Page 411 of From Rakes to Riches

“Are you sure everything is ready for the dinner party? Perhaps you need me here.”

“We can go over our final plans right now, my lady, and then you’ll be free this afternoon.”

Victoria thought of her new resolve where David was concerned. She wanted to understand everything that was important to him. “Then I’ll go to Parliament.”

That afternoon, Victoria set off with Anna, her lady’s maid, in the Banstead carriage. When they arrived at the palace yard, Victoria discovered that they needed passes to enter the ladies’ gallery. She was not giving up so easily.

She looked up at the policeman with wide eyes. “But, Officer, my name is Lady Thurlow, and I just found out that my husband, Lord Thurlow, was speaking today. We are newly married, and it would mean so much to me if you’d let us in.”

Lines of people backed up behind them, and Victoria found herself jostled. She gave the officer a helpless, pleading look, and to her relief he let them pass. She found the long staircase that led up to the ladies’ gallery, and soon she and Anna were seated in the front row, looking down at the long, tall room with green benches crowded on steep angles on both sides. Hundreds of men congregated to talk. She couldn’t see David until after the factory bill had been read, and the debate began. From his seat he was recognized, and he began to speak in a calm, forceful manner, without all the arm waving and shouting so many of the other men seemed to employ. His voice rang through the room, interrupted by occasional cheers or boos, as he spoke about the plight of women and children in the cotton mills. Victoria stared at him in shock, never having heard about sixteen-hour workdays and young children who were drugged to make their care easier.

She leaned on the balustrade, enraptured by her husband’s conviction, shocked that anyone would argue, even in the name of too much government interference. As David responded to the opposition with keen intelligence, he glanced about the room, and she knew when he saw her. He did not lose his train ofthought; he didn’t look angry with her. His gaze returned to her occasionally, and she could not look away.

Here was something else he was passionate about, something he believed in. He wanted to do good for people in worse conditions than their own, and she felt humbled that she’d narrowly escaped such a state with his help. In some ways, she had been another project he took on.

Nowhewould beherproject.

She and Anna left hours later, but long before the debates were finished. She knew not to expect him for dinner.

After her bath,David knocked on her door. She didn’t jump with nervousness, but with anticipation.

Since she was trying to find the boy she remembered, she deliberately left their tattered childhood journal out where he could see it. Would he ever write in it again, maybe sharing things he couldn’t speak?

“Come in,” she called.

When she saw David, she was disappointed that he was wearing a dressing gown again over his bare chest. He didn’t see the journal where she’d left it. But that was all right, there was time.

He walked across the room toward her, and she held her ground, her heart pumping quickly, her breathing much too fast. If she let him touch her, they’d never have a conversation. And she so wanted to understand him again.

“I saw you at the Commons,” he said. “You should have told me you wanted to come. I would have arranged everything.”

The deep voice that had held hundreds of men under its spell this afternoon could also work its magic on her.

“I didn’t know about the gallery until Mrs. Wayneflete told me.” She smiled up at him. “Ithoughtyou saw me. When I heard the duke mention your speech, I wanted to hear it.”

“I’m sorry it was so dull. Were you trapped there for very long?”

“Dull? I found it fascinating. You were very good defending the bill.”

“It has a long way to go before it’s acceptable to a majority.”

She softened her voice and chose her words carefully. “There must be many meetings outside the Commons, to learn about such things.”

“There are.”

He frowned, and she knew he didn’t understand where she was leading.

“Do the members discuss such things at social events, like you do with the railway directors?” she asked.

“I’m sure discussion goes on anywhere men congregate,” he said. “That’s why I occasionally attend my club.”

Oh well, she’d tried to be subtle, and it hadn’t worked. “We received an invitation to a dinner today being given by Mr. Dalton, the man who read your factory bill. I thought you might like to attend, since you enjoy politics so much.”

He smiled. “It’s not necessary, Victoria. I’m having luncheon with him tomorrow.”

Darn.

She accepted his response—for tonight. She would try again the next day—and the next—until he understood how important it was for him not to ignore part of his life.

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