“That is not an apology, Mr. Tate! Are you incapable of admitting fault?”
Retorts flashed through Malcolm’s mind, and it took all his willpower not to speak them aloud. What did he have to apologize for? Wishing to woo her? He’d already said more than his father would’ve ever permitted. A gentleman didn’t apologize or admit weakness, after all; that was the most basic tenet of his class. And if she believed he would so willingly surrender it, then Miss Leigh was a fool.
Malcolm drew in another deep breath and stepped away from that thought. It wasn’t true and didn’t reflect well on him.
How had this conversation gone so wrong? They had been making progress, but now Malcolm felt as though he was on the defense, fighting for his life.
“I am sorry if my words have upset you, Miss Leigh,” he said with a sigh. “But surely we can move past this. I readily admit that things have not unfolded as I had intended, but can you not feel the pull between us?”
Stepping nearer, he longed to take her hand in his, but for all that they were far from the crowd, there was far too much attention on them to do anything so brash.
“I have waited so many years to find a lady with your fire and spirit,” he said in a low voice. Miss Leigh didn’t meet his gaze, but Malcolm felt her attention fixed on him; only a fool would ignore the fact that she was holding her breath or the gentle flush of pink in her cheeks. “I shan’t surrender at the first sign of trouble. I will do everything in my power to secure your good opinion once more.”
Her gaze snapped up and met his. They were such an interesting shade—almost gray but with a hint of green—and unlike any eyes he’d ever seen before, and Malcolm knew he wanted to stare into them for many years to come.
“I am going to attend the Michaelmas assembly,” he said, lowering his voice to a near whisper, and Miss Leigh leaned ever so slightly towards him. “I do hope you will grant me the honor of standing up with me.”
“You vex me, sir,” she whispered.
“The opposite of love is not hatred, Miss Leigh. It is apathy, and until you can say to me that you don’t care about me, I won’t surrender,” he said in reply. Then, leaning closer, Malcolm gave her a hint of a smile. “And admit it. You enjoy my vexing ways, and if I’m not mistaken, that vexes you even more.”
For one long heartbeat, Miss Leigh stared into his eyes, and then she huffed and pulled away with a scowl. But not even her heaviest huffing sigh could hide the glimmer of interest shining in her gaze. Try as she might to hide it, Malcolm felt it there and in the clear absence of any rejections.
“If I have to wait all evening, I shall,” he called after her, borrowing those words from a month ago.
Miss Leigh gave no response, though Malcolm held his breath, waiting to catch any saucy retort she might give—as she had in the past. But his words were met with silence.
He watched as she rejoined the others, and everything inside him wanted to follow after her like an obedient dog nipping at his master’s heels. Which was ridiculous in many ways. Firstly, he was not some lovesick puppy tripping over himself to catch the eye of a young miss.
Secondly, it was clear from the set of her jaw and the stiffness in her spine that he’d done all he could today. For one shining moment, it was as though nothing had altered between them. The troubles of the past sennight had never been, leaving Miss Leigh and Mr. Malcolm as they had been before all that bother. That was enough for now.
But knowing that in his head didn’t keep Malcolm’s feet from following after her. Thankfully, he caught himself before he did anything embarrassing and turned himself in another direction. Hands tucked behind him, he meandered off into the distance, avoiding the rest of the party.
“Are you incapable of admitting fault?”
Malcolm frowned at the question and batted it away. Miss Leigh certainly was a tempestuous lady, and he couldn’t fault her for a sign of temper when her spirit was one of the things he adored most about her. Mother certainly wouldn’t have ever raised her voice to Father in such a manner; Malcolm doubted she was capable of doing so. Not that the gentleman would’ve permitted such disrespect.
Standing on the crest of the hill, overlooking the gathering, his eyes quickly sought her, and once more Miss Leigh was in the thick of things, with Molly at her side. The pair wove through the guests, slipping along with such ease and comfort that even Malcolm couldn’t help but be impressed by Miss Leigh’s skill.
Could she truly not see how incredible she was?
The thought was baffling, and Malcolm stood there for a long moment trying to make sense of her confession, for it seemed entirely impossible that Miss Leigh would battle with self-doubt.
For all that the lady was good with people, she didn’t understand them fully. She had all but accused Malcolm of being spoiled and demanding, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Yes, he had inherited the bulk of his wealth, but that did not presuppose that he was incapable of toiling. He did have assistance in the management of the estate, but he was far more involved than many of his class.
Malcolm Tate was not some petulant child. It was ridiculous for her to imply such a thing.
Drawing in a deep breath, Malcolm gazed out at the people gathered on the lawn and searched the faces for someone with whom he could converse, but the thought of venturing back into the fray was like a weight pressing down on his shoulders.
Miss Leigh clearly didn’t understand what an apology was. Malcolm had been very clear in saying the word, so why would she believe him incapable of doing so?
Scowling at that thought, Malcolm forced his mind back to the task at hand. A distraction was just what he needed, but beyond the Bracegirdles and Miss Leigh, there was no one he wished to speak to at present. The latter was not a possibility, and the former were occupied with conversations of their own, and Malcolm couldn’t stomach the thought of wading into Sidney’s collection of people.
How could Miss Leigh accuse him of such a thing? Malcolm had said he was apologizing. The word had left his lips. What more did the lady require?
Teeth clenched together, he wandered down the hill and skirted the others. As much as he wanted a distraction, conversation or games were not what he desired, and there was little else to find here. Best to simply wave the white flag and go home.
But the Bracegirdles had driven him here.
