Clyde evaded Sam’s question with the ease of a natural politician. “You needn’t fear for the livestock, Sam. My plan will assure every animal is properly accounted for. Livestock are valuable creatures.”
The tension around Sam’s mouth eased. “I think so too.”
The fact that Sam was still traumatized by what happened to Bandit seared, and Marianne shot a glare at Andrew. “You should be so proud.”
The subtle insult was understood by everyone at the table except Sam, but Andrew didn’t bat an eyelash. “I am, Marianne. I am,” he said smoothly.
No normal family would tolerate what happened to Bandit. Their family was blessed with wealth and privilege. They had everything anyone could ever need, and yet still people had to walk on eggshells, fearing the next outburst, scandal, or unforgiving punishment. Who was to blame for all this?
She looked at Andrew, then at Clyde, the leader of their family. She stood and addressed her father. “Why do you tolerate this? Why do you look the other way?”
She truly wanted to know. This wasn’t how a loving family should operate, but Clyde was the only one with the authority to put his foot down and demand change.
A pause lengthened in the room, disturbed only by a few birds chirping outside the window. Her heart pounded, and she prayed that Clyde would see reason even as she quaked in fear of his reaction.
“Sit down, Marianne.” He spoke calmly, but the order was unmistakable.
She sat, a complete and total coward. This family was off-kilter, and she was too fainthearted to correct it. Could she live with this the rest of her life? She loved Sam and her parents too much to imagine leaving. Even though they sometimes made her frustrated and angry, she would be unmoored without them, so she’d sat down like a coward.
“My speech is scheduled for one o’clock,” Clyde continued. “I suggest everyone arrive early so we can have lunch in the congressional dining room beforehand.”
Marianne intended to see Luke this morning, not spend the day at the Capitol. She chose her words carefully.
“I need to pick up my list of assignments from my supervisor,” she said. “It’s what I always do on Monday morning.”
“But not today, surely,” Clyde said. “Your mother wants everyone to ride in the carriage as a group to the Capitol.”
It was time to gather the threads of her shattered courage and fight for something. Luke had to be her priority this morning, not submitting to the niceties of her maladjusted family.
“I’ll still have plenty of time to make my way to the Capitol for your speech after I see my supervisor.”
“You’re not riding with us?” Delia asked pointedly.
“I have a job,” she replied as she rose, eager to leave the table. “I need to pick up my list of assignments for the week, and I’ll meet everyone to watch Father’s speech at one o’clock.”
She did indeed pick up her assignments, but by eleven o’clock she was headed to the jail to see Luke. Would they let her see him? She’d never visited an incarcerated person before, and maybe there were restrictions or procedures.
It wasn’t going to be easy. She learned that the moment she walked through the main doors and asked to visit a prisoner. She was directed down a maze of poorly lit and twisting hallways where visitors were instructed to ask permission. She took her place at the end of the line and waited, glancing nervously at the clock ticking on the wall and hoping she’d have enough time to visit Luke and still see her father’s speech.
At last it was her turn, and she approached a thickly muscled officer manning the counter. “Your relation to the prisoner?” he asked.
“A friend.”
“No friends can visit,” he said brusquely. “Family or legal counsel only. Next.”
He turned his attention to the next man in line. It was a blow, but there was no point in arguing with a man who didn’t have authority to change the rules, especially since she had other allies in this building. Superintendent Castor had been a decent man when he met with her in February. He’d been disappointed in the Department of the Interior’s lack of action from the pictures she’d taken. Perhaps she could persuade him to let her take more today.
The superintendent’s secretary gave her the bad news. “He’s in meetings all morning, but he has an opening at three o’clock if you can come back.”
Marianne had no choice but to agree.
Troubles with the streetcar delayed Marianne’s trip back to the Capitol, and it was five minutes after one o’clock when she finally arrived. An usher opened the door to let her slip inside the gallery overlooking the House floor, and her mother shot her an incendiary look, for her father was already speaking. At least Sam sent her a cheerful wave before going back to hanging on the railing to watch Clyde in the chamber below.
Marianne crept toward an empty seat, wincing at the squeak it made as she sat. She ignored the poisonous look Delia sent her and scanned the House floor. What a disappointment! Only a dozen congressmen were in their seats, and her father spoke to a mostly empty chamber. Still, she straightened in pride as she watched. Clyde urged a revised system of taxation for livestock that would benefit small ranchers throughout the country. It was a well-reasoned proposal. The fact that Magruder Food would benefit if this legislation passed shouldn’t be held against him.
What a shame there weren’t more people to hear it. Her gaze traveled to a cluster of spectators in the front row of the gallery. Given how they were jotting notes on pads of paper, she suspected they were journalists, and one was looking directly at her.
Dickie Shuster. His yellow jacket was so loud, she was surprised it was permitted in these dignified chambers. He sent her a smile and a nod, and she returned it. Barely. Luke had warned that Dickie had long known the scandal about her birth, and it was disconcerting to see him here.
Her father’s speech came to an end, and time was allotted for questions from the floor. Marianne scanned the few congressmen in the chamber, hoping one of them would raise their hand as her father patiently waited to field questions. He’d been preparing responses to possible challenges for weeks, but no one seemed to be paying any attention. After a few moments, the man sitting in the speaker’s chair broke the silence.
“Seeing no questions, the House shall now move for the presentation of a bill to provide pensioner burial stipends, sponsored by the gentleman from Rhode Island. Thank you, Congressman Magruder.”
Clyde gathered his notes and left the podium. That was it?
Clyde returned to his seat while another man rose and began his presentation, but it all seemed rather anticlimactic. Apparently the only congressmen gathered in the chamber below were ones who had speeches lined up to deliver to the nearly empty room.
She leaned over to Vera. “Can we go now?”
“Shh!” Vera said angrily. Marianne’s tardiness still annoyed her mother, but it was hard to sit here and listen to pension benefits when she had a three o’clock meeting with the jail’s superintendent. A glance at the others indicated they all intended to sit quietly and listen to the rest of the presentations this afternoon. How could she escape?
Her gaze landed on Dickie Shuster, who gave her another smile and then a pointed look toward the exit door. He wanted to speak with her.