Page 11 of Romancing the Rifleman
Kinwood’s voice was tight as he replied, “A variety of farm goods.”
Harrington gave him a baleful look.“And who owns these farms?Anyone other than you?”
Kinwood was silent.Harrington leaned forward, plucking the cheroot from Kinwood’s hands and grinding it out in the crystal ashtray on the end table.“You’re dropping ash all over Lord Richford’s carpet.”He placed it back in Kinwood’s limp fingers, then stood.
Just before he reached the door, he glanced over his shoulder.“Oh, and Kinwood?Let me give you a little advice.Before you ask a man for a favor, it’s best not to call him an idiot.”
If Kinwood made a reply before he strode from the room, Harrington didn’t hear it.
Harrington’s heart was still pounding as he made his way back to the ballroom.Somehow, he had pulled that off!He hadn’t made an utter numpty of himself.
It had even been—dare he say it—fun.
And, of course, it was only because of Lady Diana.He’d have been a complete wreck without her advice.Hell, even with her advice, he hadn’t been confident in his ability to pull it off, but the fact that he’d managed was a tremendous relief.
He quickened his strides, eager to tell her how it had gone.
At the end of the corridor, his brother, Edward, came around the corner.A huge smile spread across his face.
Harrington did not return it.Grabbing his brother by the shoulder, he hauled him into the closest room, which proved to be a parlor.
“Harrington?”Edward asked.“Is anything the matter?”
Harrington shut the door behind him, then rounded on his brother.“You know damn right what’s the matter!Why didn’t you tell me?”
Edward blinked at him, confused.“Tell you what?”
“That I was elected to Parliament!”Harrington hissed.
The tension went out of Edward’s shoulders.“Oh.That.I did write to you as soon as the votes were counted.”He chuckled.“Given the situation in Germany, I suppose it is unsurprising that my letter never reached you.I’m sorry I didn’t think to mention it earlier, but you’ve only been back for a couple of hours, and I must confess, it entirely slipped my mind.I was just so happy to see you!”
Harrington pinched the bridge of his nose.“I don’t meantoday.I meant, why didn’t you tell me I was on the ballot?”
Edward looked confused, a rare state for the man who had been named Senior Wrangler, denoting the top student in mathematics at Cambridge.“Because… you knew?”he hedged.
“Of course, I didn’t know!”Harrington snapped.“I thoughtyouwere the one standing for Parliament!”
Edward frowned.“But the papers we signed clearly said?—”
“I didn’treadthem!”Harrington said as if this should have been obvious.“I’d been out drinking all night with Thetford and Ferguson.I could barely stumble down the stairs!”
Edward rubbed his temple.“Harrington.”
Harrington waved a hand.“I know, I know.I’m a dolt.”
Edward held up a hand.“No.You’re not.I just—Father said he wanted his son, the most popular man in the county, to stand for the seat.”
Edward was staring at him as if this explained everything.Harrington was probably staring at him much the same way.
Finally, Harrington broke the silence.“That’s you.”
“That’syou,” Edward countered.“Had he said the most pedantic man in Gloucestershire,thatwould have been me.”
Harrington frowned.“You’re very well-liked.Everyone respects you.”
Edward put a hand on his shoulder, steering him toward the sofa.“But not in the same way you are.”They both sat, and Edward turned to face him.“How is it possible that you did not understand that Father was referring to you?”
“Because the mere notion is ridiculous.Me?InParliament?”He laughed, waiting for Edward to join in.
