Page 33 of To Resist a Scandalous Rogue
Certainly any investments Earl Matthews had made with his father had not left him in financial straits.
The butler knocked once on the last door on the right, before swinging it open. “The Marquess of Inverray and Viscount Firthwell to see you, your Lordship.”
Inverray advanced into the room and offered a polite bow to the older man rising from behind a cherry wood desk. As the gentlemen exchanged pleasantries, Finlay discreetly inspected the earl. Although he had seen Matthews at various social events his father had made him attend since he’d graduated from university, he’d never actually been introduced to the man.
He was surprisingly fit, with broad shoulders and a trim frame. While his hair was peppered liberally with gray, his jawline was still firm, showing none of the sag that age and the excess of rich food and drink encouraged. He held himself like a pugilist, as if he bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to dodge a jab or block a punch. Finlay recalled the man had never married, many saying the business of running England was his mistress. If Matthews had a vice, he’d been unable to discover it.
When the earl turned his attention to Finlay, his brown eyes were piercing.
“Lord Firthwell, how do you do?” he said cordially, although his crisp tone would never be described as warm.
Finlay offered him a bow. “I’m well, my lord. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”
The earl indicated the two chairs before his desk with a sweep of his hand. He considered Finlay with unblinking eyes. “Yes, well, it seemed imperative to determine for myself if you were truly up to challenge Abernathy for the Weobley seat. Inverray claims you are, but he hasn’t been at this as long as I have. Oftentimes, a seasoned eye is needed to pinpoint a potential candidate’s strengths and weaknesses and see through his empty words and promises.”
Crossing one leg over the other, he risked a fleeting glance at Inverray, who studied his hands, his expression blank. After an internal debate, Finlay said, “I’m certain you’ll find plenty of weaknesses. My hope is that they don’t outnumber my strengths.”
Matthews’s lips turned up in what could only be described as a semblance of a smile. “Spoken like a politician.”
“I’ve been practicing.” Finlay was pleased to note the earl’s mouth twitched.
“I hope that aside from fine-tuning your wit, you’ve been studying the issues.”
“Of course. I see no point in throwing my hat into the ring if it’s merely for vanity. I’m sure enough of that fills Westminster as it is, and I can find more pleasurable ways to stroke my ego than debating middle-aged men whose white wigs are bigger than their brains.”
Inverray rubbed a hand across his mouth but not before a soft snigger escaped, while Matthews rested his chin on his hand. Finlay wondered what the earl thought of his sentiment, but the man’s mien gave nothing away.
Finlay took a heartbeat to order his thoughts. “I’m aware that until now, my life has been filled with frivolous pursuits, as is not uncommon for men of our status. I understand I may have to convince some I take this position seriously. And I’m ready to do that.” He rubbed his hands down his thighs. “With the Catholic Relief Act, it’s been decided that a man’s religious beliefs shouldn’t exclude him from participating in the governing of our great country. Next, I think Parliament should lift the landholding requirement that determines which men can vote and which can’t. And with the continued spread of manufacturing across England, the welfare of the working poor needs to be considered. Working conditions in both factories and mines can be drastically improved. And don’t even get me started on child laborers. Many of the youngest, thus the very smallest, are given the most dangerous jobs. It’s deplorable.”
Matthews pressed his lips together but held his silence, so Finlay pressed on. “Surely, the party can expand on the legislation passed by Peel. I’d argue no child under the age of three and ten should be working, and older children should work no more than eight hours every day. Their bodies are still growing, and so they’re often warped, if they don’t break completely, under such harsh conditions. Parliament needs to address these issues, as well as wage requirements, before the largest sector of our community unionizes and runs us out of power.” He paused, inhaling deeply as he looked both gentlemen squarely in the eye. “Let’s not forget the many lessons of the French Revolution.”
“Working conditions? Wage requirements?” Matthews flicked his hand as if he’d gotten something foul on his fingers. “I’d say there are many more important considerations to focus on.”
“Respectfully, my lord, I can’t imagine what’s more important than the welfare of our good people.” Finlay straightened his spine. “Aristocrats are taught to believe the working class beneath them, but I believe they’re the backbone of the country.”
“You do?” The earl’s lips twisted. “And who taught you such a thing? Surely not your father.”
“Life taught me that lesson. Having two eyes in my head and the willingness to pay attention to those around me.” Finlay propped a boot on his knee, quelling the urge to bounce it. “It’s working-class men and women who make England prosperous.”
Matthews said nothing, merely staring at him.
Battling a sudden case of nerves, Finlay stood and rounded his chair, gripping the back within his fists. “England is changing. I know I don’t have to tell you that. No longer will the power and economic structure of our country be tied to agrarian estates. With the rise of industries that are tempting workers to walk away from the fields and into factories, the power structure has begun to change. Commons will soon be filled with clever, self-made men determined to change the world to benefit them. It’s in our interest to understand such men, their motivations and goals, so we can work with them to make our country strong for all of us. Because with money comes power. And money is no longer reserved for the titled.”
Finlay’s mouth suddenly felt dry. His monologue was unplanned…and perhaps unwise. He cautiously slid his gaze to Inverray, skeptical of what the man’s reaction would be to his words. Challenging Matthews on issues was one thing, but encouraging a party leader to change how he views the men he deems below himself was quite another. He was supposed to be courting the earl, not giving him a lesson on the political climate, something the man was very aware of.
He found Inverray idly drinking a cup of tea from a tray he was unaware had been delivered, a black brow arched in amusement. Finlay’s lungs filled with relief.
“Excellent.” Matthews slapped his hands onto the desktop. “I like your fire, Firthwell. You’re quite the idealist, but try not to let the frustrations, the prejudices, the…monotonyof Parliament extinguish it.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
The earl trained his penetrating gaze on him. “I think you’ll quickly find that Parliament isn’t so much about leading the crusade against injustice, as it is about protecting the common good. The wheels of change are slow.”
“Compromise.” Inverray set his cup of tea on the edge of the desk and folded his hands over his waist. “The value and art of a good compromise is every Parliament member’s first lesson.”
“Actually, I think the first lesson all aspiring members of Parliament need to learn is adherence to the party line.” Matthews grabbed his quill and twirled it with his long fingers. He looked to Inverray. “Nothing sinks a rising political career as quickly as being a rebel.”
Finlay abruptly felt as if he’d found himself in the middle of a long-standing point of contention between the two men. By all accounts, Inverray was a bit of a rebel…and the public loved him for it. It was hard to argue with his success when he’d garnered a stable full of political victories.
