Mr. Malcolm's List (16 page)

Fourteen

The
following morning passed in much the same manner, with Malcolm and Selina
politely ignoring each other.
 
Selina
returned to her room after luncheon to find a note had been delivered to her
room.
 
Selina told herself not to become
excited over nothing, although her first thought upon seeing the note was that
it was from Malcolm.
 
When she opened it,
she found it was an invitation from her hostess to tour the conservatory at two
o’clock.
 
Selina was to meet Lady
Kilbourne and the rest of the party there.

A servant
directed Selina to the conservatory and left her at the door.
 
When she opened the door to the conservatory
she was immediately hit with a gush of warm, scented air.
 
Selina looked around her in amazement at the
variety of exotic plants and trees, many of which were blooming, and most of
which she had never before seen.
 
She
began to walk slowly down the first aisle, before eventually ending up in the
middle of the conservatory, which had a high, pointed ceiling made of glass.

She had
begun a tour of that area as well, when she was startled by the sound of
someone clearing his throat.
 
Looking up,
she saw Malcolm standing by one of the stone benches that formed a circle in
the middle of the room.

“I
suppose I have you to thank for this,” he said, holding out a slip of paper.

“I beg
your pardon?” Selina said.

“If you
thought to entrap me by arranging a compromising situation, I must say I had
believed you a great deal cleverer than this.
 
If anyone found us alone together, it is hardly a situation that would
warrant a marriage proposal.
 
Or perhaps
you planned to throw yourself into my arms when given a signal by your
accomplice.
 
Who is it, by the way?
 
Julia?”

“I have
no idea what you are talking about,” Selina said.
 
“I received an invitation to meet at the
conservatory for a tour at two o’clock.
 
I assumed it to be a group tour.
 
I certainly did not plan on meeting you here.”

“And I
suppose it is a coincidence that I received a note as well.
 
However, mine did not mention anything as
innocuous as a tour.
 
Mine spouted some
nonsense about ‘a discussion that will promise great future benefit.’
 
It was quite gothic, now that I think on it.”

“Then I
am surprised you bothered to come,” Selina said.

Malcolm
shrugged.
 
“My curiosity was piqued.”

“Well, if
you are so frightened of my treacherous schemes, why don’t you just leave?”

“I will,”
Malcolm said, but made no move to do so.

“I am
glad to hear it.”

“Are you
remaining here?” he asked.

“No, I
shall leave as well,” Selina said.
 
“The
conservatory has lost some of its charm for me.”
 
She flounced off, walking back the way she
came, traversing the distance much more quickly than she had earlier.
 
She grasped the handle to open the door, and
it refused to open.
 
She pulled again,
but it still remained closed.

Malcolm
was standing directly behind her.
 
“Well?
 
Did you change your mind?”

Selina
pulled again, rather desperately, but the door still did not budge.
 
“The door appears to be stuck,” she
said.
 
“It must be the humidity.”

“Let me
try,” Malcolm said impatiently, reaching for the handle.
 
He, too, could not open the door.
 
“Well, it is certainly stuck, but I rather
doubt it is the humidity,” he said, turning to look at Selina, his arms folded
across his chest.

“What do
you think it could be?” she asked, before realizing he was accusing her again
of attempting to compromise him.
 
“You,
you arrogant, conceited coxcomb!
 
I would
rather marry the gardener!”

“I will
be sure to inform Thompson of your regard,” Malcolm said.

Selina
did not reply, but walked regally back to the stone benches and sat.

“What are
you doing?” Malcolm asked, following her.

“I am
waiting for whoever locked us in to return, and I’d rather do so sitting, if
you don’t mind.”

“Is there
a certain time they are scheduled to return?” Malcolm asked, dropping down onto
a bench opposite Selina.

“For the
last time, would you please rid yourself of any notion that I had something to
do with our predicament?
 
I do not enjoy
being forcibly confined, and I am getting rather tired of the experience.”

“I am
afraid I do not understand.
 
Have you
been incarcerated in the past for some crime you committed?”

 
“Of course not.
 
Julia locked me in her room the night of the
masquerade so that she could pose as me.
 
If I find she is behind this as well, I will not be so quick to forgive
her a second time.”

“I must
say, you do seem to have rather unfortunate taste in friends.”

“So I
have recently discovered,” Selina replied, with a significant glance at
Malcolm.

Her
remark seemed to have made a small dent in his reserve, for his face took on a
startled, conscious look which he quickly hid by coughing into his hand.
 
They both sat there quietly for a few
minutes, Malcolm casting several quizzical glances at Selina.
 

“Well, if
we are to be cooped up here for a while, we may as well converse.
 
So why don’t you tell me about yourself, Miss
Dalton.”

“I
believe you made a similar request at the beginning of our acquaintance, and I
told you such a blatant request was unlikely to be fulfilled.”

“Yes, I
remember.
 
No doubt you were trying to
conceal your background at the time.”

Selina
gave an exasperated sigh, and then began retelling the events of her life in a
sing-song fashion.
 
“I was born in
Chailey
,
Sussex
on March 28, 1796.
 
My father served as
vicar, and his living was supplied to him by a relation of his, Lord
Musgrove.
 
I had one younger brother,
Charles, who died from typhus fever when he was only three.
 
I attended Mrs. Finch’s Lady’s Academy from
the ages of twelve to seventeen, where I made the acquaintance of Julia
Thistlewaite.
 
At the age of eighteen, I
accepted a position serving as companion to Mrs. Ossory of
Bath
.
 
She died less than a year ago, at which time
I accepted an invitation from Julia to come to
London
.
 
While in
London
,
I made the acquaintance of a gentleman who invited me and my family to his
estate in
Kent
,
apparently for the sole purpose of tormenting me.”

Malcolm
continued to eye Selina suspiciously. “You sound as if you are repeating what
someone instructed you to say,” he said.

Selina
restrained herself from screaming in exasperation.
 
“I am done speaking with you,” she told
Malcolm.
 
“We can sit her in silence for
the next fortnight, for all I care.”

“I am
sure we will not be locked up in here a fortnight,” Malcolm said, but Selina
maintained her stony silence.

She was
not sure how long they sat that way—Malcolm casually sprawled on his
stone bench, Selina sitting upright and tensely upon hers—when she became
acutely aware of how very hot it was.
 
There were beads of sweat trickling down the back of her neck and back,
and her dress was sticking to her.
 
She
looked over at Malcolm, who also appeared to be suffering from the heat.
 
His cheeks were flushed and he, too, looked
to be perspiring.

“I had
determined not to remove any clothing, for fear of how that might be construed,
but I am afraid I must remove my jacket if I am to remain conscious,” Malcolm
said, breaking the long silence.
 
“Do I
have your permission?”

Selina
inclined her head slightly, determined not to break her vow of silence.
 
She watched as Malcolm shrugged out of his
tight-fitting jacket, and then his waistcoat, his linen shirt almost
transparent underneath, he was so wet from perspiration.
 
He removed his cravat as well, and she
watched in fascination as a trickle of sweat slowly traced a path down his neck
to finally disappear under his shirt collar.
 
She was suddenly hotter than ever, and raised her hands to begin fanning
herself.

He
appeared to be studying her with equal deliberation, and Selina looked down to
find that her thin muslin dress had become literally soaked with sweat.
 
She hoped it had also not become as
transparent as Malcolm’s shirt.
 
She
could not remove any clothing to make herself more comfortable, she was not
wearing a spencer but only a light dress, but she did remove her bonnet and
gloves, sighing with relief as she did so.

She was
surprised when Malcolm shot up from the bench across from her and began
pacing.
 
She thought it much too hot for
such exertion, although she watched him languorously, finding all of a sudden
that it was too hot for her to remain angry, as well.
 
She would rather think about how beautiful he
was, one dark lock having fallen across his forehead, his tall, lithe figure
displayed to advantage in his shirt and pantaloons.
 
He stopped pacing all of a sudden,
approaching her where she sat on her bench.

“You do
not look comfortable, Miss Dalton,” he said, his voice a little raspier than
usual.
 
He cleared his throat.
 
“Are you suffering from the heat, perchance?”

Selina
forgot her vow of silence.
 
“It is most
dreadfully hot,” she whispered.

“There is
a fountain about here somewhere,” he told her.
 
“Perhaps if we were to rest our feet in the water it would have a
cooling effect on the rest of our—that is, it would cool us down.”

 
Selina nodded, and followed him to another
part of the conservatory, where a shallow granite fountain bubbled
noisily.
 
It was a large, circular
fountain, and was the centerpiece of the room in which they found
themselves.
 
Selina felt that she had
never seen such a beautiful sight, and wished for Malcolm to be gone so she
could bathe more than just her feet.
 
However, he was not, so she set on the edge of the fountain and removed
her shoes.
 
She turned to find that he
was doing the same, but wondered how she was to remove her stockings with him
present.
 
He finished his endeavors and
noticed her looking at him.

“I will
turn my back so you can feel free to remove your stockings,” he told her,
turning away.
 
She quickly removed her
stockings and called out to him when she had finished.
 
He had rolled his pantaloons up to his knees
and Selina hurriedly looked away from the sight.
 
There was something altogether too intimate
about their being alone together with bare feet and legs.
 
She turned back to the fountain, pulling her
dress up around her knees and stepping in, before sitting down on the narrow
ledge.

The water
was not as cold as Selina might like, but it felt like heaven to her overheated
skin.
 
Malcolm must have felt similarly,
because he let out an ecstatic, “Ahhh.”

Selina
reached down tentatively with one hand and rubbed some of the water on her bare
arms.
 
She was surprised when Malcolm
appeared suddenly at her side, holding a wet handkerchief.

“If I
may,” he said, holding it toward her.
 
She nodded, and he placed the handkerchief on her face, tenderly wiping
it.

“That
feels wonderful,” Selina said, her eyes closed.
 
She opened them quickly when the handkerchief traveled down her
neck.
 
Malcolm stopped, his hand resting
at the base of her throat, and they sat like that for a moment, which seemed
like an eternity,
 
looking at each other,
their breathing almost as loud as the fountain.
 
Then somehow they were in each other’s arms.

Selina
could not remember later how it happened; if he were the one to make the first
motion toward her or if she were the one to throw herself upon his chest.
 
It was too hot, too hazy to think clearly,
and she only knew that she was right where she wanted to be.
 
She wasn’t sure either how they ended up in
the water.
 
She thought in the beginning
they were both sitting on the edge of the fountain, their feet still in the
water, but at some point she found herself submerged in the shallow water, with
Malcolm beside her, passionately kissing her.