Spirit of the Nation ★ Female America

7. Addressing Parliament

January 7, 1959

The House of Lords

London, United Kingdom

"My lords, our guest speaker today needs no introduction, as she is the first American to step within these hallowed halls."

I shifted uncomfortably on the red leather bench behind the Leader's podium. England sat on the front row across from me with a well-pleased look on his face. I intentionally avoided looking at him as I swallowed down my nerves.

"She is the Nation of our greatest ally. Our transatlantic cousin, and our dear friend. America."

I rose to a chorus of hear, hear's rather than the usual applause I was accustomed to. When I lowered the microphone, the sharp feedback made me wince.

"Um, thank you, Mr. Leader. And good afternoon...my lords."

I placed my note card on the podium and looked up. Dozens of expectant faces stared back at me. I looked back down.

"I'm not good at giving speeches. I usually leave these up to the politicians, and sometimes the actors." I smiled when a few people laughed. "However, I was honored in every possible way by your invitation to speak here today."

I cleared my throat. "Mr. Churchill, who himself is half American, often says that the United States and the United Kingdom have a 'special relationship.' And I agree. But as some of you might recall, it wasn't always the 'nice' sort of special."

Laughter ripped across the room.

"I was there when the Declaration of Independence was signed. I was there when the last of the redcoats were booted out of New York Harbor. I was also there when they came back and set fire to half of Washington."

A few nervous laughs turned into hearty laughter only when I smiled.

"However," I continued, "over the course of nearly two centuries, and two terrible wars, our nations have forged a close bond based on shared beliefs. Beliefs in freedom, justice, and the upholding of human rights. This bond has overwritten deeply held prejudices, and even history itself."

Voices rumbled in agreement. I flipped my card over, out of words and out of breath. Without thinking, I looked squarely at England. He smiled, and my heart fluttered.

"Thank you, all of you, for your unwavering friendship in times of war and in times of peace. May God bless the United Kingdom. And may God save the Queen."

Breaking with protocol, members began to stand and clap. I bowed my head gratefully as I backed away from the podium. The Leader rose and firmly shook my hand.

As the House resumed its afternoon session, I slipped out the back. The relief I felt was sweet after so many weeks of anticipation. As expected, England caught up with me in the gilded foyer.

He took my shoulder and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "You were brilliant."

"Thanks," I breathed out. I looked anywhere but his face. "My flight back is tonight, so I should probably..."

He responded with pure confusion. "But you've only just arrived."

"I know," I said curtly. "I have business in Washington tomorrow, so..."

I finally managed to look up at him. His eyes searched mine repeatedly, disappointment growing. "I've not seen you in four years," he murmured. "At least stay for dinner."

I forced an uneasy smile. "Sure."

The upscale restaurant was not my style, but it was certainly his. Our candlelit table sat in a private corner of the dining room, rather close to the kitchen, and the head chef personally delivered our meals. It wasn't an accident that our dinner conversation started out exclusively NATO-related as I actively evaded his personal questions. Eventually, he picked up on this.

"So unlike you."

I blinked in faux confusion as I cut my perfectly seared steak. "What do you mean?"

England leaned his chin on his fist, looking almost bored. "Talking about anything but yourself."

I scoffed as I lifted my wine glass. "Are you calling me a narcissist?"

"That wasn't my intention," he murmured. His voice lacked its usual quip, and his face lacked its usual smirk. In fact, the careful attention he was giving me was quite intimate. "I enjoy hearing about you. Your troubles. Your feelings."

My eyes darted away. I had walked into the exact situation I wanted to avoid, and my mind immediately began conspiring how to get out. His utensils clattered on his plate when he set them down.

"Not that it needs to be said, but..."

My heart started pounding.

"I care about you. Profoundly."

I shot to my feet. Unable to look him in the eye, I watched my knuckles turn white as I clutched the edges of the table. His words stirred feelings within me that were uncontrollable, strange, and frightening.

My next words exited my mouth as soon as they appeared in my mind. "I really should be going. Thanks for dinner."

The utter pain in his eyes was the last thing I saw. It stayed with me hours, eating away at my stubbornness and decisiveness until I didn't even know what I wanted anymore.