Violet realized that she could hear voices coming into the room quite clearly. They seemed to be reaching into the room through a door located in a far corner, amplified by sound that came in through a window that lay open. Lillian leaned forward again.
“Lord Godstone told me that before the fire there was a gallery in which visitors could watch the debates, just as there is in the Commons. They call this the Whispering Room because the chamber in which they are debating is next door. And we must whisper so as not to interrupt.”
She put her fingers to her lips and Violet nodded. She was content to remain quiet but was not listening to the debate.She was hearing Ambrose Deveraux’s voice bragging about his ancestral home.
“The house itself was built on the site of a medieval fortress. My grandfather retained the curtain walls and the moat. It makes for an impressive entrance, I can tell you. And quite unique. The house rises on an island, set in gardens finer than anything outside of the Tuileries.”
Then her mother’s words from the journal that Lillian had discovered.
“His family home is a fairytale, rising above a moat and set like a jewel amid a crown of beautiful gardens. It reminded me of the grandeur of the palaces of Paris. It quite took my breath away.”
Violet’s heart hammered in her chest at the idea that now formed. That her mother, as a young woman, had known the equally young Ambrose Deveraux, Earl of Godstone. Had talked of him as though he were a lover. Or at least a man whom she loved.
Is Ambrose Deveraux my father?
Chapter 28
Alexander heard the raised voices and the aggressive hectoring tone of privileged English gentlemen as he approached the Painted Chamber. The change of clothes obtained for him fitted almost perfectly. Where the garments did not quite accommodate his powerful frame, the discrepancy was covered by his coat, which did fit. Sebastian was already in the Chamber, intent on dragging the debate on as long as possible to delay a vote. Ambrose would be opposing him vigorously. Alexander, as the champion of the Bill, would be pivotal in swaying those Peers who were undecided.
He reached the door and opened it. His mind was a mess of conflicting emotions.
What does Ambrose want with Lillian? It is no business of mine except that she is sister to Violet. They are sisters, no matter what Violet maintains. The closeness is obvious.
Alexander’s concern was that Ambrose was using the girl to strike at him. And if so, it would impact his own relationship with Violet.
If Ambrose is using Lillian, then it is me who gave him the opportunity. And Violet cannot fail to see that her sister would not have been exposed to harm but for her own involvement with me. What a tangled mess.
As he waited for the Speaker of the House to acknowledge him, he looked around. The Chamber was full. The Tory seats were packed and men stood where chairs were not available. They bayed and waved their order papers at Sebastian, who stood and spoke in a slow, plodding manner, refusing points of order and glancing at the clock at the far end of the room. Alexander moved to take his seat next to Sebastian, who acknowledged him with a flick of his eyes. Alexander raised his hand and called out.
“Point of order!”
“I concede the floor to His Grace, the Duke of Lorchester,” Sebastian said, seeming relieved.
Alexander turned to face the Tories. Ambrose stood at their front, face gloating. Alexander tried to recall all the lessons he had studied and received over the course of the last week. He hoped he would be able to make Violet proud.
“My Lords,” he began. “I thank you for your attention. I especially thank the Honorable Peers opposite. It is gratifyingindeed that so many of them care so deeply for the plight of the most vulnerable of our society.”
He spoke with clear diction, forming each word using the unfamiliar and alien accent of the English gentry. The Scots in him was brutally suppressed. His voice rang out across the chamber, mellifluous and commanding. Some of the Tories quietened, earning a surprised look from Ambrose.
“I have heard the concerns raised. That this Bill will leave many honest, hard-working businessmen out of pocket. That the economy of our great country will suffer if these children are not able to be coerced into work.”
He paused, eyes roaming the opposition seats. He caught the eye of each gentleman that Sebastian had identified as being floating in their vote, drawing them into his speech. Each one looked away after a moment, looking uncomfortable.
“My question is this…what right do those honest, hard-working businessmen have to their profits from the breath of innocent children. That is what we are discussing. Every child forced to climb a soot-caked chimney breathes in death. Each breath shortens their life. These children could grow into apprentices to work in our mines, our iron works, our shipyards, and our bustling, prosperous ports. When we exploit them in difficult and dangerous work, we deny those parts of our economy a workforce.”
“Point of order!” Ambrose called out.
Alexander conceded with a smile. He could see the growing discomfiture on Ambrose’s face. He knew that he was facing a very different opponent to the man who had stormed out of the Chamber three weeks earlier. Alexander was speaking with eloquence and grace. Men were nodding as they listened to him. Even men sitting among the Tories.
My hair may be long and my beard unfashionably trimmed. But, they are seeing me as a fellow Englishman now. And without their prejudice, they are hearing the argument. Not the accent.
“The fact is that someone must do this work and children are ideally suited. An adult could not enter such a restricted space. Are we to demand that every household in the country undergo expensive rebuilding to widen their chimneys? Or perhaps that sweeping them out should become illegal. We’ve had one Great Fire of London already. Perhaps our Scotch friend would like to see another?”
Ambrose got a rousing roar of approval for his words but Alexander noticed a handful of shaking heads. Men who were listening to his argument and then Ambrose’s personal attack. Men who, for all they feared the kind of revolution that Alexander proposed, could not stomach a bully.
“Men are capable of sweeping chimneys,” Alexander said patiently. “With brushes specially made and worked by a man at the bottom and another at the top. Two men who will cost the households of England more than a single boy. But who is capable of doing a better job? Where would this country be ifmore of its boys died of consumption or black lung and another Napoleon arises in Europe.”
That had been Violet’s suggestion during a conversation about his argument. She had wondered aloud how England could field soldiers if its boys were dying in chimneys. Alexander had not liked the suggestion that boys should be spared the chimney to die as cannon fodder. But, a murmur went through the Tory ranks at that.
