Mr. Malcolm's List

Bedtime, girls.

Julia Thistlewaite, Selina Dalton, that means you too.

Be quiet!

Come along now, young ladies. Do not dawdle.

Now, it's right together.

Left together. And repeat.

Keeping your head in books all day

will not create the marriageable mind.

I have nothing materially to offer a husband anyway.

And I have no loving father to make me a match.

A right pair we make.

Oh, Selina, I'm in agony over our parting.

You must promise to write to me every week.

I promise. Will you write to me every week as well?

I will try, but I cannot guarantee a regular correspondence.

Once I'm out in society, I will be far too busy.

And you really think I can visit you in London one day?

Of course.

After I've fallen in love

and made myself a proper match,

then I shall find you a husband.

We will always look out for one another, dear Selina.

Candles out, girls!

Oh, Selina, do not be such a namby-pamby.

Good morning.

Oh, Miss. Quite the beauty.

Now, which headdress?

Mmm...

the feathers.

The biggest catch of the season in the year of our Lord 1818

was the Honorable Jeremy Malcolm.

'Twas true he had no title of his own

and was only a younger son of an earl,

but his maternal aunt had left him the bulk of her sizable fortune

and a large country estate in Kent.

I heard he was out with Emilia James last.

But tonight, I heard Julia Thistlewaite.

Mr. Malcolm was searching for a bride.

But not just any bride.

And he wouldn't be seduced by fine eyes or a flirtatious smile.

It's Mr. Malcolm.

Twenty thousand a year.

He had no interest in social climbers or fortune hunters.

Mr. Malcolm was a kind man who possessed an outward reserve

that concealed a warm heart,

a heart he was eager to bestow upon the appropriate young lady.

In fact, he had set upon a unique way of pursuing true love

that was beginning to earn him quite the reputation.

It's Julia Thistlewaite.

Julia Thistlewaite with Mr. Malcolm.

It would be the match of the season.

Hasn't she been out in society for, what, four seasons?

It may be time to think about stepping aside

and allowing the younger ladies have their chance.

He gave up his seat for me once.

I nearly swooned.

I do wonder why they make so many foreign operas.

We are in England, after all.

Do you not agree, Mr. Malcolm?

Are you not a fan of Rossini, Miss Thistlewaite?

Is he the short, stout man?

No, no. He's the composer.

Oh.

How silly of me.

You must think me quite ignorant.

No, not at all.

Perhaps you are better informed on other matters.

Tell me, what opinion do you hold on the Corn Laws?

- The Corn Laws? - Yes.

Uh, let me think.

The Corn Laws.

Why, I am for them, of course.

- Really? - Mmm.

And why is that, if I may ask?

Well, I-- I believe that, um...

restraint in one's diet is bound to have a healthful effect.

It's a pity you're not able to speak on the parliamentary floor.

Your... views could change the face of politics.

Or its figure, at any rate.

Do you see he is yawning?

How embarrassing.

Slow down!

You have a caller. Again.

But I am not accepting callers.

Well, I know that. But try telling that to someone

who thinks he knows more than the whole of England.

Oh, Mama.

Hmm.

Ah.

Mr. Woodbury.

So kind of you to call. And so frequently, too.

Miss Dalton.

My father is out visiting the parish's sick,

as he does every Tuesday.

I do not believe it would be improper to dispense

with his chaperonage this once, Miss Dalton.

I was emboldened to approach you

knowing that with the recent unfortunate demise of your employer,

you have been cast into this world without fortune or prospects.

I realize that I may be your senior by, well, a few years,

but I have always felt that a woman would benefit

from a more mature companion,

one who can give her guidance in life.

Like a father, you mean?

You jest, Miss Dalton.

Or, um... Selina, if I may be so bold.

You must know how ardently I admire you

and how...

It is my fondest desire to have you-- as my wife.

I am greatly honored by your offer, but I cannot accept.

Oh.

Oh.

Do not be so hasty, Miss Dalton.

'Tis common knowledge your father is of modest means,

and you are but one of his many offspring.

I am prepared to assist them if you wed me.

But if you refuse, well, your prospects will be very grim, indeed.

Hmm.

Well, it is true that my family situation weighs heavily on me,

but I still must refuse your kind offer.

I find such an attitude incomprehensible.

I must warn you, this offer will not be extended a second time.

Third actually.

I understand and fully accept

the consequences of my decision.

And now,

I must beg you to please excuse me.

I...

Goodbye, Mr. Woodbury.

Out of my way, idiot geese.

Morning, John!

Oh.

Have you heard Lord Christopher Jones

has finally found a suitable match?

Do you not want to know who he has chosen to marry?

I doubt I have any choice in the matter.

A Miss Marjorie Notcutt.

Mmm. Fascinating.

Is that from Selina, my dear? Yes.

She writes so often I can barely keep up.

Oh, dear. Mr. Woodbury has proposed again.

I have noticed Mr. Malcolm doesn't appear to be calling.

I do have more than one gentleman caller.

You must not feel too bad you have failed to capture his notice.

Some say he will never choose a wife.

I feel perfectly fine.

Mmm.

There is something from Lady Burke.

She's sent me one of those wicked caricatures

that are all the rage.

It appears to be of Mr. Malcolm.

And I am in it as well.

No.

It can't be.

Oh, Julia.

Did you hear about Mr. Malcolm? - No.

Well, he turned away Miss Thistlewaite.

Come inside!

Quickly!

Never been inside here before. It's cozy.

Is this all of them?

- All the ones for sale. - They're here in the window.

- I don't understand. - Miss Thistlewaite.

- How embarrassing. - Oh, my!

Do you have a pencil?

How mortifying.

Her reputation must be in tatters.

Cassie, please discover what I did to incur this humiliation.

Take this to my cousin. You will find him at his club.

The Lord of Limbs.

Immediately!

I am ruined.

She'll never find a husband, I think.

Steady.

Refreshment, sir?

Thank you.

Good evening, sir.

Goodness. I shall come here more often.

Good evening. Good to see you.

- Did you hear... - Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen.

Final bet, Cassidy?

Yes. Final or nothing.

Your turn, madam.

Good sport as always, milord. You, you're a cheat.

Absolute cheat. Cheers.

Ooh, that's strong.

Oh, God.

Who else has seen this?

Tell Miss Thistlewaite I will handle the matter.

Mr. Malcolm.

Excuse me.

My dance card at the Millers' ball next week has a free space,

if you would be so inclined.

You will have to forgive me.

A riding ailment does not permit me, Miss...

Lady Gwyneth Amberton.

Lady Amberton.

Daughter of Earl and Countess Amberton.

Of course.

How strange.