Several hours later, Gideon pulled her into his arms. “I will see that no harm comes to Lachlan. Promise me you will look out for Mama.”
Alisabeth nodded and he pressed his lips to hers. A soft, sweet kiss that made her long for a future and a family with him. She blinked back the tears. What if he could not save Lachlan, or Gideon was pulled into the fray? He nuzzled her neck and she breathed in his familiar scent of orange and spice.
“I love you, my sweet Lissie,” he whispered in her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin.
She clutched his great coat. “Dinna go, Gideon.” Throwing her arms around him, she kissed him back with a desperate passion. “I love ye with all my soul. My heart will wither away and die without ye.”
He grinned, mounted Verity, and tipped his hat. “I’ll see you soon, love.”
Lissie watched him ride away until he was only a speck on the road. She walked back inside to a flurry of servants, and Maeve shouting orders over the commotion.
“What is happening?” Alisabeth watched the woman who had appeared pale as death a few hours before. “What are ye doing?”
“Packing, of course. I’m the Countess of Stanfeld, lass, and my son willna be telling me what I can and canna do.” She patted Lissie’s cheek. “Now hurry, the carriage will be around soon.”
April 1, 1820
Glasgow, Scotland
* * *
A chill ran down Alisabeth’s spine as the carriage moved along a busy Glasgow street. Tension hung in the air, groups of men gathered in front of taverns and spoke in low voices. Others paired off in alleys with furtive glances to the side, as if a threat might come from any direction. Danger permeated the air, and she gripped Maeve’s hand. Signs were tacked up on street corners:
STRIKE IN SCOTLAND
BE HEARD ON 3 APRIL
A Committee for Forming a Provisional Government
* * *
“I dinna understand. Ian said he was part of a peaceful group. But these signs are demanding artisans to strike on Monday.” She rubbed her temples. “It doesna make any sense.”
“Gideon canna fight this. It’s been brewing for too long. These men are making a stand, and I doubt the English will let it remain peaceful.” Maeve peered out the window as they left the congested business area and entered the residential area. Their townhouse came into view. “It looks like Gideon went straight to the mill. Good, we’ll change and do the same.”
“He will be verra angry,” Lissie said, almost smiling as she thought of the tick in his strong, handsome jaw when he was irritated. “Please let me take the blame for this. I dinna want him upset with ye.”
“Nonsense. It was my idea and I take full responsibility.” The footman opened the door and barely had time to put down the steps before Maeve issued orders and rushed inside, ignoring the shocked look of the servants. “Unload the baggage and place it in our rooms. We will be here at least a week so send for extra help. When our maids, tell them we need assistance straight away.” With that she headed up the stairs.
Lissie gathered her skirts and tried to keep up. “Do we have a plan?”
“Of course. We’ll go to the mill and speak with Colin. If we see Lachlan beforehand, I’ll inquire about Fenella. That will shut my nephew up and make him scarce.” She grinned. “Once we have the details, we will speak with Gideon.”
“And if we see Gideon first?” That awful knot was back in her stomach. “He’ll turn us on our heels and send us right back to England.”
“He’ll have to carry both of us out if my intuition is correct about you. We’ve come this far, we canna stop now.” She turned at the doorway of her chambers after shooing in the lady’s maid. “We leave in ten minutes.”
* * *
The entire city seemed poised on the edge of a precipice. If someone had lit a match, she was sure Glasgow would have exploded into bits. There were more signs posted by the Committee. Some had been torn down and ripped to pieces. Alisabeth shivered as they pulled up in front of the factory. Across the street, a figure hovered in the alley. Shadow hid his face but something about him seemed oddly familiar. With an uneasy certainty, she knew the man was watching their arrival.
“Not everyone is in favor of this strike,” remarked Maeve. “There are too many hungry families who canna afford to lose a day’s pay, let alone a husband’s or father’s income.”
The coachman opened the door and handed the ladies onto the pavement. “You may return in an hour,” Maeve ordered as they entered the gloomy stone building.
The familiar sounds and sights of the looms at first put Alisabeth at ease. When Colin appeared, his massive form blocking the office door, panic seized her. What if she could not help Lachlan? What if she let them all down? She swallowed the self-doubt and took a deep breath, setting her shoulders. Maeve was here to help. A voice whispered to her that this was her chance to honor Ian and make things right for her and Gideon. Retribution for her husband’s death and atonement for loving another man.
“Lord Stanfeld said ye wouldna be coming.” Relief eased the creases about his light blue eyes and mouth. “I mean no disrespect toward his lordship, but Lachlan is convinced this fanatical group has the right of it. They mean to strike across the country with force if opposed, and I dinna see the English taking kindly to it.”
“My nephew is as pig-headed as his brother. He won’t stand in the shadows and let others fight for him.” Maeve walked past Colin and sat down in one of the mismatched chairs. “We must convince him there is a more imperative struggle right here.”
Lissie gave the man a tight hug and plunked down on the hard wood, letting Maeve’s words sink in. Yes, if Lachlan thought the mill was in jeopardy, he would remain here to protect it with his life. She blew out a breath as Maeve continued talking, a plan formulating as they each added their thoughts.
“The Committee called a meeting and Lachlan attended. Gideon has gone to find him. There are three new members that I dinna trust. They came looking for work a few months ago and made fast friends with Lachlan.” Colin rubbed his jaw. “I told him not to bring the jackanapes to a meeting but he wouldna listen. They’re rabble rousers, and I dinna ken which side of the fence they stand on. I’m afraid, come Monday, it will be a Peterloo Massacre all over again but more widespread.”
A chill rippled over Lissie’s skin. “I think someone is watching the building. Are the employees here joining the strike?”
“They’ve been told they willna be paid but willna be fired either unless they raise arms against us. It’s up to them, whichever way their conscience decides.” He grunted. “I’ve made it plain that it’ll do more harm than good, with families going hungry and men most likely dying.”
“I remember the uprising in Edingburgh when I was a girl,” said Maeve, pain clouding her eyes. “A horde of men dinna see reason and will follow whoever leads them. The wrong man at the front will cause chaos. Remorse willna bring back lost lives.”
The door slammed open, and Gideon’s shadow fell across the desk. Lissie forced herself to breath and turned to face him. His jaw tensed, a muscle ticking along the edge. She was prepared for the anger in his steely blue eyes but concern also creased his brow. Regret stabbed at her heart to cause him such worry but knew there was no other choice.
“Dinna go yelling at Lissie,” Maeve spoke, her hand up as if to hold off the explosion she thought was sure to come. “Once I’ve set my mind to something, ye canna change it. I admit it, I’m more obstinate than yer father.”
The corner of his mouth turned up, but the hint of his bitter smile vanished when Lachlan came up behind him “The appointment was cancelled. My cousin has been filling me on the military training that some groups have been providing. He doesn’t seem to understand that bearing arms against the government is treason. The penalty for treason is hanging. Only hanging, if you’re lucky.”
“I understand that wages for weavers and other skilled artisans were halved a dozen years ago. Petition after pet
ition has not increased their earnings since.” Lachlan’s stormy blue eyes flashed with disgust. “This is one of the few factories with a decent wage, and that’s only because Da insisted on it. Between the growing population of poor and constant cholera outbreaks, the people are being pushed into a rebellion.”
Alisabeth stood. “Ian wouldna want ye giving yer life for a cause that canna be won through violence. If ye stand with them, ye’ll die with them. I’m certain of it.” She placed a hand on his arm, her eyes pleading. “Come back to the house and talk this out. We’ll find a way without risking yer neck.”
The angles of his face hardened, and Maeve stepped in. “Lachlan, we’d never tell ye to ignore yer principles. But I would ask that ye use the intelligence God gave ye and make sure ye are going about it the right way.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly as he worked his jaw. “I’ll come with ye but I’m not making any promises.”
Colin let out a loud breath. “That’s all we ask, mon.”
Gideon escorted the women back to the carriage. “Is there some Scottish concoction we can put in his food tonight to make him see reason?”
Maeve laughed. “Now why would a Scot have a potion for that? We prefer to believe in the unexplained.”
Gideon tied the cravat, cursed, loosened it, and retied it again with another curse. He could strangle Lissie and Mama for being here. The two most important women in his life trapped in a country on the edge of revolt. If he hadn’t seen the Truth in those scoundrels’ flitting gazes, he’d pick both females up, throw them over his shoulder, and drag them home. Instead, he had to tell Lachlan that he’d looked into the eyes of three men in that tavern and spied treachery. Not heard a plot, or discovered a note, or found anything that would be real proof. Only that he’d seen it in the depths of their perfidious souls. He yanked on the waistcoat with a grunt of annoyance. He’d find the words. He had no choice.
In the drawing room, his cousin lounged on the burgundy velvet settee, his head lolled back against the intricate green and gold embroidery framing the cushion. He looked exhausted. His mother stood near the fireplace, the dancing flames showing dark shadows against her pale face and highlighting the streaks of silver in her auburn hair. He joined her and leaned against the mantel, accepting a glass of claret from a servant.
Alisabeth entered, a delicate gray muslin gown swaying against her shapely legs. Her smile maddened him and stirred his blood at the same time. He wanted to scoop her up, carry her up the stairs, and make love to her until she screamed with pleasure. God’s bones, he wanted this over so he could concentrate on making her his wife. He dismissed the servant and closed the door.
“Aunt Maeve was telling me about her dream. I admit it causes me more than a bit of alarm.” Lachlan began as soon as they were alone. “I want ye to know I dinna take it lightly.”
Gideon snorted. “I’ve made that mistake myself.”
Lissie settled next to Lachlan. “Colin is worried also. He thinks there are spies working within the weavers.”
“Three of them.” Gideon pushed away from the fireplace and paced. “They were at the tavern but not sitting together. They’ve had pamphlets printed and will distribute them over the next few days, inciting Scots to take up arms.”
“Which three men?” asked Colin, alert and following Gideon intently as he wore a path in the Axminster carpet.
He shook his head impatiently. “I don’t know their names.”
“But ye could recognize their faces? Their voices?”
“Their faces yes, not their voices. I didn’t hear a conversation.” Gideon tensed, waiting for the reaction sure to come.
“Then how in the bloody—”
“I saw the Truth in their eyes.” He yelled back at Lachlan. “It sounds insane, but I know without a doubt those men are not who they say they are. If you continue on your course, you will hang as a traitor.”
Alisabeth picked up her brother-in-law’s hand and held it between both of hers. “Lachlan, it’s true. He saw it in Ross Craigg’s eyes. Calum recognized the gift, and he’d tell ye to heed this warning.”
Lachlan narrowed his eyes at Maeve. “Aunt? I’m sure ye have an opinion. Ye dinna come all this way to sit in silence.”
She shook her head with a sad smile. “Ye ken how I feel. I’ve told ye my dream.”
He leaned on his knees and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Gideon, would ye come with me tomorrow afternoon? Since the assembly was dispersed, we set up a time to meet above a bookstore. I can try to dissuade some of them from joining the military drills, and maybe ye’ll recognize the three turncoats.”
Gideon breathed a sigh of relief. One catastrophe avoided. He prayed they had changed the course of Mama’s dream. “Yes, if you think I can help, I’m willing to accompany you. With the understanding that no one leaves this house.” He glared at Mama then Lissie. “We don’t need anything else to worry about. Is that understood?”
Alisabeth nodded solemnly. His mother grinned.
Gideon had left earlier that afternoon. Alisabeth leaned back on the chair, one leg propped over the armrest, her foot twitching restlessly. She couldn’t keep her mind on the book in her hand. Maeve looked up from her needlepoint when the butler entered the drawing room.
“My lady, a note has arrived.”
“Could they be done already?” Maeve tore open the envelope, unfolded the paper, and skimmed it quickly. “Please order the carriage right away.”
“But Gideon said—”
“This is from Lachlan. We’re to meet them at the mill.” She rose and smoothed her dress. “Let’s find out what our men have accomplished, shall we?”
Less than an hour later, the women entered the mill. Lissie recognized two of the older children who toted water buckets. She smiled at them and they bobbed to her with shy grins. When the ladies entered the office, Colin looked surprised.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, ladies?” He stood and met them at the doorway. “Lachlan and his lordship didna mention yer visit.”
“We received a note from Lachlan to meet us here.”
Colin scratched his head. “What did it say, exactly?”
Lissie’s chest tightened as she turned to Maeve. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
“It only said to meet him here and he’d explain. It looked as if it had been scrawled quickly. I assumed…”
Colin smiled reassuringly. “I’m sure it’s fine, Maeve. Please be seated and I’ll be right back.”
Alisabeth took a deep breath and wiped her sweaty palms against her skirt. She pushed down the panic that rose in her throat. The anxiety must have shown in her eyes.
“I think we’ve been duped. But why?” Maeve drummed her fingers on the wooden armrest. “Did they want us out of the townhouse or here in particular?”
Raised voices echoed from the hall. A bell began to clang. Lissie and Maeve ran into the large workroom and saw the employees running to the front of the building. Lissie sniffed. Smoke!
Colin barreled down the aisle. “The storeroom is in
flames. Out with ye, now!” He pushed them behind the other employees. The woman named Fenella, Lachlan’s mystery woman, shoved through the escaping crowd and tried to push past Colin. “No, lass. Ye’re going the wrong way.”
“I need to go upstairs and make sure the women heard the bell. I’ll meet you on the street.” She disappeared into the smoke-filled hall.
“What is a baronet’s daughter doing in our mill?” asked Maeve as they vacated the office.
“It’s a long story that I hope I have time to tell ye,” shouted Colin as he passed each loom and shut it down.
A crowd had gathered at the entrance, and the shrieks of panic grew steadily louder. They were not moving.
“The door is blocked,” someone shouted, “we’re trapped.”
Colin jumped on top of a loom. “This way!” He waved and pointed to another door. Jumping off the machine, he ran to the heavy steel door and pushed. It di
dn’t budge.
Maeve gripped Lissie’s hand. “Stay calm, lass, and we’ll find a way.”
She nodded and watched as Colin picked up a bucket and threw it at the window. The glass shattered and formed a jagged opening. He slammed the thick pane with another bucket until he created a hole big enough for a person. Yanking material from several looms, he threw the cloth over the serrated glass and climbed out.
Cries of terror followed him and another man scrambled on top of the machine to peer out the window. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “MacNaughton’s coming back. He’s got ladders.”
A bleeding Colin clambered back over the sharp edges of the windowsill.
“Up ye go!” Colin yelled to a young girl of twelve or thirteen.
He lifted the girl up as if she were a bag of cotton, and she disappeared over the uneven windowpane. The other man followed Colin’s lead, dropping a woman onto the second ladder. The workers pushed and shoved toward the safety. The smoke increased, billowing through the hall and into the workspace.
Lissie’s eyes watered, and she covered her nose to reduce the amount of smoke going into her lungs. “Maeve,” she called through the shawl, “you have to get out of here.”
“This is our mill and we’re responsible for these people. I’ll not leave before the women and children are out.” Maeve found a large box and set it in front of the loom. She stood on top, keeping two orderly lines for evacuation on either side. Her commanding voice seemed to calm the workers and the press of bodies eased.
A frantic young woman called two names over and over. “Mary, Frances. Oh lord, oh lord. Mary! Frances!”
“Is someone missing?” Lissie called to her over the din. “They may be outside already.”
The girl shook her head. “They haul carts back and forth to the store room. My wee brother and sister.”
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