“They don’t know me,” Frederick said, half-amused, half-incensed.
“They don’t like genteel folk.”
“Oswald is genteel.”
“Aye, sir.” She cocked a brow significantly.
“At least they are consistent, I suppose,” he said doubtfully.
Mrs. Tonkin made a noncommittal noise. “I do think ’ee could convince ’em to come if ’ee were brave enough.”
Frederick regarded her warily. “Brave.”
“Aye, brave,” she snapped. “’Appen ’ee’ve ’eard the word?”
Frederick snatched the nearest rag and threw it toward her.
She deflected it with a hand and a mischievous grin.
“If you’ve finished attacking my character,” Frederick said, “perhaps you would care to explain what type of bravery is required of me in order to persuade these people to attend.”
“Well,” Mrs. Tonkin said, “’ee need to speak with Tom Tregenza. ’E be the one whose opinion matters, for all the other fishermen do follow what ’e says.”
Frederick frowned. To his knowledge, he had never seen Mr. Tregenza, but in his mind’s eye, he imagined a tall, burly man with a beard and a few teeth lost to brawling. “And where can I find this formidable man?”
“Where do ’ee think, sir?” she said incredulously. “’E be a fisherman.”
He shot her an unamused glance. “I meant which boat belongs to him?”
“The biggest one, sir. It be blue—or it was at one time.”
Frederick nodded. “And what do you recommend I say to him?”
She laughed, her bosom rising and falling with her shoulders. “Lord bless ’ee, sir! Do ’ee expect me to doallthe work for ’ee? Oh”—she straightened suddenly—“I nearly forgot. A letter came for ’ee.” She reached across the counter and picked it up.
Frederick stood and went over to take it. He immediatelyrecognized his brother William’s neat script. He broke the wax with the Duke of Rockwood’s seal pressed firmly into it, then unfurled the letter.
His gaze raked over William’s script, assuring him that everyone was well and anxious for news of Frederick.
I spoke with Brightmoor the other day and learned from him that there is a candidate there who is poised to win. If it would be of help, Clara has insisted she is well enough for me to take the journey to Cornwall and lend my aid in your campaign.
Frederick reread the sentence, his heartbeat quickening, for he knew what it meant. A visit from William might well tip the scales in his favor. Few landowners in the county would care to set themselves at odds with a duke—including Oswald. The money William would be able to offer was another factor that nearly made Frederick salivate.
For Saturday’s party, he was already spending a large portion of the money he had saved—just how much only time would tell. Something told him Trelowen’s villagers would be able to drink an ocean’s worth of ale when it was at Frederick’s expense.
To accept William’s aid could be the thing to turn the tide, as Mrs. Tonkin had said. And this was a king tide. William would undoubtedly be able to offer Oswald something he valued as much as a seat in the Commons.
As for Lady Radcliffe, evenshe,with her stubborn dislike of politicians, was unlikely to be proof against William’s powers of persuasion. He could offer her promises for Trelowen that precious Oswald could not manage with twenty years in the Commons.
In short, William was offering Frederick everything he needed and wanted. He was offering victory.
But it would be William’s victory, not Frederick’s.
Lady Radcliffe might bow to a duke’s pressure and power, but what would she think of Frederick?
She would disdain him, and he could not blame her for it, particularly after he had told her that he would not accept any help from William. Frederick might emerge with a seat in the Commons and anMPbeside his signature, but deep down, he would disdainhimself. He would wonder whether he could have managed it on his own, whether he was capable of standing on his own two legs or only with assistance from William.
He let out a breath and folded up the letter, then slid it into his coat, hoping he would not look back on this as the moment he had let his one true chance slip through his fingers.
