“I have to clean my paintbrushes.”
“I have to train a muskrat.”
“I have to hang my new portrait of the princess.”
That does it.
“I will go,” Kuni said. Leaving before Princess Mechtilda could permanently gaze down at the dining table seemed the absolute best use of Kuni’s time.
Besides, spying on British lawmakers sounded like an adventure. She had never been allowed anywhere near Balcovian legal proceedings and couldn’t imagine what it might be like. This way, she could take notes for her report.
Chloe beamed at her. “Then grab your spencer. Though I suppose you shan’t need it. The atticisa tad warm.”
“Might need the throwing knives,” Elizabeth suggested. “All those long, droning speeches…Not a single man knows when to stop talking. A knife to the chest should move things along.”
“No murdering members of Parliament,” Tommy said firmly. “Unless they deserve it.”
Chloe waved a hand. “Spencer, knives, and an umbrella.”
Kuni glanced out the window. She’d ignored it ever since Princess Mechtilda had been perched on the sill. “Good God, it’s raining pipestems out there!”
Graham glanced away from his painting. “It’s raining what?”
“Technically not stranger than ‘cats and dogs,’” Philippa told him.
“We’ll be here putting the champagne on ice.” Tommy leaned back in her chair. “Unless you’ll be too tired at that hour to celebrate with us?”
“Oh, Kunigunde and I won’tstayuntil the wee hours of the morning.”
“You?” Graham said in disbelief. “Leave Parliament early?”
“We’ll return by midnight, unless ours is the last topic raised. Once we have news, I won’t be able to wait to share it. Even if they don’t appoint an MP today to draw up the new law—”
“I hope it’s Father,” Philippa said. “He has a version started already.”
“—the moment the House forms a committee to investigate, we’re on our way.” Chloe’s eyes flashed. “Mr. Throckmorten will be forced to comply.”
Philippa looked worried. “I hope the committee deliberations don’t drag on longer than necessary. We might need to deploy our contingency plan.”
“Parliament might not form a committee at all,” Marjorie said. “Your father could present his draft of the new law today.”
“Come on, come on.” The duchess motioned to Kuni enthusiastically. “Let these slugabeds miss everything.”
Kuni glanced at Graham. According to his siblings, his constitution made him fundamentally incapable of voluntarily missing out on any news or event. Perhaps he would join her.
He was too busy gazing in raptures at his new painting to notice her leaving.
The duchess hooked her arm through Kuni’s and dragged her from the dining room. “We’re off to the best show in town.”
25
Kuni and Chloe climbed into the ducal carriage and set out toward Mayfair.
“I cannot believe we are the first to want to limit the exploitative conditions imposed on mill workers,” Kuni said, then immediately blushed.
There was no “we.”Kunihad not gone to Tipford-upon-Bealbrook to help the Goodnights. Everything that had happened, and was about to happen, was because of the Wynchesters.
The duchess did not seem to notice the gaffe. “We’re not the first. Parliament cannot agree on how to accomplish reform, which often means accomplishing nothing at all. Besides ‘houses of industry.’”
