He did not place her behind him.He did not place her beside him like a possession.He placed herwithhim.
“Lady Beatrix has been following the Reform question with rather more attention than most men in this room,” Nicholas said mildly.“And she has a habit of spotting the holes in an argument.”
Bea went utterly still.
Langford blinked, then let out a short, humorless laugh.“Surely you do not mean to tell me?—”
“I do,” Nicholas said pleasantly.
A ripple went through the room.A few men shifted as if uncertain whether to be amused or offended.A few women straightened, suddenly alert.
Bea could feel heat climbing her throat.
Nicholas looked at her, and there was something in his gaze that made her lungs fill as though she’d been given permission to breathe.
He was not laughing at her.
He was not using her as a prop.
He was—damn him—offering her the floor.
“Tell them,” he murmured.
Bea’s mouth went dry.She didn’t relish being watched.Didn’t particularly enjoy being examined.But the fury that lived in her chest—the one she poured into ink—rose to meet the moment like a pencil finding her palm.
Bea lifted her chin.“Sir Edwin speaks as though the people are infants who must be managed,” she said clearly.“But the people are the ones who build the wealth this country spends.They work in mills and mines and fields and shipyards.They serve as footmen in the homes of men who would deny them a voice.”
All eyes momentarily turned to the footman, who cleared his throat and glanced away.
“And you would have them vote because they labor?”Langford’s voice dripped with condescension.
“I would have them vote because they are governed,” Bea replied.“Because they pay taxes.Because they fight in wars.Because they are punished by laws they have no hand in shaping.”
“Sentimental nonsense,” Langford snapped.“A vote does not feed a child.”
“No,” Bea said, voice steady.“But laws can.And wages can.And the ability to hold a person accountable can.”
Someone near the hearth made a small sound of interest.
Langford’s face reddened.“It is easy for a duke’s daughter to preach about accountability.”
Bea’s jaw tightened.She would not be shamed into silence.“It is easy for a man with a seat in Parliament to mock hunger.”
A murmur, sharper this time.A few men exchanged glances.
Langford’s eyes flashed.“Women are not meant to meddle in these matters.”
Bea felt the room tilt.The old, familiar pressure.She could hear her father’s voice in her head.Smile, retreat, don’t make a scene.
She opened her mouth?—
And Nicholas spoke first.
“How fascinating,” he said, with a calm that made several heads turn.“I wasn’t aware Parliament’s legitimacy depended on what women are ‘meant’ to do.”
Langford stiffened.“Vanover?—”
Nicholas’s gaze was cool now, his voice still mild.“If your position is strong, it can survive being questioned.If it cannot survive a question, then perhaps it deserves to be replaced.”
