“You may not!” Sir Roderick’s command would have been more impressive if he had less of a wheeze, but he did his best. “There is no proof – no evidence –”
Malcolm leaped down from the table, landing squarely in Sir Roderick’s path. “The proof is my word, Roddy,” he said. He stared into the older man’s eyes for an instant of pure tension, then shrugged and turned to the Returning Officer. “I am the Duke of Caversham, and I say this election has been illegally bought. And I ought to know, since it was my man who bought it.”
He handed over the list of names. An expectant hush fell over the room. Even the two gentlemen aiming punches slackened their efforts and hung gasping from their friends’ sturdy arms, gazing up at the Returning Officer as he peered at the paper.
“Your Grace –” he began.
“How do we know he’s the duke?” a rough voice demanded from the crowd. “He’s come running in off the street – he could be anyone!”
“Go,” Selina whispered to Mr Forrester. He stopped long enough to squeeze his wife’s hand before pushing forwards to reach the dais.
“I know this man,” he said. “This is the Duke of Caversham, indeed. I’ll stake my name to it.”
“You would, Forrester! We all know you were about to lose!”
“Roddy?” Malcolm turned to his one-time friend. There was silence.
Selina saw the movement of Malcolm’s lips. It was impossible to hear what he said, from that distance, but it looked like, Must you be entirely disgraced?
Sir Roderick’s face was sucked-lemon sour. “This is the duke,” he said. “I’ve known him since he was a boy.”
Malcolm bent down and offered a hand to Mr Forrester, pulling him up onto the dais. He kept hold of the hand while Mr Forrester found his feet and shook it firmly.
“I must beg your pardon, sir,” he said, loud enough for the whole room to hear, “for using such underhanded tactics against you. May I take this opportunity to wish you every success in your future career. I am certain that it will be magnificent.”
As he let go of Mr Forrester’s hand, his eyes found Selina.
It only lasted a moment, but it happened. The duke vanished, leaving an exhausted man in his place. The ashes of doused fire darkened his eyes. She felt the chill of the rain dripping from him as though it were running down her own neck.
There was no way to embrace a man with only a gaze across a crowded room. Selina tried, all the same. Her heart was burning and frozen, pounding and still, overflowing and empty at the same time.
Malcolm straightened his shoulders and turned back to the Returning Officer as a cacophony of protests and cheers erupted around him. “Sir, you must see that Sir Roderick does not have the votes.”
“That appears to be the case,” said the officer. Triumph flared in Malcolm’s eyes, and he seized Mr Forrester by the shoulder. “That is, if your claims are true.”
“If?” Malcolm all but choked on the word. “If? Are you accusing a peer of the realm of lying?”
“With all due respect, Your Grace, you have but moments ago confessed to buying an election. I am afraid it is not in my power to dismiss voters from the register without a proper investigation.”
“He can’t,” Selina whispered. Her fingers dug into Anthea’s arm, jolting her busy pencil so that it left a long dark streak across her notepaper. “He can’t let it stand. Not now.”
Anthea looked at her sister, winced, and slipped her notes back into her reticule. She took Selina’s hand and tucked it into her arm. “Whatever happens next,” she said quietly, “you can be sure of one thing –”
“What is in my power is to declare the election void,” announced the Returning Officer. “Under these circumstances, it would not be proper to accept any votes at all. An investigation must take place to ensure all the registered voters are eligible. The Twynham seat remains vacant.”
The room was so silent that Selina could hear her own heart beating. The Returning Officer blinked, astonished to find himself the centre of such rapt attention, and pushed his spectacles up his nose. “That is my final decision,” he said, in more muted tones.
The uproar that broke out was a thousand times louder than the racket which Anthea had taken for a riot. One half of the room was cheering, another half shouting at the tops of their lungs. The two men who had been restrained from fisticuffs finally broke free and descended on each other in a frenzy.
Malcolm’s loud “Ha!” of triumph sounded above it all. He flung his arm about Mr Forrester’s shoulders and said something that Selina could not hear. Mr Forrester, as flushed as though he had already won, was fielding a crowd of well-wishers who swarmed up to shake his hand and slap him on the back.
Sir Roderick was bellowing at the Returning Officer, red-faced, but the constable who had been watching the drama unfold from a prudent distance recovered his sense of duty enough to put a stop to that. Sir Roderick was last seen being firmly escorted out the back of the Town Hall, casting one despairing glance back at Malcolm as he went.
Selina stayed where she was, letting the tide of impassioned men flow around her, as Malcolm and Mr Forrester descended the dais with their arms about each other’s shoulders. They made their way slowly back towards her and the other ladies, hampered by well-wishers and protestors alike.
Just before he reached her, a shiver passed through Malcolm’s body. It was hardly perceptible. Only someone unable to tear her eyes from him would have seen it.
Mr Forrester must have felt it, however, and his grip around Malcolm’s shoulders shifted. The duke leaned against him. Again, not enough for someone to notice. Just enough to give a dog-tired man the strength to move.
Now that he
