Page 35 of His Scandalous Lessons
She would not let him do the same with Richard.
Anne came to the heavy door of her father’s study and scratched lightly on the surface.
“Come,” was her father’s response.
Stanton Sheffield was seated at his desk, surrounded by papers, as usual. He didn’t look up when he said, “Shut the door.”
Anne did as he bade. “I trust your trip was successful.”
Stanton grunted. “We’ll see if it yields fruit later. I’ve more pressing matters to attend to.”
“Richard Grey,” she said with a nod.
Her father’s lip curled in derision. “That bastard has flipped five votes. He—” Stanton’s heavy fist came down hard onto the desk. Anne jumped. “Goddamn it, Anne. We need this fucking bill to fail.”
Anne tried not to let anything show on her face. She had heard such language from him before with regards to Richard, but never so desperately.
What was it about this bill?
“Do we?” she asked softly. At Stanton’s sharp look, she lowered her gaze. “It’s only that you’ve lost votes before, and I don’t wish to see you so upset.”
Stanton didn’t look any less disgusted. “I ought to have recalled that you’re a woman and women are too stupid to understand anything beyond the Season. Not a day passes that I don’t wish I’d had a son with that memory of yours, so I wouldn’t have to bother with you.”
Don’t show anything. Don’t show your anger.
It helped to think of Richard. Of what he would say in response. It would be profanity-laden, she knew. Plain speak. Then he would pull her into his arms and kiss her and ask her permission to do the things he wished.
This was for him. This was all for him.
Straightening, Anne said, “Forgive me. As you say, I am too stupid to understand such matters.”
“Oh, stop sniveling, Anne.” He shoved the stack of papers he’d been working on aside. “If you were a son, you would understand the concept of donors and obligations. I have landlords I’m beholden to. Men who give me money to keep us in this lifestyle, otherwise we’d still be in that hideous ruin in Dorset with the leaking roof.” He shoved his chair away from the desk and stood. “Do you think they’re going to keep paying me when their tenants are voting against their interests? When those fucking Irish dogs are forcing Home Rule? Do you?”
Anne pressed her lips together and kept her head down. “No, papa.”
Stanton made a soft noise and said, “Tell me everything you know about Richard Grey, so I can have you out of my sight.”
Anne straightened, knowing what he was asking her: to speak as if she were reading him a page in the book of someone’s life. Just the information, precisely as she knew it, without opinion, inflection, or emotion. “Richard Grey is a liberal, though many would call him a radical. His first major contribution to politics was in bribes to pass the Second Reform Act, then military reforms, civil service, and local government initiatives to aid the lower classes. At his sister’s behest, he has taken an interest in legislation concerning women and children, particularly those in workhouses, and engages with MPs on ways to meet the demands of the working classes. I can write a list of the laws he’s taken personal interest in, but specifically: the Caldwell reforms, the Irish Land Act, the Education Act, Universities Tests Act, the—”
“Getonwith it, Anne,” he father snapped. “You sound as if you’re espousing the man’s goddamn virtues.”
“Last year, Mr. John Hardy MP got in a public row with Mr. Grey’s sister, Lady Alexandra Grey, over his criticisms of her essays on women’s suffrage. Mr. Hardy later voted against your party on the Caldwell reforms, likely after Mr. Grey’s interference. His brother is the Earl of Kent, who—”
“Enough,” her father said shortly. He tapped a finger against the desk and stared out the window. “Put this information together, and what does it tell you?”
Anne wanted to tell him that it made her love Richard more. That sharing the details of his life, his influence, it was all for the benefit of those without as much as he had. He cared.
She couldn’t answer, so she stayed quiet.
Her father murmured, “Aside from being quite the bleeding heart for the poor, his family is a rather sore spot, isn’t it? Especially the sister.”
Something cold settled in Anne’s belly. She waited for him to say more, but he was quiet for so long. Whole minutes passed. Finally, Anne murmured, “Is that all, papa?”
He looked at her and blinked, as if just recalling her presence. “Yes.” Then, as she turned to leave: “Wait, no. Send in your maid. I’d like an update.”
Anne froze. She had forgot about Mary, who would no doubt be settled into her new position by now. She hadn’t anticipated returning to explain the absence of her maid.
Don’t show alarm. Breathe.
