Lord Bancroft nodded for them to join him and Greeling by the fire. Augusta followed behind Sebastian, telling herself that she could be a good, obedient wife for another little while. Although, she was starting to feel the strain in her composure. Perhaps she’d gone overboard on the wine.
She and Sebastian sat opposite the two men. Augusta had the sensation of being on a battlefield.
“So, Brightwater,” Greeling said, tossing back his whiskey and sighing, “How is married life treating you?”
The man spoke only to Sebastian, as though Augusta were not in the room with them. She ignored this fact, and looked to her husband for his response.
Sebastian smiled, glancing at Augusta with a bashful expression. “I cannot complain.”
Augusta barely withheld a blush, though she did find her gaze slipping away from him in order to accomplish such a task.
“Not yet, anyhow,” Greeling said, before giving a booming, self-satisfied laugh. Lord Bancroft followed suit, offering a hollow chuckle that was placating, at best.
Augusta froze, instantly incensed. Next to her, Sebastian did not make any sound aside from softly clearing his throat. When hedid speak, it was stiff.
“I fully anticipate remaining happy, actually.”
Greeling’s laugh died down before he waved away Sebastian’s statement. “Yes, well, we shall see about all that. I have heard from Bancroft here that you will be a part of our campaign efforts.”
Augusta furrowed her brow; in all their many hours of talking, Sebastian had said nothing about political leanings. He might have been quite a traditional man in some ways, but she had not taken him for a Tory.
When she looked over at Sebastian, she was surprised to find understanding in his expression. Then, he nodded.
“Yes, Bancroft was very…” he glanced at his friend. “...persuasive.”
Something in his tone told Augusta that there was a great deal more to the story. So, why had he not told her such a tale? They had spoken so much thus far - of their families, their lives. This seemed to be something quite important. At least, it was being spoken of with very serious voices.
Lord Bancroft gave a wolfish grin. “I often am.”
Augusta had spent a great deal of her life being on the outside of things. She ought to be comfortable here. But for some reason, in this instance, she could not shake the feeling that a web was being woven in front of her.
“I did not know that you were inclined toward politics,” she said, working hard to make her voice cheery and light, when its natural timbre was so much lower.
Sebastian looked down at his hands. “I am not, usually. This was an exception.”
Hm. She would have to ask him about it later, when they werealone. For now, she would continue to smile and play along.
“Well, I think that is excellent,” she said, not adding that it would be more excellent if Greeling were not involved. “Your influence is invaluable.”
Sebastian shot her a grateful look. No doubt, he had expected some sort of chiding for keeping silent on his involvement with the Tories. Augusta may not have been able to make sense of why he had chosen to keep it a secret, but she decided not to henpeck him for it. She understood secrets.
Lord Greeling sat back in his seat and sighed. “Yes, well, we certainly have our work cut out for us. It seems that the rot of society continues to fester. Soon the maggots will have a buffet.”
Augusta winced at the crude imagery, as well as Greeling’s dire tone.
Sebastian attempted a laugh, though it came out hollow. “Surely it is not so harrowing out there.”
Greeling leveled him with a look. “You’d be surprised. If the Liberals had their way, your wife would be the one wearing your britches and filling your coffers.” With a scoff, he shook his head. “Soon we’ll be getting examined bywomen doctors, God help us.”
He said it with the severity of a war declaration. Augusta refused to look at Sebastian, to see his reaction to the statement. If he was anything but open, it would crush her. It was best not to know, in the end.
But she could not bite her tongue. Not after her dinner with the Society, and the bright, intelligent women whom Greeling should only hope would be willing to examine him.
“I should hope you are not insinuating that a woman doctor would be lesser,” she said steadily. It was an act of ignorance; of course that was exactly what he was insinuating, and what every other man in the room likely agreed with on some level.But by playing the fool, she forced Greeling to actually look her in the eye. That was a victory.
The man’s eyes narrowed, and she sensed the target that she had just placed upon her person.
“Rather outspoken, aren’t we, Lady Brightwater?”
