Kate hiked up her skirts and rushed up the steps to James’s town house as fast as she could. Her slippers slap-slap-slapped against the stone stairs. She pounded on the door and then stood back, wringing her gloved hands and staring at the portal intently as if she could force it open with her sheer will. Moments later, the heavy door swung wide, and Locke’s large form filled the frame.
As soon as the butler recognized Kate, a wide smile spread across his face. “Your grace?”
Her breath came in short pants. “Tell me, Locke, is James here?” She bobbed her head, trying to catch a glimpse around the butler, into the house.
Locke’s face transformed into a frown. “I’m sorry to say he is not, your grace.”
Kate’s heart sank. She frantically searched the butler’s face. “Where is he?”
“His lordship has gone to Parliament this afternoon. The new session has just begun.”
Kate leaned up on her tiptoes and deposited a kiss on the older man’s leathery cheek. He blushed and stammered. “Your grace, why, I—”
“Thank you very much, Locke.” She whirled around and rushed back down the stairs and out into the muddy street where Lily sat impatiently on the seat of the curricle.
“Well?” Lily asked, her eyes as wide as the curricle wheels. “Where is he?”
“He’s in session at the House of Lords.”
Lily sighed and shook her head. “How do you like that? Most inconvenient. Don’t worry. I’ll take you back to Lady Catherine’s and we’ll return later when he—”
“Like hell you will.”
Lily’s head snapped around. Her expression could not have been more shocked had Kate just slapped her. “Pardon?”
“I said like hell you will!”
Lily’s mouth dropped open. “Why, Kate. What exactly do you plan to do?” she asked breathlessly, her hand fanning out across her breastbone.
With a sly smile on her face, Kate gathered her skirts, climbed back up onto the conveyance, and took a seat next to Lily. She nodded toward the matched pair of horses. “You’re taking me to Parliament. Now.”
Lily gaped. “P-P-Parliament?” she stuttered, her mouth opening and closing.
“Yes. Now. Please,” Kate added for good measure.
Lily shook her head. “Kate, we can’t.”
Kate arched a brow. “Can’t or shouldn’t?”
“Both!”
Kate turned to Lily and met her gaze. “With all due respect, Lady Colton, I determined several weeks ago that I intended to live. And if this isn’t a moment for living, I don’t know what is,” she finished with a resolute nod.
Lily eyed her carefully. “But Kate, have you any idea the kind of scandal it will cause if you interrupt Parliament?”
Kate threw back her head and laughed. Now that she’d made the decision, a curious calm had come over her, a curious calm paired with a giddy happiness. “I am the original scandalous bride. I’m already an outcast. Are you seriously telling me you think I’m worried about causing another scandal? Truly?”
Lily opened her mouth to retort but quickly snapped it shut again. “When you put it like that…” Lily clucked to the horses and shook out the reins. The team took off at a fast pace. Kate pressed her bonnet against her head and swayed with the jolt of the carriage’s movement.
What was she thinking? She moved to pinch the inside of her arm. Could she do it? Could she truly march into the Houses of Parliament and retrieve James? A thrill raced down her spine. She pulled her hand away and settled it in her lap instead. Yes, by God. She could do it and she would. Courage. Courage. Courage. Live. Live. Live.
Minutes later, the curricle pulled to a stop in front of Westminster. Kate stared up at the grand Gothic buildings and gulped.
“Are you quite sure about this?” Lily asked.
“Quite.”
Kate squared her shoulders. She’d come within weeks, perhaps days, of a death sentence. She’d caused a spectacular scandal. Telling the man she loved that she couldn’t live without him one moment longer wasn’t about to stop her from rushing into the House of Lords. Hell, she’d rush into the Prince Regent’s bathing parlor if she had to. Though no doubt she wouldn’t like what she saw.
Kate pulled her skirts to the side and jumped from the vehicle. She turned and winked at Lily. “If I’m arrested, I expect you to call upon Mr. Abernathy.”
“I shall do so with all haste,” Lily replied, pressing her lips together as if to keep from laughing. “Rest assured. And good luck. Now, go.” She motioned with her chin toward the buildings. “Oh, and one more thing.”
“Yes?” Kate replied.
“If you see Devon, don’t tell him I’m out here,” she said with a wink.
Shaking her head at her friend’s irreverence, Kate turned on her heel and faced the imposing Houses of Parliament. She took a deep breath, sucking cold air into her lungs. Steeling her resolve, she made her way to the south side of the Commons where the House of Lords sat. She marched up to the tall green wooden front doors. The gatekeeper, an enormous man, stood at attention. “What business do you have?” he asked in an imperious tone.
What business indeed? Hmm. She hadn’t quite thought this far.
“I am the dowager Duchess of Markingham, and I have urgent information for Viscount Medford,” she said in the most commanding voice she could muster. She raised her chin and stared the man straight in the eye. Unless the bloke had been unconscious for the past two months. he must have heard her name before. But would he believe she had urgent business?
His eyes flared. Ah, so he did know her name. He looked her over, up and down. She narrowed his eyes on him. What’s the matter? Never seen the subject of a scandal before?
Finally, he stood aside. He bowed to her, then straightened and nodded. “Down the corridor, your grace. Just through those doors.”
Kate expelled the breath she’d been holding since she approached the cavernous building. Good God. She’d never been so thankful to have the detested duchess title to bandy about in all her days. She had to admit, it opened doors, that title. It opened very large, grand doors.
“Thank you very much.” She nodded regally to the guard and made her way past him along the corridor, exercising a degree of patience she didn’t know she possessed. She longed to hike up her skirts and run, but she imagined the beefy guard tackling her and carting her off to the Tower if she attempted such a thing. No, better to remain calm and carry on as if she were just going to slip James a quiet, orderly little note.
She walked up to the side of the gallery and took two deep breaths. She stood outside the door, trying to quell the sick scared feeling in her belly. Then she pressed open the stately carved doors with shaking hands and stepped inside the large hall.
“Will the honorable gentlemen—” The loud voice that had been speaking immediately stopped and all heads swiveled to look at her.
Kate gulped but managed to raise her trembling chin. She felt like a tiny pebble lost in a sea. There were dozens of men in the room, possibly hundreds. And they were the bishops and the peers of the land. The illustrious House of Lords. The men who would have sat in judgment on her had she gone to trial. She tightened her fist. Courage. Courage. Courage. She’d decided to do this, and do this, she would.
“Your grace?” a man’s voice commanded, and Kate turned to see the lord chancellor himself staring straight at her.
She nodded. “Lord Chancellor.” Apparently, her reputation preceded her. She should have expected as much.
He arched a brow. “May we help you with something?” His voice echoed off the wood-paneled walls.
She cleared her throat. “As I believe you already know … I am the dowager Duchess of Markingham. And I’m here to see Viscount Medford.”
Muffled gasps rippled through the gallery. If every eye hadn’t indeed been trained on her before, they certainly were now. She pushed up her chin another bit. Where was James?
A great deal of coughing and mumbling ensued. Her gaze scanned both sides of the gallery. As soon as he stood, she saw him. James raised himself from a bench in the center of a large group of men on the right. “I’m here, Kate.” He stared at her with reverence in his eyes. Her breathing hitched. Her chest hurt. She broke into a run.
“Your grace, what’s the meaning of this?” The gavel cracked, and the lord chancellor’s voice thundered across the gallery, filled with outrage and indignation.
Kate didn’t care. She ran, her slippers slapping against the marble floors. She ran straight into James’s arms. He’d climbed over the side of the wooden box in which he was sitting and grabbed her and hugged her. He spun her around.
“I thought you’d never come,” he whispered in her ear as tears ran down her face.
“I only read the pamphlet today,” she said against his rough, wonderfully familiar cheek.
“Your grace.” The gavel cracked again and the lord chancellor’s angry voice rang out. “It’s completely improper—”
Keeping her eyes fastened on James, without turning to the lord chancellor, Kate summoned the loudest voice she could muster. “Oh, we’re far past improper, my lord.” She smiled to herself as she imagined the scandalized look that surely rested on the dignitary’s face. Poor man.
James ran his hands along her cheeks and kissed her then, and her knees almost gave way. “Kate,” he murmured. She felt so much in that one word.
“James,” she murmured. “I’m waiting for you to tell me you love me.”
He crumbled then. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her fiercely then moved his mouth to her ear. “I love you, Kate. I love you. I love you.”
“And I love you, James,” she said between kisses and tears.
“You know your reputation will be completely gone if you marry me,” she said, with a bit of a laugh.
He kissed her cheeks, her temple. “It’s already gone. I don’t miss it.”
“You know you won’t be able to fix it?”
He glanced around at the crowd staring at them with a mixture of shock and anger. James smiled a wry smile. “After this little scene, I doubt we could fix anything. Besides, I’m through trying to fix the wrong things.” He stepped back and smiled at her.
She kissed him again. “Does that mean you plan to stop publishing?”
“No. I intend to use my press to help people from now on. It’s as you told me, Kate. I never wanted to publish anything for the sake of scandal. I’ve always been trying to use my press to fix things. First the plight of the frightened bride, then to satisfy the curiosity of the young women who’d considered running off to Gretna Green. But now, now, Kate, I intend to use it for an even greater purpose, to fix things … the right things. To change the lives of those who are wrongfully accused.”
A younger man leaped from his seat. “Hear, hear.”
James and Kate swiveled their heads toward him. “Who is that?” Kate asked.
“That is Oliver Townsende,” James replied, the hint of a smile on his face. “The new Markingham. Good chap.”
Ah yes. Now she recognized him.
She didn’t have long to contemplate the new duke. The lord chancellor cracked his gavel against his podium so hard, Kate was sure it must have split in two. Oliver Townsende sat down. “Lord Medford,” the chancellor thundered. “What in the devil’s name are you talking about?”
“My pamphlets, gentlemen. And my press,” James called out. “That’s right. I’m sure you’ve all read it in the latest edition. And I have absolutely no intention of resigning my seat in Parliament. You’ll just have to get used to the idea of having a scandalous viscount among your ranks. Now, if you’ll excuse us. My future wife and I are leaving.” He bowed to the gallery and led Kate by the hand down the aisle and straight out the doors.