Now that he was alone, his thoughts became blissfully clear. Yes, he would win Selina. She was the key to everything – the Twynham election, his respect in the House of Lords, the future of the dukedom. Selina, the perfect duchess. He’d been right from the start. She would secure him the power he had always craved.
That explained why he’d spent the carriage ride back to London feeling that his heart was being torn from his chest. Why he’d been so compelled to spill to her what no one else in the world knew about his father, the accident, the rain. Why he still, even now, felt the touch of her hand on his arm as clearly as though she were still beside him.
You are not cold now, she’d told him. In that, they’d both been mistaken. But it didn’t matter.
He would be the second Lion Duke, and Selina his Lioness. Nothing else would satisfy him now.
15
At the last of the rallies in Twynham, Selina arrived late enough that the crowds were already beginning to dissipate after Mr Forrester’s speech.
At least, that was what she thought had happened, as she stepped down from her carriage and Mrs Forrester ran to greet her with eyes full of worry.
“My lady! I am so glad you came. Can your aunt truly spare you? I was so distressed to hear of her fall.”
“My aunt is recovering very well,” said Selina, clasping Mrs Forrester’s hand. “But I am sorry to have arrived in such poor time. I thought I would at least be able to hear your husband speak.”
Mrs Forrester shook her head, her lips pinching together. “He has not yet spoken, my lady. He will begin at any moment.”
Selina looked about at the paltry crowd in confusion. “But there must be some mistake! There were twice the number of gentlemen attending the last speech he gave. Where are all the Twynham voters?”
Mrs Forrester was naturally a sweet-tempered woman, not inclined to speak ill of others. So her cheeks turned pink with embarrassment as she whispered, “I think they will not come, my lady. They have all been bought by…” She clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “No! I should not say.”
“I know the man you mean.” Selina kept her face perfectly calm, for Mrs Forrester’s sake, as well as for her own pride.
It hurt her to think of Malcolm stooping to bribery. She would not have believed it possible, if not for the proof of his own actions since he left Lady Aldershot’s. He had not denounced Sir Roderick. He had not even withdrawn his support. And, one by one, Mr Forrester’s supporters had slowly fallen away. If she were generous, she would put it down to their natural instinct to obey the mighty duke. But she was not feeling generous where Malcolm was concerned. She no longer knew what deception he was capable of.
Now there was no more pleasure left in their competition, no more thrill of the fight. Mr Forrester would lose, because he was not the duke’s man. As so many elections had been lost before.
And Malcolm, who had every quality necessary to become someone truly wonderful, would squander his potential for the sake of one more vote in the Commons.
“There he is now,” whispered Mrs Forrester, nodding subtly to the enormous black and gold town coach that was rolling into the square. “Come to see that his bought men are staying away, as he commanded, and to gloat over his triumph. I am not a violent woman, my lady, but I declare, when I see that man I will be tempted to – to – to give him a piece of my mind!”
Selina put her arm around the angry little woman and guided her to the front of the crowd, such as it was. “We will not think of him,” she said firmly. “He does not deserve it. And when it comes to telling dukes how they ought to behave, I have a great deal more practice than you. If the duke deigns to descend from his carriage, you must leave him to me.” She glanced back over her shoulder, just once, to see that the carriage doors remained closed.
How she wished she hated him.
Mr Forrester, practised in the art of public speaking, gave no hint of his disappointment in the tiny gathering. He spoke fluently, setting out his aims for the borough with a passion that could not fail to inspire confidence, and roused the listeners to a few ragged cheers.
Selina lingered as long as she could after the speech was done, speaking with the voters and the public alike, and smiling as broadly as she had when it had seemed they might have a chance of winning.
Malcolm’s carriage cast its long shadow into the square. Still, he did not descend.
She had arranged a dinner at Twynham’s finest establishment for those voters who still cared to attend. At least the paucity of guests meant that the spread would appear yet more lavish than even she had intended. She crossed the square on Mrs Forrester’s arm, Mr Forrester taking up the rear and chatting cheerfully to a couple of stout gentlemen of Twynham. Mr Griggs surprised them all by making an appearance at the dining room door. Judging by the way he rubbed his round stomach in anticipation, it was the lure of the food that enticed him, rather than any hope of winning his vote.
As the gentlemen were standing around with their pre-prandial drinks in hand, the mood finally began to lighten. The windows did not overlook the square where Malcolm’s carriage stood, reminding everyone of his inevitable victory. Selina began to breathe more easily.
A serving girl approached her, bobbed a nervous curtsey, and stumbled a little over her words. “Excuse me, my lady, but there is a gentleman here who wishes to speak
