No luck so far on the swan, but she had been delighted to find a flock of Sea Crows on her excursion today. If she could find one or two more of these visitors from the far north of Europe, she’d be content to return to London. Many of the other winter travellers could be found in the environs of the capital, which would allow her to complete all the sketches she needed—without having to deprive herself of Ben’s company.
What would he doing now? she wondered. Probably with the other Hellions, perfecting their strategy for winning over any recalcitrant members of the House, so they might get their bill passed in the next session. How proud and happy they would be to see the culmination of all their years of hard work.
How proud she was of Ben. Smiling, she recalled the intensity of his expression as he explained to her and her mother the various reforms they hoped to implement—one of them benefiting the folk right here in Liverpool. Ridiculous that a city of many thousands had no representation in Parliament!
‘Mrs Tawny, a letter for you,’ the innkeeper called, halting her as she was about to mount the steps to her room.
News from Ben? The idea of him reaching out to her, even via letter, sent a ripple of pure happiness through her. ‘Thank you, Mr Cleveland,’ she said as he handed it to her.
To her surprise—and disappointment—the hand that had written her name on the folded missive was feminine. And not her mother’s. Wondering who else might want to reach her—and would know how and where to reach her—she hurried up to her chamber.
Instructing the maid to set down her supplies and take some rest, Alyssa shut the door behind her, tossed off gloves and bonnet, and broke the seal. To discover that her correspondent was Lady Lyndlington.
Forgive me for taking the liberty of contacting you, but a situation has developed of which I think you should be aware and I don’t believe Ben will tell you about it.
Trepidation filling her, Alyssa took a seat, rapidly reading as Maggie described Ben’s entrapment by Denbry at the Quill and Gavel. Anguish and fury filling her, she paused to look sightlessly out the window. Would her reckless desire to confront that man never stop wreaking havoc with Ben’s career? She read on.
Having his wife support him as he tours his district is perhaps the most effective response he can make to the negative image the broadside will portray. If he cannot overcome that and loses the confidence of his electors—or of the party leaders—it could cripple a career filled with so much promise.
It is presumptuous of me to write you something that should more properly have come from Ben. But he feels so keenly your need to complete your own work that he did not want you to know, lest you feel obligated to support him at the expense of your own project. However, I feel that as an independent woman it should be your choice whether you stay to complete your work, or go to assist him.
You may protest that you do not know politics, aren’t clever at polite conversation with strangers and don’t think your presence would be much help. Let me assure you, the best way to refute the vile rumours is for electors to see a wife standing beside her husband, the obvious affection between them impossible to deny.
I hope you will forgive my interference and know that all the Hellions will support you, whatever you decide.
Alyssa read the note through again before putting on the table with trembling hands.
Dear Ben, who took his promise not to impede her work so seriously, he would protect her by refusing to tell her about this threat to his own. But Maggie was right. It should be her choice.
How could she make it? Miss this final deadline and the publisher was under no further obligation to her. The portfolio of sketches she’d been so painstakingly accumulating, that Ben’s generosity in turning over her aunt’s bequest and his understanding in allowing her to travel and work at will, would remain nothing more than that—a portfolio of sketches relegated to a cabinet, never to be brought out as a published manuscript that would illuminate British birds in colour, as Audubon had highlighted the birds of America.
And yet, if she did not go to Ben’s side, he might lose the power to influence and shape government in new directions, the goal that had fired him heart and soul for the last ten years.
If she lost for ever her chance to be an independent artist, valued for work done in her own right...who would she be? Like most women, just a helpmate to a husband’s career and ambitions?
Anguished, she put her head in her hands, impossibly torn.
But then, as she forbade herself to give way to tears, she heard a still, small voice telling her not to be a fool. Why was she trying to deceive herself? She shouldn’t hide the truth behind platitudes about the contribution he could make to government being of so much greater importance to the nation than publishing her smattering of sketches.
In her heart, she’d known at least from that last morning in London that her choice had already been made. Much as she’d counselled herself to hold back and not cede all of her heart to Ben, she’d lost it anyway. The sharpness of the pain she felt at imagining him stripped of his power and his dream were proof of that.
A strong, independent woman could choose to put her own dreams on hold, to safeguard the future of the man she loved. And when had she come to think that her entire identity as an artist must be wrapped up in the publication of this one book? Was that not vainglory, wanting the pride of knowing she had done what few women had achieved, rather than joy in the work itself?
Nothing could take away her ability to draw and sketch, or make her subsume it in being only a wife. Surely there were other avenues in which she might express her artistic soul besides producing a limited edition of expensive prints. She had only to put her mind to considering how.
She should be the bold, independent woman Maggie called her to be. A woman unafraid to admit her love for Ben, to demand that the terms of their agreement be changed and to embrace the joy and companionship he offered, even if he never offered love.
She’ always thought she’d loved Will, but compared to the vastness of the emotion now filling her, she realised it had been more gratitude for his recognition of her work and the excitement of a man’s admiration.
Never had he touched her as Ben had...and would.
Which meant, she thought, excitement filling her as she imagined being with him again, she’d better start packing for the journey to Hampshire.
* * *
Three days later, a discouraged Ben stood outside the Hasty Farmer in the village of Ailnthorpe, trying to hold on to his temper as he endured a tongue-lashing from the wife of one of the town’s electors. ‘Disgraceful, that’s what it is!’ she ranted, a copy of Denbry’s infamous broadside clutched in her plump fist. ‘Promising us all manner of things, telling us how hard you’ll be working in Parliament, then spending your time in London cavorting with harlots!’
‘Let me say again, Mr and Mrs Winstead,’ he said, dredging up the patience to repeat the speech he’d made times out of mind the last six days—with varying degrees of success. ‘That broadside was created to discredit me. Have I not worked hard for you in Parliament? Are we not standing on the cusp of creating a new era of representation, demolishing the old rotten boroughs and giving a fair voice to all the people? I ask that you hold fast to the trust you placed in me, the trust I feel seven years of work have earned, and look beyond this crude attempt to blacken my reputation.’
The reaction had been worse than he’d anticipated, once the broadside had made its way on to print-shop windows throughout the borough of Launton. So negative, if it weren’t for the important work he burned to continue—and his fury at having a reprobate like Denbry determine his fate—he might have given it up as a lost cause.
He intended to persevere, though. Even if some of the voters remained dubious about the truth of the broadside, if enough men believed him, he could remain in Parliament. Eventually time
and newer scandals would relegate the allegations to the rubbish heap of old political disgraces.
No matter how much it sickened him to have such calumny attached to his name.
Pulled out of his grim reflections by a hand clasping his arm, he almost brushed it off, thinking at first it was Mrs Winstead, moving closer to reinforce her point. Until the fresh scent and the immediate tingling of his skin under her touch told him the woman who’d slipped beside was, unbelievably—Alyssa?
Tucking her arm tightly in his, she said, ‘I couldn’t help but overhear, ma’am, and I most earnestly ask you to reconsider! Why should you believe this vicious image, rather than trust in the hard work my husband has been doing these last seven years? Is it more logical to believe he would have shown one face to you in Launton and been an entirely different man in London—or to believe that opponents of the legislation he has worked so hard to bring about would take any means, no matter how vile, to discredit him—and halt the tide of change he wants to bring about?’
While Ben tried to get his mind around the incredible idea that, somehow, the wife he’d thought to be sketching rare birds on the western coast was standing here beside him, defending him to a voter’s outraged spouse, Mrs Winstead’s eyes widened. ‘You’re his wife, you say?’
‘Yes, ma’am, Alyssa Tawny, and pleased to make your acquaintance,’ Alyssa said, shaking the hand of the suspicious woman. ‘As you well know, ma’am, we women have little power—at least, until some session hence, when my husband lobbies to extend us the vote,’ she added, giving Ben a brilliant smile. ‘Many times, the only way we can express our pain or outrage is to stay home and do nothing. Even if I were a meek, obedient wife—which my husband would assure you I am not—do you really think I would come out and openly support a man who would humiliate me by entertaining harlots barely a month after our wedding?’
‘I’d be hiding my head in shame, were such a man my husband,’ Mrs Winstead declared, giving Ben a baleful glance.
‘Exactly!’ Alyssa replied. ‘If it were true, why would Mr Tawny come here and face you, opening himself to criticism and condemnation? It would be smarter to remain in London and wait for the scandal to blow over.’
Appearing struck by that insight, Mr Winstead nodded. ‘Yes, that would make sense.’
‘Why is it that those who are evil cannot stand to see those who work for good succeed? That somehow, to justify their own petty meanness, they must seek to pull everyone down to their tawdry level? It near breaks my heart that a man as honourable and compassionate as my dear husband has been targeted like this! I am sure, Mrs Winstead, that you never put credence in idle gossip, nor pass on malicious rumours. I am sure you and your husband are just as outraged as I am by this slander and will do all you can to refute it. I can count on you, can I not?’ she asked, looking up at the Winsteads imploringly.
Ben had never been able to withstand a plea from those magnificent brown eyes. Apparently Mr Winstead wasn’t proof against them, either.
‘Bless you, little lady, for coming to support your husband,’ Winstead said. ‘Of course we will tell everyone you’ve come to help Mr Tawny confront and deny the story in the broadsheet. Won’t we, Mrs W.?’
Though his wife seemed made of stronger stuff, eventually she gave Alyssa a stiff nod. ‘Hate to see a wife embarrassed by her husband’s behaviour,’ she allowed, still giving Ben a suspicious look. ‘Aye, I’ll be happy to tell everyone you are here, defending him.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Winstead. That’s all I ask—that you give him a fair hearing and make your own decision. I do appreciate you taking the time to talk with us.’
‘My pleasure, Mrs Tawny,’ Winstead said. ‘Right eloquent little wife you’ve got yourself there, Mr Tawny,’ he added to Ben before tipping his hat to Alyssa.
‘She is a treasure,’ Ben said with heartfelt emphasis.
With that, the couple nodded and continued down the street.
As soon as they turned the corner, Ben seized Alyssa in a hug. Oblivious to the gawking patrons in the Hasty Farmer and the passers-by on the street, he drew her close and kissed her with all the passion, longing, despair and frustration built up in their ten days apart.
‘That’s the way to support your man,’ one of the patrons called from within the public house.
‘Someone oughta sketch that picture and put it on a broadside,’ another remarked.
Laughing, Ben linked his arm with Alyssa’s and led her away to the barkeep’s observation that he’d got himself a proper good politician’s wife.
Once they were a good ways down the street, out of hearing of anyone in the Hasty Farmer, Ben stopped. ‘Where? How?’
Alyssa chuckled. ‘I’ve settled my entourage at the Royal Crown, at the other end of the village. Let’s go to my chamber and I’ll explain everything.’
Ben might be filled with elation, gratitude and puzzlement, but once in a chamber alone with Alyssa, there was only one thing he needed as much as breathing.
‘Explanations later,’ he said as soon as they’d closed the door behind them. Branding her with a kiss, he picked her up and carried her to the bed.
* * *
A long, satisfying interval later, Ben reclined against the pillows, a naked Alyssa in his arms. After giving her a sip from the glass of wine he’d poured them, he said, ‘Now, tell me how you got here and why.’
‘Maggie wrote me what had happened. She thought I should get to decide whether to leave Liverpool and come assist you. Much as I esteem you for not wanting to force me into making a choice, she was right.’
‘I can’t tell you how much your support means to me. What it felt like to hear you so valiantly defending me.’ For a man who’d grown up so often hearing himself maligned. ‘You saw yourself how effective it was in swaying a hostile voter. And you say you have no political instincts?’
‘I had no strategy,’ she said, snuggling into him. ‘I just spoke the truth.’
‘But what about your sketches? The deadline? If you lose the opportunity to publish your work, I shall feel terrible, knowing I am responsible.’
‘If you want to debate responsibility, then in truth, it is mine. Had I not been determined to teach Denbry a lesson back at Dornton, your career would never have been threatened—twice. If the publisher holds fast to that deadline and I cannot meet it, so be it,’ she said with a shrug. ‘What you are doing is immensely important to the future of the country.’
‘It may not shape the future of the electorate, but great art is important, too, to delight the eyes, soothe the spirit and elevate the mind,’ he countered. ‘Few are gifted with the talent you have to create such magnificent images. You need to publish that volume.’
‘Perhaps. But while pondering the consequences of leaving Liverpool, I thought about what it means to me to be an artist. And I decided I’d been putting too much emphasis on that one work. Yes, it was a thrill, a dream that’s inspired me for years, to think of having my drawings compared to Audubon’s. But do I really want my work to reach only the rich, who will file away the volume in their libraries, where only a handful will ever see it? The impact of that scurrilous broadside has made me think that I’d rather reach a much broader audience, like Bewick did with his book. And do it under my own name, not masquerading as a man to please a publisher.’ She chuckled. ‘Just think—the wife of a Member of Parliament selling drawings under her own name? How shocking! I wouldn’t, of course, until this current scandal has been put to rest.’
‘Whether it is or not, I still win. With you at my side, anything is possible. Nor do I ever want you to sacrifice who you are to support me. Watching you on the street today, taking on that strident woman...’
Now that the moment was here, a lifetime of caution tempted him to hold back. Fighting it, Ben made himself continue. ‘I...I love you, Alyssa. I guess I’ve known it for
a long time and was too afraid to admit it. I can’t imagine having anyone else in my bed or in my life. I will do all I can to support and cherish you for the rest of yours.’
Tears sheened Alyssa’s eyes as she looked up at him. ‘Oh, Ben. How do you think I had the courage to risk my dream and come here? I love you, too, as frightening as it is to admit it.’
Scarcely daring to hope he’d heard her aright, Ben said, ‘I guess, together, we can work through those fears.’
She nodded. ‘You told me once I didn’t need to be afraid to give myself to passion, that it wouldn’t rob me of anything, but rather complete something I didn’t even know I was missing. Love is that way, too. What I felt for Will is nothing compared to the height and depth and fullness of what I feel for you. My life is richer for walking beside you, having two dreams to fight for—yours as well as mine.’
The truth of her words resonated through him, filling the dark and lonely places where the mocked child had cowered, driving out the doubts of the young man who had set his face against love. ‘Brilliant, as always, my darling,’ Ben said, giving her another kiss. ‘My life is richer with you beside me, fighting for both our dreams. And so we will continue to battle on, together.’
She smiled up at him. ‘Together for ever,’ she said and drew his head down for another kiss.
Epilogue
Three weeks later, after a stay in Taunton that succeeded in convincing the majority of the voters that the broadside was a slander, Ben returned with Alyssa to London. Leaving her the first morning to complete some important business of his own, he returned to discover from the butler that his father had come calling.
For the first time in his life, warmth and anticipation, rather than anger and resentment, filled him at that news. Smiling, he stroke into the parlour where Alyssa was pouring tea.
Convenient Proposal to the Lady Page 23
