Chapter 29
“It’s been an hour. Does the place have food?”
Leo sighs and keeps walking through the halls of Parliament. “No. Well, there may be some, but it is not the main purpose of the location. I personally cannot remember if I have ever eaten there.”
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 the no 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 says Girls Rule and Boys Drool that 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.”
“Good point.” I get my notebook out and take notes as I spread my lady-ness on everything. “Look, I’m getting girl on EVERYTHING.” I sit in a few chairs to maximize my presence and caress a few tables in defiance.
“Yes. Everyone is going to wonder why it smells so lovely when they get in.”
The rest of the building looks surprisingly plain. I guess the main draw is no women, and they don’t need to try hard with the decoration.
There are a few men lounging around, chatting and reading the newspaper, who give us only a cursory glance.
I guess they really do take privacy seriously.
And anytime someone gets a little more curious, or looks at us too hard, a hoard of rowdy men descends as a distraction, drawing attention and disapproving looks their way.
“Can I see the betting book?” I whisper.
“Yes, you can.” Leo leads me to another room, with a book open in the middle.
It’s too high for me to read comfortably, and before I can be sad about it, Leo appears at my side with a few books.
My mother would slap me for standing on books because it is very disrespectful to do in Indian culture, but I’ll apologize to them after.
It’s worth it, because the bets are a treasure trove of information!
Betting how long a drop of water takes to get down the window, how soon Lady Marquette will get married, whose son is going to reach five feet first between two lords, and how soon it’ll be before the widow Lady Alfred takes her first lover.
Nothing logical to bet on, like sports. But clearly superior in my opinion, because it shows everyone loves petty drama and gossip, even if they pretend to look down on it.
“What’s the wildest bet you’ve made here?” I ask as I peruse the bets.
“I do not bet here. I take my pleasure watching my friends get invested in the contents of the book in front of you, but I do not want to become like my father so I try to stay away. To limit my gambling, at least.”
“Responsiblest rake ever,” I say under my breath but not really that quietly.
“Pardon me? Someone responsible would never take you where I am going to take you later today.” He sounds so genuinely affronted I can’t help but laugh at him.
“Ah-ha! It’s somewhere rakish!”
Leo looks chagrined. “That is one of your questions.”
“No, it is not. It was freely offered information that I didn’t even have to work for. Now, about this rakish place—”
One of his friends saves him by appearing with a tea tray, complete with sandwiches, scones and pastries, and all the requisite tea equipment.
“Better than having one of the staff bring it. So you can have a chance to enjoy it with less chance of being thrown out,” Leo whispers in my ear.
“This is the most fun we have had in ages.” The friend lingers after he sets the tray down on a table. “But you have been having more fun than us, haven’t you?”
The man leers at me, and I’m more impressed he can be into me when I’m covered in a shapeless clock than angry. Leo wouldn’t let anything happen to me. Because he’s a good man. And because the Queen of England would be cross with him if he did.
What is my life?
“Leave. Now.” Leo sounds firmer than I’ve heard him, and I look up from pouring some tea. Because that tone is working for me. The friend backs off with a smirk, leaving us alone again. “He is more acquaintance than friend.”
We enjoy the tea for a while, Leo relaxing again to charmer and not enforcer (which also works for me, because everything about this man works for me), before we’re interrupted again. By another one of his friends, I assume, since Leo isn’t worried.
“You two might want to hurry. People are starting to get suspicious,” his friend says, then leaves us alone again.
“Oh, damn. I was hoping we would have longer,” Leo says.
My mouth is too full of scone being drowned down with tea to respond.
I hold up a finger, signaling I will answer eventually.
When I’m not busy inhaling delicious, tiny, illicit, sandwiches, made more delicious with how illicit they are, and soaking in the atmosphere that only a handful of other women have seen.
“It’s all right. This has been amazing.”
Despite the urgency of getting caught, I take the time to stuff food in my pocket and take notes. I then take a beat longer and pull Leo down to kiss him. This being one of my last days, probably my very last, with Leo, I’m not going to have many more opportunities to do this.
I’m going to miss him so much.
Leo is surprised at first, standing still and not responding to the kiss. Then he hears a noise outside the door, which spurs him into action. The action is to try to bring me in closer, just as I try to pull away and run so we don’t get caught.
Leo makes a sound of frustration but moves to the door after me. He quickly jogs in front of me and leads us out of the building, a sputtering Englishman scolding after us.
I laugh in exhilaration, making it much harder to run. We burst out into the afternoon, the cool air helping me calm down. Leo keeps us moving until we turn around the corner, collapsing against the brick wall to catch my breath.
“That was so much fun,” I wheeze out.
“Good. I am glad you enjoyed it.” Leo peeks around the corner to see if we’re being pursued. He must not see anything because he leans back against the wall with me.
“Is the next place going to involve this much crime?” I ask.
“Do you want it to include illegal acts?”
“Well, I’m already doing illegal things by lying to the crown, and we just infiltrated White’s, so maybe I should be a bit more circumspect? So as not to push it.”
“Where is the fun in that?”
Fuck it. I won’t be around long enough for all my crimes to matter. Or if I am caught, what’s one more crime to add to the list? “You’re right. I’m game for wherever you want to take me.”