“It is far too easy to take my life for granted and forget my wife’s humble origins.”
Malcolm arched a brow. “You speak as though she is from the lower orders.”
“But you know as well as I that in society, money doesn’t matter as much as breeding. Enough income will allow you entrance to a degree, but those from new money are labeled as gauche social climbers, and her family’s money is as new as you can get,” said Sidney. “Her father built an empire from the sweat of his brow, and unlike the rest of his kind, he is proud of his history, and Molly was instilled with the ideals and virtues her parents prize.”
Sidney paused for a moment and frowned as though searching for the next words. “You and I are the products of our class. Raised to believe being the master means you needn’t apologize or concern yourself with your servants’ well-being. Molly has tried to make me see reason for some time now, gently nudging me in the proper direction, but I suppose hearing my advice to you concerning your behavior was her breaking point.”
With a grimace, he added, “She abandoned subtlety and went for a blatant attack.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Sidney leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “The truth is that Miss Leigh is entirely correct. Your behavior has been appalling, and not just for your deception with her. What would you do if a gentleman asked you to blacken your honor with his lies?”
Malcolm stiffened. “It was hardly a matter of blackening honor—”
Sidney held up a staying hand. “Just answer the question.”
“I would never agree to such a thing.” Pausing, he considered that. “And I would frame my rejection in such a manner that the gentleman would never ask me such a thing again.”
“And if that man were someone with power over you to force your compliance?” asked Sidney with a significant tone.
Malcolm knew that answer readily enough, but the words froze on his tongue. The fact was that there were no words for such a blackguard. “The servants have their free will just as any man does. They needn’t work for me if I am such a wretched master.”
But even as he spouted that protest, Miss Leigh’s objections came to mind, reminding him of all the reasons why that was difficult or even impossible in some cases. Yes, the choice was always there, but it was hardly worth noting when the alternative was so bleak and dismal.
“I don’t need you staring daggers at me,” said Malcolm with a frown. “It is clear you think me in the wrong.”
Sidney gave a low hum in the back of his throat and watched Malcolm with narrowed eyes. “As you’ve said before, defensiveness is often a sign of guilt. If you were confident in your course of action, then you wouldn’t feel the slightest need to convince me. A peaceful conscience requires no affirmation.”
The pair sat in silence with only the sound of the ticking grandfather clock in the corner and footsteps in some distant part of the house to break it. Which was for the best because Malcolm didn’t trust himself to speak at that moment.
Defending his honor was hardly being “defensive,” as though he needed the approval of everyone around him to act as was right. Servants were his retainers. They were paid to do as he asked. But even as he considered those thoughts, his stomach twisted.
Yet another sign that all was not right.
Despite his father’s spirit whispering to him that he needn’t concern himself with such matters, Malcolm couldn’t help the niggling guilt that tugged at his heart and brought him back again and again to this subject. It didn’t help matters that Sidney was throwing Malcolm’s own words at him.
If he felt firm about his behavior, then why did he feel the need to defend his decision to others? It wasn’t as though Malcolm hadn’t faced such opposition before in his life, and in those moments, he’d felt no compunction to force others to align with his way of thinking. Though he didn’t wish to acknowledge it, those particles of doubt demanded others endorse his behavior for his conscience to sit right.
He sighed, letting it out in one long breath that puffed out his cheeks and had him sinking further into the armchair.
“After watching you and Miss Leigh, I find myself wondering how often I have tested my wife’s patience by not apologizing,” said Sidney with a distracted air as he stared at the wall opposite.
“What reason does a gentleman have to apologize?” The question slipped from Malcolm’s mouth before he had reason to question it, but his brows pulled low as he considered that.
Sidney’s brows rose. “It’s as though your father has risen from the grave.”
Malcolm’s frown deepened. “He was a good man.”
“I never said he wasn’t. But being good doesn’t mean infallible, and a flawed man ought to apologize when he has done wrong.”
“I—” But Malcolm’s words froze on his tongue, for as much as that made sense, he couldn’t help but hear his father’s spirit calling from beyond the grave, telling him to be strong and immovable.
Sidney glanced at his friend and rose to his feet. “I came to invite you for a ride. I cannot stand to sit idle all afternoon. I must do something.”
Malcolm shook his head. “My thanks, but I am in no mood for it.”
“You are not in the mood for a ride?” asked Sidney with raised brows.
“What of it?”
