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Chapter Two
Lady Rose Vaughan, daughter of the Earl of Somerholm, stood in her father’s study reviewing a paper that had been published by the Marquess of Walsrock.
The paper basically detailed his political views and ideals on sensitive issues ranging from poverty alleviation programs to taxation.
She had stumbled on it when she came into the study to look for her father. Apparently, he had been reading it and left it poking from amongst the books on his shelf, which was what had drawn her attention.
Instead of walking out of the study to continue looking for her father, she’d turned and pulled the paper from the shelf.
She didn’t bother to sit because she needed to shelve the paper and dash out of the study at the first sign of danger, the danger being either of her parents approaching the study.
Her mother would have strongly disapproved of her reading about such matters. These things should not be Rose’s concern, who instead should be preparing for the ball that was happening in a fortnight. She could even hear her mother’s voice in her head if that happened.
Bluestocking daughter of mine. God forbid you continue to resist my efforts and turn out to be an ape-leader.
Her father, on the other hand, wasn’t as absorbed with her getting married as her mother was. In any case, he already had a male heir. Any further anxiety he showed toward getting her wedded was brought on by her mother’s worrying.
His only issue was with Rose’s differing views on politics, something he already blamed himself for. Not her views, but the fact that she had an interest in politics in the first place.
Ever since she was a child, she had stuck tightly to him, preferring his company over that of anyone else. As a result, she’d picked up his penchant for reading and that included books and newspapers. She’d also stuck close enough to always be within earshot of her father’s political conversations, so much so that she’d begun to develop an interest in the topic.
At an early age, Rose had developed an interest in political topics, and she had read enough to have her own opinions.
In reality, Rose was excited about the ball that her mother had decided to throw, even though she knew that the real reason for the ball was yet another of her mother’s attempts to find her a suitor.
She’d always loved the London Season. She was not only thrilled at the opportunity to wear her new gowns, but also to meet new people all through the season. Her schedule followed a carefully drafted social calendar that her mother always prepared at the beginning of the season.
In spite of her enthusiasm at the beginning of each season, her mother, and to some extent, some of her peers, always succeeded in dampening the mood for her, season after season, by turning it into an engagement race. Sometimes she had considered going into the season and just choosing the first suitor that came after her, just to pacify her mother and get her off her back. And yet, season after season, she found that she couldn’t get herself to settle for just anyone.
And here she was at twenty, in yet another London season and she was still single and not betrothed. She sighed and heaved her chest at the futility of the whole exercise and pushed it to the back of her mind. There was no use getting sullen on the eventual outcome of the new season when it had only just begun. She reminded herself to have a good outlook and expectation of the future.
For now, however, the future and the current season should be the furthest thing from her mind, as what she was reading began to entrance her.
The Marquess of Walsrock, right!She exclaimed in silent admiration as she continued to ravenously pour through the contents of the publication.
She’d heard about the Marquess of Walsrock on numerous occasions. How could she not? After all, he was her father’s fiercest opponent. The Marquess’ political views were literally the puns and the crux of many a joke in the Somerholm household, to everyone except Rose. She’d always wondered at his ideals that seemed to have the rest of London up in fits of outrage. Slowly, that wonder had turned to interest in getting to understand these ideals. Eventually, she found that she shared similar views with her father’s political opponent and had, in fact, risen up in defense of the Marquess’ ideals on many occasions, to the consternation of her father.
And now, stumbling upon yet another of his published papers, she wondered why the rest of London was finding it so difficult to understand and accept the Marquess’ ideals.
They are brilliant. Revolutionary, even.
And yet, thetonhad literally refused to give a listening ear to his ideals.
Why would they? The entitled and self-aggrandized lot.
She’d never hidden her disgust and disapproval of how London’s upper echelon of society conducted themselves. From infancy, she’d always been close to the servants in her father’s manor and had over time, learned to see her kind through the eyes of the commoners.
She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth softly, in un-lady like fashion, one that would have earned her a stern look from her mother if Lady Somerholm was in close vicinity.
Mother’s skin is most certainly itching by now.
She needed to be done and out of here in a jiffy.
She flipped the paper and continued reading, finding herself nodding in agreement at intervals. Somehow, the Marquess’ words and arguments had drawn her in, so much so that she had ceased to pay attention to her immediate surroundings and the initial side mission of listening for danger.
“There she is, diamond of the first water. Does Mother know that you are in here?”
Her brother’s voice startled her.
