Page 27 of Holding Onto Love

“Crispin may prefer it overgrown,” Jasper said. One never knew with Crispin. “And how are you finding Cambridge?”

“The house is perfect for our needs.” Reg turned and smiled at his wife. “But Georgiana is overhauling it anyway. I am given to understand it is something brides do.”

Jasper wondered fleetingly if there was a nursery involved. How galling it would be if Reg sired a son before he did.

Georgiana said, “I’m so glad you’ll be coming to Alice’s ball.”

“How could I not? I’m looking forward to it.” He glanced about. “Is she here?”

“No, she went for a carriage ride with Hazard.”

“Hazard?” Jasper blinked. He understood their friend had done his part to raise Alice’s prestige and divert attention from the Jasper-Georgiana-Reginald morass, but he hadn’t realized that the two were still playing a role.

Georgiana nodded, a rather bemused look on her face. She said, “Oh, don’t ask me. I haven’t the faintest idea. Come in.” She swept her hand toward the parlor. “There is no reason to stand out in the hall.” She led the way, and Reginald fell into step alongside Jasper.

“How are you doing?” Reg asked in a lower tone.

Jasper’s heart warmed a shade, grateful to be asked. Father’s last weeks had taken a toll on them all.

“As well as can be expected.” He paused. “No, better, I suppose. Parliament is taking most of my attention.”

Sitting in Parliament was, in fact, eye-opening. For the last several years, joining in the small gatherings of peers discussing politics in Father’s home, Jasper had said little and nodded much, his opinions forming, as it were, at the old earl’s knee. He had thought Father’s stance would be easy to emulate.

“And that is a good thing?” Reg pressed, his skepticism showing.

Father had said Jasper’s guiding principle should be “Church and King.” And, when in doubt, listen to Liverpool. Unfortunately, that was proving overly simplistic. He voted Tory, of course, but had made the mistake of listening, truly listening, to the speeches on both sides. He was disturbed to find his conscience sometimes leaned Whig.

“I’m learning quite a bit.”

Reg grinned. “That is a good thing.”

Jasper laughed. For his brother, learning was not simply a good thing, it was the only thing.

They entered the parlor. There was a small, unnecessary fire in the hearth. Some people could not abide the appearance of a cold hearth even in summertime. The windows were open for the little breeze they might afford. The duchess was seated on a plush, pale blue Grecian couch. The duke rose from his straight-backed chair to greet them.

“Iversley, welcome.”

“Your Grace.” Jasper made a small bow. He bowed also to the duchess. The deuce—the last time he’d seen her had been at the wedding, where his role as best man and jilted quasi-fiancé provided elements of farce. “It is good to see you again.”

“Come in. Join us, please,” the duchess said. “Reginald says your mother and Lady Olivia are doing well?”

“They are, thank you.”

He paused a moment, considering where best to sit. He supposed he should be paying compliments to his hostess. He knew he should. He stepped toward her.

The duke crossed his path.

“Iversley, I noted with great satisfaction your applause at the end of Hazard’s speech yesterday. I daresay it was not merely a measure of your regard for our friend.”

“No. Not at all. The speech was laudable.”

It was the one Hazard had asked him to read for glaring errors. It covered the Whig’s opinion on the Leather Tax, about to be increased by a pittance.

Jasper had sided, with very little thought, with his father’s party. Yes, shoemakers would find their costs increased. And yes, they would pass the cost on to their customers. But how much? A few shillings? That would hardly send Englishmen scurrying to foreigners for what were bound to be inferior shoes. The tax increase was needed to bolster the Treasury. For the war effort. And wasn’t that the most crucial issue before them? Supporting Wellington and the troops? Supporting Crispin, with every fiber of their being?

Before the debates, the text of the speech, delivered in Jasper’s head in his friend’s usual flippant, disinterested voice, had raised interesting points but had not been persuasive. Jasper had read it mainly for the barbs, directed at certain personages, that he had known would be there. He’d been amused.

But when Hazard spoke on the floor, it was in a different voice entirely. Measured, statesmanlike oratory replaced his usual affability. Some of the jocular wording was changed: his barbs were sharp. The people affected by the tax were those who could not afford a few extra pennies. Farmers. Laborers. Their children. Saddlers and shoemakers would suffer the loss of business. And soldiers themselves would be provided inferior boots by war profiteers—a gamble of a statement given there were likely profiteers in the room.