Page 15 of One Night for Seduction
“That’s how measurementworks.” He arched a brow. “Next you’ll want to switch from yards to meters.”
“Napoleon ridiculed the notion too,” she informed him, “but he changed his tune when he realized its efficacy. If multiple countries saw the value after the Congress of Vienna, perhaps it would behoove England to consider—”
“It’s never going to happen.” His arms folded across his muscular chest. “If you knew how long I fought before we eked through an act meant to hinder the use of false measurements—”
“You were responsible for the 1815 Weights and Measures Act?” she asked in disbelief. “Eighteen years had passed since the last time anyone—”
“I know,” he said. “I was there. And no, it wasn’t just me. It was a committee. Do you have any idea how many acts the House of Lords passes each year?”
“One hundred and forty-two last year, one hundred and eighty-two the year before, and one hundred and sixty-two the year before that,” Diana said automatically. However, her mind was not on the past, but the future.
Colehaven dragged a hand through his hair and gave her a sideways look. “Are we really standing around arguing about standardizing weights and measures?”
No, Diana realized in wonder. She was done arguing and had no intention of standing about.
The duke was clearly no empty-headed dandy. Whether he realized it or not, the causes he fought for were the same as hers. Not only was he clever enough to comprehend chess, he was a champion of facts and reason.
When it came to reforming irregular systems of measure, he had personally helped drive the first signs of progress in nearly two decades. But there was far more work to be done. A secret grin threatened to take over Diana’s face.
The Duke of Colehaven was much more than a handsome nuisance.
He was her ticket to gain entry.
Chapter 6
When she’d walked away from the Duke of Colehaven last night, Diana did not yet have a plan.
She was very rarely without a plan. The strange sense ofnot knowingflustered and frustrated her. Had he truly contemplated kissing her? Or was it just another way for him to demonstrate the power he could wield?
Diana shook her head. Kisses did not matter—no matter what her feverish dreams might have contained. What mattered was that she had made the acquaintance of someone in a position to make laws to ensure greater fairness for all citizens.
Granted, he did not yet see things her way. They had started off poorly. A situation that would have to be rectified if she wished to have any hope of him being open to her input.
Not heropinion, mind you. Diana was not one to spout off opinions shilly-shally or let her good sense be swayed by something as mercurial as emotions.
She dealt with empirical observations, direct investigation, painstakingly collected details, absolute fact. And the fact was, the people of England were being swindled on a daily basis. Sometimes due to corrupt agents, and sometimes due to sheer ignorance.
It was all so easily preventable. A uniform system of measurements, coupled with government oversight and consistent enforcement of—
“Doesn’t it weigh right?” asked the panicking shopkeeper before her.
“Yes,” Diana said quickly. She reassured him with a smile as she gathered her tools back into her basket, alongside her journal and a change of disguise. “Thank you for complying with the law.”
His eyes widened. “I would never dream of doing otherwise.”
If only all his competitors shared the same high standard.
No, Diana corrected herself as she took her leave from the shopkeeper. If only it wereeasierfor ordinary people to adhere to consistent standards.
If she were a member of the House of Lords, the first Act of Parliament she’d argue for would be a complete overhaul of current weights and measures. Today’s system was too opaque to enforce, too illogical for many people to follow. Simple, uniform measures would ensure fairness for everyone.
But Diana wasn’t a lord. She was nobody; a spinster whose status and gender barred her from championing her own causes or putting forth ideas directly. The most she could provide her fellow citizens was surreptitious inspections and anonymous letters.
So be it. She’d remain a spinster secret agent forever, as long as she could keep making a difference.
She pushed out of the shop and back out onto the street. It was warmer today than yesterday, which meant the light dusting of snow had long since melted into mud. Her nondescript bonnet and coat blended perfectly. One or two more stops, and she could be home long before her cousin awoke.
But when she turned toward St. James, a familiar figure crossed into her view.
