AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Fitz was still annoyed about this. "But the Lords exist to scrutinize the decisions of the Commons, and to curb their excesses. Surely this was an exemplary case!"
"If we had voted down the bill, I believe the Commons would have taken umbrage and sent it back to us again. "
Fitz shrugged. "We've had that kind of dispute before. "
"But unfortunately the Bryce Committee is sitting. "
"Oh!" Fitz had not thought of that. The Bryce Committee was considering the reform of the House of Lords. "So that was it?"
"They're due to report shortly. We can't afford a stand-up fight with the Commons before then. "
"No. " With great reluctance, Fitz had to concede the point. If the Lords made a serious attempt to defy the Commons, Bryce might recommend curbing the power of the upper chamber. "We might have lost all our influence-permanently. "
"That is precisely the calculation that led me to abstain. "
Sometimes Fitz found politics depressing.
Peel, the butler, brought Curzon a cup of coffee, and murmured to Fitz: "Dr. Mortimer is in the small study, my lord, awaiting your convenience. "
Fitz had been worrying about Boy's stomachache, and welcomed the interruption. "I'd better see him," said Fitz. He excused himself and went out.
The small study was furnished with pieces that did not fit anywhere else in the house: an uncomfortable Gothic carved chair, a Scottish landscape no one liked, and the head of a tiger Fitz's father had shot in India.
Mortimer was a competent local physician who had a rather too confident air, as if he thought his profession made him in some way the equal of an earl. However, he was polite enough. "Good evening, my lord," he said. "Your son has a mild gastric infection which will most likely do him no harm. "
"Most likely?"
"I use the phrase deliberately. " Mortimer spoke with a Welsh accent that had been moderated by education. "We scientists deal always in probabilities, never certainties. I tell your miners that they go down the pit every morning knowing there will probably be no explosion. "
"Hmm. " That was not much comfort to Fitz. "Did you see the princess?"
"I did. She, too, is not seriously ill. In fact she is not ill at all, but she is giving birth. "
Fitz leaped up. "What?"
"She thought she was eight months pregnant, but she miscalculated. She is nine months pregnant, and happily will not continue pregnant many more hours. "
"Who is with her?"
"Her servants are all around her. I have sent for a competent midwife, and I myself will attend the birth if you so wish. "
"This is my fault," Fitz said bitterly. "I should not have persuaded her to leave London. "
"Perfectly healthy babies are born outside London every day. "
Fitz had a feeling he was being mocked, but he ignored it. "What if something should go wrong?"
"I know the reputation of your London doctor, Professor Rathbone. He is of course a physician of great distinction, but I think I can safely say that I have delivered more babies than he has. "
"Miners' babies. "
"Indeed, most of them; though at the moment of birth there is no apparent difference between them and the little aristocrats. "
Fitz was being mocked. "I don't like your cheek," he said.
Mortimer was not intimidated. "I don't like yours," he said. "You've made it clear, without even a semblance of courtesy, that you consider me inadequate to treat your family. I will gladly take my leave. " He picked up his bag.
Fitz sighed. This was a foolish quarrel. He was angry with the Bolsheviks, not with this touchy middle-class Welshman. "Don't be a fool, man. "
