Page 47 of Everything But the Earl
Grace laughed. “If only.”
It was odd to reflect on that, though. Grace had spent so much time alone when she was in London, and now here, in Wales, it felt decidedly different. She dropped in on Gwen sometimes just to have tea together. She had regular dinners with Morfudd. She’d been teaching Catrin Davies how to do some basics with clay. And now she had a house full of guests. She was more social now than she’d ever been before, despite being so far from London. And she liked it. But it was different than the life she’d known back in London.
“I’m having fun,” Grace assured Penny. “But I will sleep for three days after you all leave.”
Penny laughed. “And it will be much deserved.”
*
All year, therehad been a series of rebellions in which textile workers, worried about being replaced by machines, had destroyed the machines. They called themselves Luddites, after the legendary figure of Ned Ludd, someone Owen didn’t think had actually existed but who had allegedly broken a loom in protest or something. Owen could never remember the details.
The problem, of course, was that the machines could weave fabricmuch faster than humans could, so textile manufacturers—some of whom Owen had worked with—did in fact want to replace their workers with machines. Owen understood that. Why wouldn’t you want to make fabric faster and cheaper?
He felt bad for the workers who were losing their jobs, too. But he didn’t think destroying expensive machines was the answer.
The other problem Owen was having now was that Parliament was still in session deciding what to do about the rebellions, and all Owen wanted to do was go home to his wife.
It was a very odd position to be in, especially since Grace was several days’ journey away, and he hadn’t expected to miss her so much. But every time she sent him a letter, he felt like he could hear her voice again.
They’d talked about this. It was what they wanted. Owen couldn’t let himself get distracted.
“It’s quaint that you think you can compromise,” said a voice standing near where Owen sat in the sitting room outside Lords.
Owen looked up. Lord Edgerton and the Earl of Canbury stood over him. Canbury nervously worried a piece of paper in his hand.
Owen tried to remember which bit of legislation Edgerton had most favored. He tended to side with the Prince Regent, so he was likely discussing the roads. Owen’s secretary had been circulating a proposal to fix the existing roads rather than create new ones, and this was likely the thing Edgerton was most likely upset about.
“You’ll have to be more specific,” Owen said. “I’m currently working on several important pieces of legislation.”
“You think you can fill in a few holes in London’s major thoroughfares and call it an accomplishment?”
It was the roads, then. “It’s cruel to remove people from their homes just because Prinny wants a more direct route to the very expensive waste of money he calls a house.”
Canbury seemed to fret at this. He’d always been a bootlicker,constantly seeking favor from the Crown.
Owen felt bad for his opinion of Canbury, especially now that the man’s daughter was married to Hugh. Then again, he supposed having one’s daughter find a good marriage was not enough to change one’s temperament. Canbury was powerful because he had the ear of the Prince Regent, but he had a lot of enemies, too. Owen had never taken him too seriously. But Edgerton usually had more sense. Owen couldn’t comprehend why he was being so blunt now.
“Your bill is dead,” Edgerton said. “We’re approving the new road in exchange for the Crown foregoing asking us for more money for his home in Bath.”
“Do we not have more pressing matters than whether Prinny gets his road?” asked Owen. He held up the sheaf of paper he’d been reading. “These are letters from several textile manufacturers imploring me to do something about the protests.”
“What are we to do about angry men?” asked Edgerton.
“Seems like a job for Commons,” said Canbury.
Owen stood, not enjoying having other men stand over him. “I do not understand why you bother to attend if you think you have no role in the government.”
“Of course we have a role,” said Canbury.
“But Edgerton would just as soon we hand over all of our funds to the Prince Regent so that he can spend them as he pleases.”
“Not as he pleases. I made a more viable compromise than fixing the roads. What do you intend to do?”
“It would have cost less money to hire some street cleaners. Now a hundred people will need to find new homes, for no clear reason, and we have to build a new road from scratch. All so one man has a more direct route from one grand palace to another.”
“You are far too compassionate, Caernarfon. And besides, don’t you own several grand estates? You are hardly in a position to judge.”
“Perhaps not, but I am also not arguing that we should tear downhouses, where peoplelivein order to build a road over them! This new road is intended to help one man. Why can’t we do something that helps more than the man who is spending our treasury’s money onnonsense.”
