To Tempt a Scandalous Lord by Liana De la Rosa
Chapter Thirteen
Alicia made her way to the servants’ stairs that led up to the main floor, her pulse thundering in her ears. Niall had liked her suggestion when she’d first made it, but what would he think of her plan for implementation? Would he even want to discuss it with her?
She kept her footsteps light as she walked to the formal parlor. The door was ajar and as she made to open it further, voices made her pause.
“Until you determine the author of those damn chapbooks, those critiques will continue to be used by Medlinger to make you appear weak and unprepared for party leadership.”
It was Lord Matthews.
Alicia bit her lip at his words. Her critiques were not meant to make Niall appear as a weak candidate. If anything, her essays showed how much he had to offer. But…they also highlighted where he could improve. She was proud of the ways in which she had been successful in calling attention to issues the candidates had continued to overlook. But in that moment, listening to Viscount Matthews scold Niall for the words she had written, Alicia flushed with shame.
Her husband would certainly feel like a fool if he discovered his new wife was the anonymous author.
Still, she refused to allow Niall to weather Matthews’s ire by himself. Lifting her chin and pasting a polite smile on her face, Alicia sailed into the room, feigning surprise when her eyes landed on the two men. “My goodness, I didn’t realize you gentlemen were in here. Please forgive my intrusion.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, my dear,” Niall murmured, rising to his feet.
Alicia was not sure what he would do, so when he gestured to an armchair next to his with his hand, she sat, folding her hands politely in her lap.
“Lady Inverray, how do you do?” Lord Matthews said, his manner polite and welcoming. But his smile did not reach his eyes. “I just told your husband how I hope he had a grand wedding trip planned for after the party vote. I’m sure you would prefer to have more of his attention at this time, but as he’s in a contentious race, I hope you understand all that keeps him away from home.”
Alicia barely kept herself from rolling her eyes. “You forget, my lord, that I was married to a politician before. Lord Lindsay may not have been a member of party leadership, but he spearheaded any number of bills and proposals that kept him busy until he was too ill to see to his duties.” Alicia reached out to pat Niall’s hand, and was relieved when he didn’t pull away from her touch. “I consented to marry Lord Inverray knowing his Parliamentary duties would always be his mistress.”
Matthews nodded his head in agreement, but it was Niall’s reaction that caught her attention. Her husband turned his hand until their palms met, and the heat of his touch sent a shiver of awareness down her spine. When he lightly dragged the tip of one finger down her hand, she clenched her thighs together for she felt that touch all over her body.
Alicia cleared her throat, desperate to regain her equilibrium. “When I entered, you were speaking of the chapbook author, my lord. Is it my understanding you believe Lord Inverray should determine the author’s identity? Whatever for?”
“To ruin the man, of course.” The viscount flicked his fingers. “Those essays have upended the election. The party has selected their leader without outside input for at least two hundred years, and we certainly don’t need an anonymous critic pointing out the candidates’ supposed flaws now.”
“The author did not just point out flaws,” Niall interjected, his voice low. “He also wrote several positive things about me and my voting record.”
“And he also called you shilly-shallying on child labor,” Matthews pointed out with an impatient swipe of his hand.
“The author criticized Medlinger, too.” Niall let go of her hand and launched himself to his feet to prowl back and forth across the room. “I was not the only subject of the tracts.”
“So perhaps you need to wield the critiques against Medlinger as deftly as he is wielding them against you,” Alicia pointed out.
Niall immediately halted his steps, his gaze intent on her face. But it was Lord Matthews who demanded her attention. “Such tactics are not gentlemanly.”
Alicia scowled. “So it’s perfectly fine for Viscount Medlinger to engage in ungentlemanly behavior, tarnishing Inverray’s standing with voters, but he is not allowed to respond in kind? That seems shortsighted at best, but mostly foolhardy.”
“Foolhardy?” Matthews enunciated every syllable.
“Yes. Foolhardy.” Alicia looked to her husband, who continued to stare at her with an indecipherable expression on his face. “You bemoan the fact that the author of these chapbooks has pointed out flaws in Inverray’s campaign instead of using it as an opportunity to address them. And, when you can utilize the same weaknesses the author illuminated in Medlinger’s campaign to cast doubt on his viability as Prime Minister, you balk. Do you want my husband to win or not?”
Lord Matthews appeared as if he had been hit in the head with a heavy object. His eyes were wide and unblinking, and his jaw hung ever so slightly agape. Alicia looked to her husband, uncertain of what she should do and worried she may have gone too far in censuring the older man. But Niall shook his head slightly, and the specter of a smile on his lips eased the tension in her.
Tugging on his cravat, the viscount seemed to collect himself. “This is a perfect example of why women should not be involved in political matters. If Inverray were to attack Viscount Medlinger in such a manner, it would spell the end of his bid. Electors would not stand for it.”
Alicia gritted her teeth at his dismissiveness. “I doubt that, my lord. Medlinger has not lost support for utilizing the arguments made in the chapbooks, and this is a man who’s been linked to an affair with a married woman! In fact, I’d say they have galvanized voters for him.” Alicia arched a brow. “I may be just a woman, but it seems to me that voters would rather have a flawed candidate who can see the error of his ways, than a supposed perfect candidate who continues on course as if he is not steering the ship into an iceberg.”
Now she’d really done it. And she was not sorry.
Matthews was studying her as if she were an unknown specimen of bug pinned to a board. It was clear he wasn’t used to someone pointing out his erroneous thinking. The man was operating under the misguided assumption that politics was just the same as it had been when he’d been a young man, and unfortunately for him, it wasn’t.
The Reform Act had ushered in changes to who could vote and how they voted. There was still much more to be done, like giving women a right to the ballot box, but Alicia was well aware that change happened at a glacial pace. Still, the viscount’s determination to hold onto the old way of things did nothing to aid Niall now.
Matthews was well respected, and even feared, in some party circles, but Alicia didn’t give a two pence damn about what the man thought of her suggestion.
Niall’s was the only opinion that mattered.
“Steering the ship into an iceberg?” Niall chuckled, and it was the first genuine laugh she had heard from him in a good, long while. “For all that it’s humorous, it is also the perfect visual for how electors are treating these opinion pieces. That’s what they are, Matthews. The opinion of one man. And he’s shared his opinion of not only me, but Medlinger as well. I know you consider it ungentlemanly, but I see nothing wrong with echoing the words the author shared of the viscount’s voting record, just as the viscount has used the author’s analysis against me.”
Matthews exhaled a noisy breath. “And I consider it a foolish move. Are you going to trust my opinion or that of your new wife?”
Niall flexed his jaw.
A trickle of sweat ran down Alicia’s spine, anxiety pounding through her blood. Surely he knew that she didn’t expect him to draw a line in the sand now. She wouldn’t dream of trying to step into Lord Matthews’s position as his advisor; she was simply offering a different opinion of the situation.
Abruptly, she wanted to throw something. Why couldn’t men accept that dissenting opinions were not attacks on their manhood? On their self-worth? Faith save her from the egos of fragile men.
“I believe I am going to take the afternoon to consider both of your well-formed opinions and decide how I want to proceed.” Niall nodded his head, as if he were a king handing down an edict to his subjects.
“How very diplomatic of you,” Matthews said, with sarcasm as sharp as ice.
“Thank you,” Niall said, a cheeky tilt in his tone. “As Prime Minister, shouldn’t I strive to be diplomatic?”
“Perhaps.” The viscount narrowed his eyes as he studied them. “You know, Lady Inverray, that if your husband chooses to follow your advice and he loses the bid, you will be to blame.”
Fury locked Alicia’s jaw and it took her a heartbeat to respond. “My fault? Are you saying that if my husband heeds my advice and chooses to address those areas he could approve upon, and electors decide to vote for Medlinger anyway, I’m to blame for their free thinking and agency? As far as threats go, this one seems rather…flimsy.”
“Flimsy?” Matthews growled. “In fact, it is your claims, your advice, that is offensive, my lady. And many would say they’re misguided.”
Alicia folded her hands calmly and sighed. Loudly. “I don’t understand how we are at odds, my lord. We both want Inverray to win. We both want him to overcome the challenges born of the political chapbooks. We’re simply suggesting different ways he can combat their claims. Differing plans of attack do not make us enemies, Lord Matthews.”
The viscount grunted, his mien making it clear he did not agree. Turning to Niall, he lifted a shoulder. “I’ll do what I can, but I can’t promise that electors will continue to support you, should you follow your wife’s ill-advised suggestion.”
“I understand,” Niall said, holding out his hand to the older man. “I appreciate your wisdom, as always.”
Matthews nodded, raking Alicia over with one last look, before sweeping out the door.
They stood in silence for several tense moments after Matthews left, each with their gaze trained on the door. Alicia didn’t know what to say. She had originally sought Niall out, intent to be of assistance, and instead she had caused a fracture between him and his longtime advisor.
An apology sat on the tip of her tongue, yet she struggled to release it. She was not sorry. Her heart told her that if Niall wanted to be Prime Minister, he had to utilize every weapon at his disposal, even if some thought wielding such a tool was distasteful. Those people were not seeking the highest elected office in the land.
Pressing her lips together, Alicia weighed what to say, if anything at all. She was rescued from the decision when Niall rubbed a tired hand across his eyes.
“That did not go the way I envisioned. At all.”
“I didn’t even have visions of that situation, and still it did not live up to my expectations,” she grumbled in solidarity.
Niall slid his gaze to her, a pucker between his brows.
That encouraged her to continue speaking. “Despite how it may appear, I apologize if I overstepped. I know you did not need me to interject myself into the situation, but when the viscount started blaming you for things outside of your control, I could not help myself.”
“While I appreciate your desire to help, I was not in need of your defense, wife.”
Alicia took a step back, feeling as if she had been slapped. “O-of course not. How preposterous it was for me to believe you might appreciate not having to wage every political battle alone.”
Niall pinched the bridge of his nose. “Not everything is a battle.”
“It’s certainly not if you’re always willing to surrender.”
And with those harsh words, she stalked out the room.
“Alicia,” he called after her, her name a tired plea.
But she was done being his fool.