Christopher turned to his uncle. He was glad to hear him speak in such a manner for the common people. He leaned into his uncle.
“It is not due to the lords who caused this state by repealing the income tax and by allowing an inflation to occur?”
His uncle nodded, a look of pride flashing across his face.
“It is indeed, my boy. I did not know that you have such wisdom of the running of the country.”
He shrugged. “Mother often spoke of the plight of the less fortunate, and how things came to be as they are. In addition, Father was a keen Parliamentarian, as you know.”
Just then, the Duke of Thornmouth turned to them, interrupting his heated speech.
“Has the Duke of Westmond or the Earl of Totham anything to say or do they just enjoy their own personal conversation while the country is aflame?”
Christopher’s nostrils flared at the direct challenge and he sucked in a breath of air.
“Topher, it is not wise to–” Uncle Nestor started, but it was too late. Christopher had already risen.
“Indeed, I do, Your Grace. I question the wisdom of you calling for the death of these men when it is in part your doing which has caused these riots.”
“My doing?” Thornmouth replied, a smirk on his face as he turned to his fellow lords. “Do you hear this? It is our fault. Our doing.” He turned back to Christopher.
“Indeed, it is. You have eliminated the income tax which placed undue burden on the poor who are left to pay the bulk of our national debt through indirect taxation. In addition, you have done nothing to increase employment opportunity in Cambridgeshire. It is no wonder they are rioting.”
“The impertinence of the Duke of Westmond is outrageous,” Thornmouth hollered. “To come here as a new member of our prestigious House of Lords and to lecture us is unheard of.”
“I will not contradict you in saying I am new. However, I will say that my fellow peers look no further than Lancashire and its surrounding counties to see that proper attention to these matters would have gone far in preventing these riots and discontent.” He looked out over the assembled crowd and spotted two familiar faces.
“My Father had the foresight, along with Lord Dornton of Cumbria and Lord Westcott of Yorkshire, to ensure the population had proper access to grain and opportunity for work. I, along with them, intended to carry forward that approach. Are you with me?”
For a moment, Christopher held his breath. The two lords he’d called out, Dornton and Westcott, were strong allies of his father, among the few who had assisted him in his dying days, both financially and with visits. Christopher, however, had been neglectful in maintaining the relationship, given that his focus had been on rebuilding his fortunes, as their alliance was already strong.
What if they will not stand with me? What if I have made a fool of myself? Am I about to damage my entire future because I could not help but engage Thornmouth?
In reality, if any other Lord and stood up and spoken in the manner Thornmouth had, Christopher would have remained silent. He would have felt the same malcontent and the sentiment displayed, but he would have held his tongue. But their mutual interest in Rowena had spurned him to speak out, much to his own surprise.
Then, to his relief, Lord Dornton and Westcott exchanged a glance, and both called out “Aye, we are.”
The young man’s face darkened, and Christopher saw how the corners of his mouth twitched.
“So, what is your suggestion then? As you seem to have all the answers, Lord Duke.”
He tilted his head to one side and waited.
He is sure I will fail, and that I will not have an answer. In truth, I do not. I had not planned to speak up and now I am the center of attention.
It occurred to him that this was his opportunity to shine, to show the other lords that he could be counted on, and that he could lead as well. He took a deep breath and conjured up in his mind the images of those most dear to him. His mother, who had always been proud of him and believed in him, Lady Rowena, who he’d fallen in love with in such a short time but whom he’d love forever if she let him, and even his father. A proud Parliamentarian. Would he too be proud?
Christopher glanced at his uncle who looked up at him, a smile on his face and expectation in his eyes. Christopher took a deep breath.
“I agree we cannot allow this behavior to stand, lest it spread throughout the country. However, we cannot execute every rioter, as it will only spread more discontent throughout the entire realm. Instead, we must appoint a Special Commission to deal with the ringleaders. Sentence them. Execute the leaders if you must, though show mercy to the rest. These are men and women who simply want to work and provide for their families. It is we nobles who have made it impossible for many of them.”
“You are a regular Lord Byron, I see,” Thornmouth quipped but to Christopher’s joy, many of the lords who had previously cheered Thornmouth remained silent. One, an older lord sitting just to the right of Thornmouth, even hissed at him to let Christopher continue.
“I am certain if we show mercy and give all involved proper fair trials and measured sentences, we will see an end to further rioting. Then, we must ensure there is work for the paupers, access to necessities such as grain. It is our responsibility to ensure events such as what happened at Eyl and Littleton do not occur again.” He nodded at his fellow lords and took his seat. Beside him, his uncle called out “Hear, Hear!” which was swiftly joined by an array of other lords.
He noted that many of the lords who cheered his notions were of the opposing Whig party. He spotted Earl Hazelshire seated among the Whig members. He did not cheer. However, when he and Christopher locked eyes, he smiled at him and gave him a nod which meant that while he did not approve, he at least respected Christopher’s courage.
Thornmouth, meanwhile, scowled and continued for a little while to defend his position until, looking spent, he yielded the speakers position to the Lord Speaker.
