Chivalrous Captain, Rebel Mistress (22 page)

1820—London

M
arian took a seat on the bench in the back of St Stephen’s Chapel. Mr Yost sat beside her in the place designated for members of the press who report on the proceedings of the House of Commons. She stared down at her knee breeches, stockings and boy’s shoes. Yes, she would pass as a boy once again. No one would remark upon Yost bringing an errand boy with him.

She glanced around the room and thought of how much had changed in the three years since she had organised the soldiers’ march.

She’d never had any reassurance that her march made any impact at all. No news of it ever reached the newspapers; Sidmouth had seen to that. Still, she had to believe someone had read the petition; someone must have realised the significance of ignoring the soldiers’ plight, of what soldiers could do if they chose.

In three years not enough had changed, but Marian had not lost heart. Her very reason for sneaking in to the Commons
showed she continued to have hope. She kept to her promise to abandon grand schemes, instead now using her money to invest in ways to help individual soldiers find work, or to fund relief.

Other things had changed as well.

She glanced over at Yost, making notes on a sheet of paper. He had begun reporting on Parliament’s activities for a new daily newspaper, one with neutral political views. He refrained from writing seditious material, now that he had a wife and twin sons who depended upon him. Marian smiled when she thought about how blissfully happy Blanche was to be Mrs John Yost.

Blanche still worried about her excessively. Her brow had creased in worry when Marian told her she intended to dress as a boy and accompany Yost to this place.

It was forbidden for women to attend these sessions in the Commons, but Marian had been determined not to miss this day. It was said that Caroline Lamb once disguised herself as a page to witness her husband’s speech at the opening of Parliament. If Lady Caroline Lamb could do so, so could Marian.

This was the day Marian’s
Captain
—her husband—now Mr Allan Landon, M.P., would make his maiden speech in the august body.

Her gaze took in the room with its wainscoted walls. It seemed dark and exclusive, a place where important things happened. The lavishly gilded Speaker’s chair and majestic columns only reinforced this impression. In the spectator seats she spied Jack Vernon, now a successful portraitist, and Gabriel Deane. Gabe winked at her and grinned.

A door opened and suddenly the benches began to fill with countless important-looking gentlemen, and Marian shivered in anticipation.

Finally her captain entered and took his seat. Her chest swelled with pride. He’d denied being nervous, but she’d known he must be, just as she knew he would deliver an
impressive speech and set the tone for what she was certain would be a great career in Parliament.

As he promised in his campaign, he would advocate for an improved pension programme, employment and housing for England’s soldiers. Ironically, it was his passion for helping the soldiers that helped him get elected in a Whig stronghold; his brief stint at the Home Office was not held against him.

Yost took notes during other speeches and business, but at last the time had come.

The captain stood and walked to the front of the chapel.

‘Mr Speaker,’ he began.

Marian could not help but rise from her seat so she could see better.

‘Members of Parliament…’ His gaze swept the crowded chapel, but suddenly halted.

His eyes caught hers.

She would undoubtedly be in for a severe scold from him for this latest escapade. It made not a whit of difference to her. Nothing would have stopped her from being present to see and hear him speak. Nothing could make her regret it.

But she held her breath.

He smiled, just a fleeting smile, but one she had no doubt had been meant for her alone.

‘Members of Parliament,’ he repeated. ‘I stand before you a wounded veteran, but one more fortunate than many, one whose life was saved—’ he looked directly at Marian ‘—and I will speak to you today so I may help other men who fought tyranny for you and now suffer…’

He had no illusions that one speech would create change, but it was a start. Marian’s heart burst with pride for him.

Who would have ever known that the lark of a foolish girl would lead to this day, this place, this
life
?

When his speech ended and several members cheered, her applause was the loudest of all.

The soldiers’ march depicted in the book is a mere figment of my imagination, although the plight of the soldiers after Waterloo was real enough. The Blanketeers and the Spa Field Riots did occur and Lord Sidmouth, the Home Secretary, was accused of hiring provocateurs to cause the trouble at Spa Fields. Henry Hunt was a genuine liberal orator, but Mr. Yost did not really exist.

Today we take for granted the freedom to criticize the government and demonstrate for causes, but with the Seditious Meetings Act of 1817, it was illegal for groups of more than fifty people to gather together. It also became illegal to write, print or distribute seditious material. Lord Sidmouth had been a strong advocate of these measures, but they proved to be a blight on Lord Liverpool’s government and ultimately ushered in a more liberal Tory government in 1822.

Next in my Three Soldiers series is Gabriel Deane’s story. From the moment he, Allan and Jack rescue the Frenchwoman from Edwin Tranville at Badajoz, Gabe is captivated by her. When he meets her again in Brussels they begin a scorching affair, but when Gabe asks her to marry him, she refuses.

Then they meet a third time in London….

Look for Gabriel’s story. Coming soon.