Read Online Deadly Affair: A Georgian Historical Mystery (Alec Halsey Crimance) by Lucinda Brant - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lucinda Brant
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has my uncle’s oratorical skills to do with this visit?”
Sir Charles looked uneasy. “Firstly, I want you to know that the Bristol Bill will pass into law with or without your uncle’s vote. He can rant and rave all he likes but when it comes to the vote morality is the last thing on the minds of parliamentarians. Session is about to close. All anyone cares about is getting the bill up to the Lords before break. No one wants to be held over.”
“God forbid the business of government should take precedence,” Alec quipped, but added in a more sobering tone as he stood, “What my uncle says and does is his affair. I have no influence over his opinions, nor should I. So, if you mean by coming here to have me dissuade him from attempting to hold parliament over a week or two, then I am sorry. I can’t, and even if I could, I wouldn’t interfere. So, if you don’t mind, Charles, I’m in need of my bath.”
“Your uncle’s speech on the rights of all men, be they savages or statesmen, stirred the consciences of a few of our members. There is a whisper, nothing more, that the vote could hang on the ayes of one or two of our most northern gentlemen.”
Alec looked pleased. “All power to them.”
“This bill must and will pass!” Sir Charles blurted out, dropping his guard. “Its passage will be a vindication of all the Duke has worked for over the years. Those opposing us will not be able to argue differently. You see, we can’t afford to fail. Not now. Not when there are rumors—rumors that his Grace will step down as Foreign Secretary if the vote does not go as anticipated.” He gripped the chair back to bring himself under control. This did not stop the tremble in his voice. “Have you any notion what it would do to us to have the Duke resign? You must know the extent to which people rely on him, not only for their posts but for their very existence. If he falls, we all fall.”
Sir Charles’s tone smacked of the melodramatic, but Alec conceded the man had a right to his angry desperation. His political clout, indeed his very political existence, he owed to the Duke of Cleveley. Without him he had no future. But Alec was not wholly ignorant of the latest goings-on in Parliament. He was in no doubt that the bill would pass, whether his uncle spoke against it or not. A quick read of yesterday’s newssheets put the numbers in favor of the Bristol Bill well ahead of those likely to dissent. The government had nothing to fear. And as Cleveley’s mouthpiece in the Commons, Sir Charles had to be aware of this, and the fact there was no credible reason for the Duke to resign his offices of state. Then why did Sir Charles have the air of a desperate man?
“I don’t know much about behind-the-scenes Parliamentary machinations,” Alec said calmly. “But I do know all about the insidious use of patronage. I do not have influence over my uncle’s thoughts and deeds, but having been raised by him I do carry some of his opinions as my own. No doubt you have had to sit through his speeches on the corrupting influence the system of patronage has on the governing of the kingdom; how patronage serves those least likely to do a decent day’s work. I concede that in a minority of cases it can be beneficial in helping a talented and dedicated man, such as yourself, rise to a position where he is of use to his country. Sadly, you are in the minority. Patronage leaves a man at the whim of his patron. Never is he permitted to forget to whom he owes his allegiance; his own feelings and conscience become subordinate.”
“You think me such a man?” Sir Charles was clearly offended.
“I have no idea.”
“It is commonly reported that I am Cleveley’s puppet,” Sir Charles replied sullenly. “That the speeches I make on the floor are nothing more than parrot-fashion diatribes of Cleveley’s making. Ha! It is conveniently forgotten that I was secretary to the great man for ten years. Whom do you think wrote
Sir Charles looked uneasy. “Firstly, I want you to know that the Bristol Bill will pass into law with or without your uncle’s vote. He can rant and rave all he likes but when it comes to the vote morality is the last thing on the minds of parliamentarians. Session is about to close. All anyone cares about is getting the bill up to the Lords before break. No one wants to be held over.”
“God forbid the business of government should take precedence,” Alec quipped, but added in a more sobering tone as he stood, “What my uncle says and does is his affair. I have no influence over his opinions, nor should I. So, if you mean by coming here to have me dissuade him from attempting to hold parliament over a week or two, then I am sorry. I can’t, and even if I could, I wouldn’t interfere. So, if you don’t mind, Charles, I’m in need of my bath.”
“Your uncle’s speech on the rights of all men, be they savages or statesmen, stirred the consciences of a few of our members. There is a whisper, nothing more, that the vote could hang on the ayes of one or two of our most northern gentlemen.”
Alec looked pleased. “All power to them.”
“This bill must and will pass!” Sir Charles blurted out, dropping his guard. “Its passage will be a vindication of all the Duke has worked for over the years. Those opposing us will not be able to argue differently. You see, we can’t afford to fail. Not now. Not when there are rumors—rumors that his Grace will step down as Foreign Secretary if the vote does not go as anticipated.” He gripped the chair back to bring himself under control. This did not stop the tremble in his voice. “Have you any notion what it would do to us to have the Duke resign? You must know the extent to which people rely on him, not only for their posts but for their very existence. If he falls, we all fall.”
Sir Charles’s tone smacked of the melodramatic, but Alec conceded the man had a right to his angry desperation. His political clout, indeed his very political existence, he owed to the Duke of Cleveley. Without him he had no future. But Alec was not wholly ignorant of the latest goings-on in Parliament. He was in no doubt that the bill would pass, whether his uncle spoke against it or not. A quick read of yesterday’s newssheets put the numbers in favor of the Bristol Bill well ahead of those likely to dissent. The government had nothing to fear. And as Cleveley’s mouthpiece in the Commons, Sir Charles had to be aware of this, and the fact there was no credible reason for the Duke to resign his offices of state. Then why did Sir Charles have the air of a desperate man?
“I don’t know much about behind-the-scenes Parliamentary machinations,” Alec said calmly. “But I do know all about the insidious use of patronage. I do not have influence over my uncle’s thoughts and deeds, but having been raised by him I do carry some of his opinions as my own. No doubt you have had to sit through his speeches on the corrupting influence the system of patronage has on the governing of the kingdom; how patronage serves those least likely to do a decent day’s work. I concede that in a minority of cases it can be beneficial in helping a talented and dedicated man, such as yourself, rise to a position where he is of use to his country. Sadly, you are in the minority. Patronage leaves a man at the whim of his patron. Never is he permitted to forget to whom he owes his allegiance; his own feelings and conscience become subordinate.”
“You think me such a man?” Sir Charles was clearly offended.
“I have no idea.”
“It is commonly reported that I am Cleveley’s puppet,” Sir Charles replied sullenly. “That the speeches I make on the floor are nothing more than parrot-fashion diatribes of Cleveley’s making. Ha! It is conveniently forgotten that I was secretary to the great man for ten years. Whom do you think wrote
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