Page 73 of To Tempt a Scandalous Lord
Lifting his chin, Niall turned from the viscount and made his way to Lord Winters’s side. The earl greeted him warmly while the butler poured him a cup of tea. As the men sipped from their cups, they surveyed the room, Niall attuned for any commentary that could be used in his favor.
“You should know that Matthews has been encouraging the other men to back Medlinger.”
Niall lowered his cup to the saucer with atingof china. “I cannot say I’m surprised.”
Lord Winters glanced at him. “Why is that?”
“Because I’m no longer under his thumb,” Niall murmured, shrugging a shoulder.
The earl chuckled. “Good for you. Matthews has always been a bit…overbearing.”
“Just a bit?”
“Very well, the man can be a bastard.” Lord Winters pressed his lips together as his gaze turned speculative. “Still, he’s not a man you want to make an enemy of.”
Niall nodded. “I’ve long thought that. But I don’t think I’m the sort of man one should make an enemy of, either.”
Sliding his gaze to the earl, he caught the man’s smirk. “Definitely not.”
Lord Winters gathered the group’s attention then, thanking them for taking time out of their busy day to discuss the future of the party’s leadership.
With that bit of preamble, the earl tossed out an introductory volley of questions, and Niall was given the opening he needed to expound upon his platform and the priorities, domestic and foreign, he would have for any government he helmed.
He couldn’t be sure what the men thought of his answers as their miens gave no insight into their thoughts, but Niall didn’t care. Too long had he acquiesced to their fickle opinions, simply for the right to raise his voice. For the privilege of representing the electors of his county. For daring to succeed as a Scotsman.
His time of bowing to the opinions of the party’s elite leadership, men who were ignorant of the struggles of the working man, was over.
It was his brave, kindhearted wife who reminded him why he had stood for his first Parliament seat, and he had sent her away instead of fighting for their future, together.
Niall didn’t deserve her.
After the questions had ceased, the men broke into smaller groups to discuss various topics, some raised by Niall, and others pertaining to all manner of political gossip. Niall did his best not to speak much or interject his opinion unless he was specifically asked, content to listen to what the men were saying and thinking.
“Come now, Talbot, it’s not like you to be swayed by pretty words.”
Niall went as still as a mountain hare that had scented a wildcat on the breeze. It was a voice he would know anywhere.
“I’mnotswayed by pretty words.” Lord Talbot’s tone was heavy with offense. “But I’ve known Inverray as long as you have and he has never been prone to exaggeration. He’s been true to his word.”
A familiar scoff reached his ears, and Niall threatened to grind his teeth into dust. “But has he? Perhaps the chapbooks were right. Perhaps the marquess is really all words and no action.”
The words were a slap to the face, and Niall gripped the back of a nearby chair so hard the fabric popped under his hand.
“Surely you share some of the blame, then.” Darington’s voice was deceptively casual, but when Niall looked, it was to find the duke staring at the viscount as if he were an insect he wished to crush under his heel. “As his mentor, I would think you would have showed Inverray that serving his constituents is more than simply giving bombastic, self-important speeches. But perhaps it’s you that doesn’t know any better.”
Matthews narrowed his eyes minutely. “You have not been back in London long, Darington, so no doubt you’re stillignorantof how things are done.”
Audible gasps of surprise sounded around the room. For Matthews to respond so rudely, and to a duke, contrasted with the man’s normally respectable reserve. Several men openly scowled at him, Niall amongst them. It was unlike Matthews to be so brazen with his impudence, and Niall wondered what he was about.
Ashwood cleared his throat, and the assembled group fell deathly silent.
“And yet Darington has moreprudencethan you could ever aspire to.” The duke raised his cup to his mouth for a leisurely sip. “Such an obvious failure of character has made me wonder, as of late, how your opinion…or word can be trusted at all.”
Niall sucked in a breath. What was Ashwood doing?
“Nonsense.” Matthews linked his arms across his chest, his expression one of boredom. “I worked with your father, and your father,” he said, gesturing to Darington with his chin, “to pass bills for the betterment of the country. I—”
“But that didn’t stop you from complaining about every section of the Reform Act.” Darington folded his hands across his flat stomach. “From what I remember, you thought the language was too broad. Bemoaned the breakup of boroughs and the power it would give the nouveau riche. In spite of all the Whig talking points I’ve heard you spew since my return, you’ve never seemed to give a half penny damn for the people you were supposedly representing.”
