And they did make an irreplaceable difference in the lives of ordinary citizens, who would have no recourse or hope if it weren’t for this one-of-a-kind family.
“I want Quentin to think before he acts,” she said at last. “Actions have consequences.”
Marjorie nodded. “For example, he set out to impersonate a Wynchester, which resulted in… successfully impersonating a Wynchester.”
Viv shot her a dark look. Quentin was exactly the sort of high-spirited young lad who was probably cackling to himself over the stories he would be able to tell about the time he was held hostage after being mistaken for a Wynchester. He’d trot this tale out to anyone who would listen, until they all had it memorized. Other than fainting at the sight of his own blood, the bounder was likely having the adventure of a lifetime.
As long as his captors were treating him like a Balcovian baron, and not the orphaned bastard of a Black mistress.
“He’s fine,” Jacob said quickly, as though he could read the emotions crossing Viv’s face.
“You don’t know that,” she replied, as evenly as she could.
“Leisterdale’s original plan was to be a thief, not a hotel,” Philippa said. “Unless your script included detailed instructions on how to manage a long-term abduction, Leisterdale may be at a loss as to what to do with your cousin.”
Oh, Lord. Viv covered her face with her hands. She’d forgotten that it was her own damn plays that had spelled out how to steal and blackmail and kidnap in the first place.
Leisterdale wasn’t the mastermind.Shewas.
“The prisoner in my play was well treated,” she said in relief. “The kidnapper sent proof of captivity, and the grieving parents fell right in line.”
Marjorie lowered her plate of cakes. “You wrote a play about abducting children?”
“Children are taken all the time,” Viv said defensively. “Igive them a happy ending. The kidnapper goes to prison, and the children return home to their parents. Besides, that script was a private exercise written for my own entertainment, not as a manual for malefactors.”
“No one is to blame for this but Leisterdale,” Jacob assured her.
“And the corrupt hierarchy that grants him immunity for his crimes,” Viv muttered.
“Privilege of peerage isn’t immunity,” Graham corrected her. “At least, not completely. Peers cannot be arrested in civil suits, but theycanface trial for criminal charges.”
“Judged by a jury of his fellow House of Lords, who are singularly unlikely to condemn one of their own. Particularly if they agree with Leisterdale’s motivation.” Viv snorted in disgust. “Few peers lose a single day of freedom for their crimes. Whereas commoners can be executed for stealing a sheep, or pickpocketing a single shilling.”
“Trust me,” said Graham. “Chloe is planning to reform that next. She and Faircliffe have a list of—”
“Talking about us?” asked a female voice.
Viv twisted in her seat to see the duke and duchess enter the room, the baby gnawing on her shoulder.
“We’re discussing the hundred-and-fifty items you hope to strike from the current list of hanging offenses,” Graham said.
“We’re up to one hundred and sixty-three,” Chloe said with a smile. “I’m still negotiating.”
Marjorie handed the baby a biscuit.
Chloe turned to Viv. “While Graham’s team hunts for the missing painting and your cousin, why don’t you return to our house with us and help us hone our arguments for tonight’s parliamentary session?”
Viv blinked at her. It wasn’t the first time the duchess had offered such a thing, but it was the first time Viv realized the offer was very serious.
“We can discuss more than that,” added the duke. “After we enact voting reform, I am open to other worthy causes.”
“Why don’t you abolish slavery, while you’re at it?” said Viv. “If it’s illegal in England, it should be illegal on British soil worldwide.”
Faircliffe held up his hands. “I agree with you, but we must tackle one thing at a time.”
“Why must we?” Viv demanded. “I reject that binary. We should burn down all the injustices at once.”
She was being a little sarcastic… and one hundred percent earnest. Most of her plays and all of her dreams were about reform of one type or another. She normally wouldn’t hold her breath expecting some wealthy aristocrat to fight on her behalf, but until now she’d also never beheld one who flopped into an armchair in front of her as an equal.
