Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter
THIRTY-SEVEN
If there was one positive of being in the chaotic circus that was called the House of Lords, it was that it gave Leo something to do other than anxiously wearing a groove in his study floor from his constant pacing.
He had paced miles since last night, probably at least a hundred of them, and no amount of pacing had calmed his anxiety any while he waited for the hands on the clock to move.
“Thank you for coming.” Lord Gray shook his hand before they took their seats. “We need all the voices of support we can get if we are ever going to get any sort of reforms through this lot.”
As the din was currently so loud in the House, Leo decided it would be a bloody miracle if any voice was heard today, but smiled politely.
“I am always happy to support a worthy cause.” And seeing as this one was Portia’s, it really didn’t get more worthy.
He glanced around all the braying lords and wondered what she would make of it.
Because if this disorganized cacophony represented the most powerful few of the pitiful three percent of the entire population considered worthy enough to have a vote, it was a wonder they still had a country left, let alone a government.
It had to change. Of that he was in no doubt.
As the Lord Chancellor entered in the traditional formal procession, the other lords finally quieted while he positioned himself on the speaker’s woolsack.
Then, as was also tradition, all hell broke loose as everyone fought for air.
It took over an hour for Lord Gray to find a gap in the noise long enough to propose his bill.
“My lords temperate, I come to you today to seek urgent reform for…” He had to really shout to list those reforms because most of the house had erupted into jeers of disapproval.
To his credit, he refused to allow them to detract him from his message and managed to get most of the salient points out in the next interminable hour before the proposal was opened up for general debate.
Just as Leo had anticipated, there was little support for the bill in the house, but he had made a promise to his wife to shout into the wind, so shout into it he would. He enthusiastically stood each time the floor was yielded, but it took another half an hour before he could be heard.
As he knew he only had a few minutes to make his point, he started with something attention-grabbing.
“The longer this house puts off reforming, the more chance there is of our country being swept by revolution. The voiceless masses are sick and tired of being ignored and, worse, bullied into submission by Draconian laws made by the privileged elite whose only purpose is to ensure that they do not have to concede even a crumb of that privilege.” That garnered a few boos, but Leo was a man on a mission and raised a righteous finger in the air, which he jabbed at the worst offenders.
“Mark my words, gentlemen, unless we extend the franchise beyond those few men lucky enough to own more than forty shillings’ worth of land—which equates to a paltry three percent of the adult population—then this house will be lucky to survive the end of the century.
” While the Whigs, who were severely outnumbered, cheered their agreement, the rest of the lords jeered.
However, as a Tory attempted to rip apart what Leo had just said, there was a commotion on the other side of the floor that seemed to draw more attention. Everyone stood to get a better view, so it took Leo a little while to catch a glimpse of it himself.
Until he saw a bedsheet sheet daubed in giant red letters that was being held in the air.
LORDS!
USE YOUR IMMENSE AND UNFAIR PRIVILEGE TO DO SOME GOOD FOR A CHANGE AND VOTE FOR
REFORM
As there was some sort of fracas going on behind that sheet, it appeared that they had a protestor on the floor. One who clearly had no right to be in the room.
Two guards had hold of the brave fool, who appeared to be putting up quite the fight. One of the guards suddenly bent as if winded and the protestor broke free. The surprisingly slight fellow then dashed toward the terrified Lord Chancellor trailing their makeshift banner behind them.
Both guards lunged, but the plucky protestor sidestepped them before either could grab him, and, in doing, lost his hat. Then the whole house erupted in outrage as a long mane of near jet-black hair tumbled to the protestor’s waist.
Hair that Leo was only too familiar with.
“It’s only a bloody woman!” exclaimed Lord Gray beside him.
“I’m afraid it’s worse than that,” said Leo as he tried to clamber over the row of seats and lords in front of him to get to her. “It’s my bloody wife!” And bugger him but he was oddly proud of her. Only Portia was fearless enough to pull off a stunt this outrageous.
He had no idea how the clever minx had managed to get in, but by the men’s attire that she was currently sporting and the ridiculous black mustache that she had glued on her lovely face, she had somehow managed it.
Although how anyone could ever confuse her for a man was laughable as aside from her hair, she filled her waistcoat and breeches far too well for there to be any doubt about her sex.
The guards had restrained her by the time he got anywhere close and were trying their best to drag her out—not that Portia was complying.
She hung like a deadweight from her captured elbows and dug her trailing heels into the floor, repeatedly shouting “Vote for reform!” as if her life depended on it right up until he skidded to a stop in front of her.
“Hello, wife.”
“Hello, husband.”
They both enjoyed the way the guards’ eyes widened at that unexpected bombshell as a million stunned whispers ricocheted around the chamber.
As her captors let her go, an unusual hush settled in this space that was rarely ever quiet as all the lords craned their ears to hear.
“What the blazes do you think you are doing?”
She stuck out her chin, defiant. “You did say that you didn’t care if I waved a placard on the floor of the House of Lords.”
“I did.” He nodded, impressed at her sheer bloody nerve, but also humbled and relieved that she was here because he recognized a challenge—and a second chance—when he saw one.
This was a test and one he could not afford to fail, no matter how much his protective instincts urged him to drag her to safety.
How he handled this situation would determine their future.
“But I feel duty bound to point out that is a sheet and not a placard.” He flicked his finger toward it, matter-of-fact.
“Semantics.” She wanted to smile. It hovered at the corners of her lips, but she suppressed it.
“I had too much to say to fit on a placard, never mind that I never would have been able to smuggle one of those in under my coat. And…” Suddenly she didn’t look so cocksure.
“I wanted categoric proof that you meant what you said.” There was hope in her lovely eyes.
Hope for him, hope for them, and that meant the world.
“Debden!” The Lord Chancellor’s voice bellowed from the woolsack. “Control your wife!”
“You control her.” Leo tossed that over his shoulder, then grinned at Portia. “I’ve given up trying.”
Her smile broke free then and he basked in it. “I very much enjoyed your essay. It wasn’t as good as one of mine, of course, but it wasn’t bad for a duke.”
He accepted that compliment with an amused nod. “I am very much enjoying your mustache but I am not sure it suits a duchess.”
“I am not a typical duchess.”
“Thank the Lord for it.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her ridiculously hairy top lip. Then for her ears only, he whispered, “Am I forgiven?”
“I suppose so.” She brushed a loving hand down his lapel. “Are you going to escort me to safety now?”
“Do you want me to?”
“I’d prefer the irony, and the publicity, of being dragged out of the building.”
“And so you should be. Heaven forbid they ever allow a woman here in Parliament. Even a duchess. Society might crumble.” Leo took a deep breath and did one of the hardest things he had ever done in his life. He stepped back. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
She beamed as she unfurled her banner again while the guards shuffled from foot to foot unsure what the hell to do next. “I was proud of you today, Leo. Even if you were shouting into the wind.”
“I am proud of you every day, my darling.” He took another step back so that she and the cause she held so dear could have their moment to shout into the wind too, but could not help being a little bit overprotective and overbearing as he passed one of the guards.
“When you drag her out, which you will very much have to because she will not leave otherwise, know that if I find one single bruise on her body, you will have me to personally answer to.”
She raised her rebellious fist to the heavens as he turned and sauntered back to his seat. “Vote for reform!” Portia’s voice echoed through the rafters. “Votes for all!”
“Will somebody get that damned woman out of here!” yelled the Lord Chancellor.
Leo heard the scuffle, but he ignored it.
She was making a stand, and it was his place as her dutiful husband to allow her to make it without interference. Especially as she seemed to be much more adept at shouting into the wind than he was.
“Leo!” He turned only because she called.
Portia was sitting on the floor, her heels squeaking loudly against the floorboards as they slid her on her bottom backward toward the door.
But she was laughing, her dark eyes dancing with affection, determination, and mirth.
Her hair was a riotous mane, and her ridiculous mustache was now skewed and making its way across her cheek.
He was going to enjoy peeling that thing off later with the rest of her clothes.
“You were right about one thing in that substandard essay that you wrote.”
“Just the one?”
She tumbled backward but still held her banner aloft as they attempted to drag her out of the chamber. “Where love is concerned, and much to my complete disgust, it turns out that dignity really is overrated!”