As they neared the Grosvenor Gate, he looked ahead and, through the trees, studied the graceful bulk of Alverton House. They’d been speaking of their childhoods; was there an opening there for him to mention his parents’ marriage and how his view of it had colored his own expectations of the married state?
He glanced at Therese’s face—at the relaxed pleasure infusing her features—and decided that such a revelation was too difficult, too deeply personal to introduce at that point.
As it happened, I thought my parents’ love-match of a marriage was a disaster, at least for my father, so I decided that such a marriage was the last sort of relationship I would ever engage in. But…
Lips firming, he looked ahead. No, this was definitely not the time.
His success to date—steady and sure—confirmed that his best way forward was to focus on the present and what he wanted for their future and, at least for now, to leave the past well alone.
The dinner that evening at Fortescue House was a must-attend event for both Devlin and Therese. While Devlin stood beside Therese in the Fortescues’ overly ornate drawing room and, with one corner of his mind, paid attention to the conversation of the group he and she had joined, the better part of his faculties were employed in scanning the room and assessing the social and, more importantly, political implications of who was there.
Thankfully, neither the Prime Minister nor his nemesis, Palmerston, was present. Russell’s ministry stood on shaky ground, and more often than not, it was the ambitious and headstrong Palmerston behind the quaking.
The Marquess of Lansdowne, President of the Council and Leader of the House of Lords, was chatting to Grey, the Home Secretary, and Auckland, the First Lord of the Admiralty. Noting that he had caught Devlin’s attention, Lansdowne nodded. Devlin nodded back, subtly agreeing to have a word with the marquess at some point. Although getting on in years, Lansdowne was one of the longest-serving parliamentarians and, as one of the most senior Whigs, tended to keep an eye on those younger peers, such as Devlin, who had similar legislative concerns.
There were a few other cabinet ministers present, along with several secretaries and undersecretaries. Devlin was aware that his and Therese’s inclusion on Lady Fortescue’s guest list was due to both their social prominence and his standing as a nobleman with a real interest in the political issues of the day and the furthering of the same, yet with no ambition to wield power directly, at least not for the foreseeable future.
His was a vote many in the various parties and factions saw value in courting.
It didn’t hurt that other members in both the Lords and the Commons had taken to following his lead.
While he was willing to actively support those causes he deemed worthy—popular education, for one—he was leery over joining any of the established factions, preferring, like Lansdowne, to make up his own mind.
In that, perhaps unsurprisingly, he was strongly supported by Therese. Devlin doubted she’d ever done anything other than make up her own mind about any issue in her life.
Consequently, she stood beside him and aided and abetted him in observing and eliciting opinions from all those with whom they spoke.
She’d done so previously, in similar situations, yet tonight, she seemed…more focused. More transparently, more openly acting to further his interests.
When they parted from one group, before they joined the next, she tipped her head his way and murmured, “When do you think to speak with Lansdowne?” She glanced at him. “I assume you wish to.”
He met her eyes and nodded. “But it might be more useful if we approach him after dinner. By then, he’ll have had time to digest what he’s extracted from Grey and Auckland.”
She nodded in agreement, then surprised him by leaning closer and quietly asking, “Is Palmerston likely to bring down Russell?”
She’d picked that up, had she? Devlin dipped his head to murmur, “I would say it’s very likely.”
“With the only question being not if but when?” She met his eyes. “That’s certainly what I’ve sensed from most of those we’ve spoken with tonight.”
Interesting.But he merely nodded as they neared another group of political and social mavens.
On reaching the far end of the room, Devlin glanced over the heads of those they’d already spent time with and was surprised and a touch intrigued to discover that Child had joined the gathering.
As far as he knew, his childhood friend and present-day nemesis had never had the slightest interest in politics.Maybe Child’s years away have given him a deeper insight.
Devlin returned his attention to the ongoing discussion of the blight of continuing slavery in some of the far-flung sections of the empire.
“And from what I’ve heard from m’brother,” Lord Kennedy said, “there’s some bounder on some island off the coast of Sierra Leone still actively trafficking in slaves!”
“The government needs to take more decisive action,” Devlin stated. “Slavery was supposed to have been outlawed in ’33, when Parliament passed the act. Bad enough it took until ’43 and another act to cease the vile practice continuing under the East India Company, but eighteen years on, to still have slaves existing anywhere under British rule doesn’t show government of whatever stripe in any favorable light.”
Others around the circle nodded, and several murmured, “Hear, hear.”
Lord Kennedy shifted closer to Devlin and caught his eye. “I assume you’ll be having a word with Lansdowne. See if you can drop a word in his ear about the Sierra Leone situation, will you? M’brother says he believes it to be quite serious, and it might well impact our ability to deal with some of the native groups, what?”
Lord Kennedy’s brother was the governor of Sierra Leone. Devlin nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good man.” His lordship smiled at Therese, who was standing on Devlin’s other side. “Good to see you here, m’dear, listening and taking note. I suppose you want to steer Alverton on, heh?”
