Page 23 of Rival to Resist
Frederick scoffed lightly. “A mystery? What in the world do you mean by that?”
“I mean”—she tossed the mackerel in the barrel of finished ones—“that the man who owns it—Prowse, I think ’e be called—don’t live there, so ’e never votes. I never saw ’im in me life. Some say ’e be in the army; others say ’e be so well-to-do, ’e doesn’t care for a wee bit of land in Cornwall.”
Frederick frowned. That meant that Lady Radcliffe controlled half the votes and Oswald effectively controlled the other half.
“So ’ee see, sir, that all is not lost.”
“What I see, Mrs. Tonkin, is that you are strangely optimistic. Even if I could secure Lady Radcliffe’s votes—which would mean convincing her to vote against her friend—without this Prowse fellow, it would be a split vote. That is no victory.” He frowned. “Howissuch a tie broken here?”
“Drawin’ lots, per’aps?” Mrs. Tonkin suggested.
“Drawing lots?” Frederick repeated incredulously. “That is madness!”
Mrs. Tonkin grinned. “’Ee be in Cornwall, sir. ’Ere, man’s fortunes do tip on the edge of a coin.”
Frederick shook his head in disbelief. He could not imagine leaving his future to a coin toss or to a paper pulled out of a hat. “Well, whether it is drawing lots or a duel at dawn, it is irrelevant. Once the writ for the by-election arrives, Lady Radcliffe shall be hosting a gathering to celebrate Oswald’s candidacy at Trevenna. If that is not the nail in the coffin on her support, I do not know what is.”
“Oh, sir! ’Eedobe dramatic. Oswald ’as her blinded, to be sure. But the good Lord do say the blind may see again, don’t ’ee?”
“By a miracle,” Frederick said dryly.
“Then ’ave a bit of faith! If they be throwin’ a party, throw one of yer own.”
Frederick laughed. “A party for whom? Myself and the mackerels?”
“Don’t ’ee go sneerin’ at the fish, sir. Without them, we do starve.”
“Forgive me,” he put a hand on the bucket of dead fish. “I warmly invite you all to my party and would be delighted to have you in attendance.”
Mrs. Tonkin gave a soft smack to his hand. “’Ee be teasin’, but I be serious, sir. Lady Radcliffe, fine lady though she be, do care for us workin’ folk. If ’ee can win us over, per’aps she’ll see the light.”
Frederick’s brow knit tightly. The strategy seemed questionable at best—win over the village and hope Lady Radcliffe cared enough for their opinions to shift her allegiance to him?
But it was the only strategy he had.
“And how would I win over a borough of people who do not know me—and who likely view me as…”
“A London peacock what’s lost its flock?”
Frederick failed to suppress a smile. “Yes, thank you for that.”
Mrs. Tonkin took up the next mackerel. Its wide, glassy eyes seemed to stare at Frederick as though in shock that he was actually considering such tomfoolery.
“Listen to they, sir,” Mrs. Tonkin said. “Listen to their trials and wishes, and they’ll like ’ee. Let the polished and powdered folk gather at Trevenna while ’ee gain the support of Trelowen.”
Lady Radcliffe’s argument against Frederick from the beginning had been that he was unfamiliar with Trelowen, where Oswald wasintimatelyfamiliar with it. If Frederickproved her wrong, what, then, would be her reason for refusing to consider his candidacy?
“And where would I hold such a gathering?” he asked. “At The Silver Pilchard?”
“Oh, no, sir,” she replied, shaking her head quickly. “Mr. Oswald would be furious. I be a tenant of ’is.”
“Is this one of his burgages?” Frederick asked.
“Aye, sir. I do ’ave to take care not to appear too supportive of ’ee.”
“That will be difficult, given how strongly you have taken a liking to me,” he teased.
She gave a snort. “Hold the party on the beach, sir. Provide food and drink and a bit o’ fun for the village. They don’t need fine speeches, sir. They need a laugh and a listenin’ ear. If ’ee promise those, ’ee’ll ’ave no trouble fillin’ the beach.”
