Frederick’s stomach clenched. He had been certain Oswald would have dispelled any assumption that he was still part of the election. He had said, after all, that a copy of the paper detailing his ineligibility had been sent to Hannaford.
With expectant faces all turned toward him, Frederick cleared his throat and reluctantly strode up to the table, where Mr. Hannaford had opened his mouth to continue.
He stopped at the sight of Frederick, looking annoyed to have a second interruption in such a short time.
The crowd watched as Frederick walked around the table, avoiding the eye of Oswald, and came to a stop in front of Hannaford.
“There seems to have been a miscommunication, sir,” Frederick said in a low voice. “It was made known to me that I am not, in fact, eligible to stand for election, lacking the required £300 in property.” Despite his efforts, his eyes flicked to Oswald, who was watching them with intent curiosity.
“Sir,” Mr. Hannaford said as one dealing with a matter of no small aggravation, “I hesitate to contradict you, but I have just been given this”—he showed the papers Caroline’s steward had given him—“which states that you are, in fact, eligible.”
25
FREDERICK
Frederick frowned and put a hand out for it.
The crowd’s silence had turned to a whispering buzz, but he ignored it, his focus on the papers.
The first in the small stack was a Memorandum of Bargain and Sale, granting unto him a twenty-two-acre parcel of land. Behind was a Certified Extract of Freehold Title, attesting that Lady Caroline Radcliffe had the legal right to the land mentioned. The third paper was a valuation of the land in addition to the land Frederick held, which, together, came to a total of £332.
Heart thumping, Frederick looked up at Caroline.
Her eyes were on him, intent.
But Frederick did not understand. They had been over this. Oswald did not require her votes to win.
Furthermore, Frederick had refused Will’s gift of land. Why would she assume a gift from her would be different?
“May I have a moment to confer with Lady Radcliffe, sir?” Frederick asked.
The man’s lips pressed together tightly. “I can afford youfive minutes. Then the election must proceed, with or without you.”
Frederick nodded, his eyes fixed on Caroline, who seemed to understand and came to meet him in one of few spaces in the yard not saturated with people.
“What is this?” he asked in a low voice.
She was still slightly breathless. “I had hoped to come to you before the election and explain, but it took longer than I had hoped to get everything in order.”
“But what need is there for it? You know I cannot accept it—nor would it do any good if I did.”
“It will, though, Frederick. Icannotvote for Oswald.”
“He will win despite that.”
“Yes, but at least my conscience will be clear. At least I will be able to cast my votes for a man deserving of them.”
Frederick’s eyes searched hers.
“I have no wish for you to do something which offendsyourconscience,” she said, “and you are under no obligation to accept the land. But Frederick”—she looked at him with warmth and pleading in her eyes—“do we not intend to merge our lives? Shall we not soon marry and share land and money and a bed?”
Her words sent a shock of anticipation and heat through him.
“You wished for a way to prove to me the genuineness of your affection. Will you not let me do the same?”
Frederick’s heart hammered. He understood what she was asking. In the same way his conscience had balked at accepting land from William, hers balked at standing aside or voting for Oswald.
The corner of her mouth lifted. “Unless you trulyarea rake and have no intention of marrying me…”
