“Yes.”
The answer came readily, but more than the certainty in her tone, it was the brightness of her eyes and the broadness of her smile that told Malcolm how much she truly meant that single word.
He remained where he was until one of the other gentlemen nudged him along, and he recalled just what he was supposed to be doing. He spied Miss Leigh hiding a snicker behind her hand as she managed to stay in time with the others in the line. When her gaze met his once more, the laughter in it reached out for him, pleading for him to join along—but as appealing as that was, Malcolm couldn’t help but feel trapped in this ridiculous situation.
Surely such a moment deserved something more momentous. Weeks of worry and frustration had culminated in this perfect moment, and Malcolm longed to do something more than merely dance. At the very least, a man ought to be able to hold his woman’s hand, and the brief moments of contact the dance allowed were not sufficient.
He wanted to sweep her away from this place. To spend the evening wrapped in her company and affection. To start this new chapter in their lives with something more significant than the polite displays allowed in such gatherings.
But that was when Malcolm met Miss Leigh’s gaze. The sight of her eyes smiling at him settled his heart in place once more, flooding his soul with a peace he’d never known. Miss Leigh shone with a new light, something beyond her usual loveliness, and it filled him with such pleasure not only because he had the privilege of witnessing it, but because some part of that beautiful heart belonged to him.
Malcolm was a greedy man and wanted much more, but this would do for now.
*
Rosanna Leigh had many shortcomings, but thankfully, hypocrisy had never been counted amongst them. It was one thing to fall short of high expectations, but to judge another by a standard you could never achieve was wrong. What was good for the goose was good for the gander. Or in this case, what was good for the gander surely was good for the goose.
Hadn’t she lectured Mr. Tate on how time would’ve sorted out his concerns about her earnestness? That he needn’t have resorted to such extreme measures when patience was all that was needed? How could she then dismiss him as unsuitable without actually testing it out? She needn’t rush off and marry him this very moment, and neither ought she to condemn him as being unchangeable and detrimental to her own growth without testing that theory.
If Mr. Tate was a poor match for her, Rosanna would discover it one way or another.
And whatever doubts she may have had about this course of action fled the moment Mr. Tate looked at her. Such a proud and powerful man, yet anyone with eyes could see how much she mattered to him. Whatever came of this moment, Rosanna could not regret embracing the possibility. Wasn’t trying and testing the relationship the entire point of courtship?
Fears, doubts, and questions all faded into the background, and she threw herself into the moment. Mr. Tate followed the steps that took him around her, and the gentleman dared to wink at her as he passed, which set Rosanna blushing once more as she ducked her face and laughed.
Gazes all turned in their direction, but she ignored them, not allowing the world outside to taint this moment. For now, it was just her and Mr. Tate, enjoying a lively dance.
Her Mr. Tate.
She didn’t fight the smile that stretched across her face at that thought, and the lightness of her heart added an extra bounce to her step as the set drew to a close. When she straightened from her final curtsy, Rosanna didn’t bother to ask before slipping her arm through his, as was her right to do as his sweetheart.
No doubt, every eye in the room marked the movement, and Mama was likely in raptures at this very moment, but the only reaction she noted was Mr. Tate’s. His brows rose for the briefest moment before he drew his free hand up to rest it atop hers.
“Perhaps I might steal you away for a few moments before your next partner comes to claim his dance,” said Mr. Tate.
Rosanna’s cheeks blazed at that, and though her heart shuddered at the thought of admitting her vulnerability, the truth would come out one way or the other. “I do not have a partner for this set.”
Mr. Tate’s brows rose. “Pardon? The amazing Miss Rosanna Leigh has an unclaimed set?”
Forcing him along the edge of the gathering, she raised her chin and said in a prim tone, “I may have been saving it for someone special.”
“Two sets in a row?” he asked, a laugh rife in his tone.
Rosanna allowed just one more moment of fluster to keep her silent, but in the interest of honesty, she offered him some of her own vulnerable truth. “I didn’t know what would come of this night, but I hoped for something good.”
“And I am honored to be worthy of that hope,” he murmured. Then, glancing at the dancers as they began to take their places, Mr. Tate nodded at their path. “Would you mind terribly if we took a turn about the room, rather than dance?”
“I thought you enjoyed dancing.”
“I do—even more so when you are my partner.”
Her heart skipped a beat at that admission, but it stopped altogether when he added, “However, I would much rather have a moment to talk with you.”
He slanted a glance at her and, with a chagrined smile, said, “I have missed our conversations.”
Throat clamped tight, Rosanna struggled to keep her eyes from pricking with tears. Such a small, simple statement, yet it meant more than any number of the flowery declarations she’d received throughout her life.
This was no man seeking out a pretty lady to hang on his arm. This was a man who valued her company.
