“I do believe you have a promise to keep,” she said.
Chapter Forty
Several months later
“Friends, I thank you for the trust you have placed in me this day,” James said from the dais. “I accept your charge with humility, gratitude, and an unyielding sense of duty. Throughout my campaign, I have argued that every life—whether shaped by labor, devoted to service, or marked by suffering—deserves dignity. That conviction will guide my every step in the Commons.”
As applause thundered through the Reading Town Hall, Evie beamed with pride from the front row, where she sat with the rest of the Harrington clan. The assembly room was packed with supporters, including many of the good folk from Chuddums. All had come to hear James’s victory speech. His opponent, Ryerson, had been enveloped in scandal for spreading slander purchased from a criminal but had refused to concede defeat. In the end, the people protested Ryerson’s disgraceful behavior at the polls, where James had beaten him by a resounding margin.
“The measure of a nation is not found in the strength of its wealthiest, but in how it treats its most defenseless.” James’s voice, deep and resonant with conviction, filled the hall. “These ordinary, hardworking people are not guilty of some moral failing. No, they toil with dignity and diligence yet find it difficult to feed their families and afford a roof over their heads. This is not part of some ordained order but a reflection of an unjust system that must be changed.”
The cheers that went up were even louder than before.
“You have to give my brother credit,” Ethan muttered to Xenia. “He knows how to pour on the butter.”
“Shh.” This came from Harkness, who sat in the row behind them. With prim censure, she said, “The earl is giving an important speech.”
Ethan rolled his eyes at Evie, who responded with a rueful smile. She and Harkness had long since reconciled; she couldn’t hold a grudge against her dear companion when she, herself, had kept secrets to protect those she loved. Their relationship had resumed its normal course—with one exception. After James had helped to capture Wilmington and stood by her side during the brief trial that found the villain guilty of extortion (murder had been too difficult to prove, and it was unlikely Wilmington would survive his sentence of penal servitude), Harkness had taken a liking to Evie’s husband. In Harkness’s eyes, James could now do no wrong, a shift that relieved and amused Evie.
As James continued to speak, his siblings and parents glowed with pride. In the weeks leading up to the election, they had all pitched in to help him clinch this victory. His parents had hosted events on his behalf, and his siblings had helped to spread goodwill.
“I shall not forget the hardships you have confided to me nor the aspirations you have shared,” James was saying. “In particular, I would like to extend my gratitude to the people of Chudleigh Bottoms, who have inspired me with their perseverance, ingenuity, and commitment to one another. The resurgence of their village, after years of hardship, has demonstrated that success is possible, even for those deemed unlikely to win.”
“We are losers and proud of it!” The contribution came from Wally, egged on by his ancient cronies, who stamped their feet and thumped their canes in agreement. “Long live Chuddums!”
“Long live Chuddums!” the crowd began to chant.
His lips twitching, James waited for the enthusiasm to die down.
“I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge my family. My parents and siblings have been stalwart supporters of my campaign and throughout my life. I owe them a debt of gratitude.”
Evie saw the tears in Mama’s eyes, the approval in Papa’s. Ethan, Gigi, and Owen exchanged grins, as if to say, “We shall be collecting on that debt, dear brother.”
“And to my wife, Lady Evelyn Harrington.”
James’s gaze found hers, and she basked in the emotion she saw there.
“No speech can fully convey my appreciation. She has been the quiet hearth at which my spirits are restored, and the bright mind that illuminates the world of those around her.”
“Bright mind, my foot. Lady Manderly is a natural genius,” Wally shouted. “She figured out a way to bring the cherries back!”
Blushing furiously, Evie wanted to demur: a new crop of cherries was far from assured, yet her reintroduction of the Widow’s Weeds moth to Mr. Lydell’s orchard had led to prodigious blossoming not seen for decades. She was hopeful that the fruit would follow. In the meantime, she was working on a paper—a follow-up to her recently published work in the Botanical Society’s journal. She was tentatively titling it, “The Curious Case of Chuddums’s Cherries.”
“To my wife,” James said with tender pride. “Whose presence is a beacon to all of us.”
Since Evie could not reply, she answered with action. She brushed one hand over her mama’s pearl necklace and the other subtly over her waist, where the new life she carried had yet to show. James had given her these gifts—one from the past, the other for the future—and she wanted him to know how precious they were to her. How precious he was.
She saw his subtle nod of recognition before he delivered the closing.
“With your continued support, I will strive to bring about progress that will be felt in the lives of every man, woman, and child in this district. I thank you again for this great honor. Today, let us celebrate; tomorrow, we begin the work.”
As the audience surged to a standing ovation, James stepped down from the dais. He moved toward her with single-minded purpose. When he reached her, he simply extended his hand, and the rest of the world fell away. Rising, Evie slipped her fingers into his. Their connection was such that the crowd stayed at a respectful distance, yielding them a few moments alone.
He kissed her hand, a decidedly proper gesture. However, the brush of his lips over her skin reminded her of the celebrating they’d done during the carriage ride over. The wicked flicker in his gaze held the promise of more private festivities.
“Did I speak clearly enough?” he asked.
She smiled at his earnestness. It was so James to question his own perfection.
