Page 60 of A Match of Misfortune

Her expression became veiled. “Oh. That is fortunate, I suppose.”

Nash gave a thoughtful hum while Cecily pulled the bonnet from her head and tucked the saturated ribbons inside. She glanced down to see a few puddles of water gathering beneath their dripping clothes.

“Let me ring for a servant,” Mrs. Markham said, moving to the bellpull. “I shall have some blankets brought in so you may dry yourselves off.”

It was a few minutes later when Mrs. Ingram walked in with a stack of blankets. Cecily shrugged off Nash’s coat, the bite of the air sending a shiver through her. “Here you are. Thank you for allowing me to use it.”

Nash draped it over his arm and took one of Mrs. Ingram’s blankets, wrapping it around Cecily’s shoulders. Her heart squeezed at the tenderness of the gesture and at his seeing to her needs first. Until she reminded herself it was all a show for his mother. Chiding herself, Cecily started toward the doorway.

“Oh, Nash,” Mrs. Markham said. “Not quite thirty minutes ago, Mr. Steele stopped by to speak with you.”

Nash stood from where he was helping Mrs. Ingram dry up the puddles on the floor. “Did he leave a note?”

“No, but he said he would be at 34 George Street in Marylebone until three and that if he did not see you there, he would attempt another visit tomorrow.” Mrs. Markham glanced at the clock resting on the dining room mantel. “It is only a quarter after two. You can still make it if you hurry.”

“Might I take the carriage?”

“Certainly. I shall have Caldwell see it readied while you change.”

“Thank you,” he said, stepping past his mother, but he paused before Cecily. “I’ll be back in time to join you and the Rothsburgs at the park.”

Cecily smiled her relief. Lord Harlow would most likely be there, but he would likely not seek an audience with her if Nash and she were together. Yes, that was the reason she wished him there. “Considering the state of the Rothsburgs’ carriage, that would certainly be helpful.”

“I believe they have a second, but in case I’m mistaken, I’d best be on my way.” He took hold of her hand and placed a quick kiss on her knuckles. “I’ll see you shortly.”

No matter that Nash’s gesture was all for show, Cecily couldn’t seem to prevent the heat from flooding her face. And the color only deepened when she realized Mrs. Markham was watching her with a calculating look.

“I suppose Adelaide is in the drawing room?” Cecily asked before Mrs. Markham could ask whatever was brewing in her thoughts.

Mrs. Markham nodded.

“I purchased a new frame for her, but it won’t arrive until later today, so I bought her some ribbons as well.”

Mrs. Markham’s expression softened. “That was thoughtful of you. She has been a touch melancholy today.”

Cecily lifted her reticule, glad she had kept it beneath Nash’s coat to keep its contents dry. “Then perhaps I should also offer her one or two of the sweets I bought for the boys at the confectioners. There is plenty to share.”

Mrs. Markham exhaled, tilting her head to one side. “Cecily, I hope you know that, if there is anything you wish to speak to me about, I am willing and eager to listen.”

Cecily’s heart lifted into her chest, but she could not find the words. Or, more likely, she could not find the courage to speak the whole truth. Not when Mrs. Markham would encourage her to open her heart to one of the gentlemen pursuing her. She had no intention of doing so. Her course was set, and no one would be the poorer for it. “I know.”

Mrs. Markham’s gaze roved over her, and Cecily worried she meant to press the subject, but then her eyes settled on the blanket wrapped around her. “Why don’t you go change as well? You can join us in the drawing room when you’ve finished.”

Relief flooded over Cecily at Mrs. Markham’s mercy. “I shall be down shortly.”

There was nothing that made Cecily more unsettled than deception. Except, possibly, the way Nash could put every part of her into turmoil with a simple glance or touch. It was a sensation she typically abhorred—feeling so entirely out of control of herself—and yet, she’d recklessly invited it. And more stupidly still, she found that she looked forward to their next interaction. Heaven help her.

Chapter Nineteen

Nash searched the occupied tables of the coffee house until he located Johnathan at a corner table near the back, sitting alone with a half-eaten dish before him and reading over some papers. His bodyguard sat nearby, his gaze already on Nash.

“How is the curry?” Nash asked, approaching his friend.

Johnathan glanced up from his plate of dully colored food. “Lackluster.”

Nash pulled out a chair and took a seat. “I thought you said the food here was authentic.”

“On my last visit, this place was owned by an Indian man by the name of Sake Dean Mahomed. It catered to men like us—men who’d returned to England but missed their lives in India. Apparently, it only remained in business for one year, and the poor chap went bankrupt. Now look at it.” He shook his head, glancing around. “Just another place to eat, with food that scarcely resembles that of the real thing.”