I write that little tidbit down, even though the question didn’t narrow anything down.
Most of Westminster is the same as it is in modern times, but the real treat is that I get to eavesdrop on ministers, unfiltered, and watch them work in Victorian times.Boy, do they have opinions on the Factory and Workshop Act being debated this year.Although the opinions are largely as expected (rich people hate it), the real gold is the bits of their personal lives they talk about when they should be discussing legislation.
It’s fantastic.The notebook is certainly getting broken in, pages already filled.
Leo lets me sit in the House of Lords throne where I order him around for a minute before I get nervous that someone will see me on here and behead me, and he makes out with me in the House of Lords Library.
Because libraries are our place now.
Unfortunately, we’re interrupted in the library before things can get really good by a dour-looking man in a robe who doesn’t see anything scandalous but disapproves because he can sense we’re having fun.We shuffle past him, giggling like schoolchildren caught by the headmaster.I’m laughing so hard Leo has to physically pull me along.
Next on the list is Westminster Abbey, which I enjoy seeing without the velvet ropes keeping the public back.I take liberal advantage of the freedom, rushing to document every bit of the areas I couldn’t see in 2025.
There’s no kissing there, which is probably for the best.
“Hour’s up,” I whisper at him.“Are we going to a play?”
“No,” he whispers back.I make a note as we leave the church.“I imagine you are hungry now.Will you take your tea with a hint of intrigue?”
“Intrigue?Yes, please.”I tug at his arm, speeding up to get to his carriage faster.
“Would you like more information before you commit fully?Intrigue tends to involve danger.”
I scoff.“I’m with a Peer of the Realm.I somehow think I’ll be all right.”Or I could bear the entire brunt of the punishment, but I’m banking on Leo protecting me with his aristocratic cloak.
“Hmm.We are going to take tea at White’s.”
I gasp and stop in place.“White’s?No-girls-allowed White’s?With the betting book and theno girls allowed?That White’s?”
“Yes.I am going to throw a cloak over you and pretend not to hear any questions about the entire situation.I have also enlisted the aid of friends to get through most of the enforcers.They think this is quite the jape.”
“There’s going to be enforcers and disguises and annoying the patriarchy?”I smile so wide my cheeks hurt at how perfect this tea is going to be.I wish I had a giant poster that saysGirls Rule and Boys Droolthat I could leave in the sitting room to really stick it to them.
“I thought you might enjoy it,” Leo says as he throws a cloak over my head, dampening my image but not my enthusiasm.
“This dress is really obvious.We’ve got a lot working against us,” I say, muffled by the material.
“We are relying heavily on my friends in this scenario.”
“Did you promise to buy their drinks?”
“For a fortnight.And they can certainly drink, so please derive as much pleasure as you can out of this.”
I don’t tell him how irresponsible it is.Considering my time with Leo is limited, I don’t want to waste any of it being responsible.Or lecturing Leo about spending his money.
“I’m going to enjoy this more than any place a man has ever taken me.”I can’t even get into White’s in my time; I’m still too woman-y for those losers.
The carriage ride is short, and then Leo is walking me past the famous bow window where Beau Brummell judged passersby.I don’t gawk at it like the tourist I am because Leo’s striding through the door with a confidence that I’ve never felt in my life, not even with how assertive I’ve been in the past week.I try to emulate it, not wanting to be the weak link in our subterfuge.
He even nods cheekily at the doorman.And when said doorman gives me a closer look, an entire group of carousing men tumble into the building from behind us, pushing me farther into the masculine space.
And boy, does it want me to know it’s masculine.Like a very insecure person, it pushes stereotypical manliness in my face at every turn: wood paneling or plain walls, only minimal crown molding, paintings of stodgy men looking sternly down in case I had the nerve to be a woman (oops), and dark wood tables covered with newspapers.Only some red leather chairs and a flirty chandelier break the theme.
It smells like smoke and musty newspapers, and I’ve never been more grateful for the future ban on indoor smoking than right now, as I cough in this hallowed space.It may be better to take it all in with my other senses.
I dip into the morning room and take a seat at Beau’s famous window.I put my nose in the air and give Leo my best British accent.“Look, old chap.Look at this unfortunate soul who has the temerity to wear paisley.Paisley is so last season, I say.”
Leo rolls his eyes and leans against the wall just outside the window.Leans very seductively, although that may just be because I find everything he does seductive.“I do want you to enjoy your time here, but we might want to hurry if you want to see as many rooms as possible and take tea.”
