Ifanyonecould turn the House of Lords on its head and bring about real change, that duke was Faircliffe. In fact, even if Leisterdale’s blackmail had worked on Olivebury, Viv wouldn’t be surprised if Faircliffe stopped the act cold in the House of Lords.
“I’ll help,” Viv said swiftly. “Those issues are dear to my heart.”
When Faircliffe swept into Westminster, he’d be as eloquent as a preacher on Sunday morning. He’d gain so many disciples the debates would be over in a single session.
“Splendid.” The duke looked relieved, as though he’d feared Viv might dismisshimout of hand. “I’ll take all the aid I can get.”
No one else seemed to think anything of the unlikely partnership.
As they fell into easy conversation, Viv was forced to admit the Duke of Faircliffe wasn’t remotely the snooty, self-serving prig she’d imagined all lords to be. After having been dismissed at first glance her whole life, Viv ought to know better than to assume that any one person was necessarily representative of whatever category they belonged to.
To be sure, some—perhaps most—men of great wealth were as evil as could be imagined. But the fact that aristocrats like Faircliffe existed, that he had allies in the House of Lords and even more in the House of Commons… It gave her hope that maybe she might actually see real and good change in her lifetime.
She accepted a cake from Marjorie. Tart lime and sugary sweetness exploded on Viv’s tongue. For a brief moment, she was transported back in time. To the aroma of a freshly opened oven and the comforting warmth of her mother’s arms. It tasted like the beloved hug she’d dreamed of for so long. It felt like family.
Regardless of their methods, there could be no confusion as to which side of the battle the Wynchesters belonged to. They fought for justice, always. Equality. Fairness. Representation.
Her gaze slid to Jacob, whose lap was hidden beneath a blanket of wiggling felines.
He gave a crooked smile and held one out. “Kitten?”
She took that, too. Its paws tickled her palm and its little pink tongue was rough against her skin. “What’s its name?”
“Princess Poppy.”
She petted the cat’s soft fur. While she was being magnanimous, Jacob wasn’t a monster, either. Much like the duke, Jacob had tried to use his colleagues’ privileged status to help lift Viv up, too.
His heart had been in a good place. She appreciated the purity of his intentions. She just wished they could have worked toward a goal together, instead of him assuming he knew best.
Rich, coming from the woman who was literally paid to assume she knew best.
“If you’re accepting everything anyone offers,” said Chloe with a twinkle in her eye, “want to mind Dory for the night? I haven’t slept four hours in a row since giving birth.”
The duke snatched his son from his wife’s arms before Viv could answer.
“He shan’t spend a single night away from me until he goes to Eton.” Faircliffe kissed the baby’s brow. “And even then, I might stow away with him.”
Chloe fluttered her eyelashes at him. “And then I might geteighthours of sleep.”
Faircliffe blinked in sudden understanding, then held the baby toward Viv. “Want to mind Dory for the night?”
Viv grinned and lifted the kitten on her lap. “I can’t even take Princess Poppy home. I have an attack badger who doesn’t like visitors.”
The mention of Rufus made her recall Jacob’s most recent visit, when he’d brought over breakfast. The badger hadn’t attacked him once. Perhaps Rufus had come to see Jacob as part of the family, too.
Viv wrapping herself around Jacob and devouring his kisses would certainly give that impression. She closed her eyes as she stroked the kitten and remembered what it had been like to run her greedy hands over Jacob’s body, press her own to his chest and hips, open her mouth to his. It had been, without question, the best breakfast she’d ever had.
But was one perfect morning worth the risk of a lifetime?
26
That evening, when Jacob entered the supper room, his entire family squawked and flapped their arms and roosted precariously on their seats like a coop full of chickens trying to conceal their eggs from a fox.
“Not suspicious at all,” he informed them.
No one made eye contact.
“Mmm, these are delicious pies,” Tommy announced to the room in general, taking a comically big bite.
