Lucas’s eyes widened and he stared at Sir Reginald, aghast.
The footman, James, took one step forward, clicked his heels together, and bowed. “Yes, my lord, how may I be of service?”
“Fetch me that pillow.” Sir Reginald pointed to a pillow that sat literally one hand’s length away from him on the settee. He easily could have reached it himself. “My back is aching and I need it for support,” the knight finished.
“Of course, my lord.” James strode over to the settee and picked up the pillow. He took one small step toward Sir Reginald. Wincing, the knight leaned forward to allow James to position the pillow behind his back.
Lucas’s gaze caught James’s. He’d never been more ashamed to be of the Quality. The man had treated Sir Reginald with far more respect and care than he deserved. Lucas gave James a solitary nod.
“Yes, yes. Now, go away!” Sir Reginald snapped before sighing and settling back against his pillow. “What were you saying, Kendall?”
“Have you made up your mind about the Employment Bill?” Lucas bit out. He had already decided to get directly to his point. There was no use prolonging this unpleasant conversation.
Sir Reginald’s laughter turned into a coughing fit that lasted so long it became uncomfortable. Lucas was just about to ask the man if he needed to be slapped upon the back when Sir Reginald stopped and wiped his mouth with his lacey handkerchief. “Kendall, the better question is, have you made up your mind? I thought I’d made my wishes clear when last we spoke.”
“I thought perhaps we could talk about the bill itself,” Lucas replied, clutching the brandy glass so tightly his fingers ached. He was happily pretending it was Sir Reginald’s throat. “There are many facets to consider, you know. Tell me some of the reasons you’re against it,” Lucas said, ready to have the same discussion he’d had with at least a dozen gentlemen over the past several months yet again.
“Very well, Kendall, we’ll play your little game.” The knight sighed. “But frankly it would be easier if I were to tell you why I’m for it.”
“Really?” Lucas lifted his brows. “Go ahead then.”
“Well, for one thing, it certainly sounds as if the bill will keep the servant class in their place.”
Lucas couldn’t help but glance at James. He suddenly felt entirely conspicuous. Even if Sir Reginald felt that way, did he have to say it in front of James? He could well have discreetly asked the man to leave the room or worded his sentence more tactfully.
“On the other hand,” Sir Reginald continued, “it does appear to stifle some of the progress we’ve made with the trade laws. And I can’t say I like that one bit.”
Lucas frowned. That was Sir Reginald’s argument? The trade laws had been too archaic even for Charles. Those laws kept the working class from earning any sort of a fair wage and had given them basically no rights against employers who refused to pay them, provide them with any medical care whatsoever, and even beat them. Sir Reginald’s argument against the Employment Bill was that it didn’t make it difficult enough for the working class? The repeal of some of the harsher conditions of the trade laws had been the one part of the Employment Bill Frances had actually agreed with. Her words rang in Lucas’s memory. I don’t see how anyone with a heart beating in his chest could be for it. Sir Reginald certainly sounded heartless at the moment.
Lucas forced himself to temporarily swallow his distaste to make his next point. “It will stimulate the growth of tenant farming and help to shore up some large problems with estate economics.”
“Yes, but the real beauty of the trade laws was the fact that we don’t have to answer to anyone for how we treat our help,” Sir Reginald continued. “Why would I choose to vote against my own best interests?”
The House of Lords has the power to defeat this law, but they only vote in favor of themselves and their own purses. More of Frances’s words resounded in Lucas’s head. He’d actually spent time trying to argue that point, trying to convince her that the male members of upper class did not vote only in favor of themselves and their own purses. But she was right. Sir Reginald was proving her right.
“I suppose you won’t choose to vote against your own best interests,” Lucas managed to bite out. He had only one final thing to say and then he intended to take himself away from Sir Reginald’s noxious company and never seek it again. “Look, Sir Reginald, the reason I’m so interested in getting this bill passed is because—”
“We all know why you’re so interested in getting it passed, Kendall,” Sir Reginald interrupted with an eye roll. “Your brother told you to. Now Charles was a man with whom one could negotiate. I was hoping you’d be more like him, actually.”
Lucas sat back. His chest ached as if he’d been knocked from a ship’s crow’s nest to the main deck. He couldn’t breathe. His throat burned. “What did you say to me?” he growled through clenched teeth.
“I said your brother knew how to be a politician. Clearly, he didn’t teach you much before he cocked up his toes.”
Lucas squeezed his glass so tightly it cracked. If he didn’t remove himself from Sir Reginald’s presence immediately, the knight’s neck would be next.
“On the contrary.” Lucas spit the words like nails. “I’ve always believed the bill would do the most good for the country. But I’m beginning to understand that it actually does the most good for our class and I’m not at all certain any longer that our class deserves it.” Lucas stood, drained the rest of the brandy from his ailing glass, set it on the side table, and strode toward the door. “Good day, Sir Reginald.”
The knight stared after him, his mouth agape. “Wait a minute,” he called. “What
