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Guy didn’t bother to wait for Hawthorne’s response before he shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking down the street. He had no interest in continuing this conversation with Hawthorne. It was better for everyone involved if he just disappeared from Anmore after his assignment was complete.
So why did leaving Miss Locke behind feel like a mistake?
He had fancied himself in love before, but it paled in comparison to what he felt for Miss Locke. If he told her the full truth of who he was, he had no doubt she would reject him. She was good and kind, and he was not. He had done some terrible things as a Bow Street Runner. It was only a matter of time before he did equally horrific things as an agent of the Crown.
But this was his life now, albeit lonely. It was much simpler that way.
The coffeehouse loomed ahead, and he turned into the alleyway. He knocked on the back door, and Burke answered it.
“Come in,” Burke said, opening the door wide.
After he stepped inside, Burke closed the door and locked it. Guy glanced around the room and saw the usual faces from the previous meetings. None of them paid him any heed as he sat down at one of the round tables.
Burke stepped towards the front and cleared his throat. “Now that we are all here,” he said, “I want to share that we have the date of the strike planned.”
A collective cheer went up around the room.
Burke put his hand up. “I have spoken to the foremen at the colliery, and they are all on board,” he shared. “Once the workers fail to show up for work, we will notify Mr. Huxley at the bank that we would like to negotiate.”
A man spoke up. “What prevents Mr. Huxley from firing everyone at the coal mine?”
“If he does that, it will take weeks before the coal mine is up and running again,” Burke said. “It would be in his best interest to sit down and talk to us.”
“Won’t the constable arrest us for forming a trade union?” another man asked.
Burke turned his attention towards Guy. “That is where Mr. Stewart comes in,” he shared. “He is going to negotiate for us.”
“Pardon?” Guy asked.
“If we step forward, revealing our identities, we will be arrested, but you can do it in our place,” Burke said. “With any luck, you can negotiate the terms without the constable even knowing that it took place.”
Guy rose from his chair. “What makes you think Mr. Huxley will listen to me?”
“Mr. Huxley will have no choice,” Burke said. “The coal mine will be losing money by not operating, and Mr. Huxley is only concerned about money.”
“That is a risky assumption,” Guy remarked.
Burke put his hands out wide. “Once the newspaper catches wind that six collieries went on strike, Parliament will be forced to take notice. They won’t be able to ignore us any longer.”
“I am not entirely sure that is true. The rich are blissfully unaware of the poor’s plight.”
“There is power in numbers,” Burke argued. “After what just happened at the colliery, we have no choice but to act.”
“I agree, but there must be another way,” Guy argued.
Burke shook his head. “The only way the bank will listen is if we force their hand.”
“What if I am arrested?”
“They won’t arrest you,” Burke said. “You are one of them.”
Guy frowned. “I am not one of them.”
Burke gave him an understanding smile. “We know that, because you are sympathetic to our plight.”
Guy lowered himself back down on the chair, knowing he was going to regret his next words. “I will help you negotiate with Mr. Huxley.”
Burke clasped his hands together. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “We will meet in a few days and discuss our terms.”
