick said, stepping up behind the Bath chair.
“Very well.” Nash relinquished his position, and Fredrick began to push the chair at a cautious pace, allowing Adelaide time to figure out the mechanics of the steering.
She and Jamison laughed as she did so, drawing attention from people walking nearby.
Several passersby sent curious glances, but a few smiled at the scene.
“How was the wherry ride?” Nash asked, stepping in next to Cecily. She noticed the way his brow glistened, and she could only imagine how quickly he must have made his way with the Bath chair to ensure they didn’t wait too long.
“I enjoyed it far more than I thought I would. In part thanks to Jamison and how excited he was about the whole thing, and in part from being able to watch Adelaide experience it.” Cecily dropped her gaze, feeling as though she needed to thank Nash for making all of this possible, but she wasn’t sure she had the words at the moment.
“It truly was enchanting. Like a storybook fairy tale. I am sorry you could not come. ”
“It is probably for the best. I likely would have tipped the boat or caused some other sort of ill to fall upon our party.”
She smiled, though she could not deny that when they’d arrived at the docks and saw to getting Adelaide and Jamison situated in the boat, a similar thought had crossed her mind.
“Look, it is Lord and Lady Walton,” Bridget said, drawing their attention. “We should probably speak with them.”
Sure enough, the older gentleman was leisurely strolling toward them with his wife on his arm and a cane in his other hand. Their gazes caught on Adelaide and Jamison, who were a fair amount ahead of them now, and the look of disdain that passed between the couple made Cecily’s blood boil.
Lord Rothsburg gave a small groan, clearly feeling similar to Cecily about speaking with them.
“Or I could point in the direction opposite and we can all pretend to take a great interest in an object. Perhaps that tree there, the one with the blossoms.” He looked to be considering it in earnest. “Should it be in bloom this early in the year? None of the others seem to have been told it was time to flower. Most fascinating.”
Cecily shared a smile with Nash and Mrs. Markham.
“Do not be silly, my love. The Waltons are well respected among the ton and may prove a support to us. Lord and Lady Walton!” Bridget lifted a hand before her husband could protest a second time.
The couple glanced their way, having just caught sight of their group.
Or at least acting as though they had. “How fortuitous we should see you here. I was just thinking of our last conversation, and I have been eager to know how your daughter and her new husband are faring.”
“Quite well,” Lord Walton said, clearly avoiding Nash’s gaze, though his wife seemed unable to keep hers from drifting to him.
With the scowl she wore, however, Cecily was fairly certain Lady Walton was not simply appreciating his beauty.
Or she was, and it vexed her how handsome of a man he was.
“It is most kind of you to think of her. ”
“Miss Walt— No, I suppose it is Mrs. Baker now, is the dearest of ladies. I was so pleased when she and Mr. Baker made a match of it.” She paused.
“But forgive my poor manners. In my excitement, I forgot to make introductions. You know my husband, of course, and I believe you have already met Miss Bradshaw?”
“We have,” Lady Walton said.
“Of course.” Bridget gestured to Mrs. Markham. “This is Lord Rothsburg’s aunt, Mrs. Markham, and his cousin, who is also Miss Bradshaw’s betrothed, Mr. Nash Markham.”
Lord Walton gave a curt nod. “I know the name.”
“He has recently returned from six years abroad, where he has proved himself a very capable merchant.” Bridget’s gaze settled on him, expectantly.
Nash smiled. “That is a most gener?—”
“I heard of the mishap with your ship,” Lord Walton interrupted. “Any news of it?”
Nash seemed to bristle at Lord Walton’s directness. “Unfortunately, no.”
“Interesting. I have heard the wreck has been confirmed.”
“It has been confirmed that a ship ran aground off the Cape Verde Islands, but not that it was my ship.”
“All the same, the whole situation seems rather suspicious.”
Cecily could hardly stand to watch this barrage for another moment. As though Nash didn’t feel badly enough about what had occurred. “Let me assure you, my lord, unlike most merchants, Mr. Markham truly cares about the success of his investors.”
Lord Walton quirked a brow, his steely eyes returning to Nash. “Enough to put his own money on the line? Front the insurance payback with all that wealth he’s accrued as a nabob ?”
Nash did not say a word, but his jaw flexed.
“That is what I thought,” Lord Walton said, extending his arm to his wife again. “We should be on our way. ”
“Are you coming?” Jamison called as they approached, drawing the collective gaze of their group.
Adelaide, upon realizing they were speaking with others, shushed Jamison.
“Children should not be using a Bath chair for a plaything,” Lord Walton said. “They are likely to cause harm to some innocent bystander.”
“My sister cannot walk,” Cecily said, growing low on patience for this couple and their judgmental demeanor. “The chair is hers.”
Lord and Lady Walton gave one another a knowing glance before Lord Walton’s gaze returned to Nash. “Perhaps that is where your streak of bad luck has come from. It is a well-accepted fact that interacting with an invalid will bring about misfortune.”
Fredrick was already backing the chair away, but with the way Adelaide’s gaze immediately dropped to her hands, Cecily knew she’d heard his comment.
How dare he!
Rage darkened the corners of Cecily’s eyes, and she barely felt Mrs. Markham take hold of her hand in an attempt to calm her. She did not wish to be calmed. She wished to give Lord Walton the verbal lashing he deserved.
“My luck has not one thing to do with Miss Adelaide,” Nash said, his voice dangerously low.
He took a step closer to Lord Walton, forcing the man to crane his neck upward like the intolerable child he was.
“And if I ever hear you suggest such a nonsensical thing again, or if I discover that you have told someone else of your appalling falsehood, I doubt I’d be able to restrain myself a second time from planting a facer on that perfectly straight nose of yours. Do you understand?”
Lord Walton gave a hard swallow and nodded.
Nash continued to stare down at him in a most intimidating manner, and Cecily could not help but feel appreciation at hearing him come to Adelaide’s defense.
Lord Rothsburg wrapped an arm around his cousin’s shoulder, pulling him backward. “Well, this has been a most pleasant chat. But as we have just arrived, we have much to see. Do take care.”
The Waltons simply stood there, gaping after the group as they again started on their way.
No one spoke as they continued down the path.
All Cecily wanted to do was go speak with Adelaide and make certain she was well.
But she knew her sister better than anyone, and Adelaide would not wish for the attention to be drawn to her a second time. Particularly if she were near to tears.
“That man is a dunderheaded goosecap,” Mrs. Markham said, breaking the silence.
Cecily’s gaze shot to her. At the unexpected declaration, a rogue bout of humor fought to replace her irritation.
Lord Rothsburg gave a cautious smile. “Exceptionally well put, Aunt.”
She huffed. “It is the truth of it.”
“In hindsight,” Bridget said, letting out a most pitiable sigh, “it would have been wise to forego speaking with the Waltons. I am so sorry.”
Cecily glanced over at Bridget’s sorrow-filled eyes. “Do not blame yourself. You were trying to help.” In Cecily’s periphery, she could see Nash’s hands clench into fists. Her gaze shifted to him. “It is not your fault, either.”
He glanced her way but said nothing, setting his sights forward again.
They were a solemn lot as they started along the Italian walk, but the sight of the rows of arches seemed to cheer them, so that by the time they arrived at the painting of the ancient ruins at Palmyra, even Adelaide was smiling again, though it was not as bright as it had been .
“Look, it’s the acrobats,” Jamison said, pointing.
A large man stood at the center of a group of onlookers, two smaller men standing on each of his shoulders and a man atop them.
A fifth stood nearby, speaking with their spectators and gesturing to the top as though asking if he should join the others.
When he started climbing the tower of men as though they were but a tree, the crowd gasped in delight.
With everyone’s gazes fixed on them, and with Adelaide’s chair positioned where she could best see the act, Cecily started toward her.
She could not wait any longer to speak with her, but as she approached, Nash stepped in next to Adelaide.
He crouched down near her chair. The crowd was so loud in their excitement that Cecily could not make out what it was he was saying.
Both of their expressions were solemn but not sad, and Adelaide nodded as Nash spoke. After a minute or two, Nash smiled, and Adelaide did likewise. A bright, lovely smile.
Nash stood again, his gaze catching Cecily’s.
He started toward her, and Cecily cursed the way her heart rate increased as he neared. The way her breath became harder to draw because of it. She was supposed to have a better hold on her wayward reactions to him by now, but instead, they only seemed to be intensifying.
“How is she?” Cecily asked when he stepped to her side.
“We have decided to not let others’ shameful opinions ruin our day.”
Was that all he meant to say? “I am glad to hear it.”
Shoulder to shoulder, or more like Nash’s shoulder to Cecily’s head, Nash turned his attention back toward the acrobats.
Apparently, he truly didn’t mean to say more.
“Thank you,” Cecily said, finding the words were easier to speak when she was not looking at him.
“For what?”
“For making today possible.” Cecily swallowed down the emotions threatening to choke her. “And for being Adelaide’s champion.”
His gaze slid sideways, and their eyes met again. “I will always champion her.”
Cecily did not doubt he meant it, but that would be quite the feat all the way from India.