Page 29 of Rival to Resist
“That is a wretched exaggeration, Mr. Yorke,” Eliza said, “for I know very well how little pleasure there is in the task. I am indebted to you.”
“Nonsense,” Mr. Yorke replied kindly.
“It is not nonsense. Indeed, I mentioned your kind efforts to Captain Rathmore last night in my letter.”
“Allow me to frank it for you,” Caroline offered. She still had a large stack of franked paper from Richard, and she was eager to encourage the correspondence.
The more she had considered the figure of Captain Rathmore, the more she had begun to harbor a hope that he might become a more prominent figure in her friend’s life. Themostprominent. Eliza deserved companionship and care, and this gentleman was the one man showing an interest in such a thing, not to mention the high regard in which she held him.
Eliza accepted Caroline’s offer with gratitude and fetched the letter from the small table in the corner while Caroline and Mr. Yorke looked at one another, she attempting to see through him to what his intentions were, and he…perhaps trying to see whether his efforts were meeting with success.
No doubt he would stay for teaandjoin Caroline on the ride home, determined to gain her support.
“I shall leave you to your guest, Mrs. Penrose,” he finally said. “Thank you for the leeks.”
“Mrs. Tonkin knows how to prepare them just right,” Eliza replied. “Thank you again, Mr. Yorke.”
He bowed to her, then turned to Caroline and bowed again. “Good day, your ladyship.”
“Good day, Mr. Yorke.”
She watched him until the door closed, wishing she could summon the same annoyance she had felt upon arriving rather than the reluctant gratitude she now felt.
He might be playing with only pawns, but with this move, the victory had been his.
8
FREDERICK
Frederick rolled his sore shoulders as he reached the cobbled road leading into the village. Three days in a row spent carrying the buckets from the stream to Mrs. Penrose’s had shown him just how hardy a woman she was.
If Frederick hadn’t disliked Oswald before—which, to be quite clear, hehad—the last few days had given him ample cause. Why the man couldn’t put in a simple gate for his tenant was beyond him. It was not as if Oswald would be doing the work himself—he would hire someone else to do it, of course—undoubtedly someone who wished for the work.
Instead, Frederick was traipsing to the cottage each day when he had other things to tend to. He had only gone the other day to invite Mrs. Penrose to the party. When he had seen her hefting more buckets, however, he could no more have failed to offer his help than he could have walked past a drowning man.
Mrs. Penrose had grown in affection for him as a result, and since she had the ear of Lady Radcliffe, he hoped his efforts would not just help the widow but servehim well too.
The gate would be a welcome thing despite that, however.
He looked out over the beach that Trelowen’s small harbor boasted. It was strewn with a few dingy boats, even more fishing nets, and several of the men who worked them—men Frederick hoped would attend the party on Saturday.
He opened the door to the inn and removed his hat as he stepped inside. Voices reached him from the taproom, and he stopped short at the familiarity of one.
“I had hoped you would be willing to bake a few dozen of your fairings for my campaign celebration at Trevenna on Saturday,” Oswald said.
Frederick leaned in, for Mrs. Tonkin had already agreed to make them for Frederick’s party—in fact, they had been advertising that anyone who came would enjoy her famous fairings and ale.
“Myfairin’s, sir?” Mrs. Tonkin repeated with surprise.
“Yes,” Oswald replied. “Lady Radcliffe quite enjoys them, and I would like to surprise her with them.”
Frederick suppressed a scoff—and a feeling of annoyance.Hehad been the one to introduce Lady Radcliffe to Mrs. Tonkin’s fairings, and now Oswald intended to use them to get into her ladyship’s good graces.
“’Tis kind of ’ee, sir,” Mrs. Tonkin said, though there was hesitation in her voice.
Would she tell him she had already promised the same for his opponent’s campaign announcement? Or would she lie to avoid the consequences? Mrs. Tonkin was not the sort to bow to pressure or hold her tongue—but, then again, Oswaldwasher landlord.
“Very good,” Oswald said. “I shall send someone to retrieve them Saturday morning. Shall we say ten o’clock?”
