A False Proposal by Pam Mingle

residence in her belly. Excitement and a lightness that made her feel buoyant. Whatever it was, it was both driving her to distraction and irritating her. She was having a great deal of difficulty focusing on anything else, even though she was trying to concentrate on accounts of the prime minister’s assassination in the morning papers.
    Jack entered the room in high good humor, grating on Cass’s already frayed nerves. “You might have told me about Adam’s plans,” she blurted out.
    Jack, busy heaping his plate with kippers, eggs, and toast, barely spared her a glance. “Good morning to you, too, dear sister. Pour me some coffee, there’s a good girl.”
    In an under voice, Cass applied some not very complimentary terms to her brother, but did as he asked.
    “Did you say something?” he said.
    She glared at him.
    At last settled, coffee cup in hand, he deigned to answer her. “I’m sorry, Cass. I should have. It all happened so fast, you see. And I thought you would not be interested in Adam’s affairs.”
    “But you know of my interest in politics! Enlighten me, please.”
    “The day after the Mainwaring’s ball, which was only a few days after I’d first run into Adam, we had a meeting at White’s. He asked for my backing for the Haslemere seat, and I agreed. That’s all there was to it, Cass.”
    “It may not be as simple as you think.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “The other seat—Sir William Broxton has it in his pocket. What do you intend to do about his man?”
    Jack waved a hand through the air, showing his utter lack of concern. “Apparently, he hasn’t attended the session in years.”
    Cass nibbled at a triangle of toast. “I see. I hadn’t heard that. Sometimes those members are the most troublesome ones to dislodge. Their patrons are ridiculously loyal to them.”
    “True. Adam’s riding down to see his father before joining the house party. He may know something. We talked about it last night. He’s hoping to get the lay of the land while there.”
    “Mightn’t his father oppose the scheme?”
    “Why should he?”
    She shrugged. “No real reason, except you said they’d been estranged for years. He might do it out of spite.”
    “Anything’s possible, I suppose, but it shouldn’t matter, in any case, unless Adam’s father wields a great deal of influence over Broxton.”
    “From what Hugh told me during dinner, Benjamin Grey has allowed his estate to decline drastically, including the tenants’ cottages. I cannot imagine he would be very well regarded any longer, if he ever was.”
    “Adam is not going to be pleased if things are as bad as all that. Of course, Hugh’s assessment may not be truthful, or accurate either.”
    “Surely Adam must have an inkling.”
    “I rather think not. If he suspected, wouldn’t he have mentioned it to me? By the way, in an attempt to be open and honest with you, I have posted a letter to Sir William about Adam, giving him my endorsement.” He gave her a sardonic look, but Cass didn’t rise to the bait. “He’s the only man Adam needs to sway. I say, will you pass me the newspapers?”
    Philippa and Cousin Louisa swept into the breakfast room as Cass was handing the papers over. The child ran straight for her brother, nearly spilling hot coffee down the front of his shirt. “Whoa, there, poppet,” he said, pulling her up onto his lap. It wouldn’t be much longer before she would be too mature to behave in such a way, Cass thought. In a year, maybe less, the youngest Linford wouldn’t be caught dead sitting in her brother’s lap.
    “Your sister is eagerly awaiting her lessons,” Louisa said, casting a sharp glance at Cass.
    “Indeed? Is that true, Philippa?”
    “No,” the little girl said without a moment’s pause. “Cousin Louisa is funning you.”
    A smothered laugh came from Jack. As well they knew, “funning” was not a part of their cousin’s character. Cass stabbed a few raspberries, washing them down with the