Some logical part of his mind warned that he was being far too obvious in his eagerness. However, it was drowned out by her pull and his utter apathy toward what others might think concerning his behavior. The whispers were right; Malcolm Tate was enamored with Miss Rosanna Leigh, and he didn’t care if everyone knew it.
Molly’s words spurred him on, demanding he discover the truth as soon as possible, and when Miss Leigh straightened and met his gaze, his heart expanded at the sight of her. Miss Leigh’s eyes met his for a moment before dropping away, the faintest hint of pink stealing across her cheeks, but heaven help him, Malcolm hoped the slight curve of her lips meant it was a good sort of blush.
When had he become a fractious youth, scouring for any morsel of proof that his lady love might return his affection? Malcolm had managed to avoid that whilst a lad, and in all his courting attempts, those doubts and fears had never tainted his heart. But then, he didn’t think that organ had been fully invested in any of those ladies.
For all that Malcolm had believed himself to be in love with various misses over the years, not one of them had the power to discompose him so. Nor had their determination to catch him been in doubt. Despite Miss Leigh having promised him this dance, Malcolm held out his hand and prayed as fervently as any sinner seeking absolution that she might accept it.
Chapter 33
Malcolm’s lungs filled to bursting when Miss Leigh took hold of his hand without hesitation, her gaze rising once more to meet his with a hint of humor sparkling in those gray-green eyes of hers. Giving her former partner the barest of acknowledgment, he led her into the dancing, though they moved only a few steps over (as she had never left their ranks).
The other gentlemen and ladies exchanged partners and righted themselves for another set, and Malcolm merely held Miss Leigh’s hand, unwilling to release it. Saying not a word, she held his gaze, but it was as though her voice echoed in his thoughts, whispering to him that Molly’s assertions were true.
Of course, that could very well be his desperation mocking him, but Malcolm refused to allow anything so dark and morose to touch his heart at that moment. There was no room for it with hope burning bright.
There were still some minutes before the dance would begin, and he knew he ought to say something. Their previous conversation had been cut short, and there was still much to say on the subject, but Malcolm didn’t wish to tread those murky paths once more.
And Miss Leigh seemed just as inclined to simply remain in that moment. How many times had they passed quiet moments like this? Malcolm considered that and amended that thought, for even in those times when he’d been “Mr. Malcolm,” Miss Leigh had not gazed upon him thusly. However, conversation hadn’t needed to permeate every minute for the time to be meaningful.
But Malcolm couldn’t quite help himself when Molly’s assertions were ringing through his thoughts.
“So, we are courting, are we?” he asked with an arched brow.
Miss Leigh’s eyes widened, the softness in her gaze vanishing. “I never agreed to that, sir.”
Malcolm’s grin grew. “Ah, but when people mention it, you are not correcting them any longer. I heard it from a very reliable source, and everyone knows silence is an admission.”
“Society takes a denial as a confirmation, so there is little point in saying anything. It signifies nothing,” she replied in that tart tone of hers, but Malcolm’s heart snuggled into his chest at the clear signs of laughter in her gaze.
For all that he felt as though his soul might burst from the joy of it, Malcolm’s smile dropped away, his brow furrowing as he held her gaze. “As yours is the only opinion that matters, what does it signify to you, Miss Leigh?”
The gentleman behind him cleared his throat, and Malcolm silently cursed at the man, but when the pairs around them took the first hopping steps into the country dance, he was forced to relinquish his hold on Miss Leigh and step into place. Albeit a few beats behind the rest.
The dancers around him laughed and whooped, clapping their hands and throwing themselves into a controlled frenzy. Miss Leigh managed to step into the turn without a missed beat, weaving between the others and turning in place without taking her gaze from him. Despite Malcolm’s talent for dancing, he struggled to keep his feet in their proper place, for his attention was fixed on that dear lady.
When she chasséd around him, Miss Leigh leaned close to say, “I think we might have very fine weather tomorrow.”
She came to a stop across from him, and it was his turn to echo her steps and travel around her, but Malcolm couldn’t think what to say to that insipid comment.
“We’ve had quite fine weather of late,” he said. “Let us hope that we have some more of it before winter sets in.”
When he paused before her, he had only a moment to see her expression, and there was that saucy raise of her brow once more. Then they stepped forward, taking each other by the hand, and chasséd together down the line.
“I meant that it might be a good day for a drive,” she said.
“Perhaps. If there isn’t a nip in the air.”
Depositing her back in place, Malcolm paused across from her as the others in their set moved through their steps. And Miss Leigh stared at him, her eyelids lowered. Despite the chatter, laugher, and music filling the air around them, Malcolm swore he heard her sigh.
Then, drawing in a deep breath, she added in a monotone, “I am certain I would enjoy it, with or without a nip in the air,with the right companion.”
Malcolm stood there, staring at her. Despite understanding her clear and comprehensible English and having teased her about courting her just moments ago, he hadn’t quite expected it to be so easy a thing to get her to accept his suit.
One of the passing gentlemen elbowed Malcolm in the ribs and whispered, “She means you.”
“I am well aware of that, sir,” said Malcolm with a huff, but the gentleman merely scoffed in turn, shaking his head before turning his attention back to his partner.
The dance drew him and Miss Leigh together once more, and leaning closer so that no other busybodies might hear, Malcolm murmured, “Will you go on a drive—”
