I must stop now because the amendment will be introduced in two days’ time, and I haven’t convinced half the men we need on our side yet.
London, October 5th
The lobbying continues to be as tedious and painful as pulling teeth. Ballentine is helping me by way of shady maneuvering, but after the liberals’ recent shift into power, it seems the conservative MPs we require for a sound majority are doubly stubborn on the issue.
London, October 7th
I am still too furious to write much—you probably saw it in the papers: we lost! The text has been rejected soundly! And the entire Home Rule Party voted against us; bloody hypocrites—independence for them only, it seems …
Heat, then cold, washed over her. “Oh no,” she said, “oh no.”
“Is anything the matter?” Lucian and Mr. Matthews were watching her, alarmed.
She tried for a neutral expression. “Some unfortunate news from my friend,” she said, “nothing too serious.”
She ate her meal, but she could barely swallow. They had lost, again. Lucie had to be crushed. And she, Hattie, was the worst—she hadn’t properly thought of the amendment introduction in days—she had been too busy frolicking in the nude.
She managed to last through long minutes of stuffing the heavy food down her throat and listening to Mr. Matthews make small talk about London, the latest gossip, the weather there … unbearable, when one’s right to remain a person after marriage had just been pushed down the list again.
Lucian knew his wife was deeply troubled despite the polite front she put on, and he followed her to their room instead of going over his white paper on the income tax reform.
She stood at the window with her back turned.
“What is it?” he demanded.
She faced him, her fingers against her lips. “They rejected the text for the Married Women’s Property Act amendment.”
“I see.” He had been unaware the amendment had been introduced.
“You don’t understand,” she said shakily. “The Duke of Montgomery wrote the text—his bills always get passed—always.”
“Hasn’t he made a crowd of enemies since he married his mistress and switched sides this spring?”
Harriet went red in the face. “She wasn’t his mistress. Besides, the liberals have the majority in the House, and he left the Tories—none of them want us to be people.” She was pacing, her hands on her cheeks. “It was only the First Reading,” she murmured, “there will be the Second Reading.”
“So not all’s lost,” he ventured.
She looked at him bleakly. “No,” she said. “There’s a committee stage, the report stage … a Third Reading—it will take a year or two, of course, if the first text is already rejected. But yes, there is hope.” She attempted a smile, and it was a gut-wrenching sight. He was mentally listing the members of Parliament and Cabinet he had in his pocket, via either debt, or greed, or incriminating personal information. If he could force improved workers’ rights, he could try to force women’s rights, too.
Harriet was mumbling again. “Of course, the House of Commons could then still turn it down after the Third Reading—”
“Right,” he heard himself say. “Let’s … let’s have an excursion.”
She stopped in her tracks. “An excursion—when?”
“How about now?”
“Now! To where?”
“The Highlands.”
“I don’t understand.”
Neither did he, but he knew he hated seeing her in distress; it made him want to take action. “You once said looking at mountains lifts the spirit.” He glanced at his pocket watch. “It’s just past eight o’clock. We could be in Auchtermuchty at half past nine and take a ten o’clock train.”
Her eyes began to shine despite herself at the prospect of an adventure. “But the railway tracks are flooded.”
“The southbound ones.”
“I hadn’t realized we were near the Highlands.”
“It’s a good sixty miles to Lochnagar,” he admitted, “and we’d arrive well past lunchtime. But we could stay in an inn, in Braemar, for the night.”
She seemed hesitant, but then she straightened her shoulders. “Very well.”
Unexpectedly, the prospect of seeing the mountains heated his chest as if a beacon fire had been lit inside. He cleared his throat. “Good,” he said. “You’ll meet some proper Scots, then.”