“I hope you are correct.”
“If you trust me with anything, Malcolm, you can trust me with this.She’ll be your wife.”She looked over at him, laughing.“God knows why—you’re unpleasant enough company.I hope she is prepared for your sour morning moods and morose silences.”
He grinned.“Come.We must return to Parkhorne,” he said.“If my proposal is to be declined, I’d rather know now.”
“Youaredramatic.”
He rolled his eyes, and they rode back to Parkhorne.
He had one more errand in the house before he went to find Scarlett.
He reached the little drawing room that he sought without encountering anyone.He supposed those who had not braved church were still abed.But he knew that Mrs.Salisbury would have gone to church with her guests, no matter what, and that by now she should be back.
And he was correct.She was sitting there, in her private sitting room, where she could always be found at this hour.
“Malcolm,” she said with a smile.
She was nursing a cup of tea and looked quite tranquil.
“Mrs.Salisbury.”
“Eleanora,” she corrected, as she always did.
He nodded, as he always did.“May I speak to you for a moment?”
“Of course.”She cast a searching look over his face.“Are you well?”
“Yes, I am well.And everything is right with the farm.We have everything set for the rest of the house party.”
He didn’t want to give her alarm on that account.
“Of course it is,” she said, smiling kindly.“You would never let it go wrong.I would thank you more, Malcolm, only I know you hate it.We wouldn’t have been able to do this infernal party without you.”
She was right—he did hate when she thanked him—but he was surprised to hear her call the party infernal.
“I hope it has all gone well,” he said awkwardly.“From your perspective.”
“As a hostess, I would say the party could not have gone better.As a mother, it has left something to be desired.”
He was confused by her statement.He understood that Mrs.Salisbury had wanted to help George select a wife and select a wife he seemingly had done.
“Is—are you unhappy with George’s choice?”
Mrs.Salisbury pursed her lips.“Miss Tilly Perkins is the loveliest young lady in England.But I am not sure she is right for George.”She looked out the window of her room, as if lost in thought for a moment.“Daniella thinks I am being too fastidious and that it is George’s choice.And so it is.And yet, I cannot help but feel that he is making a mistake.But he seems resolute upon it.Nor can I object from a worldly perspective.”
“Have you tried speaking with him on the matter?”
“Yes.But it is not a subject on which a young man often wants to listen to his mother.Especially when she is saying things that, for whatever reason, he doesn’t want to hear.”She took a sip of her tea.“And I fear that I have failed on another account as well.I hoped one of the girls might catch your fancy, dear.But it seems to have all been for naught.”
He smiled.“Well, I wouldn’t despair.”
“Oh, really?”she exclaimed.“But you seemed so indifferent to her!”
Malcolm cringed.He knew he could be taciturn, but he had not thought he appearedindifferent.
“Ah, well, I am going to state my intentions this morning.”
Her hands went to her mouth.“Oh, she will be delighted!She has such a flamingtendrefor you.She has told me herself.”
