“A moment, Barlow.”
The butler paused and turned on his heel with a bow of his head. “What may I do for you, sir?”
In truth, Malcolm wasn’t entirely certain. With his hand resting on the rail, he tapped his fingers against the polished wood.
“I do hope that neither you nor the rest of the staff was put out by my little charade.”
If that confession was startling in the least, Barlow made no sign of it, his expression remaining as stoic and unmoved as ever. “Of course not, sir. We are at your service.”
Malcolm nodded. “Good.”
The pair stood there for another long and silent moment before Barlow said, “Anything else you require of me, sir?”
With a wave of his hand, he set the butler back to his work and turned away. He didn’t know what he had expected of the interlude, but if the busy thoughts and disquieting turning of his stomach of late were any indication, Malcolm had anticipated a bit of peace. Perhaps the ability to breathe fully again.
Instead, he felt as weighed down as before. It was as though the Bracegirdles and Miss Leigh were standing over his shoulder, watching the entire exchange, but it wasn’t those judgmental gazes that had Malcolm’s feet pausing.
Was being not a monster enough for him?
As much as Malcolm wished to think that sorry excuse for an apology was enough, his interactions with Miss Leigh of late made it clear that his interpretation of “forgive me” was vastly different from what others expected.
Need he say the words precisely?
He longed to return to his work, but the constant failures of the past few days testified that his conscience—such as it was—wouldn’t leave him be until he set things to rights. For his peace of mind, if nothing else.
“Barlow,” he called once more.
“Yes, sir.” The butler again turned on his heel and returned to his master, standing before Malcolm with the same expression that somehow conveyed no sentiment whatsoever whilst still maintaining a hint of deference.
“I…” Malcolm’s voice faltered, and the words fled, leaving him longing to escape.
Surely this wasn’t that important. It was nothing. But the very fact that his tongue couldn’t seem to form the words was sign enough that something was amiss with him. What man couldn’t ever admit fault? At that moment, Malcolm’s thoughts crystallized, his mind focusing on what he was and what he wished to be, and that was so much more than “not a monster.”
“I apologize, Barlow, that you or any of the staff felt required to lie on my behalf,” said Malcolm. “I didn’t consider what I was asking of you, and it was wrong of me.”
Barlow’s brows shot upward in a flash before he forced them back down. The butler opened his mouth, though no words emerged.
“I give you my word that I shan’t ever ask you to do so again, and I hope you can forgive me. I am ashamed of my behavior. You deserve better from me.”
Despite his previous protests, the confession felt right. Proper. The knot in his stomach loosened, and Malcolm almost smiled at the pressure easing from his chest.
“Sir…” But Barlow’s sentence drifted off into nothing as he stared at Malcolm with a furrowed brow.
Malcolm held up a staying hand. “I do not expect you to say anything. I simply needed to clear my conscience.”
The butler remained there for another few heartbeats, staring at Malcolm, before he gave a clipped bow and hurried away. Once more, the sound of his father rolling in his grave echoed in his mind, but as Malcolm returned to his study, his steps were lighter than ever before.
Chapter 29
Taking a deep breath, as though plunging into the depths of the ocean, Rosanna stepped through the doorway of the assembly rooms, her eyes taking in the surroundings but registering not a bit of the foliage, bunting, and candles, despite the finery of the evening.
“Isn’t it lovely?” asked Francis, and Rosanna nodded (as was expected) while attempting to steady her heartbeat. “How do I look?”
“Like you always do.” Those curt words were all Papa offered as he stepped around the pair and strode straight to the card room.
“Pay him no mind. He is in a snit because I insisted he leave his precious book at home,” said Mama, taking Francis’s arm. “You look lovely.”
Leading them forward, the lady fairly bounced on her toes. “Tonight will be perfect!”
