Page 37 of A Match of Misfortune

Lord Harlow gave a knowing smile. “It would be a fitting club for you.”

Another distant knock sounded, and Nash glanced over his shoulder. “Another gentleman caller at the door, I presume.”

A moment later, Caldwell stepped into the drawing room. “Mr. Markham, there is a man here from the docks who wishes to speak with you.”

Nash stood and hastened to the door before pausing on the threshold and pointing at Lord Harlow. “Do not move from that chair. I’ll be back momentarily.”

With Lord Harlow’s affronted expression at Nash’s absurd command, along with her own discomfort at being left temporarily unchaperoned, Cecily tried her hand at a shift in conversation. “Are you to attend Mr. and Mrs. Guilford’s’ dinner party this evening?”

“I am. I assume you will be there also?”

“Yes.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He gave a taut smile. For as handsome of a man as Lord Harlow was, Cecily found speaking with him somewhat unnerving. He was a suitable conversationalist, so it likely had to do with her inability to determine his preferences and therefore what she might say to prevent him from thinking her a potential match.

“What of your⁠—”

“Are you certain it was the Dawn of India?” Nash’s raised voice came from the entry hall, and Cecily stilled, attempting to hear what was being said until she realized that Lord Harlow had done likewise.

“My lord.” Cecily offered a smile she hoped appeared genuine. “Will you tell me of your country estate?”

Lord Harlow’s gaze fixed on her, but she could tell he had not heard her question.

“This cannot be,” Nash’s voice was quieter now, but with the intensity of his tone, it carried into the room as if he’d spoken the words aloud to them. “They must be mistaken.”

“You said it is near Bath?” Cecily tried again, desperate to draw attention away from Nash and his conversation. Whatever was being relayed, it did not sound like good news, which meant Nash would not wish for Lord Harlow to hear it.

“My estate?” Lord Harlow said, finally refocusing on Cecily.

“Yes. I wish to hear all about it.”

“Nash, dear.” It was Mrs. Markham’s voice. She must have just arrived home. “Whatever is the matter?”

Cecily shot from her seat and, despite how improper it was to be in a room alone with Lord Harlow, she closed the door so swiftly the sound reverberated through her. “Forgive me,” She offered Lord Harlow a sheepish smile and resumed her place on the settee. “I cannot think with all the noise. Now please, you were to tell me about your estate?”

He hesitated, whether from her odd behavior or his disappointment at not being able to overhear the conversation, she could not be certain. “It is less than half a day’s ride from Bath,” he finally said, thankfully complying. “Near a charming village …” His words faded into one another as Cecily’s mind drifted to what news Nash had received. After a minute or two of the one-sided conversation, the door opened and Mrs. Markham slipped inside. Lord Harlow stood.

“Lord Harlow, might I present Mrs. Markham, a dear friend of my family’s?” Cecily searched Mrs. Markham’s expression for any hint of what might have happened, but if something had occurred, Mrs. Markham’s expression did not show it.

Lord Harlow bowed. “Mrs. Markham. What a pleasure it is.”

“The pleasure is mine,” she said.

“I apologize for my unannounced visit.” Lord Harlow sent Cecily a knowing smile that wriggled uncomfortably inside her. “I admit I was desperate to see Miss Bradshaw again.”

“There is no need to apologize,” Mrs. Markham assured him. “I am only sorry I was not here to welcome you into our home. Might we offer you some refreshments?”

“Your son actually requested a tea service be brought up,” Lord Harlow said, as if to reassure her they had not been alone the whole of his visit. “But I have just noticed the time and regret that I must take my leave. Perhaps I could return to try one of those blueberry scones Miss Bradshaw mentioned.”

“You would be most welcome.”

He stood, bowed in front of Mrs. Markham, then made his way to Cecily. “I shall see you tonight,” he said, reaching for her hand. She lifted it to him, and he placed a kiss atop her knuckles. For as handsome as he was, no energy or rush of pleasure came.

When he had bid them one last farewell and taken his leave, Mrs. Markham waited for the click of the front door before she turned her attention to Cecily. Her expression, previously free of emotion, was now filled with worry.

“Where is Nash?” Cecily asked, nervous to hear the answer.

“He has gone to the docks to see if he can verify the news he just received.”