Page 55 of A Match of Misfortune

“I heard you speaking to Adelaide last night in the library—about the plight of the peacock—and I agree with you. She may not see it, but Adelaide is everything that is good. She is beautiful and kind and full of love.” Nash hesitated, uncertain if he should say more. “She deserves to live her life unfettered by those who refuse to realize it.”

Cecily dropped her gaze to her hands. “Whether she deserves it is not the question.”

“No. Not at all.” He released a pent-up breath. “I simply wonder if enough of us support her, countering those who will not treat her well, that perhaps she might stretch her wings a little. Venture into the world instead of always watching it from a distance with yearning eyes.”

“What of her physical limitations?” There was no animosity in Cecily’s voice, only sincerity, as though she wished there were some sort of solution. “Her chair is not conducive to most places. You have pushed it before. Think of how difficult it is to navigate even on even floors.”

He gave a reluctant nod of agreement. It was true. The chair was tricky to maneuver, the small wheel in back caught on everything, the larger wheels were rigid, and there was always the fear of it tipping. If only there were another way to get her around. As if by providence, an image flashed in Nash’s mind, and an idea churned in him. A good idea, at that. Not that he would say as much yet. He would not risk disappointing Cecily if he could not manage it, but if he could, Adelaide might join them on some of their outings. They were to visit the Royal Menagerie at the Exeter Exchange tomorrow. Perhaps, if he saw to the task tonight, she could come along.

Cecily’s gaze shifted out the window again, and with the opportunity presenting itself, Nash couldn’t help but admire her profile—the delicate angle of her chin, her dark lashes, her pert nose, and the fullness of those pink lips.

Her gaze returned to him, catching him in his reverie and causing the color in her cheeks to deepen. “I suppose, now that we have a moment alone, we should also discuss those burning questions of yours.”

“Regarding our sham betrothal?”

Color saturated deep into her lovely, full cheeks. “Our temporary betrothal,” she said decidedly. “If we see it as that, we needn’t feel as though we are deceiving everyone.”

The logic did not add up. If a couple knew they were to break off a betrothal eventually, how could it be anything but a sham? Not that he would disappoint Cecily in this if her honesty demanded it, but he could not resist testing her resolve a bit. “I’m glad to know it is an actual betrothal. I suppose we truly can take advantage of those benefits Lady Bridget mentioned.”

She went rigid in her seat. “We are alone together in a carriage, are we not?”

Nash quirked a playful brow. “Yes, but Rothsburg spoke of stealing kisses during their carriage rides together. It seems the proper course of action for those of us who are truly betrothed. Even if only temporarily.”

Cecily lifted her chin slightly. “Are you curious as to why I enacted this plan?” she asked, ignoring his teasing entirely.

“I have a few theories but nothing concrete.”

She eyed him. “What are your theories?”

“First, that you are acting altruistically on behalf of my parents, particularly my mother, in order to delay my return to India.”

Her brow raised ever so slightly. “It seems your intuition is not as wayward as it once was.”

He chuckled. “Another thought that occurred to me, and I admit my pride may have superseded any intuition on this point, is that I can’t help but wonder if finding out about Featherbottom’s plans to offer for you played into all of this. The timing seems oddly coincidental.”

Cecily released a sigh. “Again, you are not wrong. I should like to avoid his proposal along with any others I might receive.”

“The dolt will not come near you while I’m present. Nor will any other gentlemen if you do not wish it.”

She dropped her chin. “Lord Harlow is a good man, but the truth is …” She paused, her expression full of hesitancy.

He found he desperately wanted to know what she was about to say. Nay, he needed to know. “You can tell me. I will not share what you relay with anyone.”

She spoke in a hushed whisper. “I do not intend to marry.”

Nash’s core contracted as if he’d taken a physical blow to the stomach. “Ever?”

She shook her head.

He supposed it made sense, only in that she had not married after all these years. Nash had maintained a slight hope, one he’d hardly admitted to himself, that her reluctance had been for another reason, but clearly that was not the truth of it. Regardless, the thought did not sit well with him. “Might I ask why?”

“I cannot⁠—”

A loud crack and a subsequent jolt sent them clambering. Nash reached out and took hold of Cecily, pulling her to him and supporting their weight as the carriage tilted awkwardly to one side and the rear corner where she’d been sitting sunk downward. The entire vehicle shook as it slowed, then the carriage came to a halting stop.

His eyes roved over Cecily. “Are you hurt?”

She gave a swift shake of her head, her eyes wide with surprise. “No.”