Page 28 of The Duke of Pain

“I wish to become involved in any reforms you are working on.”

Hawkstone raised a dubious eyebrow. “You? A Rake of St. Regent’s Park? Grown tired of haunting brothels?”

“As if you never did. I’ve heard of your early exploits,” Gideon replied dryly, trying to keep his annoyance hidden.

Hawkstone leaned on his cane. “The keyword there is ‘early.’ What are you, forty-five?”

Gideon ground his teeth, fighting back a retort. “Just turned forty. Why; is it too late to give a damn? Do you treat all who approach you with genuine intent with such insult? This isn’t a game to me.”

Hawkestone’s hardened features softened, but just a little. “It is never too late to give a damn. We would welcome the assistance. It would not be of a brief duration, however. You know how long it takes to craft bills and push them through. This would be a long-term commitment.”

“I understand.”

“Is it a woman?”

Gideon was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“It is my experience that falling in love often brings about an examination of one’s soul.”

“I know you were a vicar in a previous life, but don’t start spouting bible verses at me,” Gideon retorted. “Spare me that, at least. When one starts talking of a soul, it invariably leads to religion.”

Falling in love? Was this man serious?

The viscount snorted. “I wouldn’t dream of preaching at you. My vicar days are well behind me. Whatever the reason for your turnabout, I will give you a try. Come with me now and sit in on the meeting of like-minded men. We are trying to expand workers’ rights, extending the principle of government’s responsibilities towards its citizens. Also, to see workers are compensated for injuries at work. Giving women more rights, including the vote.”

“Quite the ambitious agenda. You wish Britain to be a welfare state?”

“It is ambitious, and why not?”

Gideon sighed. “You will find me a hardline pessimist. I believe as an empire, we reached our peak last year with the Diamond Jubilee. It will all be downhill from here.”

Hawkestone placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then it is imperative we get to work and push through what we can before it all implodes.” The viscount gave him a wink, then sobered. “You may not be far off in your thinking. My fifteen-year-old son, Hayden, thinks much the same as you. By the time he inherits this title, Great Britain could very well be a different place.”

“Yes, it could.”

“Well, we won’t dwell on it any longer. I have two years before I am fifty. There is still much to accomplish, Gideon. May I call you Gideon?”

“Of course.”

“Then call me Tremain, and come along, sharply now. We have a luncheon laid out.”

Gideon followed Tremain to one of the many offices on the second floor. It was easy to become lost at Westminster with over 1100 rooms and 100 staircases to contend with.

Tremain opened the door, and sitting around a long table were men of various ages. “My lords, Your Grace, and gentlemen, this is Gideon Broyles, Duke of Watford, eager to join our efforts.”

Shouts of the affirmative greeted Gideon, along with pounding on the table. Good God, there must be close to thirty men in here; he had no idea. The room was thick with tobacco smoke and the odor of power and influence.

“Come sit by me, Watford,” Tremain urged. “I am sure you are acquainted with the Earl of Carnstone.”

Gideon sat next to the older man. The earl had just turned eighty years of age, but Aidan Wollstonecraft looked like a man close to twenty years younger.

“Yes, I am acquainted. My lord.” Gideon nodded toward the earl and glanced past him. His gaze fell on Oliver Wollstonecraft, grandson of the earl and fellow member of The Rakes of St. Regent’s Park.

“Well, damn it all. I’ve been found out,” Oliver stated drolly.

The earl laughed heartily. “During my father’s time, you would both be called rakehells, but regardless of your extracurricular activities, we accept your assistance, nonetheless. Shall we get down to business?”

For once in his miserable life, Gideon felt a surge of purpose move through him. And he mentally kicked himself for not doing this sooner.