William reached into his coat and, just as Oswald had, he pulled out a paper. “The fault with the clerical error lies with me?—”
“It does not?—”
“—and I mean to rectify it.” William leaned forward and held out the paper.
Frederick’s gaze remained fixed on his brother for a moment, then he took the paper, his heart beating more quickly. With a small, fortifying breath, he unfolded it. His eyes ran over the script at the top.
It was a deed.
“It should more than cover the difference in property value,” William said.
Frederick stared at the paper, his heart thumping more forcefully with every second. The value of the land was £263. Added to the value of the land on the deed Oswald had brought…it was substantial. It nearly doubled his property.
In his hand was the solution to his problems, the key that would unlock his goals and dreams. To know that Caroline loved and wanted him as he was—a near-portionless fourth son—was more valuable than any plot of land, fame, or title. But it did not erase Frederick’s desire to make something of himself. To deserve her.
With this deed and Caroline’s votes, he could win. He could make a difference for the people of Trelowen. For Caroline. For himself.
A vision of coming home to Caroline after giving a speechin Parliament glittered before him, in reach. Everything he had ever wanted.
No.More. So much more.
His gaze flitted to the signature on the deed. It was William’s. William’s signature. William’s land.
Frederick swallowed, then shifted his hand until his ring came into view.
He folded up the paper while William looked at him searchingly.
“I cannot thank you enough, Will,” Frederick said. “That you would come all this way…” He shook his head. “It means more than I can express.”
“But…”
“But I cannot accept this.” He held out the paper.
William slowly accepted it, frowning. “Why not?”
Frederick took a moment before responding. “I promised myself I would make my own way. My own legacy. If I accept that from you, it will not feel as though it is fully mine.”
William’s thumb tapped the folded paper pensively, his eyes soft, almost admiring as he watched Frederick. “Cornwall has changed you.”
Frederick gave a soft chuckle. “You have no notion…”
“What shall you do, then?”
Frederick lifted his shoulders. “I shall hit upon something. What of you? Will you return to Rushlake?”
He shook his head. “Clara and the baby are staying with Anthony and Charlotte.” He looked around. “I came all this way. I may as well see what Cornwall has to offer. Not to mention meeting this Lady Radcliffe of yours….If she has taken a liking to you, there is bound to be something the matter with her.”
Frederick grinned. “She is perfection, Will.”
A muffled voice sounded in the corridor, and his brow pursed deeply.
It was William’s turn to grin. “Ah. Yes.” He stood. “I meant to tell you…I did not come alone. She has been resting after the journey.”
Frederick stared at him incredulously, for there was no mistaking the voice. “You broughtAunt Eugenia?”
William stopped at the door, trying and failing to suppress a smile. “I am but a duke, Freddie. I cannot hope to compete with Aunt Eugenia’s persuasive powers, which I thought might come in handy. Besides, when she discovered my intent, she insisted she has always wanted to see Cornwall.” He opened the door, and Frederick went over to join him, refusing to believe his aunt was in Trelowen without seeing it with his own eyes.
She was speaking with Mrs. Tonkin in the corridor, but she turned at the sound of the door opening.
