Page 89 of A Match of Misfortune

It was likely time to start considering the end of their betrothal.

“What is the matter?” Adelaide asked. Her sister was studying Cecily’s expression.

She forced a smile to her lips. “It is nothing.”

“If you are still worried about what that gentleman said regarding invalids, you needn’t be.” Adelaide had already assured her earlier that she’d had the most glorious day of her life, and that one hateful comment and a few unkind looks hardly diminished the experience. Cecily hated that anything had diminished it.

“I was actually thinking of Nash.” She paused, realizing how that likely sounded. Even if it were true. “Well, not like that, but that he will need to return to India soon.”

“You must go with him.”

Cecily stared at her sister. “Absolutely not. I will not leave you, and I have no desire to leave England.”

Adelaide took her newly rolled strip of paper, pasted one end, and carefully positioned it on the frame. “But you love him and he must be in India. It is the only logical solution.”

Again, love was anything but logical. Not that she loved Nash. Clearly. A strange lifting of her stomach countered her resolve, but she ignored it. Feelings were unpredictable and heedless. She could not go to India for so many reasons. The most pertinent to this moment being that she would not leave Adelaide. Ever. That and their betrothal was only temporary. Yet seeing the hope in Adelaide’s eyes, it suddenly felt heartless not to prepare her for the eventual end of it. “I can’t help but wonder if we entered into our betrothal too hastily.”

Adelaide paused, a frown coming to her lips, then her hand settled over Cecily’s. “Whatever is causing you to doubt, you can make it work. You have loved him for so long.”

Cecily’s lips parted at the odd sentiment. Wherever had she gotten that idea?

“I saw the two of you together that day in the library, before Nash left for India.”

Now her mouth gaped open. “You saw us?”

Adelaide nodded. “Sarah and I hadn’t made it far when I realized I had left my blanket on the settee. When we arrived near the door, we heard you two speaking, so I told her to wait a moment.”

Cecily’s stunned gaze shifted to Sarah, who sat smiling to herself as she continued with her sewing. “You allowed my sister to eavesdrop?”

Sarah glanced up at Cecily, a twinkle in her eye. “Not the whole of the conversation, miss. I wheeled her away before … well …”

Cecily’s cheeks burned red. No wonder Adelaide thought as she did. She hadn’t seen how Cecily’s moment of weakness had concluded. Not that she would explain the situation now.

Adelaide gave a small giggle. “Even before that, I had my suspicions you preferred him. You could never keep your eyes from him for long, and anytime he was around, you acted oddly, like you wanted to impress him.”

“You were eight at the time. I’m not certain you are a credible source.”

“Oh, but there have been other signs of your attachment over the years. You have made countless comments about him, at the most peculiar moments, as though he was always on your mind. If Nash were here, I’m certain he would attempt it.” She imitated Cecily as she spoke the words, and Cecily did not appreciate her sister’s haughty account of her one bit. “Nash would likely fawn all over a lady like her. Nash has⁠—”

“No need to continue. I understand your point.”

Adelaide smiled, clearly not yet finished presenting her evidence. “When you would read one of Mrs. Markham’s letters aloud, you’d always skim over the bits about Nash as though you didn’t care, but later, I’d see you poring over them. But the most telling of them all is that with every gentleman you’ve met since, you’ve compared him to Nash.”

“I’ve done no such thing!”

“You have. Not outright, mind you, but your complaints were always in direct opposition to a quality Nash possessed.” She ticked up a finger. “Mr. Leroy was not tall enough for your liking. Mr. Bybee was not ambitious enough. Lord Stewart lacked in the competitive spirit you sought in a match. Mr. Rancliff was too dull and had no sensibility for lighthearted teasing.” She had four fingers up and now raised her thumb in addition. “And Lord Harlow did not⁠—”

“Again, I understand your point.” Though that did not mean she wished to dwell on it and whether there was any truth there. Likely because she suspected there might be.

“Actually, I would like a little more clarification.” Nash strolled into the room with an irksomely wide grin on his face, and Cecily was confident he’d been lingering at the door far longer than she’d like to think. “What is it Lord Harlow lacked?”

“Your vanity,” Cecily said, sending him a pointed look. “And your tendency toward eavesdropping.”

“That is not true. He is amply vain and clearly has a talent for eavesdropping. How else would the entirety of the ton know of my wrecked ship so quickly?”

“I’ve already told you, he assured me he was not the one who shared the news.”

“Ah, so it is honesty he is lacking?”