Taffeta
hotly.
“ Aunt Sissy, Taffy, listen
to Byron for he is so very eloquent on the subject,” he said and
then began reading: “Suppose it passed. Suppose one of these men,
as I have seen them—meager with famine, sullen with despair,
careless of life which your lordships are perhaps about to value at
something less than the price of a stocking-frame—suppose this man,
and there are a thousand such from whom you may select your
victims, is dragged into court to be tried for this new offense by
this new law. Still there are two things wanting to convict and
condemn him, and these are, in my opinion, twelve butchers for a
jury and a Jeffreys for a judge.”
Taffy clapped her hands and
pronounced, “There you are. Lord Byron is a much better man than I
was led to believe. I shall most certainly seek him out and applaud
him…”
“ No, you shall not,”
admonished her aunt. “He is not the sort of man you should be
interested in…” She added. “Nor is the Marquis of
Bruton.”
“ What had Lord Tarrant to
say about the bill?” Taffeta asked as casually as she
could.
“ He was absent,” answered
her brother.
“ You mean he did not take a
seat for such an important meeting?”
“ No, but it wasn’t going for
a vote yet, but it does look as though the Tories will have their
day, and the death penalty will pass.”
“ No … oh no…” Taffy cried.
“I can not believe Tarrant did not stand up against the
bill…”
“ What is all this interest
in the Hotspur?” asked Nigel.
She colored up. “I have no interest in
him as such, only in the fact that I have learned he carries a bit
of weight among his peers. He is not, by his own words, a
Tory…”
“ No, he is not a Tory,” Her
aunt Sissy stuck in. “But I have never known him to take an active
part in politics.”
“ Besides, I suspect he is
out of town,” said her brother.
At that point, Valiant appeared in the
open doorway and wagged his tail. She regarded him with interest as
he eyed the people he had surely grown to love and started to make
his way toward her. She knew he must have made some effort to
escape the kitchen and sniff his way to her. Apparently exhausted,
he plopped down only a few feet from the doorway.
Taffy laughed and ran to pick him up
and snuggle him, took him back with her to the sofa, and allowed
him to sleep in her lap. “Is he not beautiful, Aunt
Sissy?”
Her aunt regarded him approvingly, “I
must say for a mongrel … his black and white markings are quite
outstanding. He looks as though he might have Border Collie in him.
Yes, he is quite a nice little thing.”
Jarvis appeared and announced, “The
Marquis of Bruton.”
“ Drat!” said
Nigel.
“ Loose fish,” whispered
Seth. “Don’t like the blasted fellow.”
“ You may show him in Jarvis,
thank you,” said their aunt Sissy.
Seth looked surprised, “Didn’t think
you liked him either.”
“ Don’t … but he runs with
prince regent, and one does not wish to make enemies in that
quarter unnecessarily.”
Taffy had very definite views about
Bruton, but she wasn’t letting on just yet. She rather thought she
might need to further a friendship if she was to solve her dear
friend’s problem, so she kept her thoughts on Bruton to
herself.
At least with her, he had never
overstepped, and he had never bored her—there was that, and
probably only that, in his favor for as he walked into the room,
she once again concluded he thought too much of himself.
After placing a perfunctory kiss upon
her aunt’s hand, he bent over hers and said, “I have gone through
the agony of sitting in hell waiting for this moment.”
He brought himself up from her hand
and nodded to her brother and uncle who had no qualms displaying
their open displeasure with him. They were polite, but just
barely.
He took up the back of a Windsor chair
and pulled it near to where she sat. “May I?”
“ Of course,” she answered.
“Or did you think I meant to keep
hotly.
“ Aunt Sissy, Taffy, listen
to Byron for he is so very eloquent on the subject,” he said and
then began reading: “Suppose it passed. Suppose one of these men,
as I have seen them—meager with famine, sullen with despair,
careless of life which your lordships are perhaps about to value at
something less than the price of a stocking-frame—suppose this man,
and there are a thousand such from whom you may select your
victims, is dragged into court to be tried for this new offense by
this new law. Still there are two things wanting to convict and
condemn him, and these are, in my opinion, twelve butchers for a
jury and a Jeffreys for a judge.”
Taffy clapped her hands and
pronounced, “There you are. Lord Byron is a much better man than I
was led to believe. I shall most certainly seek him out and applaud
him…”
“ No, you shall not,”
admonished her aunt. “He is not the sort of man you should be
interested in…” She added. “Nor is the Marquis of
Bruton.”
“ What had Lord Tarrant to
say about the bill?” Taffeta asked as casually as she
could.
“ He was absent,” answered
her brother.
“ You mean he did not take a
seat for such an important meeting?”
“ No, but it wasn’t going for
a vote yet, but it does look as though the Tories will have their
day, and the death penalty will pass.”
“ No … oh no…” Taffy cried.
“I can not believe Tarrant did not stand up against the
bill…”
“ What is all this interest
in the Hotspur?” asked Nigel.
She colored up. “I have no interest in
him as such, only in the fact that I have learned he carries a bit
of weight among his peers. He is not, by his own words, a
Tory…”
“ No, he is not a Tory,” Her
aunt Sissy stuck in. “But I have never known him to take an active
part in politics.”
“ Besides, I suspect he is
out of town,” said her brother.
At that point, Valiant appeared in the
open doorway and wagged his tail. She regarded him with interest as
he eyed the people he had surely grown to love and started to make
his way toward her. She knew he must have made some effort to
escape the kitchen and sniff his way to her. Apparently exhausted,
he plopped down only a few feet from the doorway.
Taffy laughed and ran to pick him up
and snuggle him, took him back with her to the sofa, and allowed
him to sleep in her lap. “Is he not beautiful, Aunt
Sissy?”
Her aunt regarded him approvingly, “I
must say for a mongrel … his black and white markings are quite
outstanding. He looks as though he might have Border Collie in him.
Yes, he is quite a nice little thing.”
Jarvis appeared and announced, “The
Marquis of Bruton.”
“ Drat!” said
Nigel.
“ Loose fish,” whispered
Seth. “Don’t like the blasted fellow.”
“ You may show him in Jarvis,
thank you,” said their aunt Sissy.
Seth looked surprised, “Didn’t think
you liked him either.”
“ Don’t … but he runs with
prince regent, and one does not wish to make enemies in that
quarter unnecessarily.”
Taffy had very definite views about
Bruton, but she wasn’t letting on just yet. She rather thought she
might need to further a friendship if she was to solve her dear
friend’s problem, so she kept her thoughts on Bruton to
herself.
At least with her, he had never
overstepped, and he had never bored her—there was that, and
probably only that, in his favor for as he walked into the room,
she once again concluded he thought too much of himself.
After placing a perfunctory kiss upon
her aunt’s hand, he bent over hers and said, “I have gone through
the agony of sitting in hell waiting for this moment.”
He brought himself up from her hand
and nodded to her brother and uncle who had no qualms displaying
their open displeasure with him. They were polite, but just
barely.
He took up the back of a Windsor chair
and pulled it near to where she sat. “May I?”
“ Of course,” she answered.
“Or did you think I meant to keep
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