Page 49 of Must Love Scoundrels
“I’ll take the first watch,” Duncan said. “There’s no point in both of us sitting up all night. I’ll wake you in four hours, and we’ll switch.”
“I can take the first watch,” she said.
“I said I have it,” he snapped. She heard him draw in a slow breath. “My apologies. I would like to take the first watch, if you’ve no objection.”
“Of course not.” Apparently, they might have passed the line where they could remain friends. Which meant the long hours they’d spend in this place would feel even longer.
Lucy went to the cot where Duncan had been hiding when she’d entered. It was on the same wall as the window overlooking the river, but it was set back in a dark corner. And since it would be behind anyone entering, it was easily forgotten. She wrapped her cloak about her body and lay down. She’d expected to fall asleep immediately. Her body was exhausted and heavy with lingering pleasure.
But her mind would not quiet. At first, her thoughts turned to Duncan and what had happened between them. She immediately pushed those away and the next thoughts were of the mission.
“Do you really think one of the household is a member of the radical sect of this union threatening the prime minister?”
He stood just to the side of the window, his back straight, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked like a king surveying his kingdom. “It’s a possibility, but I haven’t come to any conclusions yet. I’m still—”
“—gathering information, yes.” It was something Mr. Fog always said to them.No conclusions until one has gathered all the information.“It just seems...extreme,” she said. “This group would kill a child because the prime minister won’t negotiate over working conditions?”
“I don’t claim to be an expert on factory workers, but it’s my understanding the work can be dangerous and involve long hours. Fourteen-hour days are not uncommon. If a man is injured, even if it’s the fault of the factory owner, there’s no recourse. If he can’t work, he’s let go and he and his family starve. No days of rest, low wages, backbreaking labor.”
“It sounds miserable. I understand why they would band together to bargain for better conditions.”
“It’s more than that. In some of the cities, like Liverpool and Manchester, there have been protests and even acts of sabotage. Men have gone into factories under the dark of night and intentionally damaged machines. The owners have retaliated by cutting wages and dismissing anyone they consider trouble.”
Lucy sat. “And the men who were dismissed have no work and no recourse. Their pleas for help have fallen on deaf ears.”
Duncan glanced at her. “I’ve no doubt the prime minister has heard their concerns and may even sympathize.”
“And yet he does nothing.”
Duncan kept his gaze on her. “Lucy, your father may be a viscount, but you didn’t rise to the ranks of the Royal Saboteurs without some work in the field, some knowledge of how the world works.”
He was right. She’d worked in the Home Office and seen first-hand that those with money and power had influence in the government. Those without had little hope of having their voices heard. Unless they did as the workers were doing and banded together. There was strength in numbers.
And they could instill fear in the upper classes through acts of vandalism and terror.
“I do know how the world works, and I’ve spent time among a great number of people of all classes. That’s why I can’t believe most would agree to the murder of a child. I understand wanting better working conditions, but it makes no sense. As I said before, if they succeeded and killed Johnny, how would that achieve their aims? Lord John will only retaliate by shutting out their negotiators all together or, in the worst case, giving the factory owners more power.”
As soon as the words left her lips, Lucy put her hands to her mouth. He inhaled sharply and jumped to her feet. “Duncan,” she said, whirling to face him.
“No. I know what you’re thinking, and I can’t believe that.”
“I can. You know what Mr. Glass always told us—look at who has the most to gain. Motive is everything.”
“Do you think Baron knows?”
“Does he know that the threat isn’t from the workers but one or more factory owners? He did tell us to consider everyone a suspect. I never thought he might mean the wealthy and powerful friends of the prime minister.”
“Damn it. The more you talk, the more it makes sense. One must have money and time to come to Richmond Park and meet with someone in the household. Even the act of installing someone here takes time and resources a simple laborer wouldn’t possess.”
“We need a list of factory owners and then a list of Lord John’s friends and political connections. We can cross-reference the lists and—”
“Lucy, that would take weeks and several trips to London and other manufacturing cities. I think we stay right here and wait for the man—or more likely, his subordinate—to come to us.”
She sighed and sank back on the cot. “You’re right.” It was disappointing because she had become excited at the prospect of doing something. Anything but sitting here and waiting.
She pulled her cloak around her again and prepared to try to sleep. She’d just spent an hour of her precious four. The time hadn’t been wasted, but she might not have to pretend to have a megrim in the morning.
“You know,” Duncan said, looking out the window again, his back to her, “I like to think I would have come to the same conclusion about this mission that you did, but I don’t know for certain.”
