Page 84 of A Match of Misfortune

“Children should not be using a Bath chair for a plaything,” Lord Walton said. “They are likely to cause harm to some innocent bystander.”

“My sister cannot walk,” Cecily said, growing low on patience for this couple and their judgmental demeanor. “The chair is hers.”

Lord and Lady Walton gave one another a knowing glance before Lord Walton’s gaze returned to Nash. “Perhaps that is where your streak of bad luck has come from. It is a well-accepted fact that interacting with an invalid will bring about misfortune.”

Fredrick was already backing the chair away, but with the way Adelaide’s gaze immediately dropped to her hands, Cecily knew she’d heard his comment.

How dare he!

Rage darkened the corners of Cecily’s eyes, and she barely felt Mrs. Markham take hold of her hand in an attempt to calm her. She did not wish to be calmed. She wished to give Lord Walton the verbal lashing he deserved.

“My luck has not one thing to do with Miss Adelaide,” Nash said, his voice dangerously low. He took a step closer to Lord Walton, forcing the man to crane his neck upward like the intolerable child he was. “And if I ever hear you suggest such a nonsensical thing again, or if I discover that you have told someone else of your appalling falsehood, I doubt I’d be able to restrain myself a second time from planting a facer on that perfectly straight nose of yours. Do you understand?”

Lord Walton gave a hard swallow and nodded.

Nash continued to stare down at him in a most intimidating manner, and Cecily could not help but feel appreciation at hearing him come to Adelaide’s defense.

Lord Rothsburg wrapped an arm around his cousin’s shoulder, pulling him backward. “Well, this has been a most pleasant chat. But as we have just arrived, we have much to see. Do take care.”

The Waltons simply stood there, gaping after the group as they again started on their way. No one spoke as they continued down the path. All Cecily wanted to do was go speak with Adelaide and make certain she was well. But she knew her sister better than anyone, and Adelaide would not wish for the attention to be drawn to her a second time. Particularly if she were near to tears.

“That man is a dunderheaded goosecap,” Mrs. Markham said, breaking the silence.

Cecily’s gaze shot to her. At the unexpected declaration, a rogue bout of humor fought to replace her irritation.

Lord Rothsburg gave a cautious smile. “Exceptionally well put, Aunt.”

She huffed. “It is the truth of it.”

“In hindsight,” Bridget said, letting out a most pitiable sigh, “it would have been wise to forego speaking with the Waltons. I am so sorry.”

Cecily glanced over at Bridget’s sorrow-filled eyes. “Do not blame yourself. You were trying to help.” In Cecily’s periphery, she could see Nash’s hands clench into fists. Her gaze shifted to him. “It is not your fault, either.”

He glanced her way but said nothing, setting his sights forward again.

They were a solemn lot as they started along the Italian walk, but the sight of the rows of arches seemed to cheer them, so that by the time they arrived at the painting of the ancient ruins at Palmyra, even Adelaide was smiling again, though it was not as bright as it had been.

“Look, it’s the acrobats,” Jamison said, pointing. A large man stood at the center of a group of onlookers, two smaller men standing on each of his shoulders and a man atop them. A fifth stood nearby, speaking with their spectators and gesturing to the top as though asking if he should join the others. When he started climbing the tower of men as though they were but a tree, the crowd gasped in delight.

With everyone’s gazes fixed on them, and with Adelaide’s chair positioned where she could best see the act, Cecily started toward her. She could not wait any longer to speak with her, but as she approached, Nash stepped in next to Adelaide. He crouched down near her chair. The crowd was so loud in their excitement that Cecily could not make out what it was he was saying.

Both of their expressions were solemn but not sad, and Adelaide nodded as Nash spoke. After a minute or two, Nash smiled, and Adelaide did likewise. A bright, lovely smile.

Nash stood again, his gaze catching Cecily’s.

He started toward her, and Cecily cursed the way her heart rate increased as he neared. The way her breath became harder to draw because of it. She was supposed to have a better hold on her wayward reactions to him by now, but instead, they only seemed to be intensifying.

“How is she?” Cecily asked when he stepped to her side.

“We have decided to not let others’ shameful opinions ruin our day.”

Was that all he meant to say? “I am glad to hear it.”

Shoulder to shoulder, or more like Nash’s shoulder to Cecily’s head, Nash turned his attention back toward the acrobats.

Apparently, he truly didn’t mean to say more.

“Thank you,” Cecily said, finding the words were easier to speak when she was not looking at him.