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There was a news article loaded on the phone. The headline saidDuke of Cumbria Resigns from Arts Education Select Committee, Joins Arts for All Campaign.
The Duke of Cumbria, Leopold Orton-Grey, has resigned from the House of Lords Education Select Committee calling the controversial arts reform bill “inexcusable in any form” in what will be a dramatic blow to the government’s plans to reduce school arts funding.
The respected peer said in his resignation letter that the bill was “abhorrent in its very conception” and must not be passed. “I cannot in good faith remain impartial while scrutinising this shameful bill. Art is the closest thing we have to magic. I will not stand by and see it stolen from our children.”
Pea looked up from the phone to Leo, who regarded her nervously. She sniffed and blinked back tears.
“You said you would open my eyes,” said Leo. “You did.”
“This is just… Leo…”
“My charitable foundation will help fund a national after-school arts club. Even if the bill passes, children will be able to access free art materials. Your brother is donating too, and the new Marchioness. And you can hold your exhibition here, in the orangery, in the castle. You can do whatever you want, anywhere you want. I will make it happen. I am completely in your corner, Pea, I am on your side one-hundred percent—”
He took the phone from her and tossed it aside, holding both her hands in his. “I choose you. I choose to be us, Leo and Pea, together. I refuse to waste another second of my life not having you, not being with you—”
He broke off, too emotional to continue. Pea couldn’t speak either. She kissed his hands instead and moved to sit astride his lap so that she could put her arms around his neck and kiss his beautiful, wonderful mouth.
A hefty knock at the door made them both jump.
“Count? You in there? Kethnick said you were.”
Pea and Leo stared at each other in mutual, slightly hysterical horror. It was Edward.
“He sounds drunk,” Pea whispered, climbing off Leo’s lap.
“Count, wake up,” called Edward, banging heartily on the door again. “I need to speak to you. I think I’m going to ask her to marry me. I know it’s only been a month, and I’mspectacularlydrunk right now, but I don’t think I can stop myself. Count! Come on, man. I need to talk to you. Tell me what to do.”
Leo met Pea’s wide-eyed look with one of his own. He got out of bed and hurried to a chair where he picked up a pair of pyjama trousers and pulled them on. They were black and hung extremely low on his muscular hips. Pea decided there and then that he would have to live in them forever.
She wriggled down under the bedcovers, pulling them high around her neck as Leo crossed the room and opened the door.
Edward stumbled a step into the room and held on to the door frame for support. “There you are,” he said, poking Leo accusingly in his bare chest. “Tell me what to do, Count. Tie me up. Lock me in. Because she deserves so much better than me drunkenly proposing right now—”
“Call him Leo,” said Pea from the bed. “He hates that nickname.”
Edward glanced over at her. “Oh, hi, sis.” Then his green eyes narrowed, and he looked from her to Leo and back again before scrubbing a hand through his wavy hair and down his face. “Hang on a minute…”
“It’s not what it looks like,” said Leo calmly. Pea shot him a frown. Surely he wasn’t going to deny it now, after everything?
“It looks like you’re sleeping with my sister,” said Edward.
“It does,” agreed Leo, “but actually I’m sleeping with the new Duchess of Cumbria.” He looked at her and winked,winked, while her heart turned over in her chest and she stupidly, embarrassingly, began to cry.
Typical Pea.
“I’ve loved her for fifteen years, Edward,” said Leo softly but firmly. “I’m not sorry.”
Edward regarded his old friend for a while then looked over at Pea. “You’re happy, Pea? Despite the crying, I mean.”
“Beyond happy,” she managed to say.
“Well then,” said Edward, beginning to smile. “How about, instead of Count, I call himbrother.”
