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“I did not ask for your help.”
“The day may come when you need it.”
They rode another quarter of a mile in silence, though this one was less companionable than before.
Then Judith said, without looking at him, “It was not military information.”
Baines turned his head.
She stared ahead. “I never pass on military information.”
The wording mattered, he mused—and she admitted it.
“What do you pass on?”
She hesitated. “Information I believe ought to be known.”
“That is dangerously broad.”
“So is government secrecy.”
“You think everything ought to be public?”
“No, indeed.”
“Then who decides?”
Judith looked at him sharply. “Gentlemen in London appear to believe they possess exclusive rights to that privilege.”
Baines could almost admire the argument even while wanting to shake her for the risk she took. “You understand, surely, that people have died because of information circulating?”
Her face softened. “Yes.”
She offered no defence, no clever answer, merely yes.
“And you understand that if troop movements reach armed radicals, soldiers die?”
“Possibly.”
“Then why continue?”
Judith pulled her horse to a stop again, and this time her anger seemed less directed at him than at the subject itself.
“Because the information I send concerns people who are already suffering, Major. You heard Mrs. Bell. Her husband has no work, there are children in that cottage with scarcely enough food, yet gentlemen dine at my uncle’s table and speak of wage reductions as though they were calculating the cost of candles. They discuss withholding grain to raise prices and call it prudent. They speak of men being arrested for attending meetings as though imprisonment were a useful lesson to everyone else.”
“You cannot be sure everything you hear is true.”
“No, which is why I verify what I can before I pass anything on.”
Baines frowned. “Who receives it?”
She smiled without humour. “That I shall not disclose.”
He almost laughed. “It was worth the asking.”
They resumed their ride, and Baines’ thoughts began rearranging themselves whether he wished it or not. She was involved… partially… but not as Renforth feared.
Unless she was lying… He did not think she was.
