Page 36 of A Match of Misfortune

She slapped a hand over Nash’s mouth before she could think better of it. “Why must you always speak so loudly?” she hissed. Cecily could feel his smiling lips beneath her palm, but despite her vexation and the way her nerves jolted up her arm, she waited for the sound of fading steps before removing her hand.

His teasing smirk was already in place. “I suppose it could have something to do with that very reaction. It seems more a reward than a punishment.”

Cecily aimed a responding glare at him, well aware he spoke of her irritation and not the hand she’d pressed against his mouth. Then a movement in her periphery reminded her they had an audience. She drew in a calming breath and turned to face her sister, who looked as delighted by what was happening as Nash did. “Will you keep your eyes on Jamison while we greet our visitor?”

Adelaide glanced between Nash and Cecily as though she wished for them to remain so she could see where the conversation went, but she must have realized Cecily had no intention of condemning herself further in their younger siblings’ presence. “Of course.”

Cecily gestured for Nash to follow her into the corridor but stopped before the door to the drawing room. “You had better be on your best behavior,” she whispered.

Nash lifted his hands defensively. “I’d not squander this chance for you to become a countess.”

Cecily gave a humorless smile. Then, without another word, she turned from him and made her way into the drawing room. “Lord Harlow, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Miss Bradshaw, I apologize—” His words stopped and his gaze flicked behind her when Nash stepped to her side. After another moment of uncomfortable silence, Lord Harlow’s eyes returned to hers. “I apologize for calling on you here and after typical hours for such things. But as I was not able to make it to the Rothsburgs’ today due to some unexpected business, I wanted to make certain that you did not think me neglectful.”

Cecily had not even considered how he hadn’t visited her at the Rothsburgs’ that day. “I assure you, I thought no such thing.” She moved toward the settee, gesturing to an armchair nearest to where he stood, and he took a seat. “Mrs. Markham is not home at the moment, but she should return soon.” Cecily glanced behind her where Nash remained, his appraising gaze fixed on Lord Harlow. “In the meantime, Mr. Markham has kindly offered to keep us company.”

Lord Harlow offered a tight-lipped smile. “How generous of him.”

Nash grinned. “I thank you for the acknowledgment. I feel quite similarly about the whole situation.”

Cecily closed her eyes, realizing how foolish it had been to hope Nash would behave himself.

“If you’d prefer, Miss Bradshaw and I can take a promenade to Cavendish Square. That way you need not trouble yourself with playing the role of chaperone.”

“Miss Bradshaw’s company never troubles me.”

Lord Harlow dropped his gaze before lifting it again to send Cecily a kind smile. “No. I cannot imagine it does.”

If Cecily had not known of the past discord between the two gentlemen, she might have thought that she had something to do with how ridiculous they were both acting. Cecily stood, forcing the attention of both men to her and causing Lord Harlow to rise. “Would anyone care for some refreshment?” She did not wait for them to respond before tugging the bellpull. “Mr. Markham, perhaps you might request to have Mrs. Ingram bring up some of Cook’s blueberry scones. They are absolutely divine.”

“Thank you,” Lord Harlow said, tipping his head toward her. “That would be much appreciated. It never ceases to amaze me how churlish one can get when hungry.” His gaze slid to Nash. “You will have one too, will you not?”

Nash quirked a smile. “I must say, I did not expect such wit from you.”

The glint in Lord Harlow’s eyes belied his casual stance. “And I did not expect you to perceive it. It typically takes a keen intellect to decipher the nuances of humor.”

Nash’s hands fisted at his side, and Cecily walked toward him, placing a staying hand on his arm. “Mr. Markham?” Even she could hear the desperation in her voice. “Perhaps you might request tea for our guest as well?”

Nash looked down at her, and his expression softened. “Yes.” He drew in a slow inhale, his chest broadening with the motion. “Of course.”

The sound of footsteps neared the door, and Mrs. Ingram stepped through. She took in the three faces staring back at her, clearly surprised at not finding Mrs. Markham among them, before she turned her attention to Nash.

“Might we have a tea service brought in?” he asked. “Along with some blueberry scones.”

Mrs. Ingram bobbed a curtsy. “Right away, sir.”

Cecily resumed her place across from Lord Harlow, but Nash still stood near the door with his arms crossed. “Will you not take a seat also, Mr. Markham?”

Nash stepped forward, but instead of selecting the chair Cecily had gestured to, he took the seat directly next to Cecily on the settee. She forced herself not to shift away from him, fighting to maintain a calm, pleasant expression.

Lord Harlow’s gaze seemed to tarry on the minimal space between Cecily and Nash before his eyes fixed on Nash. “I was quite surprised to see your name on White’s list for proposed memberships.”

Nash’s hand tapped his thigh in rapid succession. “Yes. Lord Chatting is set on my being accepted. He believes there are many gentlemen at White’s who would benefit from doing business with me.”

“Well, if White’s does not work out for you, perhaps you should try Blackstone’s.”

“Blackstone’s?” Nash’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe I’ve heard of it.”