“Oh, I was quite concerned about the horse,” she said with an innocent smile.
“Is that so?”
“Quite.”
Mr. Malcolm chuckled. “Do not lie to me, Miss Leigh. Your thoughts have strayed for a few minutes, but as I found you in just such a pensive expression before your unfortunate tumble, I have decided not to take it as a personal affront to my conversational abilities.”
Rosanna gave a vague hum of agreement and pointed towards a gap in the trees through which a view of the nearby pasture could be seen with the rock walls crisscrossing across the swath of green and the distant white dots of sheep.
“Isn’t that magnificent?”
“Come now. I’ve managed to offend you and make up sweet once again, we’ve exchanged names and details of our families, and then we managed a rather pleasant conversation before you began ignoring me—which has done grievous injury to my poor pride. You’ve circumvented my previous question long enough, Miss Leigh,” he said, nudging her arm. When Mr. Malcolm glanced at her, the jesting eased from his gaze, and the clear blue shone with true interest. “What is troubling you?”
“So, we are good friends now?” she replied with a faint smile.
“The very best.”
After spending so much time desperate for a confidant, was she truly interested in turning away such a determined one? Their paths were unlikely to cross ever again, and buried in that knowledge was a morsel of freedom. Mr. Malcolm didn’t know Miss Rosanna Leigh, and even if he were to spread her confessions about, it would have little impact on her life, for their worlds did not intersect.
“Do you ever feel burdened by your shortcomings?” she said, forcing the words out.
Chapter 3
Mr. Malcolm’s light brows jerked upwards. “But I am such a fine specimen of masculine perfection. What shortcomings could I have?”
His tone meant the words were a jest, and though Rosanna gave him a placating smile (or rather a faint version of one), she couldn’t lose herself in the humor. Her heart hurt too much.
The laughter fled his expression, and he pulled her to a stop with his brow furrowed. “No one is without faults, Miss Leigh, but the fact that you asked just such a question tells me you are far better than you give yourself credit for.”
Rosanna turned away, forcing them forward so he couldn’t see the disappointment in her gaze, and Mr. Malcolm sighed.
“I am afraid I cannot tell you what you wish to hear. I know I have faults like any man, but I cannot say the thought bothers me. I try my best. What more can I do?” Casting her yet another glance, Mr. Malcolm added, “I am sure you do the same.”
Another faltering smile, and Rosanna nodded, though she couldn’t bring herself to tell him the truth. Perhaps that was true of her now, but not even a year ago, Rosanna Leigh hadn’t troubled herself with doing her best. After all, she had tried to steal away her sister’s beau. Thankfully, Parker was a good man who adored his dearest Prudence and hadn’t fallen for Rosanna’s wiles.
She couldn’t think of those weeks without shuddering, her insides twisting anew as though she had sinned against Prudence this very afternoon, rather than ten months ago. What sort of person knows her dearest friend is in love with a man and then declares her undying love, fully expecting him to accept?
Not a good one, that was for certain.
For all that she’d tried to explain things away, Rosanna couldn’t hide from the truth. She’d known Parker and Prudence were enamored with each other and had known the hurt it would cause her sister. All was set right in the end, but that didn’t absolve her of those sins. And though much had changed in that time, Rosanna couldn’t say for certain the improvement was strong enough to warrant Mr. Malcolm’s praise.
But before either of them could say much on the subject, they emerged from the last of the thickets to find the road stretching perpendicular to them. The brow line in the grass placed a barrier between the pair. Not in a literal sense, but Rosanna felt the metaphorical one separating them. Though the genteel lady and the groom’s paths had aligned for this brief moment, Boxwood Manor lay to the right and Greater Edgerton on the left.
“My thanks for your assistance, Mr. Malcolm,” she said, turning in the direction she was to go. “And I forgive you for pushing me into the creek.”
Mr. Malcolm straightened, giving her a raise of his brow and a frown that were equal parts affronted and mocking, though the humor was turned inward. “I beg your pardon, Miss Leigh, but I think you must have suffered a blow to your head, for you are not remembering the incident correctly.”
“What I recall was standing on the edge of the creek, and though the ground beneath my feet did become unsteady, it didn’t give way until a great, hulking groom stepped next to me.”
“As it isn’t seemly to contradict a lady, I shall hold my tongue,” he said, sweeping into a bow. Once more he attempted to doff his hat, but the article was missing from his head. “Might I make up for my sins by accompanying you home?”
“That is gallant of you, but it is bad enough that you’ve lost the horse. I do not want to compound your sins by keeping you from returning to the stables. No doubt you are wanted by now, and it wouldn’t do for you to lose your position simply to be polite. I know the way.”
Mr. Malcolm considered that. “But what if you should be thrown into a ditch? How will you manage without a rescuer?”
Rosanna suppressed a smile at that. “I am a grown woman, Mr. Malcolm. I assure you I’ve rescued myself a time or two.”
Turning away, she pointed her feet home.
