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“The laird from Dundee,” Nash repeated, as if to jog her memory. “The one who gave the speech and has been charged with sedition. Do you believe he is in the right?”
“Why, of course! Did I not say that? He speaks for his fellow Scots demanding only fairness. I read his speech, reprinted in the weekly, and what I read urged reform, not rebellion. He did criticize the government for the massacre at Manchester, but I thought the criticism fair.”
Nash frowned at his coffee. “London fears the large crowds speaking against the government will lead to a revolution like the one in France.”
Anger rose in her chest. “If those in the government do not treat the workers more fairly, they will certainly have another rising on their hands—one led by Scots. Only this time, the Scots will not be seeking their freedom but, led by the weavers, they’ll be after fair pay and equal representation.”
She had watched him closely as he nodded, but it seemed to her he displayed little enthusiasm. His expression spoke only of resignation.
“Do the gentry in London agree with the government?” she had asked, hardly believing anyone could.
“The Crown approved of the yeomen’s harsh actions in Manchester and supports Lord Sidmouth’s new legislation. Many in the upper classes do as well. But perhaps not all.”
“Aye, one of our own, Alexander, the Duke of Hamilton, has given money to the relief being raised for the Manchester victims. Will told me the duke has written to your Sidmouth to warn him that using force like they did in Manchester could lead to insurrection in Scotland.”
“That is precisely what worries the government,” said Nash with a look of regret. “But still, you would have the man Kinloch go free?”
“I would. Can you not see, Nash? If Kinloch were thrown into prison, or worse, it would only give the weavers another reason to revolt.”
The whole discourse had reminded Ailie of the gulf that existed between them. Not just the place of their birth and their faith, but their politics. That being the case, it might be wise for her to remember that he would soon sail back to London and it would be as if he never came. Or would it? He had awakened her to passion and perhaps more. Could she ever forget him?
Before meeting her dogs and seeing to breakfast, Ailie wrote again in her diary.
22 December
A most troubling conversation with Nash Powell last eve has made me see the difficulty of any relationship with an Englishman. Or, perhaps ’tis just a relationship with a member of the gentry who believes the British Crown can do no wrong. But how can anyone believe that with the events in Manchester so fresh in everyone’s mind? The government still pursues the laird from Dundee, George Kinloch, in whom Nash and his brother Robbie appear to have an interest. I must ask them about that.
Another disturbing dream troubled my sleep last night. This time, I heard pistols being fired and saw men running through the streets of Arbroath. It was so real. What can it mean?
