Chapter Twelve
Jonathan’s Coffee-House in Change Alley was bustling with its usual morning traffic. As soon as Ralston entered, the scent of roasting beans made his mouth water. He was to meet Adler here. Spoons clinked against porcelain cups and newspapers rustled as Ralston made his way through the crowd.
He sat at a table near the window waiting for his friend for their weekly meet. He glanced outside where a brewery cart clattered over the cobblestones.
Adler arrived soon after and took the seat across from him.
A server arrived, balancing a pewter tray, and placed two cups of coffee before them.
Steam curled upward as Ralston picked up his cup.
He preferred the drink here over the tea served in Mayfair and Picadilly drawing rooms. Adler reached for the sugar tongs and dropped two cubes into his drink.
Ralston preferred his black and unsweetened, savoring the dark brew.
‘The first reading of your bill should have been a formality,’ Adler said as he leaned forward. ‘But Lord Weber overstepped.’
Ralston’s mouth was grim. ‘He did. But in hindsight he did me a favor. Now I have a better understanding of his argument and the others who will align with him.’
Adler nodded. ‘He claims limiting child labor is too costly.’
Ralston’s lip curled. ‘Costly for whom? The mill owners who I suspect are lining his pockets?’
‘Either way, Weber’s a formidable force. You need to persuade the members who are on the fence.’
‘Lord Barnes is one.’ Ralston rubbed his chin with a thumb and forefinger. ‘You had mentioned he’s wavering.’
Adler nodded. ‘I overheard him speaking to Sir Reynolds at White’s. He didn’t speak against the bill. Rather, he called it morally overdue.’
Ralston’s interest flared at the news as he sipped his brew. ‘Then he’s an ally. I need more of those.’
‘You should expect fierce argument at the second reading of the bill.’ A breeze passed through the coffee house as the door swung open. Adler glanced over towards the door then back. ‘Meanwhile, I arranged for another to meet us here.’
‘Who?’ Ralston asked.
‘His Grace, the new Duke of Huntington.’
Ralston arched an eyebrow. ‘He recently inherited the dukedom after the passing of his father. He’s young and ambitious.
’ There were other rumors about the Duke.
That he’d been a young libertine when he’d left London for the Continent and only returned when he’d learned of his father’s passing.
Ralston was never one to pay attention to gossip, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the Duke had changed his rakish ways.
The Duke was tall with dark hair and green eyes.
His cravat was crisply tied and his navy coat finely tailored.
At first glance, he looked barely thirty, perhaps five years younger than Ralston, but he carried himself with assurance and confidence.
Upon inheriting the title, he was known as an eligible bachelor.
‘Your Grace,’ Ralston said, gesturing to an empty chair. ‘Please join us.’
‘I cannot stay. I’ve an appointment with my father’s solicitor. But I wished to introduce myself.’ He nodded politely. ‘Adler and I met already at Brooke’s.’
‘Our condolences on your father’s passing.’ Ralston recalled that Huntington’s father had been an avid gambler and often missed House sessions.
A brief shadow passed over Huntington’s face. ‘Thank you.’
‘I understand you have been inquiring about my sponsored bill.’
‘I have. I support it,’ Huntington said. ‘But I have also been approached by those who do not.’
Ralston gave a knowing glance. ‘I can only guess.’
The Duke didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.
‘I’m well aware that my father had a certain…reputation as well as sporadic attendance in the House,’ the Duke said. ‘But I take my participation and vote seriously.’
Adler gave a brief nod. ‘Good to hear.’
‘I must take my leave,’ Huntington said, ‘but before I go—your fiercest opponent just walked in.’
Ralton’s gaze snapped to the door to see Lord Weber at the entrance. His eyes scanned the room, looking for someone, then landed on them. The Duke turned to leave and waved on his way out the door.
Lord Weber approached through the tables to halt by theirs. ‘Ralston. Adler.’
‘Weber,’ Ralston replied curtly.
‘Were you two talking politics with the new Duke of Huntington?’ Weber asked.
Ralston raised his cup. ‘Just sharing a cup of coffee. And you? Are you here to meet a mill-house owner or two?’
Weber’s smile did not reach his eyes. ‘Your weakness is showing, Ralston. Your bill is nothing but sentimental drivel, and you know it.’
Ralston wanted to argue with the man but he knew better than to show emotion or to lash out.
That was precisely what Weber wanted. No, the bill meant too much to Ralston and he wouldn’t appear as if he had no control over himself.
He eyed his opponent, and chuckled. ‘Why do you hate children, Weber?’
‘I don’t hate them,’ Weber said tersely, ‘I believe they should work.’
Ralston leaned forward. Weber, like himself, came from a world of privilege.
The difference was Weber refused to acknowledge it or to use his influence to do any good.
‘Work or labor until they die young? There’s a difference between employment and losing a hand or being crushed in weaving machinery before their ninth birthday. ’
Weber scoffed. ‘You always were too easy on the purse, especially when it’s the Crown’s.’
Ralston’s tone sharpened. ‘The Crown’s? Aren’t the mill owners padding your purse to vote against the bill?’ Ralston would not take hush money from the mills, whereas Weber welcomed it.
‘I relish your demise on the debate floor, Ralston,’ Weber said.
‘I relish your expression when my bill comes to pass,’ Ralston said.
Weber turned on his heel and joined a table of other men in the corner of the room.
Adler exhaled and whistled between his teeth. ‘Why argue with the man? You’ll never change his vote.’
Ralston scrubbed a hand down his face. Despite his resolve not to engage with Weber, his control had slipped a notch. ‘He agitates me.’
‘He wanted to agitate you.’ Adler set down his cup. ‘You have to keep a level head for your upcoming debate.’
Ralston let out a long sigh. ‘You’re right.’ He knew his friend spoke the truth, and Ralston had intended to keep his emotions guarded. But there was something about Adler that got under his skin.
‘Go home to your wife,’ Adler advised. ‘Spend time together and enjoy being a newlywed couple.’
At the mention of his wife, a different type of frustration rose within his gut.
He didn’t want to go into detail with his friend.
He was still navigating his own relationship with Nora and giving her time to adjust to marriage.
He would never bang on her door and demand his rights.
He wouldn’t even use a master key. He wanted her to want him.
Their shared kiss was fresh in his mind.
She’d been excited about the microscope and happy when he’d shown her the designated room for her work.
She’d hugged him out of gratitude and how had he responded?
Like a starved man and kissed her. She’d been soft, enticing, and passionately responsive. What had happened to his restraint?
He had little when it came to his wife. He’d never forget her look of wonder when he’d gifted her a simple, empty chamber.
When she’d looked up at him, he’d sworn he’d seen longing in the green depths of her eyes.
Her face had been flushed with happiness.
He wondered again at her not having that support earlier in her life.
He relished his ability to give it to her now.
He wanted to make her happy, wanted to have her kiss him again with eager passion.
What the hell was wrong with him? What about his vowed restraint? A fierce longing after a fervent kiss resulting from gratitude was not how he would achieve a marriage of convenience.
Adler gave him the knowing look of a long-time friend. ‘You’re thinking of Margaret, aren’t you?’
Once more, his agitation arose at the mention of his past. It was a prickly subject, and he’d shoved it behind him. ‘Don’t be an idiot. I haven’t thought of Margaret in a long time.’
‘Not Margaret in general, but the damage she did. You don’t want to risk your heart.’
His friend had hit a nerve. It was true. He would never risk heartbreak again. Trust was not easily earned, and love was for fools. Rather than argue with his friend, he went on the offense. ‘You’re one to talk. You’ve had a string of mistresses and balk at the mention of love.’
‘Precisely. Listen to me.’ Adler pointed to his chest. ‘You can forgot the past and focus on the future. It will help you think clearly when it does come time to debate.’
Once again, he vividly recalled Nora flinging herself into his arms. His friend was wrong.
Nora was a distraction that he couldn’t afford.
His bill and the upcoming debate had been the focus of his attention long before she’d entered his life.
Their arrangement had not changed. He’d best remember that fact.
Nora lifted the brass knocker on the Picadilly townhouse door. She no longer had the key to her childhood home and waited anxiously for the butler, housekeeper, or another staff member to appear. Just as she reached for the knocker a second time, the door opened.
‘Miss Nora!’ A tall, thin butler with greying hair and age spots on his hands stood in the doorway. He gave her a sheepish smile. ‘My apologies, Lady Ralston.’
Nora stepped inside the vestibule. ‘No apologies needed, Dodd. It’s wonderful to see you.’ The butler had been hired by their father and had served the family for years. ‘Are my sisters present?’
‘They are in the drawing room. I shall tell them you are here.’
‘That’s not necessary.’ She smiled at him. ‘I want to surprise them.’ Nora hurried down the hall, a sense of excitement rising within her. Even though she’d only been married a week, she had missed her sisters. She pushed open the drawing room door.