“No.” She looked out at the water. “Quite the contrary.”
Frederick willed his heart to beat steadily. “You mean you have decidednotto?”
It was a moment before she met his gaze again, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “That is whatquite the contrarymeans, does it not?”
A laugh escaped him, borne of relief—that she wasnot, in fact, to be married, and that her anger had ebbed enough to tease him. “You might consider informinghimof this development.”
The amusement died out like embers under a jug of water. She looked away again. “It is a delicate situation.”
Frederick’s mouth pulled up at one side. “Because Oswald is a delicate creature?”
The flatlook was repeated.
“What?” Frederick argued, unable to repress a grin. “A man who has the gall to speak of a wedding date with the vicar before he has secured the bride does not deserve careful handling.”
“Perhaps not,” she replied. “But had I been more decisive, all of this might have been avoided. Instead, I allowed time for a seed to take root.”
“Allow me to pull it out by those same roots,” Frederick said. “I shall happily do so.”
She took the reins and guided her increasingly impatient horse to begin walking—away from Frederick.
He gave Flint a kick and came up alongside her. “What?”
“I tell you the situation is delicate, and your suggestion is to take a pickaxe to it?”
Frederick shrugged. “Treat it with too much delicacy, and Oswald will never receive the message you wish him to receive. You must be forthright.”
She looked troubled as she stared ahead. “I need his support,” she said curtly.
Frederick watched her, wearing a frown of his own. “I thought it was he who was in need of yours.”
“We are in mutual need. My schoolhouse requires both his land and support.”
Frederick considered this. “And you fear that, if you tell him you do not mean to marry him, he will refuse to provide you with it?”
Her lack of response was answer enough.
A man who was obliged to hold something over a woman’s head in order for her to agree to marry him was a pathetic figure indeed.
He held his tongue rather than expressing as much. “Very well. The seed has taken root. So…you must ensure it withers away.”
She glanced at him, a laugh in her eyes. “And what precisely does that look like, pray?”
Frederick shrugged. “Imight be of assistance.”
“With your pickaxe?” she said dryly.
“No. Withanotheridea you shan’t like.”
“I am sure you are right. But do expound, all the same.”
Frederick’s heart thunked against his chest. “At the moment, Oswald is laboring under the assumption that he has everything he wishes for from you—your votesandyour hand.”
She peered at him warily. “And?”
“And,” Frederick said slowly, “perhaps he would benefit from the prospect of losing both.”
She laughed and shook her head.
