Christopher sat, shaking with excitement at this, his first exchange in the House of Lords. His uncle patted him on the back. “Well done, my boy.”
Christopher turned to his uncle. “It occurs to me that my views appear to align more with the opposition than with our side.”
His uncle shrugged. “Your opinions may not always align with our party. Mine don’t always align either. That does not mean you cannot forge alliances with the other side when particular matters strike you as important. It is what your Father always did. He followed his conscience, and it is what bought him the respect of his fellow peers.”
Christopher leaned back; glad he had done what had felt right. He had only a moment to revel, however, for when he looked up, he saw Thornmouth glaring at him. A moment later the man pointed at him and mouthed “You and me,” and pointed outside. Christopher felt a rage build inside him once more and shrugged at the man in a non-committal manner. Inside, however, he was itching for a talk.
* * *
By the end of the special session, a compromise, much in line with Christopher’s suggestion, had been struck. A Special Commission was to be convened and the rioters tried by the judges. Suggestions were made as to suitable punishments, ranging from time served in the local gaol to being sent to the colonies via ship. Execution appeared to have fallen out of favor, much to Christopher’s relief.
He found himself rather popular with the Whig lords but to his surprise, even a few of the Torie lords came up to him and slapped him on the back, comparing his style of speaking to that of his late father. He was offered snuff by Lord Trattford, an influential peer of the Torie faction. Another, Lord Sunderton, invited him to take dinner at the well-known Whig club Brooks. By the time the Prince’s Chamber had emptied, Christopher was very pleased with the inroad he’d so inadvertently made with his fellow peers.
“Didn’t know you had it in you, did you?” A familiar voice came just as he was readying himself to leave. He turned and saw Lord Hazelshire approach.
“I had not planned to speak, but the Duke all but called on me.”
Lord Hazelshire grimaced. “I will say, my future son-in-law has a distinct manner of handling himself and it usually serves him well. I am not certain the same can be said for today’s events.”
Suddenly, Christopher’s heart sank. He’d not considered the possible repercussions of him challenging Thornmouth so publicly. He knew how important a peer he was and how much Lord Hazelshire seemed to relish their connection.
“I hope my speaking out against the Duke’s plans has not placed you in an awkward position,” he started.
Lord Hazelshire waved his arm dismissively. “This is politics. Isaac knows this well.”
Isaac? Christopher had to think for a moment and then remembered. Isaac Travers was the Christian name of the Duke of Thornmouth. He was surprised to hear Lord Hazelshire use it with such ease. It was highly unusual to refer to anyone by their first name, let alone one with whom you were not yet related.
He is trying to show me that he is closely connected to Thornmouth without pointing out the obvious. However, he genuinely does not seem concerned.
“Well, then, that is good to hear.”
He shrugged, “Especially if you and he and going to be family one day,” he winked at his obvious reference to the union he sought between Catherine and Christopher. Thus far, he’d been able to avoid having to discuss the matter, but he feared the time would come where that was not possible anymore.
Quickly, he changed the subject. “Speaking of your daughters, how is Lady Rowena? I was ever so sorry to hear she took ill at our dinner.”
Lord Hazelshire nodded. “It is indeed. My wife believed it was simply the tea cake she ate. She is not fond of sugar, Lady Hazelshire. She claims it causes headaches and all manner of other ailments, among them Rowena’s sudden illness. But she recovered well after a good nights’ sleep. In fact, the very next day, she and her Mother went to St. James’s Park for a carriage ride with Isaac.”
Christopher’s heart sank.
“Is that so? So, the courtship is proceeding well?”
“Slower than I would like, but proceeding it is,” Hazelshire smiled, pleased indeed.
He had to think quickly, for if the courtship was proceeding, then he had little time to convince Rowena to give in to what their hearts wanted. He had to find a way to see her again, and soon. Then, it came to him.
“Lady Hazelshire mentioned a visit to Almack's.” The dance at the Almack's took place each Wednesday evening. While still five days away, at least it would be something to look forward to and a certainty to see Rowena.
“By Jove, she did. And I was to remind you of it today. It appears our dear Catherine is eager to dance with you again too. To tell the truth, I believe it would be a marvelous distraction for all of my three roses. They are certainly in need.”
“Is that so?” Christopher wondered what could have happened in the past three days to cause the need for distraction for the Burton ladies.
“Our ward, Miss Carmichael–you met her at the dinner. She has departed to take her position with Lord and Lady Portsmouth. She has been a part of our family for so many years and I must admit her absence is felt rather profoundly. Rowena has taken it particularly hard. They are ever so close. And Catherine,” he shook his head. “Betsy was her mentor for so many years. And my wife. Well. Sufficient to say, an evening at the Almack's may do them all well.”
Christopher bit his bottom lip as he thought back to the lovely young woman who’d all but saved them from being discovered by Lady Hazelshire. He was genuinely concerned for her well-being, for Lord Portsmouth was known to be too personal with his servants. He considered once again raising his concerns with Lord Hazelshire, but after today’s display he did not wish to push his luck.
He would instead speak to Rowena.
“Your Grace?” Hazelshire’s voice drew him from his thoughts.
