Page 10 of Highland Jewel
“I must ask you this directly. Is your group militant?”
“Militant?” Her eyes rounded. She stared at him as if he had two heads. “Why would you ask such a thing? We’re women.”
He was only somewhat relieved by her answer. Niall didn’t want to tell her of all the women he’d seen fighting in the fields and villages of France and in the Highlands. Women who had no trouble putting a knife in a soldier’s back or a bullet in his head to protect loved ones. Operating from their barracks outside of Cork City, his regiment had been given orders to kill Irish rebels, regardless of their gender or age. That had been the end of it for him. Even now, lying in bed at night, he tried to clear his thoughts of the brutality he’d walked away from.
The greater tragedy now lay in the fact that peaceful protestors were exposed to the same violence. The stronger the reform movement got, the more ruthless the government was becoming.
“We get together to discuss the issues,” Fiona continued. “Maisie and I are committed to a peaceful campaign. We circulate informational pamphlets. We meet mainly in drawing rooms and speak at smaller public meetings.”
He arched an eyebrow. “But the two of you were on that platform today.”
“We were there by the invitation. We didn’t think that violence would occur.”
The time for lecturing was behind them. There was nothing Niall could say now that he hadn’t said to his sister before. She, at least, had a vulnerable side. Deep down, she worried about her daughters.
Fiona shifted the reticule on her lap, sighing when she realized she was holding a second one, as well. She glanced back in the direction her friend had gone. Niall guessed the bag belonged to Maisie.
“How does your friend’s familyreallyfeel about her ‘activities,’ as she calls them?”
“They don’t know. I believe they have no idea.”
Unto His Royal Highness, The Prince Regent
From the hand of The Right Honorable, The Viscount Sidmouth
Sir,
I cannot begin this report of our activities at the Home Office without first extending my thanks to you for graciously mentioning this humble and loyal servant in your recent remarks. As you know, I have been honored to serve you and your family (and indeed, this magnificent realm) for my entire career—as Prime Minister, as Lord Privy Seal, as Lord of the Council, and as Home Secretary. I shall continue to endeavor to serve you faithfully for as long as I am able.
With regard to the affairs of state—acting upon your resolve that we take action to quell seditious activities in the realm, I have taken it upon myself to dispatch Sir Rupert Burney from the Home Office to the north.
As we have discussed previously, various low and vile persons are forming groups intended to stir up the population against the government. As Sir Rupert has been doing in the cities of England, he will create in Scotland—beginning with Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Inverness—an organization that will gather information and expose your enemies.
We shall leave no stone unturned in our efforts to secure the kingdom and make radicals and so-called reformers feel the full weight of the law. The fate of the monarchy in France will not be repeated here on our fair shores. The unwashed and uneducated mob will not force their hereditary leaders to give up their rightful place as rulers of the realm.
I shall keep you informed as to Sir Rupert’s activities and our progress in the days to come.
I remain, Sir,
Your Most Obedient Servant
CHAPTER4
When Maisie entered through the door off the alley, no one in the family saw her come into the house. Holding a finger to her lips as she passed a kitchen maid, she went quickly toward the back stairs.
Voices drifted in from the rooms used for consulting and surgery at the front of the Infirmary Street house. Maisie listened for a moment, wondering if anyone from the protest had been brought here. She needed to change first before finding out. Hurrying up the back staircase, she was surprised to come face-to-face with Morrigan Drummond, who put out a hand to block her way.
She stared at Maisie’s clothing. “Who did this to you?”
“No one.”
Morrigan was customarily in the clinic at this time of the day. She liked to spend time at her father’s side, assisting him. Another doctor-in-training, most likely.
Everyone—Isabella and Archibald, the servants, even the dozen or so medical students who regularly came to the house—assumed that Maisie and Morrigan were asclose as sisters to each other. They couldn’t have been more wrong.
Not by choice, the two had been thrown together six years ago when Isabella, Maisie’s half-sister, wed Morrigan’s father. It was not long before Archibald moved them all to Scotland.
She was only a year younger than Morrigan. They had almost no interests in common and they looked nothing alike. Maisie was fair-haired and blue-eyed. Morrigan’s hair was a deep brown and matched her eyes. While Maisie was attached to her books and her writing, Morrigan was more athletic and fonder of the out-of-doors, riding, and of course medicine. Maisie was a master at rendering herself invisible to the household, while Morrigan had a more volatile temper that put her daily at the center of some quarrel. Many other things set them apart. In a house with two doctors and a busy clinic, however, the young women found it easy to lead their own lives in what appeared to be sisterly harmony, largely unnoticed by their guardians.
