All the lords were present in the chamber of the House of Lords—the hereditary peers, the Lords Spiritual, and the Law Lords.
Everyone had taken their seats. Directly across from me in the front row sat the Lord Chancellor upon the Woolsack, settling into place last of all.
The low murmur of conversation ceased, and an eerie silence enveloped the entire hall.
Then the Lord Chancellor spoke.
"Noble Lords will confine themselves to the matter before the House…"
He cast a meaningful glance across the assembly and continued,
"The noble Lords will await their turn and address the House from their seats only when permitted!"
And finally,
"And… the House expects noble Lords to maintain decorum at all times…"
Once more, that strange silence descended.
It suited me well—I hoped at least in the quiet my headache would stay away.
But my advisor's words suddenly echoed in my mind: "The taxes have risen too high." That single phrase, spoken outside the chamber, ruined any chance of enjoying the hush.
Instead, it compelled me to be the first to speak.
A bad feeling twisted in my gut, yet if higher taxes worked against my interests, I had no choice but to don the invisible mask of politics.
I would use cunning, diplomacy, or even whatever influence I possessed.
Of course, these were only possibilities. Did I truly have influence?
I was the Duke of Manchester, but did I really hold enough power to open the deba
I knew nothing for certain, so I decided to stand first—either the Lord Chancellor would order me to sit and humiliate me, or he would grant permission to speak.
Slowly, I rose from my seat, standing straight and courteously, my eyes fixed on the Lord Chancellor.
I had no idea if this was the proper procedure; I simply did what felt right.
As I held his gaze, he gave a slight nod of approval.
I felt eyes turning toward me, the weight of attention pressing down.
Keeping my expression stern, I began.
"With the utmost respect to the Lord Chancellor and the noble lords of this House…"
I paused briefly, then continued with complete gravity.
"Unlike previous years, the land taxes upon the estates of the nobility have risen dramatically this year. Should this upward trend continue, it may render some among the peerage unable to meet their obligations…"
My words hung in the air, making the atmosphere even heavier.
Eyes locked on me. The dukes seated beside me in the front row either smiled faintly or gave subtle nods of agreement.
Seeing this, a sliver of confidence returned, and I pressed on.
"In past decades, the burden upon noble estates was more moderate, allowing industry to flourish and our communities to thrive…"
I allowed another short silence, then resumed with unwavering seriousness.
"If the current rates persist, certain peers and landowners may struggle to fulfill their duties—a development that could jeopardize not only the stability of noble houses, but the very prosperity of Great Britain herself!"
From the corner of my eye, I caught glimpses of the front row. The dukes there wore small, satisfied smiles.
Emboldened by the sense that I had their support, I concluded,
"I am certain it is the wish of this House to examine these matters with the greatest care, that both order and progress may be preserved…"
I paused once more, then calmly returned to my seat.
As I sat, the young Duke of Newcastle stared at me with mild astonishment.
The silence and tension in the chamber had intensified.
I had no idea whether I had spoken wisely or committed some grave discourtesy.
So I resolved to remain silent and not rise again for any further debate.
Only moments passed before a member of the Lords Spiritual stood.
The Lord Chancellor nodded permission to him as well.
Once granted leave, the bishop began.
"With the utmost respect to the Lord Chancellor and this noble House…"
He paused briefly before continuing,
"With all due respect, I must oppose the view expressed regarding taxation…"
The atmosphere turned chilling. The dukes in the front row frowned or directed stern gazes toward the Lord Chancellor.
The bishop went on.
"It is essential that we consider the welfare of all estates and ensure no undue burden falls upon them. Accordingly, taxes have been apportioned according to each peer's holdings…"
He cast a quick glance toward the hereditary peers and added,
"Continuing exorbitant taxes upon ordinary citizens could endanger the moral and social order this House has sworn to uphold. Therefore, rather than heavily taxing those of modest means, greater contributions should come from peers who possess vast estates and wealth—as I have already stated, taxation is scaled according to individual means…"
Even though I could only see the front row clearly, the dukes there were visibly tense, some openly displeased.
I was still processing this when the same bishop concluded,
"Historically, moderation in such matters has preserved both stability and prosperity; we must not abandon that caution."
The chamber fell silent again.
Then another lord rose. As before, the Lord Chancellor nodded permission.
After the customary courtesies, he said,
"With all respect, I must disagree with the noble lord's assessment…"
Without lengthy pause, he continued,
"While moral considerations are duly noted, we must also weigh the practical consequences for the nobility and their estates…!"
Several more peers rose in turn, offering observations or opposing the bishop's view.
Once or twice, Law Lords stood to address the legal implications of reducing noble land taxes.
When all had spoken, the Lord Chancellor declared,
"All those in favour?"
The hereditary peers—dukes, marquesses, earls, viscounts, and barons—nodded or called out "Aye."
From my limited view, it seemed the vast majority of hereditary peers supported the motion.
The Lord Chancellor surveyed the chamber and asked,
"All those against?"
Only a few quiet voices answered, likely from the Lords Spiritual or certain Law Lords.
"No…"
Clearly, those in favor of lowering noble land taxes far outnumbered the opposition.
The Lord Chancellor spoke calmly.
"The Ayes have it. The question is carried…"
Smiles returned to the faces of the dukes in the front row. The young Duke of Newcastle drew a deep, relieved breath.
Then the Lord Chancellor announced,
"The House will now proceed to the next business, if any…"
Silence returned. Smiles faded, and the heavy mood settled once more.
The Lord Chancellor and the Deputy Speaker consulted a sheet of paper briefly.
Finally, the Lord Chancellor took a deep breath and said,
"There being no further business, this House stands adjourned…"
Smiles and quiet smirks reappeared. Everyone rose from their seats.
I allowed myself a small smile of my own—one born of relief that I had successfully worn the invisible mask of politics and behaved like a true statesman without any misstep.
I drew a deep, steadying breath for my own peace of mind.
Then, along with the others, I stood and made my way toward the chamber doors.