As the Lord Chancellor entered in the traditional formal procession, the other lords finally quieted while he positioned himselfon 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 wascomplying. 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 muchenjoyed 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?”
