Page 33 of A Match of Misfortune

An unexpected laugh bubbled up from Cecily. “My charms? You are desperate.”

Nash considered her, his fingers resuming the tapping on his thigh. “Name your price.”

“A trade?” She gave a thoughtful hum, resting a finger against her lips. “What could I possibly want from you?”

He leaned toward her. “I could offer a few suggestions.”

She pinned him with another look. What a horrible, wicked flirt. Even when he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t help himself. “On second thought, I think I’ll just keep the luck.”

She turned from him again, and this time he stepped in front of her, preventing her from leaving. Desperation pulled at his features. “Come now. There must be something I can offer you.”

The only thing she currently wanted, besides being rid of him, was to be done with the cursed Marriage Mart and the horde of gentlemen who were far more interested in her dowry than in her. Nash could not help her with that.

She stilled.

Or could he?

Her gaze turned distant as she mulled the thought over. If gentlemen believed her interest lay elsewhere, they would cease to pursue her. So … if Nash would court her—no, not even court her, simply be his usual flirtatious self in public, then she could allow his advances, only temporarily, of course. It could be just the thing to cause any potential suitor’s interest in her to wane. Men were fickle like that. They did not like a woman’s attention on another. And it would not even need to be for long. A few weeks would probably suffice, leaving Nash plenty of time to find someone else to court and marry before his return to India.

Besides, it was not as though changing one’s mind about a prospective marriage companion typically had any negative effect on a gentleman’s reputation. Only the lady’s. Which Cecily did not care about at all. In truth, it would likely aid her endeavor by preventing new suitors. She could keep her promise to Papa to stay the entire Season while freeing herself from the unwanted advances. It was perfect.

“You’ve thought of something,” Nash said. “What is it?”

It was only then that Cecily realized the glaring error in her plan, for he was standing before her, a rakish smile curving the corners of his lips upward. What had she been thinking? She could clearly not pretend a fondness for Nash Markham. She was not that desperate.

She shook her head. “It is nothing.”

“Come now. Tell me what it is.”

She pressed her lips together and lifted her chin slightly, hoping he would not glimpse the truth. “It was not anything you could help me with.”

Nash’s gaze held a hint of doubt as it roved across her expression. “Are you certain?”

“Quite certain.”

He gave a heavy nod. “How about I give you my word that, when you think of what it is you want, I shall see it done?”

“An open-ended agreement? Surely you are a better negotiator than to allow for such a thing?”

“I think you underestimate how much I want my luck back.” Nash was the very image of haughty confidence, leaning one shoulder against the corridor wall with his arms folded across his broad chest.

She forced her gaze from him. “Very well,” she said, suddenly desperate to be on her way. Pulling in a quick breath, she pulled back her shoulders and returned her attention to him, hoping she did not appear as unnerved as she felt. “My luck is yours to have. All of it. Sufficient?”

He gave a slight smile. “You could have said it with a touch more sincerity.”

“I could have not said it at all.”

He lifted his hands in acquiescence. “That will suffice.”

Footsteps on the stairs sent both of their gazes down the corridor. Mrs. Markham stepped into view wearing a worried expression. “There you are, Nash.”

“What is the matter?”

“One of your trunks fell off the carriage as they were unloading it. Apparently, the height of the fall broke the latch, and the contents were scattered across the muddy, wet pavement.”

Nash shot Cecily a meaningful look, as if it were further evidence for his loss of luck. “Did they say what the contents were?”

“They have the trunk downstairs in the housekeeper’s quarters. I had a quick look, and it seems to be mostly clothing and linens, though there are a few other items. The servants feel terrible about it.”