“I wasn’t aware that you had Twynham in your pocket, Your Grace.”
“It’s half in,” he said. “And, it seems, half in yours.”
“There is nothing in my pocket at all. I don’t agree with buying and selling votes, as though the fate of the country were worth nothing more than a bribe. I particularly disagree with the notion that a powerful man can become yet more powerful simply by installing an obedient friend in the House of Commons.” She met his eyes impassively. “No offence intended.”
“Naturally.” She had meant to offend him, of course. Malcolm was caught between amusement and irritation. “But if the very concept of a pocket borough offends your honour, I fail to see why you are interested in the election at all. What do you have to gain by interfering?”
A flicker of annoyance broke her impassive gaze as she took note of that word – interfering. She recovered so smoothly that only a very careful observer would have noticed that Malcolm had landed a blow. Luckily for Malcolm, he was watching her carefully indeed.
Selina went on, speaking more crisply than before. “I have decided to support a man with a fine mind and a bright future, that’s all. My candidate, Mr Forrester, was born in Twynham. He is determined to represent the borough well.”
“Really! Martin Forrester – the lawyer?”
“The finest young legal mind in England, as some call him.”
“And you would set him against Sir Roderick March, who hails from one of England’s oldest families?”
“Why shouldn’t I? Mr Forrester has made a name for himself through talent and hard work. From the first time I heard him speak – his lectures on social reform are very popular, by the way, and I’m sure you would benefit from hearing one – I knew he deserved my patronage. Sir Roderick has achieved nothing, as far as I can see, except a rather lucrative friendship with you.”
“Careful.” It was as though she knew exactly how to set his hackles rising. “Sir Roderick was my father’s dearest friend.”
“And hasn’t he made a wonderful career out of it?” Sensing, perhaps, that she had gone too far, Selina gave Malcolm’s arm a placating squeeze. “Come, Your Grace. You have so much influence already. Would you really begrudge me this small piece of it?”
“I might begrudge it less if I knew you were not truly after it just to spite me.”
Genuine confusion creased her brows. “You really cannot believe I have another motive?”
“If you were really concerned for the people of Twynham, you’d be content making charitable visits to the poor, as other ladies do when they want people to praise their virtue. Politics is a strange hobby for a woman.”
“I could not disagree more.” Selina gestured towards Lady Sturgeon, who was fluttering her fan at a pair of lords nearby. “Why is Lady Sturgeon hosting this musicale, if not to garner support for her husband in the House of Lords?” When Malcolm was unmoved, Selina sighed and snapped her own fan closed. “I do not accept that women must be resigned to a passive role. Think of the Duchess of Devonshire. She was one of the foremost campaigners of the last generation! When I spoke out in favour of Mr Forrester, it was not you I was thinking of. It was the duchess.”
“That great lady possessed something you lack.” Malcolm could not resist a wicked grin at Selina’s flicker of alarm. “She had a duke for a husband.”
Selina’s lips pressed tight. “And very unhappy he made her too, by all accounts.”
“This competition would be entirely unnecessary if you were my wife, Selina. The particular candidate makes little difference to me, Sir Roderick’s feelings aside. It’s the seat I want, and the vote in the Commons.”
She touched the tip of her fan to her lips, as though she were actually considering it. “With so much lust for power in your heart, Your Grace, there can be little room for anything else.”
“Great men cannot afford soft hearts, my lady.”
“In that case, since you are such a very great man, I think you can withstand a little competition.” She let go of his arm and extended her hand. “May the best man win.”
Malcolm was tempted not to shake it, but any sign of a thaw from Lady Icicle was a good thing. He pressed her hand just long enough to watch her eyes widen. “I look forward to your inevitable defeat.”
“Ladies and gentlemen!” called Lady Sturgeon from the front of the room. “Do please take your seats! The entertainment is about to begin.”
Selina withdrew her hand with as much warmth as midwinter. “I hope you enjoy the music, Your Grace.” She made to sweep away but glanced back over her shoulder at the last moment. “It would be a pity if it were spoiled by the prospect of ceding to a woman.”
Malcolm took a seat at the back of the room as the musicians – a famous string quartet visiting from Germany – began to play.
He tried to pretend that he was not sitting there simply because it offered him the perfect view of Selina Balfour’s elegant profile – the graceful curve of her back – the languid poise of her shoulders – but he had never been much good at fooling himself.
Malcolm’s father had always said that the first thing to do, on facing an enemy, was seek out their weakness. Since Malcolm was his own worst enemy more often than not, the task was not difficult. He simply had to add Selina to the list of his own vulnerabilities.
To discover her Achilles’ heel, though – that would be the real challenge in the weeks ahead. It was one thing to lose
