Mr. Malcolm's List (6 page)

Julia sat up, throwing her legs over the side of the
bed.
 
“Well, how was it?”

“It was quite pleasant.”

“I am sure it was,” Julia said. “Mr. Ossory seems like a
pleasant young man.”

“He is,” Selina agreed, crossing her arms over her
chest.
 
She wondered what new
Machiavellian scheme was circulating under Julia’s pretty curls.

“He is not interested in you, is he?”

“Interested in me?” Selina asked.

“Romantically, I mean.”

“Of course not.”

Julia sighed in relief.
 

“He is only interested in marrying me because his aunt
thought it would be a good idea,” Selina said.

“What?
 
He cannot
marry you!
 
This will destroy all my
plans.
 
How will Malcolm fall in love
with you if you become engaged to someone else?”

“That would make it difficult,” Selina agreed.

“You are enjoying this!” Julia said accusingly.

“Oh, Julia, don’t worry.
 
I have no intention of becoming engaged to Mr. Ossory.”
 
Julia relaxed and began to smile.
 
“Right away,” Selina added.

“So you do plan on becoming engaged to him eventually?”

Selina grew serious.
 
“I am not sure.
 
I like Mr.
Ossory, don’t you?”

Julia became quite interested in examining her nails.
 
“I already said I found him pleasant,” she
said.

“He is extremely pleasant.
 
And his aunt wanted us to make a match.
 
I don’t know,” Selina said.
 
“Everything is so complicated.”

“It
is
complicated,” Julia said.
 
“And it is all
Malcolm’s fault.”

Selina rolled her eyes at Julia’s propensity for finding
fault with Malcolm but she could not disagree.
 
Life would not be half so complicated were it not for Mr. Malcolm.

Five

Selina heard a knock on her door just as she was putting the
finishing touches on her toilette.
 
Before she had a chance to say anything the door opened and Julia rushed
into the room.

Julia was dressed for the ball in an aquamarine colored ball
gown with a translucent silver overdress.
 
Diamonds glittered around her neck and at her ears.
 
Selina thought she looked like a princess
from a fairy tale.

“Julia, you look beautiful,” Selina told her.

Julia looked pleased at the compliment.
 
“Thank you.
 
You look very nice as well, but I thought you may want to borrow these
for the evening,” she said, gesturing to the box in her hand.
 
She opened it, displaying a ruby necklace and
earrings.
 

“They are magnificent,” Selina said.
 
“But I could not borrow something so
valuable.”

“Nonsense,” Julia said, removing the necklace from the box
and putting it around Selina’s neck.
 
“Your neck looks quite bare without it.”

Selina had to admit this was true.
 
She had been quite shocked when she first
came to town and realized it was the fashion to wear ball gowns with a much
lower neckline than she was accustomed to.
 
She loved her bronze ball gown, but there was no denying that the
necklace succeeded in covering a great deal of exposed flesh.
 

“Well, if you are sure,” Selina said, looking at her
reflection in the mirror with pleasure.
 
She hardly recognized herself.
 
Julia’s maid had arranged her hair in a braided coronet at the top of
her head with a few tendrils escaping to lie against the nape of her neck.
 
The bronze dress seemed to bring out the fire
of her hair and skin, and the ruby necklace added to the richness of her
ensemble.

“Thank you, Julia,” she said.
 
Every now and again her spoiled school friend
surprised her with a sweet gesture.

“’Tis nothing,” Julia replied.
 
“We cannot have Malcolm finding fault with
your appearance.”

“No, of course not,” Selina said, and sighed.

Selina was surprised at how pleased she was to see Cassie
that evening.
 
He was escorting them to
Lady Hartley’s ball, and she had not seen him since he escorted them to her
first ball, two evenings ago.
 
She felt
like she could relax in his undemanding presence.

Until he
stepped on her foot while helping her from the carriage.

Selina
cried out in pain while Cassie apologized profusely, Julia castigated him for
being a clumsy dolt, and Mrs. Thistlewaite fluttered about helplessly, saying
“Oh, my.”

“It is
fine,” Selina hissed through clenched teeth, realizing their party was
attracting attention from the other guests.
 
“If I could just have your arm, Cassie.”
 

Selina
walked as gracefully as she could to the receiving line, trying to put all of
her weight on her uninjured foot.
 
As
they waited their turn to greet their hostess she was thankful that her long
dress hid the fact she was only standing on one foot.

Once they
were through the receiving line she sank gratefully into a chair on the edge of
the ball room.
 
She and Julia were
immediately besieged by gentlemen begging them for the first dance, a
quadrille.
 
Selina was in a
quandary.
 
If she refused any of the
gentlemen she would be unable to dance the rest of the evening, but she felt
that she had to rest her foot before the next dance with Mr. Malcolm.

Cassie
came to her rescue.
 
“Miss Dalton has
promised to sit out this dance with me,” he told the other gentlemen.
 

“Thank
you, Cassie,” she whispered, gently wiggling her foot back and forth.
 
She had to be able to dance with Mr. Malcolm;
she’d looked forward to it all afternoon.
 
She thought if she just rested her foot through the first set she would
be able to manage the waltz.

Mr. Malcolm approached her as the quadrille was ending and
her stomach gave a queer little flip when she saw him.
 
“This is my dance, I believe,” he said.

“Yes, it is,” she said, rising from her seat and placing her
hand on his arm.

 
“May I say how
beautiful you look this evening, Miss Dalton,” he said, as he led her to the
dance floor.

“Yes, you may,” Selina said, smiling mischievously at him.

Mr. Malcolm looked surprised at first but then he smiled
back.
 
“You are looking extraordinarily
beautiful this evening,” he said.
 
“There
is not a lovelier woman in the room.”

“Thank you,” Selina said, blushing.
 
“But I was only joking.”

“I know you were, but I was not,” he said, and kissed the
back of her hand before placing it on his shoulder.

The music started and Malcolm swept her into the movements
of the dance.
 
For the first few minutes
Selina forgot about her injured foot so caught up was she in the sensation of
having Malcolm’s arms around her and his face only inches from her own.
 
But the more they danced the more her foot
began to throb until she began to hop lightly whenever the steps of the dance
required her to put weight on her injured foot.
 

“Is something the matter?” Malcolm asked her, obviously
wondering what had happened to the graceful woman he’d been dancing with only
moments before.
 
Selina realized she
could not continue bobbing up and down like a bird, and thought perhaps if she
allowed Malcolm to carry more of her weight she would be in less pain.
 
So the hand that had been resting lightly on
his shoulder began clutching him tightly, and the few inches between their
chests disappeared as Selina began clinging to Malcolm like a limpet.

Malcolm felt like someone might who had been having a
wonderful dream that had turned suddenly into a nightmare.
 
One moment he was enjoying a romantic waltz
with the most beautiful lady in the room, and the next he found himself
intercepting shocked glances from members of the
ton
while whirling the
same woman around in a position that would be more acceptable in a boudoir than
a ball room.
 
Something had to be done,
and quickly, so Malcolm half-danced, half-dragged Selina through the nearest
doorway.
 
They found themselves in a
small, dark room, and Malcolm released Selina immediately.

“I don’t quite understand.
 
Is something the matter?” he asked her again.

“I’m so sorry, Malcolm,” Selina said, taking a step toward
him.
 
This proved to be a mistake, as she
had stepped forward on her poor, abused foot, which refused to hold her a
moment longer.
 
She started to fall, and
with a startled cry she reached out and grabbed Malcolm.

Malcolm once again found himself with Selina thrust against
his chest but this time he didn’t stop to ask why.
 
There was one shaft of light from the
half-opened door that lit Selina as she stood encircled in his arms.
 
She was looking up at him, her eyes shining
like jewels, her lips just inches away from his.
 
She was breathing rapidly, her body warm
against his, her
décolleté
evening gown displaying her exquisite charms
to his fascinated gaze.
 
He leaned
closer, intent on closing the space between their lips, when he heard her say,
“My foot.”

“What?” he said, drawing back a little.

Selina looked a little dazed.
 
“Cassie stepped on my foot.”

“Cassie stepped on your foot,” he repeated, and could not
believe this was the sort of conversation he was engaged in while holding a
beautiful woman in his arms.

“But I was so looking forward to our waltz, that I thought
if I skipped the quadrille I would be all right.”

“I see,” Malcolm said, and smiled.

“You do?”

“I do, indeed.”
 
They
stood there, smiling at each other, Selina still propped against Malcolm’s
chest.
 
“How does your foot feel now?” he
asked her, his head beginning to again lower towards hers.

“I don’t feel a thing,” she said, before any further speech
was made impossible when Malcolm covered her mouth with his own.

Malcolm’s lips had just brushed Selina’s when the door to
the room was thrown open.
 
They sprang
guiltily apart, although Malcolm remembered to support Selina with his
arm.
 
They both stood there, blinking as
their eyes tried to adjust to the sudden light, and Malcolm
 
recognized Julia standing there before the
door was just as suddenly closed.

“Was that Miss Dalton and Mr. Malcolm?” Malcolm heard a
gentleman’s voice ask.

“No, of course not.
 
That was Lord and Lady Athingamabotmy,” Julia said.

“Pardon?”

“It does not matter who it was, they obviously wished for
privacy.”

“I thought you said Miss Dalton was in that room,” the
gentleman said, whose voice Malcolm was beginning to recognize as belonging to
Henry Ossory.
 
“She promised me the next
dance.”

The voices started to fade as the couple walked away and
Malcolm attempted to pull Selina back into the circle of his arms.
 
“Sir,” she protested.
 
“I think we should return to the ballroom.”

“That woman has wretched timing,” Malcolm told Selina.

Selina smiled tremulously.
 
“The worst,” she agreed.

“Are you sure you want to return to the ballroom?” Malcolm
asked, encouraged by that smile.
 
He was
acutely aware of his own desires, and they had nothing at all to do with
returning to the ballroom.

“It would be the proper thing to do,” Selina said.

“That it would, Lady Athingamabotmy,” Malcolm said,
assisting Selina to the door.
 
He was
probably holding her a little closer than was strictly necessary but Selina did
not complain.
 
He paused in the doorway
and Selina looked up at him.
 
She was
leaning against him, her arm under his, and he bent down to say in a lowered
voice, “Propriety can be the very devil sometimes.”

A very improper tingle formed in Selina’s stomach at his
intimate tone and she was forced to concur.

Malcolm led Selina to a chair then left her to fetch some
punch.
 
While he was gone she was
approached by Julia and Mr. Ossory.

“Good evening, Miss Dalton.
 
You are looking quite splendid this evening,” Mr. Ossory told Selina.

“Thank you, Mr. Ossory.”

“I have come to claim my dance with you.”

Before Selina could reply, Julia intervened.
 
“She has hurt her foot and is not dancing
this evening.”

“But she just danced with Mr. Malcolm,” Mr. Ossory
protested.

“Exactly.
 
That is how
she hurt her foot,” Julia lied.

“Then I shall sit this one out with her,” Mr. Ossory said to
Julia, his pleasant smile beginning to look a little strained.

Julia saw Malcolm approaching them with a glass of punch in
his hand, and turning to Mr. Ossory, said in a loud voice, “Why, thank you, Mr.
Ossory, I would love to dance with you.”

“What?
 
But, I
didn’t—”

“Sir, there is no need to insist.
 
I already told you I would be pleased to
dance with you,” Julia said, as Malcolm handed Selina her drink.
 
Julia dragged a bewildered Mr. Ossory, still
protesting, onto the dance floor.

Mr. Malcolm looked at Selina and smiled.
 
“Perhaps her timing is not so wretched after
all,” he said.