Matilda gasped and quickly excused herself.
When she was gone, Lizzie struck him in the chest playfully. “Ye are awful,” she said with a giggle.
“Awful, but truthful.” His eyes held hers and heat pooled in her stomach. Whenever he looked at her with such intensity, she felt like she could drown in those beautiful eyes of his.
“For certain, Matilda has run off to her circle of friends and is telling them all about us.”
“I have no regrets.”
With intermission finished, the curtains pulled open, and the second half of the play began. They sat in silence, watching the conclusion unfold in front of them. All the while, Malcolm held her hand and she couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky she was.
Earl or nay, Malcolm was a special man, and he’d chosen her. And that made her ridiculously happy.
“Me neither.”
Later that night, after she’d retired to her room, she practically felt as if she were floating. So happy was she, she couldn’t stop the squeal that burst from her mouth.
When she’d bid Malcolm a good night, he was once again speaking with her papa in the study. They talked of subjects she found most uninteresting—accounts, estates, business. The conversation made Lizzie’s eyes glaze over, so she excused herself and let them continue.
A knock sounded and Mary poked her head inside the room.
“Come in!” Lizzie exclaimed excitedly, patting the bed beside her.
“Miss, ye are the talk of the estate. I am no’ surprised in the least.” She looked towards the closed door. “No’ only because of the kisses I saw ye both stealing, but ye and the earl’s eyes gave it away e’ery time each of ye looked at each other.”
“I can hardly believe Papa agreed.”
“Pfft. Why wouldna he? Lord Kennedy is an earl. Ye will be a lady, miss.”
Lizzie squealed again. “We have no’ discussed marriage, and no proposal has been made. ’Tis just a courtship right now.”
“Och, ’tis plain to see. A proposal will most certainly be forthcoming.”
Did she even dare to wish for it? She didn’t want to hope for something that might not come to fruition, but oh, she wanted it to be so. More than she was willing to admit.
“Let’s get ye ready for bed. After your trip to the theater, ye and the earl will be the talk of the city.”
She sighed. It had been some time since the Barclay name had been the talk of society. Not since the death of her brother those years ago. At least this time the interest was for good news.
Well, Matilda may say otherwise, but Lizzie paid her no attention. Though they were acquainted through etiquette school, they had never spent any time together outside of that. Matilda held herself in way too high regard for Lizzie’s liking.
But none of that mattered.
Matilda’s attitude and personality promised that she would grow old alone. Unless her parents married her off. Because right now, Matilda had no prospects, and her countenance guaranteed that none would be forthcoming with the exception of her parents coming into a large sum of money. They were not poor by any means, but Lizzie was sure her dowry was modest at best.
She didn’t want to think about Matilda. Instead, her thoughts shifted to Malcolm and a smile broke out on her face. She couldn’t help it.
“Ye will be mistress of Culzean Castle, Miss. How exciting is that?”
“Mary! Dinna say such things.” Her cheeks heated at the thought. She’d never run a household afore. The mere thought made her break out in a cold sweat. Would she be up to the job? Of course, she’d seen her mother run Tolton Hall like a well-oiled engine. But it was something completely different when she thought of having to do the same thing herself. And for a castle, no less.
“Och, dinna fash about it now, Miss. Ye will have plenty of time for such things in the future when the time arises. For now, ye just need to concentrate on the here and now.”
Lizzie dropped back on the bed, sinking into the soft mattress. “I wonder what the morrow will bring. For certain, Malcolm willna leave for Culzean right away.” Or would he? She worried her bottom lip.
Mary pulled the drapes shut over the windows, blocking out the moonlit sky.
“I dinna think he will, Miss. I have a feeling that he will be spending a fair amount of time in Stonehaven.” She patted the chair in front of the vanity. “Come sit and I’ll brush your hair before bed. Ye need your rest for the morrow. I’ve a feeling ’twill be a busy one and ye want to look your best.”
Mary was right. The last thing she wanted when she faced everything tomorrow was her eyes puffy with lack of sleep.
After her hair was brushed to a shine, Mary ordered her under the covers. And as she drifted off to sleep, visions of Malcolm’s handsome face flooded her mind. She burrowed into the blankets, a smile on her face. Life couldn’t possibly get better than this, she thought before falling asleep.
How very wrong she had been.
