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It was not enough to solve anything, but it helped, and after that, other opportunities presented themselves.
She heard of a magistrate privately admitting that reports of disorder had been exaggerated to justify restricting meetings. She heard a landowner boasting that wages could be lowered because disbanded soldiers had increased the number of men desperate for employment. She listened to a manufacturer explain that machinery would certainly displace dozens of workers but that it was not his duty to contribute to parish relief because, in his words, “industry could not be governed by sentiment.”
Judith had passed those snippets along as well. She had never wished to encourage rebellion. The news from Scotland frightened her far more than she admitted aloud. Demands for reform she could understand, and even a strike might be conducted peacefully, but once armed men confronted soldiers, reason rarely retained command for long. The poor would suffer whichever side declared itself victorious.
Judith wanted reform precisely because she feared revolution. The distinction seemed perfectly clear to her. She only wished she were certain Major Baines would see it in the same light.
The door opened, and Judith started so violently that the pen rolled from the desk.
She pushed the folded paper beneath the household ledger before turning and recognizing Edward.
Her cousin stopped just inside the room. “Good Lord, Jude. What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
He stared at her.
That had been badly done, she chastized herself. Edward had known her since infancy and could distinguish her different species of nothing with inconvenient accuracy.
“That was a remarkably guilty ‘nothing’.”
“I was working.”
“At what?”
“The accounts.”
“You look as though I caught you poisoning Uncle Lionel.”
“If ever I poison Uncle Lionel, it will be because he has invited forty-seven people into a house which accommodates twenty with comfort.”
Edward grinned and dropped into the chair opposite her. “Then I shall testify on your behalf.”
“Thank you.”
“You may still hang, of course.”
“I shall take great comfort from your loyalty.”
He reached for the ledger. Judith slapped one hand over it.
Edward stopped. His eyes moved slowly from her hand to her face. “What is beneath there?”
“Nothing.”
“That word again.”
“Edward…”
“Judith.”
They regarded one another across the desk until a knock interrupted them.
Judith gathered up the ledger, concealing the paper beneath it, and sat back.
“Come.”
Simmons entered. “Beg pardon, miss. Major Baines wished to know whether there might be a horse available for him this afternoon.”
