Page 103 of A Torn Allegiance
“I did. You may not continue, because frankly, Lord Everly, we don’t agree with sheep on our land. We don’t agree with sending our tenants off. And why not? Because this land is theirs.”
A few grumbled at that.
“Have you no thought for the clans? These families are loyal to the land. They’re loyal to you. They would do anything to make it successful, because they belong here just as their ancestors for hundreds of years before them belonged here.” She turned to Hayes and then back to the group. “I, for one, cannot shed my responsibility as a landholder and deny them their share of the pledge we made.” She turned back to Hayes. “I wish to be fully honest in all my dealings... with everyone.” Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, to believe her.
She continued. “Surely, there are others here who agree with me. We cannot follow in the way of the Clearances. We cannot send our tenants to work in occupations in which they have no experience, or which they’ve no desire to learn. This is their land as much as ours. Come now, you all know that.”
“There is, of course, another solution.” Lamoreaux. His voice sent chills up her back.
The attention shifted to him.
“Another foreign crown is willing to support you in your troubles and solve these problems for you.”
The hope that lit some of the landholders’ faces chilled Elsie.
The longer he talked, the angrier Elsie became. He didn’t spell it out, but it was obvious to Elsie that he was encouraging insurrection, that he was hoping the Scots would rise up against each other. That he was offering some kind of false hope that Napoleon would fix all their problems.
Just as Elsie was about to interrupt his lies, Hayes stepped forward. “And just how do you propose to bring rain to the crops?” He stared the Frenchman down. “How exactly do you plan to help resolve this conflict regarding those who want sheep and those who don’t?” Hayes turned to everyone. “Can’t you see? He’s not offering a solution. He’s placating you with promises he has no way or intention of keeping. Do you really want to call yourselves Frenchmen?”
They grumbled more.
“Do you want Napoleon as your emperor? Your children raised speaking French?”
Their grumbling grew louder. More men shook their heads. And, for the first time since she’d heard about the issues facing Argyll, Elsie had a small measure of hope in regard to their Scottish lands.
But as she sought Hayes’s reassurance, he didn’t look at her; he focused solely on the other men in the room, the men who had come to support Lamoreaux. She felt much of her hope for their future together fizzle away while her hope for Scotland ignited.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Hayes counted the men. Therewere far fewer than he had predicted. How could so few do so much damage? Perhaps they didn’t have a growing contingent yet. Or perhaps a few was all it took to begin unrest—just a few measly weak-minded souls. The whole thing still made him ill.
Lamoreaux resumed talking after Hayes had interrupted, and he now seemed to be wrapping up. Praise the moors, because Hayes was finished listening to his whiny voice. The Frenchman said, “And now, who will join us? Who will take the first step to join a new world, a better way of doing things? Who will join Napoleon?”
Hayes was alarmed to see more than a few faces hold indecision. Then one hand went up.
Hayes stepped forward, but before he could say anything, Elsie shouted, “No!”
Every head whipped around to her.
“You cannot!”
Lamoreaux huffed. “Can someone please escort her back home, where she belongs?”
Elsie’s fists clenched.
“I will not be escorted home. I am the Argyll landholder here. And I say no. Can you not see what he is doing? How can he promise a foreign emperor will help you grow food?” She moved forward, and Hayes wanted to cheer. “Why do we need someone else telling us how to run our affairs? Why do we need a Frenchman to help us work out our own disputes? Yes, things are tough. But when have the Scots ever run from tough?”
The men in the room sat taller.
“We have weathered this land, glorious though it is, for centuries. Will we be the generation that gives it away because of some dry soil?”
“But dry soil means no crops and everyone is hungry.” Everly shook his head. “You act as though we don’t care for our tenants, that we don’t understand. But it is for them that we wish to have sheep.”
Hayes could see his point of view.
“But your sheep would eat all the crops that did grow.”
Grumbling spread.
