“I am a little tired, I suppose. It has all been so…” She realised that Anthea’s grin was far too knowing. “The whole election has been much more than I expected.”
“Yes. I can see that.” Anthea tapped her finger against her own small glass of sherry. “How would it be if there were a matter which required your urgent attention?”
Selina’s heart sank. She was very nearly at the limit of her forbearance as it was. “How urgent?”
Anthea’s eyes flicked up towards the ceiling, just for a second. “I suppose it might keep, if it had to, but in your shoes, I would not want to leave it long.” She leaned closer. “Lord Louis’s valet is a very diligent man. I saw him leave a moment ago with the duke’s ruined clothes in a basket. He is going to find a tailor to rustle up something more appropriate for His Grace than an innkeeper’s Sunday wear.”
“Anthea…”
“The innkeeper is quite a large man,” she continued mercilessly. “I do hope he provided the duke with a belt to keep his trousers up. If I were His Grace, of course, I wouldn’t bother putting on such ill-fitting clothes. I would be tempted to lounge around completely deshabillé.”
“Anthea!” Selina’s hands clenched in her skirts, knuckles turning white. “I can only imagine you think I will find this type of talk instructive. I assure you, the lesson is not needed.”
“Not instructive, exactly. Tempting, perhaps?” Anthea dropped her teasing grin. “Selina, the duke is upstairs. Alone. I will make excuses for you if I need to.”
Selina did not move. A line of concern formed between Anthea’s brows. She took the seat beside Selina and laid her hand on the fist Selina had made of her own. “I am sorry for teasing. It’s only that you may not have another chance to talk to him. Not in the way I suspect you want to.”
“I shouldn’t.” Selina swallowed, avoiding Anthea’s eyes. “I can’t abandon our guests.”
“I am a woman grown and married, in case you had not noticed, and I am perfectly capable of hosting a dinner. I outrank you, in any case. I’m the foremost lady in the room – for now.” Anthea hesitated a moment, her hand warm on Selina’s. “Nobody will notice your absence. I will see to it.” Her voice dropped to a low murmur. “What I was going to say to you in the Hall – you will always know that he…”
“I know it already.” Selina relaxed her hand and unfurled her fingers. “I knew it before.”
Anthea held her eyes for a moment, then got to her feet and turned to intercept an approaching voter with a dazzling smile. “Mr Howard! Yes, a shocking turn of events indeed! I could not agree more – it will all make an excellent column.”
Selina smoothed out her skirts and reminded herself to breathe.
Anthea’s encouragement was kind, but unnecessary. There weren’t many lines of proper behaviour left for Selina to cross with Malcolm, after all. And as for the few that did remain, well…
By the time Anthea glanced back over her shoulder, the quiet corner was empty.
19
“Come in.”
The door swung open under Selina’s hesitant touch, balanced more delicately than its iron-barred oak suggested, and revealed Malcolm standing naked to the waist, a pair of ill-fitting trousers belted on below, and a ruminative expression on his face as he ran a hand over his already-rough jawline in the mirror. He held a towel in one hand, and his hair was rumpled as though he’d just finished rubbing it dry. His back was to her, nothing between her and the taut lines of muscle but air. A line of dampness the towel had missed glistened from one shoulder to the nape of his neck, caught in a light sprinkling of hair darker and coarser than the golden tousle on his head.
Malcolm caught her frozen stare in the mirror and his eyebrows rose in cool surprise. “Ah. Thought you were the valet.”
He tossed the towel onto a chair but made no move to dress. He turned to face her, hands resting easily on his hips as though it were perfectly natural to be half-unclothed in front of a lady. “If you’re coming in, you had better do it quickly and shut the door behind you.”
She did, and turned the key in the lock, too, before she had a chance to think about it. Malcolm’s eyebrows rose again. She was half-expecting an impudent remark, but he said nothing.
“I’m sorry,” she said, blurting it out thirty seconds too late and much too fast. “I should not have disturbed you. I…”
“I’m glad you did.” He lowered his eyes momentarily, a world of troubled thoughts passing across his brow. “I won’t be joining the celebrations. Whatever it is exactly that they’re celebrating. I haven’t the heart for it.”
“You lost an old friend today.” She wondered whether she might soothe that furrowed brow if she could only navigate the endless stretch of space between the door, where she stood with one hand still on the key, and Malcolm.
He nodded, slowly, as though it had only just occurred to him. “Yes. But I think I truly lost Roddy when I first heard him bribing the voters. And I should have been rid of him long before then.” He rolled his shoulders, easing out the long-held tension. “It’s not the only thing I didn’t realise until it was too late. Well, almost too late. A void election’s better than a rotten one.”
“Ten miles.” Selina stopped to moisten her lips. “Lord Louis said you ran ten miles to reach Twynham in time.”
“Ha! It was five. Though it’ll be fifty before the night’s through, knowing him.”
“Through the rain.”
He shrugged. “It didn’t bother me as much as it would have done letting the election go ahead.”
“That was noble of you, Malcolm.”
“Ha.” His mouth twisted ruefully. “You’re wrong, and Louis’s wrong. I didn’t do it because I’m noble. I’m no more
