Malcolm adjusted the whitepapier-mâchémask, which covered the whole of his face. “I am a groom who has borrowed his master’s clothes to sneak into the masquerade.”
Despite his evening clothes being amongst his favorite and of fine quality, he felt underdressed compared to the rest of the gathering. Though there were some here and there who eschewed fancy dress, Malcolm rather envied Sidney’s attire. The fellow wore billowing black breeches gathered into his leather boots and a stark white shirt. A red sash was bound around his waist, holding up a pair of pistols and a cutlass. Despite being plainer than many of the costumes gracing the gathering, the clothes were all of far finer quality than any pirate could afford or maintain in such pristine condition.
Sidney pulled the sword from his side, giving it a proper flourish. “Avast.”
Malcolm couldn’t help the snort. For all that his friend was attempting a roguish air, the fellow looked precisely what he was—a gentleman playacting. And not well. Malcolm tried to hide his chuckle, but he couldn’t.
“You are a terrible friend,” said Sidney as he straightened and tucked his cutlass away, and Malcolm laughed all the harder.
“I apologize, but it is difficult to see you as a dashing pirate with the neck of your shirt sewn shut. Masquerades are hardly a place for modesty.”
“Says the fully dressed man,” replied Sidney with a narrowed look.
“Come, Sidney. Don’t be coy. You’ve never demurred over wearing a costume that displays your ‘assets.’ I seem to recall you attending a particular ball dressed as a Roman soldier with your calves bared to all and sundry.”
His friend shifted in place. “Yes, well, a married man must make compromises, or he might find his wife dressed in a similar fashion, and I am in no mood to call out every man I see ogling her. Apparently, she doesn’t wish for others to see me in all my glory, either, so I must curtail my flamboyance tonight.”
Malcolm barked a laugh and shook his head, glancing over to the woman in question, who was busy welcoming the guests (although he’d chosen to forgo a receiving line). Though dressed to match her husband in a pair of breeches, the lady was far more covered than most ladies in attendance would be tonight.
“You look quite pleased with yourself,” said Sidney.
Crossing his arms, Malcolm beamed at the room. “I have been particularly brilliant, so I cannot help but be quite pleased with myself.”
Sidney gave a vague hum that was neither supportive nor dismissive, but Malcolm refused to allow it to dim the brightness in his soul at the thought of what was to come. Miss Leigh hadn’t given any hint of what her costume was to be, but that mattered little, for he was certain she would shine among the guests.
“Despite your clear confidence, I cannot help but think you are making a mistake, Malcolm.”
“It’s time for the truth to come out, but is it wrong for me to want one more reassurance?”
Granted, instinct told him the evening was unnecessary. For the past three weeks, he’d been forced to steal small moments with Miss Leigh, and they’d arrived at a point where his playing the part of the groom was more hindrance than help. Again and again, she’d proven herself to be a genuine person. Flawed, certainly, but Malcolm had never desired perfection. Earnestness, affection, and kindness were quite enough for him at present, for the ladies in London were devoid of all three.
However, she hadn’t arrived at their meeting place for the last few days, without a word or warning, and Malcolm couldn’t help but wonder about the reason. One final push, and he’d have his answer.
“In all honesty, I think everything you’ve done is wrong,” replied Sidney. “Dishonesty is a terrible foundation for any relationship.”
Malcolm shifted in place and straightened his jacket. “Perhaps, but so is doubt. How else am I to know the truth behind her motives?”
Sidney merely arched a brow at his friend, and Malcolm shook his head with a huff. This was a conversation they’d had far too many times already, and there was no point in discussing it further.
“You needn’t look so smug, sir. Just because you managed to find a decent lady amongst the harpies of London doesn’t mean the rest of us are so lucky,” muttered Malcolm.
But rather than look chastised, Sidney’s lips twitched into a smile, his gaze turning to his wife, who was doing a fair imitation of the captains who inspired her costume—keeping a weather eye on the servants, refreshments, dancing, and all the rest whilst guiding the party forward.
“Would your wife prefer flowers, sweets, or something else?” asked Malcolm.
“Ought I to be nervous that a gentleman is sending my wife a gift?”
Malcolm smirked. “You needn’t fear, Sidney. I have no designs on your lady, but I do appreciate all the effort she put into tonight. I haven’t the foggiest notion about such matters, and she’s managed it all beautifully. I ought to do something to thank her for her work.”
That earned him another warm smile as Sidney gazed upon the lady who had won his heart. Although they had been married nearly a year, the fellow couldn’t seem to help himself, and though he longed to tease his friend about it, Malcolm couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not when he hoped to find himself equally bewitched by his future wife.
“She adores orchids,” said Sidney. “She has a bit of a green thumb and cultivates them in our conservatory. Adding another to her collection would please her immensely.”
Malcolm nodded and made note of that. If he needed to send all the way to London for it, he would. Molly deserved a cartload of blossoms for everything she’d done for tonight.
But thoughts of other ladies faded from his mind when the first of the Leigh family stepped through the door. As Malcolm’s pretense had kept him from meeting them until tonight, he’d assumed he wouldn’t know one from the other, but in a flash, he knew the young lady who first emerged must be Miss Katherine Leigh, the next in line. Miss Leigh had spoken of her family at length at various times, and Malcolm suspected Miss Katherine would be the only one who would eschew fancy dress.
The young lady hurried inside the makeshift ballroom and gazed out at the crowd, scouring it for who knew what. Seeming not to find it, she nudged her spectacles up her nose and drifted towards the wall, standing amongst the wallflowers yet not mingling with them.
