The Reluctant Bride. Meg Alexander

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The Reluctant Bride - Meg Alexander Mills & Boon Historical

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      “But surely the Government must help?”

      “The Government will do nothing, India, other than to order in troops to stamp out disaffection. Repression rather than compassion would appear to be the order of the day. Isham opposes this policy, I believe, although I am no expert on such matters.”

      India was startled by such vehemence. “Do you think so highly of him?”

      “I do, but from your tone I see that you do not.”

      “I don’t know him, Hester, but he is the strangest creature. I find him somewhat overwhelming…”

      “I hear that he is no Adonis, but surely that will not weigh with you?”

      “Of course not. He has presence, but…”

      “But you are a little afraid of him? You surprise me, India. In no time he will learn to love you. Then he will realise what a jewel he has won.”

      “You are biased, my dear. The plain fact is that his lordship needs an heir. That is his only reason for making me this offer.” India stopped. She had said more than she intended, and her bitterness must be apparent.

      “Nonsense!” Hester said roundly. “The man could have chosen any of a dozen females. I see that you do not find him very lover-like…”

      “No! At least he has spared me professions of his undying affection.”

      “Very sensible of him! He must have known that you would not believe it. Confess now, you would have despised him for uttering such sentiments?”

      She was rewarded with a reluctant smile. “How well you know me, Hester. I should not have welcomed falsehood. Whatever else, Isham is always frank.”

      “Well then?”

      “Oh, I don’t know. I suppose he injures my pride. He has a most unfortunate knack of putting me in the wrong.”

      “How so?”

      “Perhaps it’s because I am so quick to judge him. Only yesterday I had thought he meant to dictate to me when he warned me not to travel after dusk even close to home. I let him see my anger. Then I found that he was thinking only of my safety. I felt mortified by my own stupidity.”

      Hester nodded sagely. “He was thinking of the Luddites. You would do well to heed him.”

      “Luddites? Who are they?”

      “He did not tell you?”

      “He said something about disaffected labourers. I’ll admit I felt some sympathy for their cause…”

      “So did I until Father told us of their violence and now, he says, it is gone beyond attempts to destroy the machines and the factories. They are firing barns and hayricks and terrorising the countryside.”

      “Could he not speak to them? Uncle James is a reasonable man. If he promised to address their grievances…?”

      “What could he do for them? He cannot give them bread or work. Besides, no one knows who they are. They wear masks or blacken their faces, and visit savage retribution on those who inform against them.”

      “Can nothing be done?”

      “The Government is sending troops. They fear that we may follow France into revolution if these uprisings spread.”

      “The Terror? In England? Surely not.”

      “It happened in France just twenty years ago, and this movement is growing fast. It is well organised, with secret signs and passwords, and men are ‘twisted in’, or recruited, with special oaths.”

      “That does not sound like the work of the ordinary labourer.”

      “You are right. So many of them can neither read nor write, but letters have been sent to their employers and even to the Prime Minister, signed ‘General Ludd’. It seems that nothing will stop them, though the penalty for frame-breaking is already transportation and may become a capital offence.”

      India shuddered. “Thank heavens that Mama and Letty know nothing of this as yet. They are gone to the Vicarage this morning to spread the joyous news.”

      It was difficult to hide her bitterness. “I suppose I must tell them?” she asked.

      “India, they are sure to hear of it from one source or another.” Hester looked thoughtful. “You are right about the working men, I feel sure. There is something behind all this—some controlling intelligence which is playing upon their baser instincts.”

      “But they must be desperate,” India protested.

      “True! They are being forced to starve, but this is more than a plea to right their grievances. Men fighting for a just cause are often joined by those who have private scores to settle. Father is sure of it.” Hester rose to her feet. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

      “I doubt if anyone has a score to settle with this family,” India told her with a rueful smile. “I can’t recall that we have injured anyone.”

      “Of course not, dearest.” Hester embraced her fondly.

      “And shall you attend my wedding? I should like that above anything.”

      “You shall have my support, my love, and you take with you my good wishes for a long and happy life.”

      India was tempted to tease a little.

      “You shall not care to follow my example?” she asked wickedly.

      “Great heavens, no! My dream is to have a small house of my own. If my portion remains in my own hands I should write, surrounded by my books.”

      “Then that is what I shall wish for you. It sounds idyllic.”

      “It is unlikely to happen. Mother insists that I try another Season in the hope that I shall ‘take’ this time. She is such an optimist. My last attempt was a disaster.”

      “It was no worse than mine, I think…”

      “Oh yes it was! I am too outspoken and the gentlemen fled in droves…” Hester laughed out loud. “I did make one conquest, you’ll be pleased to hear. Can you believe it? I was attacked in the Duchess of Sutherland’s library by some ancient lecher who could hardly stand without the aid of a stick. I won’t name names, but my admirer was stone-deaf, which must account for it. Hugo had to rescue me. You should have seen his face…”

      Her amusement was infectious and both girls dissolved into peals of glee.

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