The Aristocrat's Lady (Love Inspired Historical) by Mary Moore

her heart to race.
    “Gentlemen,” Lord Devlin began in a deep baritone, “I am aware that the topic I am about to address is not important to most of you, so I will be as brief and concise as I am able. However, I shall do my utmost to make you understand my views. And I pray that after you have heard me, you will seriously consider voting for the veteran reform I propose for next month.”
    Devlin spoke in a voice she had never heard from him. He was obviously good at public speaking, and he sounded convincing and forceful. The resonance of his voice was masterful. She waited with bated breath for his expansion on the topic.
    Suddenly his words stopped, but she could hear him moving about, directing quiet comments to specific individuals. When he spoke again, he did not sound the least bit nervous, but authoritative and deliberate.
    “Many of you know my views on pension payments for the soldiers now returning home from the war in France.” His voice reverberated around the quiet room. The silence was almost immediately broken by groans from spectators below and around her. Truth to tell, she had a difficult time keeping a groan from escaping her own lips. She sat stunned, hoping against hope that he was on the side of the poor soldiers. She prayed he did not align himself with the many who felt the returning soldiers should cope on their own. She quickly turned her attention back to his speech.
    “All of us in this room owe our very freedom to the men who are returning now and who valiantly, and voluntarily, fought to keep that freedom. For too many years these brave men have been coming back to theirhomes and families who have tried to hold things together without them. I believe they should begin receiving a stipend from the government to help them get back on their feet.”
    Nicole’s heart thundered an applause that would have drowned out any actual ovation!
    But such an ovation did not occur.
    A male voice from the floor below interrupted her thoughts with a loud bellow. “You will break us, man! We have not the funds to pay men for doing duty they have already done. They were paid while fighting!”
    A gavel sounded while a stern voice reprimanded the gentleman who had interrupted. “Let me remind you, sirrah, that Lord Devlin has the floor.”
    Devlin patiently answered his detractor, “I am aware, my lord, that England’s coffers could not stand up to full pensions for all of our fighting men. What reason would I have to bankrupt England’s treasury? That is not my intention. Many who fought were your own younger sons and thereby had some wealth of their own to come home to. My bill is intended for those in need, and all I ask is that you read it and digest it before next month’s vote.”
    It irritated Devlin that these rich and powerful men begrudged stipends to the war veterans. However, now was not the time to show his disdain. He continued in an authoritative tone, “My proposal is for three separate groups of returning soldiers. The first group is men without families who come back whole and perfectly capable of working. In those cases, I propose we would not have to pay any pension at all. We would set up agovernment bureau to specifically get these men settled into jobs as soon as possible. We have such agencies to find middle-class females employment, yet we have no such provision for our men.”
    Nicole could not have moved a muscle if she tried, so intent was she on hearing his next words.
    “The second group will be those men who are whole and unhurt but have families who have been trying to keep their farms or businesses going while they were away. I propose in those cases, the families be paid a monthly stipend for six months to one year. It would be capital they could invest back into their living.” The members started to rumble once again. “Consider, gentlemen,” he had to speak louder over the din, “that many of these soldiers are tenants on our lands. That can only help us in