Page 29 of The Secret Identity of the Lord's Aide
Bess paused for perhaps a bit too long before answering. When she did, she felt her voice was far away from her body—like a string. “I suppose you shouldn’t rule out any option at all,” she said. “You’ll be in Parliament, after all. You’ll require a decent wife at your side.”
“Well, I certainly can’t imagine holding a conversation with any of those know-nothing girls. Girls who could never possibly impress me,” Lord Linfield said, tilting his head. Again, he seemed to hold Bess’s eyes for a moment too long.
“You can’t think they’re all alike,” Bess said. She felt flushed. Did she look it? “Each speaks three or four languages. Can paint, play piano, recite poetry. How could you not fall for one of them?” She swallowed sharply, feeling pained.
She was describing herself. All the long hours she’d spent in front of her piano, her fingers tracing the keys. Now, what did she have to show for it? Certainly not a husband.
When she and Irene sat in the carriage, which clunked along to their London home—deep in the grisly streets of what was a neighbourhood of refugees and poor people—Bess found herself bleary-eyed over the news of Nathaniel’s impending ball.
“You’re awfully quiet.” Irene sighed, tossing her head against the back of her seat.
“I’m not,” Bess said, sounding stubborn, even in her own ears.
“You are,” Irene stated. “It’s because you’re falling for him. I can see it written all over your face.”
“I’m not!” Bess said, her voice breaking.
“It’s all right.” Irene paused for a moment. “Just make sure it doesn’t affect your writing.”
“As if it could ever possibly,” Bess said, frowning. “You know my writing is the only thing I truly care about in this world. Even if I felt a glimmer, a momentary glimmer of feelings for our Lord Linfield, it’s not as though I would act upon it. He’s an intelligent man. A man of strong moral compass. But perhaps he’s right that he belongs deep in the woods, rather than on any seat at Parliament. Certainly, he doesn’t seem the kind of man a woman can hold the attention of.”
“If that’s what you wish to tell yourself,” Irene said, giving Bess a cutting smile. “Then I’ll go along with it, too.”
Of course, Bess was unable to sleep that night. She ached with memory of the burning in Lord Linfield’s eyes. It seemed to tell her something about the inner workings of his soul. Something he could never translate in his little notes he gave her, the notes she was meant to patch together to create a speech.
Chapter 14
The following day’s speech occurred beneath a blanket of rain-clogged clouds. The event manager recited disgruntled words to Lord Linfield, just moments before his speech. “We don’t have much time before this rain collapses down upon us. Better make it good before we all run inside.”
Richard reached into his pocket and drew out a handkerchief, slotting it over his nose and letting out an outlandish blow. Nathaniel chuckled, making Richard look at him with large, confused eyes. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing, Richard,” Lord Linfield said. He clapped his hand atop Richard’s shoulder, shrugging. “You know, it really means a lot that you come out to these speeches with me. It’s like having a piece of my father here with me, each time.”
“It’s my honour to see you like this,” Richard said. He wadded up his kerchief, looking terribly serious. “You know that I would do anything for you, sir. Anything at all.”
Lord Linfield addressed the crowd using as many of the skills Lady Elizabeth had taught him. He forced himself to keep his chin up, to use his hands—to slam his fist against the podium when something was particularly emotional and charged. The mouths of the people in the crowd hung open, in shock at this more volatile version of Lord Linfield.
Midway through his speech, Nathaniel spotted Lady Elizabeth in the crowd. Unfortunately, the moment he spotted her, his tongue flubbed a bit. His eyes held onto hers—so much larger than anyone else’s in the crowd, it seemed. He felt he was suddenly tossing, lost at sea. Where on earth was he in the speech? He shuffled the papers on the podium, stuttering. But Lady Elizabeth gave him a single, firm nod, one that told him he could do it. He could do anything.
As she’d instructed him, Lord Linfield inhaled, and then exhaled, feeling his heart fall back to normal beating. After a heavy blink, he said, “So, as I was saying,” and fell back into the pattern of the speech. Within moments, nobody in the speech remembered the gap in time. Nobody knew he’d made a mistake.
After the speech, Lord Linfield half-expected Lady Elizabeth to come to find him to the side of the podium. But instead, several of his father’s friends bombarded him again, patting him on the back.
“You can’t imagine how thrilled I am to see you come into your oratorical skills,” one man said, making his jowls shake with his excitement. “Really, you must be the biggest grace given to the Tory party.”
“Thank you, sir. Sir Isaac, yes?” Lord Linfield said, forcing himself to return to those lost memories.
The old man stretched his eyebrows high, creating stacks of wrinkles on his forehead. “Why yes, indeed!” he said. “I’m surprised you remember, my boy. You mustn’t have been more than a teenager. Always out in the woods, your father said. Always out with your dog, hunting. Fishing. He wasn’t worried about you, no. Not like your mother was. Rather, he said it seemed you knew more of the world because you could be quiet in it.” Sir Isaac paused for a moment, twirling the very bottom of his white beard with a stumpy finger.
“I remember those long nights. Listening to the lulling voices of you and my father downstairs, while my mother forced me to go to sleep,” Lord Linfield said. He bit his bottom lip, willing himself not to feel the crashing emotion, the ache of missing his father.
“He’d be proud of you, son. He’d be terribly proud.”
Richard mentioned Lady Elizabeth in the carriage back to the estate. “I’m sure she doesn’t want to give away her identity, showing the world that she knows you,” he said, without prompting.
It seemed it was clear that Lord Linfield was quiet due to his missing of Lady Elizabeth. He shifted in his seat, making his voice deep. “I know that perfectly well,” he said, although he didn’t. Not fully. In his mind, shouldn’t a woman like that be grateful to appear beside him?
“Regardless, she really gave you something to work with, didn’t she?” Richard said. “I noticed such a difference in your mannerisms, sir, if it’s not too bold to say.”
