Page 57
“An excellent argument.”
Pembroke poured two modest measures and handed one across. “The newspapers are impossible to avoid at present. Half of them insist Scotland stands upon the brink of revolution, while the other half seem disappointed it has not occurred already.”
“Where do you stand?”
“Somewhere between the two, preferably at a safe distance.”
Baines took a sip of brandy. “Coward.”
“No, a realist. Have you ever met a man who has actually participated in a revolution?”
“I have met several.”
Pembroke paused with his glass halfway to his mouth. “Truly?”
“Frenchmen, mostly. They were remarkably less enthusiastic about the subject after twenty years of war.”
“That rather proves my point.”
“It proves revolutions are easier to admire before someone begins firing artillery.”
Pembroke walked towards the window and looked out over the grounds. “I do not want revolution.”
“No?”
“No. I want Parliament to have sufficient sense to prevent one.”
There was conviction in the answer, but no fervour. Baines had heard the difference often enough. Men planning violence spoke about change with a peculiar impatience. Pembroke sounded frustrated rather than fanatical, which did not absolve him, but did make him more interesting.
“Do you think reform would prevent another rising?”
“I think giving men lawful means of being heard might make unlawful ones less attractive.”
Baines rolled the brandy in his glass. “Cranford believes anyone who objects to hanging people for speaking too loudly favours revolution.”
“Reform and revolution are not the same thing.” Pembroke looked suspicious. “Are you going to report me?”
“To whom?”
“Whoever you soldiers report people to.”
Baines laughed. “My dear Pembroke, if the army reported every foolish political opinion uttered, we should require another army merely to carry all the records.” He silently apologized to Lady Beckenham for having just said the opposite.
“That is not an answer.”
“You are learning.”
Pembroke smiled despite his obvious disapproval. “I think Parliament ought to represent more than land.”
“That, my friend, is dangerous talk.”
“I think men should not starve whilst gentlemen debate whether starvation improves industry.”
“More dangerous yet,” he murmured, whilst agreeing wholeheartedly.
“I also think Peterloo was badly handled.”
Baines stopped smiling.
