Reggie whined, and Lady Mary fed him another strip of bacon. Julius shook his head. That dog was going to get fat living in this house.
“Thirty-six votes. That’s all that was needed.” She scooped up a bit of beef and stared at the wall behind Julius, chewing thoughtfully. “Only thirty-six men needed to be persuaded to change their minds.”
“Don’t fool yourself.” He folded his napkin and laid it beside his plate. “Nothing ever changes. This is a brutal world, and we just have to survive it.”
She looked at him sharply. “Yes, but the eight-year-olds who get caught stealing a loaf of bread to feed their family aren’t surviving it, are they? They’re being hanged.” She placed a hand on her throat.
His guts turned to lead. She had come too close to that fate. If he and Montague had arrived at Tyburn just minutes later, this sweet woman would have been dead. The good people of London had been deprived of their entertainment that day, but there were many more executions for them to watch. Almost every crime was a capital offense in England, and the reformers voices were faint.
“There’s a ball tonight,” he said, an idea burgeoning in his mind. “Many in the House of Lords will be in attendance. You should come. Try to persuade those thirty-six men.”
Amanda’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t … I can’t … what is wrong with you?” she sputtered.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“Do I need to get a ball gown out of my trunk?” Lady Mary asked, her lips turned down. A fly buzzed around her plate, and she pulled a lace handkerchief from her sleeve and waved it at the insect.
Amanda patted her hand. “No. There will be no ball.” She turned on Julius. “Every part of what you said is ridiculous. First of all, I would never be allowed into a ball. No one in society will recognize me.”
“If you’re on my arm, you’ll be allowed entry,” he growled. Julius was growing frustrated with the strictures of society. Montague seemed to accept that his sister-in-law would remain an outcast for the remainder of her life, but Julius wasn’t so disposed. “And no one will dare say a word against you in my presence. Not if they want to keep their teeth.”
She ignored that. “Secondly, no member of the House of Lords is going to listen to me, a woman, much less a disgraced woman, on British law.”
He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “There are respected female voices. Not many, I’ll grant you, but they do exist. You’ll just have to speak louder so the old windbags can hear you over their own sermonizing.”
“And thirdly—” She abruptly cut herself off, looking anywhere but at him.
“Thirdly?” he prodded.
Twisting the napkin in her hands, she worried her bottom lip.
“Amanda?”
“Thirdly,” she said, her voice so low he had to lean forward, “you know I can’t go out. I. Can’t. Go. Out.” Her voice broke on the last word.
His chest squeezed as though caught in a vise. Shit, were those tears in her eyes? She needed to be pushed outside her comfortable surroundings. But he couldn’t stand it if he made her cry.
“Calm yourself.” He covered her hand with his own. “I would never force you to do something you don’t wish. But you can’t live the rest of your life within these walls. You need to start making some attempts out.”
“Not to a ball,” she said fiercely.
Julius blew out a deep breath. Yes, a ball would be like throwing a baby into a lake and expecting her to swim. Smaller steps were needed. He rubbed her knuckles, knowing he should pull away. While Lady Mary was an inattentive old woman, she still had eyes. But Amanda’s hand was warm beneath his, her skin silky soft. She was breaking his resolve without even trying.
“Any time you wish to venture outside, let me know. I’ll be there for you.”
Nodding, she dropped her gaze back to the paper. “Do you think some of the lords might be open to persuasion?”
“I do.” The House of Lords were like any other group of people. Subject to whim, eager to follow the latest trend. Sheep looking for anyone to follow.
She nodded again, this time with determination. “Then I have some work to do.” Rising, she plucked up the paper and tucked it under her arm.
Julius stood. “Where are you going?”
“To Montague’s study to write some letters.” Reggie padded after her to the door. “As you say, I’m stuck within these walls. I might as well make better use of my time than fumbling around with my needlepoint.”
“You intend to start a letter campaign to change the law?” Emotions warred within his breast. Amanda needed a purpose, and she had chosen a worthy cause. But she was in for inevitable defeat. While the men in the House of Lords were open to suggestion, they wouldn’t be persuaded by a letter from Miss Amanda Wilcox. She was too easy to dismiss.
Would she close herself up even more when she finally accepted her defeat?
