Chapter 1
1742
London
“Let’s just say, Your Grace, that I think this is a
perfect way to move us out of our gin crisis, but it will have to be carefully
executed,” Lord Duval, Earl of Berkshire said, smiling as he leaned back in the
beige upholstered chair.
The Duke of Dorset appreciated that Lord Duval had
done everything possible to make his presentation effective, including holding
it in his cozy-but-strictly-business library. A low fire burned on the hearth
between the Duke’s chair and the matching one in which Lord Duval sat. To Lord
Duval’s right, his desk was clear except for a single candlestick, a small
globe, and his writing set. The door leading to the rest of the London townhouse
was firmly shut in front of both of them.
“I have to agree,” the Duke replied with the corner of
his lip slightly curling upward. “Offering the populace tea as an alternative
is ingenious. I also agree that simply lowering the current tax on tea from
119% to only 12.5% will encourage even the commoners to purchase it. Did you
come up with this all by yourself, or did you work on it with others in
Parliament?” The Duke couldn’t help glancing at the well-stocked bookshelves
surrounding them. Lord Duval was a knowledgeable, well-read man—something hard
to find among those who had taken their seat in Parliament at a younger age like
the two of them had done. He leaned forward and raised a delicately decorated
porcelain cup to his strong lips for a sip of the very thing they were
discussing.
The Duke kept his black hair like he kept his own
estate–neat and well-organized. Unlike other men, who curled the hair on the
sides of their face, he tied all his back in a long braid to keep it tidy during
any activity he might choose to do on a whim. Even so, the Duke was not prone
to whims. That Lord Duval wore his hair neatly in a similar style only made the
Earl rise slightly higher in the Duke’s esteem.
When the Duke had first arrived at Lord Duval's
townhouse, he had been afraid the Earl would present an idea about yet another
tax on gin to fix Britain’s current drinking problem among the masses. It
seemed someone approached him nearly every day with that same idea. However, in
his opinion as a young history buff, the past had shown that taxes were not the
answer. In fact, he had only agreed to meet because Lord Duval had been so
helpful on a bill he had proposed last year. The Duke felt that he could not
refuse to at least hear the Earl’s idea. He was charmed that this meeting he
felt obliged to attend turned to one of pleasure with a fresh idea that had
merit. Instead of taxing gin, they would subsidize tea. It would take a while
for Parliament to accept a plan to lower taxes and lose any subsequent income
from them while increasing money spent to subsidize something, but the
government would have to make it up somewhere else. The more the commoners
consumed gin, the less work they accomplished and the more the economy suffered.
“I must confess: I am only partially responsible for
this plan,” Lord Duval began with a tinge of pride in his voice. “My new
sister-in-law—”
A loud commotion began in the hallway and ended with a young lady of perhaps eighteen bursting through the door and interrupting the conversation. Her topaz-colored hair was drifting menacingly out of its cap like a darkening storm cloud, while her blue eyes flashed lightning. The Duke was slightly shocked to see a woman in such disarray and passion, but at the same time, he felt an odd pang of attraction that he quickly brushed aside as mere surprise.
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