Page 5 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

He looked down at Lady Arabella. “I’ve never been this close to one before, so apparently, I am, my lady.” He began his descent, trying to hang on to the hissing, scratching cat. More sneezes. “I will drop the animal, if you can catch it.”

“Oh no, my lord. She will just run off again.”

Bloody hell. The best thing that could happen to any of them was to have the blasted cat run off. As far away from him as possible. He continued to hang on to the feline until he jumped to the ground. He heard the sound of fabric tearing as his feet landed. Nash closed his eyes and groaned when he realized the back of his breeches had just split.

With a scowl, he turned the cat over to Lady Arabella, who purred and talked nonsense to the devil-feline. She tucked the creature into the basket and covered it with the cloth once more.

“I suggest you remove that animal before it runs off again.” He took out a handkerchief and attempted to brush some of the dried dirt from his face.

“How can I possibly thank you, my lord?” Lady Arabella’s face shone with happiness as she tucked the blanket snugly around the basket. The animal did not move, seemingly worn out from its adventure.

“You can thank me by never allowing that—thing—out of the house again.” He sneezed once more and wiped his nose. He retrieved his coat from the grass and shrugged into it, hoping it covered enough of his breeches to allow him a dignified retreat from the park. “Now, I will bid you good day, Lady Arabella.” He bowed as if he wasn’t covered in mud, with a tear in his breeches, and his face dirty. Turning on his heel, he strode out of the park and toward his townhouse.

…

Later that evening, Nash descended the stairs to the Ashbourne ballroom to join his sister, Eugenia, and her husband, Lord Devon. He squashed the urge to turn tail and run when he noticed Lady Arabella standing next to Eugenia, chatting away. Just watching her, he felt a sneeze coming on. She certainly looked a lot better than she had the last time he’d seen her. Of course, he imagined he looked more restored, as well.

Earlier, his valet, Andrews, had sniffed his disapproval at the condition in which Nash had returned home. With raised eyebrows, but no comment—none was necessary—he had helped Nash out of his clothes and, holding them by his fingertips, marched across the room to drop them into a bundle on the floor. “A bath, my lord?”

“Yes. But a large glass of brandy first.”

“Indeed.”

Pushing the scene from his mind, he stepped up to the group. “Good evening, Lady Arabella, Eugenia, Devon.”

“Oh, Lord Clarendon.” Arabella extended her hand. “Thank you once again for rescuing my cat. Well, actually, she really wasn’t my cat—”

“Excuse me?” Had he suffered indignities and angered his valet for naught? “Not your cat?”

“Yes. You see, I was delivering the cat to Lady Oswald when Miss Aphrodite escaped.”

“Then it was Lady Oswald’s cat?”

“Well, yes, sort of.”

He knew he should just drop the subject, but Eugenia and Devon eyed him with curiosity, so he felt the—foolish—need to ask, “Would you care to explain, my lady?”

“I rescued Miss Aphrodite from an alley on Oxford Street after a very bad cat fight. I sewed up her injuries and took care of her until she healed. Lady Oswald expressed a desire to own a cat, so I offered her Miss Aphrodite. I was delivering her when she ran off this afternoon.”

“You rescued Lady Arabella’s cat, Nash? How very sweet.” Eugenia smiled at him in such a way he felt ridiculous. No one had ever called him sweet before. Nor would anyone ever again, if he had anything to say about it.

He’d gotten disgustingly muddy, torn his breeches, suffered from sneezing fits—all to rescue a cat that probably belonged in the wild anyway. Anxious to turn the conversation, he extended his hand to Eugenia. “May I have the privilege of this dance, sister?” The orchestra was just starting up a cotillion, and he wished to be gone from Lady Arabella’s company before he hurled insults at her and her animal.

“No. This baby is giving me a bit of stomach upset.” She placed her hand on her tummy. “I’d heard morning time was the problem, and although I have some difficulties with my breakfast, lately evening seems just as troublesome. We will be leaving shortly.”

“After a good night’s rest, we are off to the country early tomorrow morning.” A sly grin crossed Devon’s face, and he bent down to whisper in Eugenia’s ear. She drew in a sharp breath, and a deep shade of red rose to her cheeks.

Nash groaned, not wanting to know what his brother-in-law had said. “All right, you two. Devon, remember, Eugenia is my baby sister. I do not wish to know what it was you whispered to her, but please discontinue before I feel the need to ask you to step outside.”

A wide grin split his brother-in-law’s face. “She’s my wife!”

“And my sister!”

“Enough!” Eugenia laughed and placed her hand on Nash’s chest. “All is fine. I promise.” She fanned herself and cast a sideways glance at her husband, who studied her with a look which Nash preferred not to be aware.

Deciding he had had enough of their infatuation with each other, he bowed and kissed Eugenia’s cheek. “I shall leave the two of you to toddle on home. ’Tis difficult for me to stand here while smothered with all this love floating around. Have a safe journey tomorrow.”

Lady Arabella looked back and forth between Lord Clarendon and Lady Devon. “I believe felicitations are in order?”