Page 52 of Rival to Resist
FREDERICK
“Don’t know what ’ee were thinkin’,” Mrs. Tonkin said as she gathered up her things. “Challengin’ Jago at wrasslin’.”
“I was doing what you instructed me to do,” he replied. “Courting the approval of the village.” He put a few fingers to the poultice, only for her to smack it away.
“Leave it be, sir,” she commanded as Lady Radcliffe reappeared.
Frederick’s pulse hummed at the sight of her.
Mrs. Tonkin took note of her return and picked up the poultice bowl. “I’ll be off to clean this. See to it he don’t take it off, m’lady.”
Lady Radcliffe nodded, but there was a sharpness in her eyes as she watched Mrs. Tonkin go, then turned them on Frederick.
Her smile was brittle. “I understand you have declared your intent to support reform.”
Frederick frowned, watching herwarily. “Have I?”
She nodded, still smiling in that unsettling way. “I heard two villagers speaking of it just now. A quick change of heart after our conversation at Trevenna today.”
He said nothing for a moment. “I never told them I supported reform, Lady Radcliffe.” His conscience squirmed, however, for he had phrased his response to their question so that they might believe it if they wished.
“But you let them think it.”
He said nothing, unable to counter the accusation.
“Bravo.” Her smile sharpened. “Yet another stirring performance from you.”
His brows drew together. “It was not performance.”
“Oh?Doyou support reform, then?”
He opened his mouth, but no answer came. He had never truly considered reform before now. He had dismissed it, as most did. Lady Radcliffe’s support of it and the things the villagers had said had begun to make him wonder if…but he could not truthfully say that he was a proponent of it.
“And what of this party?” She gestured toward the beach. “Is this not all spectacle as well? Your way to prove to me that you care about the future of Trelowen when all you truly care for is your own?”
Frederick wanted to respond, to defend himself, but he couldn’t. There was too much truth in her accusations.
She gave a soft but caustic laugh. “As I said. A stirring performance.” She took her skirts in hand and walked toward the door.
He followed behind, panic and frustration mingling in his chest. He must look ridiculous with the poultice on his brow, but he did not care. “I am not the villain you insist on believing me, my lady.”
She stopped in front of the door, her form rigid. Finally, sheopened it and turned just enough to meet his gaze, her own cool. “Nor are you the hero you would have everyone think you.” She swept through the door and pulled it shut with a resoundingthunk.
Frederick stared at the closed door, his jaw tight, his throat thick.
He had told her he could not have borne her pity.
Well, now, he knew the taste of her contempt, and it was a bitter cup indeed.
Frederick’s body was still screaming at him for rest, but he went to Mrs. Penrose’s all the same. His body might wish for a respite from labor, but his mind required distraction.
He had not been able to put Lady Radcliffe’s words from his mind since the other night.
Nor are you the hero you would have everyone believe you.
She thought him despicable—changing his tune, adapting his behavior to suit his selfish whims.
Perhaps she was right. Hehadallowed the villagers to think him a supporter of reform because he had wanted their approval. He had told himself that, if he won the election, he would have time to help them see the error of their views. It seemed a convenient but selfish excuse now. As for the party, he had held that to gain the favor of the village, but only so he could prove himself to Lady Radcliffe.
