Page 58 of Rival to Resist
“What?”
“This is your idea of delicate handling, then? Remove not just the prospect of marriage from Oswald’s mind but my patronage too? I might have known your plan would involve transferring my votes to you.”
“You misunderstand me,” he said, “though I would certainly not object if that plan did appeal to you. I only meant that perhaps Oswald’s entitled view of you would change if he did not think himself owedboththings. If he believes there is no risk of losing what he wants most, he has no incentive to act in good faith. If, however, he senses that you are not entirely…resolved in your loyalties, he may take greater care.”
“You suggest I manipulate him?”
“I suggest you stop allowing him to manipulateyou.”
They were harsh words, perhaps—a pickaxe, even—but he respected her too much to protect her from what he saw: that Oswald viewed her as some sort of property.
He continued more gently. “You should not have to barteryourself for this schoolhouse, Lady Radcliffe. There must be alternatives.”
She tugged at one glove, looking pensive. “And where doyoucome into this plan?”
Frederick smiled, but his heart skipped a few beats. “As the reason he might finally realize that your votes—and your heart—are not his by right.”
14
CAROLINE
Caroline’s head came up slowly until her gaze met Mr. Yorke’s. Was he truly implying what she thought he was?
“Do you mean I shouldcourtyou?” she asked incredulously, her heart skipping at the fleeting visions the word conjured.
“I am merely offering my services,” he said with a bow.
“A purely charitable endeavor,” she said with dry amusement.
“You doubt it?”
“Of course I do! How convenient that your suggestions tohelp me”—she raised a brow—“involve getting under Oswald’s skin.”
“Personally, I find it more convenient that they allow me time in your company.”
Heat prickled at the base of her neck.
“I would offer even if I did not enjoy the prospect of gaining your goodwill—even if only pretended—but can something not be both charitable and convenient?”
She broke her gaze from his and looked ahead, wishingshe was more skilled at deciphering what parts of Mr. Yorke she could trust. “I hardly think a sudden courtship between us would serve my purposes. It is still more pickaxe than anything.”
“It need not be formal courtship,” he argued. “A mere softening toward me—admitting me into your friendship—would suffice.”
Caroline pulled up on the reins and regarded him, for they had reached the path that led back to Trevenna. One part of her whispered a warning—he is using you—while the other berated her for judging him so harshly. Since their interaction at the inn, she had wondered if she had been too quick to condemn him and too harsh in that condemnation.
Most bothersome of all, shewantedto agree to Mr. Yorke’s ridiculous idea. In his company, she felt alive, as if she were standing at the edge of a cliff, knowing full well the danger that lay below but unable to persuade herself from it.
But her footing was far from steady.
“There is no need for me to involve you in such matters,” Caroline said. “It was unwise of me to speak of it, and I beg you will forget I did so.”
There was a flicker of disappointment in Mr. Yorke’s expression. “Very well. You must do as you see fit, but however you regard me, Iamyour friend. And I am here to help in whatever way I can.”
Caroline inclined her head with a polite smile, then turned her horse onto the path toward Trevenna, annoyed to find her anger with Oswald eclipsed by her thoughts of Mr. Yorke.
He had featured heavily in her thoughts of late—particularly since they had danced at Trevenna and raced at the beach. She could not think on the moments in the inn with her hand on his face and his eyes on hers without a flush creepinginto her cheeks.
Her disappointment and embarrassment had run deep when she realized that everything she had witnessed that day had been part of his strategy—hence her angry and abrupt departure.
