A Bride for the Prizefighter - Alice Coldbreath Page 0,52
forgiving and practically demanded that Cecily admit herself complicit to the elopement plot instead of being forced into the carriage.
“You are not at the bench now, my dear sir!” Mina had been forced to interrupt at one point when his railings had reduced Cecily to a gibbering wreck. “If I might suggest you would be better employed elsewhere than in these pointless recriminations.”
He had drawn himself up very tall at this, his nostrils quivering. “Am I to understand, Miss Walters—” he started cuttingly.
“It’s Mrs. Nye now,” she corrected him in a steely tone. “And I’m afraid I must insist on the immediate sending of a card to Cecily’s hostess otherwise, my efforts will all have been for naught. You must have your footman deliver it without delay.”
“A card?” he snapped, his gaze darting from Mina to Cecily and back again.
“A card,” she confirmed. “Explaining Cecily felt unwell and went out to the garden in the hope the fresh air would revive her but was sadly unfit for company and obliged to return home. Perhaps Cecily could add a postscript note, apologizing for not saying her goodbyes before she left?”
Sir Matthew’s lips pursed a moment as he considered this and directed a piercing look at her. “You think of everything,” he said with a curl of his lips. “And seem to possess what is to be hoped is a rare talent for forging excuses, Mrs. Nye,” he said dryly. “One which I am not altogether sure I approve of.”
Mina inclined her head. “You may not approve, but might I suggest that Cecily’s reputation would greatly benefit from it at this present time?”
He stood very still for a moment and then strode around his desk, whipping out both silver pen and card. “Compose yourself!” he shot at Cecily who was propped against the wall, her face streaked with tears. “You will come and add a postscript when I am done with these few lines.”
“I couldn’t!” moaned Cecily. “My hand is trembling like a leaf!”
“You will come and write it, you little fool!” he flared up. “To prove you are indeed safe and sound at home and not elsewhere! That was the point, was it not?” he directed at Mina. She nodded slightly. “How is your father, by the way?” he asked, stepping back from the desk and gesturing to Cecily to approach. Cecily complied, though she dragged her feet over it and took the pen from him with a large sniff.
“He is dead, Sir Matthew. Some twelve days now,” Mina said quietly.
Cecily’s hand flew to her mouth and she almost dropped the pen. “Oh, but you never said!”
Mina managed to stop herself from pointing out she had never asked. “The school was closed up two days later and I left Bath to get married,” she added with dignity. “Now, if you will excuse me. I cannot leave my husband waiting any longer.”
She left the room quickly, and though she heard someone call out to her, she did not tarry but hurried out into the hall. The footman hovering in the hallway sprang to open the door for her and luckily Sir Matthew had not given her the chance to divest herself of cloak and bonnet. “Thank you,” she called over her shoulder as she ran lightly down the steps and across the gravel. To her relief, she found Nye had brought the carriage arrange. Making for it she was surprised when he leant down from his perch and extended a hand down to her. Clambering up the steps, she seized it and was swung up onto the seat at the front beside him.
*
They did not speak until they had swept down the drive and were back on the open road once more. Mina had a horrible suspicion the front door to Sir Matthew’s house had opened as they had bowled down the drive, but she kept her head held high and had stared ahead of her the whole time, so she could not be quite sure above the sound of the horse’s hooves.
Once they were out of sight of the house, she breathed a sigh of relief and Nye relaxed the pace of the horses. “That bad, was it?” he asked wryly.
“Not really,” she answered conscientiously. “Although, Sir Matthew was naturally most displeased.”
“He would be.”
She darted a hasty glance at Nye’s profile. “I did not really explain, but—”
“You don’t have to,” he forestalled her. “It’s none of my business and I’d rather keep it that way.”