Page 18 of The Rules of Matrimony (The Matchmaking Mamas #4)

There was nothing like going up against a secretary of state, and Ian had been doing exactly that. Mr. Robert Peel was an intelligent man, but he was also a politician, and there were procedures to changing law and timelines to follow. Not to mention, Peel had previously committed to other causes. Ian’s persuasions were hitting a brick wall, but he would not give up. “I’ve gone over to the Old Bailey courthouse and seen the records. Our executions have increased dramatically over the last century.”

Mr. Peel sighed. “So has crime, unfortunately.”

Ian hunched over Mr. Peel’s desk, hoping the increased proximity would help the man see the urgency Ian felt. “Yes, yes, especially after the end of the war. But our system isn’t creating more order, is it?”

Mr. Peel leaned forward, too, apparently not one to be easily intimidated. “We have limited resources to police and keep order in our country. Our prisons are overflowing and disorderly. I want change as much as anyone, but it must be done step-by-step. You speak as though you want to overturn it all at once.”

“The fastest way to empty a bottle is to break it,” Ian said.

Mr. Peel shook his head. “I won’t break this country.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to break a system and save lives.”

A few minutes later, Ian left his meeting discouraged. Mr. Peel was sympathetic to the cause, but he was pushing too many of his own platforms to take on this one too. And he, like many others, valued law and order and did not want to worsen the state of the nation by disrupting it.

Returning to his townhome, Ian longed to sit in his favorite leather chair for the entirety of the day and forget about all his problems. But he hadn’t made it two feet into his home when his butler, Mr. Jones—a steady fellow with more sense than hair—stopped him.

“We did not expect you back so soon from Oak End, your lordship.”

“I had business I had to address in Town.” Ian handed Mr. Jones his hat. “How are Edna’s younger sisters managing in the kitchen?”

“Cook is quite taken with them, your lordship.”

“Very good.”

Mr. Jones dusted off the top of Ian’s hat. “Will your wife be joining you here?”

Wife . That word never ceased to rattle him. “No, she won’t.”

He took a step past Mr. Jones, but the man followed him. “Should I send a letter to your parents to inform them of your return?”

Ian’s whole body shivered at the idea of facing his father again so soon. “No, thank you. That will not be necessary.” Another step toward the drawing room. He was almost there.

“I merely thought to stop their journey if they have not already left, your lordship.”

Ian paused and looked over his shoulder. “Has my mother returned to Brookeside?”

“No, your lordship,” Mr. Jones said. “Lord Kellen and your mother planned to travel to visit you and your new wife at your hunting box.”

Ian whirled fully to face Mr. Jones, his pulse galloping like a herd of wild horses. Frightened wild horses. “When did you hear this?”

“Only this morning, as some of the staff have been given a bit of a holiday, as they won’t be needed until your family returns.”

“Blast.” Ian marched back to Mr. Jones and took his hat from the man’s hands. “It looks as if I am returning to Oak End post haste.” As much as he couldn’t let his parents discover the truth behind their sham of a marriage, he also didn’t dare leave Amie unprotected with his father. He could hear his father’s condescending voice without any effort of his own, and he didn’t want his father’s negativity hurting Amie’s feelings or leaving her insecure. If Ian left now on horseback, he could beat their carriage.

His marriage had made it this far, and he would protect what was his.