Page 172 of The Unlikely Pair

“Order. Order in the House,” the Speaker calls. “The Right Honourable Gentleman must be heard.”

I clear my throat, willing my voice not to waver as I say my next words.

“And I cannot remain in a party where members don’t believe in this basic human right, where we tolerate those who preach intolerance and hatred, where we condone those who are trying to force their own religious beliefs onto others.

“So, it is with deep regret and sorrow that I announce my resignation as leader of the Conservative Party and from the party itself. I will continue to do my best for the people of Brambleshire as an independent MP, and I will always, always be a voice for the people who need me to speak up for them.”

The Chamber descends into utter chaos. MPs on both sides of the aisle are on their feet, shouting and gesticulating, a mad scramble of motion and noise.

But I ignore it all as I stare across the Chamber, focused on the only thing that actually matters.

Toby’s smile.

Chapter Fifty-One

Toby

Holy fuck. Did that actually happen?

Harry stands at the opposition’s despatch box, positioned two sword lengths from the government’s despatch box.

The whole House is in an uproar, but Harry ignores the pandemonium around him.

Instead, he stares at me.

He’s flawed. He has beliefs I don’t agree with. I obviously have major issues with his family.

He’s alsomine, in a way no other person will ever be.

And I’m fairly sure everything I feel for Harry, how I feel about what he’s just done, is expressed in the smile plastered on my face right now.

“Order, order,” the Speaker calls again, but his authority stands little chance against the din that has engulfed the Chamber.

“Order! Order in the House!” the Speaker bellows, his voice straining to be heard above the noise. “The level of disorder in the Chamber is unacceptable. In light of the current disruption, I am suspending the sitting for thirty minutes to allow the House to calm down.”

The moment the House is dismissed, Harry is moving, ignoring everyone, his long strides taking him out of the Chamber.

I push through the crowd to follow him through the Members’ Lobby along the Commons Corridor. I follow him through the Central Lobby where, above each of the four exits, there are mosaics depicting the patron saints of the United Kingdom: St George for England, St Andrew for Scotland, St David for Wales, and St Patrick for Ireland.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a message from Oliver.

All right…I might learn to like him.

Oliver has obviously been watching the parliamentary channel of proceedings in the House of Commons.

It makes me smile, but I don’t pause in my strides to reply to him. Because I have to find Harry. Nothing matters more than that.

I follow him into St Stephen’s Hall, built on the remains of St Stephen’s Chapel, where the House of Commons used to sit until it was destroyed by fire.

“Harry,” I call softly.

Harry stops. He swivels to face me.

There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, a raw emotion that takes my breath away. In this moment, he seems stripped of all his polished politician layers. He’s simply Harry, the man who loves me.

The man I love in return. Which I probably should let him know at some point.

No time like the present.