CHAPTER THREE
Felicity made her way down the stairs with Aunt Agnes, who was nervously plucking at her sleeve while carrying a book and her reticule, where she kept her spectacles.
As they entered the sitting room, at least ten pairs of eyes turned to look at them. Mr. Ratley crossed the room to greet them.
“Won’t you sit by me?” Mr. Ratley seated them on a sofa, which was also near Lady Blackstone. “Miss Appleby, it is so good of you to join us. I hope you are comfortable. I understand you reside with Miss Mayson and her family in London.”
He proceeded to draw Auntie out and encouraged her to talk about herself and about Felicity’s family. He seemed skilled at listening and asking the right questions.
But from the corner of her eye, Felicity watched the red-haired gentleman, who stood talking not far away.
Soon Lady Blackstone began to pour the tea. Everyone talked quietly with their neighbor. Mr. Ratley divided his attention between Felicity and Aunt Agnes, who actually seemed less nervous while Mr. Ratley was talking to her. It was to his credit that he treated her so deferentially. Felicity sipped her tea and finished her sliver of cake while admiring Mr. Ratley’s patient manner.
“Felicity.” Lady Blackstone approached her and stood with the tall red-haired man. “I would like to introduce Mr. Philip Merrick. Mr. Merrick, this is my dearest niece, Miss Felicity Mayson.”
Her eyes met those of Mr. Merrick’s, and again she had the feeling she had seen him before. She could even picture him wearing a dark-green waistcoat and jacket, standing in a ballroom, talking with Nicholas Langdon. Now he wore a dark-blue waistcoat with a fashionably tied snow-white neckcloth. And rather than cropped short the way many redheads seemed to prefer, his hair was thick and a bit long. She could appreciate that he was not ashamed of the color, since her own hair was a pale reddish blond. His was a few shades darker and more reddish brown.
His eyes, she noticed, were bright blue.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Mayson.” He bowed.
“She lives in London,” Lady Blackstone was saying, “and cannot possibly mind our abundance of gentlemen. After all, she has so many older brothers.”
“Do you have many brothers and sisters?” Mr. Merrick asked.
“I am the twelfth of thirteen children.” Felicity usually blushed when she said the words. Such a large family often caused people to raise their brows or even exclaim, “Heavens!” One wealthy gentleman’s wife, after hearing the number, had muttered under her breath, “How vulgar.”
Mr. Merrick did not hesitate. “You must feel fortunate to have had so many playmates as a child and so many friends as an adult.”
Felicity couldn’t help smiling up at him. “Yes. My sister Elizabeth is nearly always with me, but she was not able to accompany me on this visit.”
“You visit Lady Blackstone often, then?”
“As a matter of fact, this is my first visit to Doverton Hall. Lady Blackstone and I have only met a few times in London.”
“But my niece is quite devoted to me just the same. Is that not so?” Lady Blackstone smiled, but an unexpected look shone in her eyes, questioning.
Mr. Ratley turned from Aunt Agnes and moved to Felicity’s side.
“Merrick, I am so glad you are meeting everyone. We shall have to go out shooting later.”
“Yes. Lady Blackstone tells me the pheasant and grouse are as thick as bulrushes in a marsh.”
Perhaps Felicity was imagining that Mr. Ratley was edging his body in between herself and Mr. Merrick. Could Mr. Ratley deduce that there was something about Mr. Merrick—perhaps because he was so handsome or because of the way he looked at her—that made her feel mildly unsettled?
Mr. Merrick soon moved away with Lady Blackstone, who was continuing to introduce him to the other guests. Mr. Ratley stayed with Felicity and Aunt Agnes and kept them company. He often smiled at her and asked what books Auntie enjoyed reading and what they had done all winter when the weather was bad, and he complimented Felicity over nearly everything she said. Surely this was how it felt to be courted, how other, more sought-after girls of fortune were treated by gentlemen in search of a wife. Felicity would hardly be human if she didn’t have a bit of tender feeling for Mr. Ratley. In truth, whenever she saw him or heard his voice, her spirits lifted. Was this how it felt to fall in love?
Mr. Ratley hovered nearby until all the other men began filing out of the room to go shooting, then he took his leave.
“He is a very attentive young man,” Auntie said.
“Do you like him?”
“I cannot help but like him. His manners are very pleasing, and he seems kind. The most important question is, do you like him?”
“I do. As you said, he is very pleasing.”
Auntie plucked at her sleeve. “What shall we do if he makes you an offer of marriage?”
Felicity’s heart skipped a beat. “I am not quite sure. But it seems unlikely a man would ask for my hand so soon after meeting me.”
“It is quick, but just think, he has heard about you from your aunt, perhaps for some time. He probably feels he knows you very well. And he made a point of talking with me and asking many questions.” She raised her brows and stared down at her hands.
“Did you think him impertinent?”
“No, but he certainly wants to know as much about you and your family as possible.”
“I hope Mother will write to us soon.”
“Today would be the soonest we would receive a response.”
“I am anxious to get it.”
Philip moved from his hiding place behind the open door just outside the room after Felicity Mayson and Agnes Appleby quitted it. He needed to get his gun and join the other men, but he was glad he had stayed to hear the ladies’ private conversation. It seemed as if Miss Mayson and her aunt Appleby did not know Ratley very well. And yet, would he show such a preference for a young lady whose loyalty he was unsure of? Could she be unaware of this entire group’s plans to overthrow the government? He couldn’t explain, even to himself, why he did not believe she could be a ruthless revolutionary, except perhaps for the fact that she had such an innocence about her—her expressions, her voice and manner. But of course, he needed real evidence. The Home Office would not approve of him acquitting her of wrongdoing on the sole basis of her innocent expressions.
He should find out eventually, in any case.
Philip took the steps two at a time to fetch his gun and catch up with the other men.
Once the men were all standing in an overgrown field, leaning on their rifles, he realized this was a planned gathering. Lady Blackstone stood on a stump with her fists clenched.
“Gentlemen,” she said, her big floppy hat pulled low over one ear, reminding him of a thief he’d once helped apprehend on the streets of London. That thief had been forcing children to walk the shallow areas of the Thames in bare feet to hunt for coins and other valuables.
Strange that he would think of that now.
“Gentlemen, amongst those devoted to our cause are mill workers in Manchester, weavers in Nottingham, and cotton factory workers in Yorkshire. The downtrodden and oppressed will rise up and fight to overthrow our unjust government, but they need leaders to guide them. That is why I invited you all here. You are the leaders, the very ones the people need to show them how to fight.”
“We are ready,” Simon Beckwith, the illegitimate son of a wealthy cotton merchant, spoke up. “Why should we wait? Let us make a plan and put it into action now.”
Lady Blackstone said, “That is another reason we are here: to plan and discuss all our options and collectively decide on the best course.”
“Have we decided against peaceful reform, then?” That was Perceval Blankenship, the third son of an earl who had disowned him for his gaming debts.
Someone cursed.
“Peaceful? The time for peace is over,” a Mr. Adrian Sproles said. “The only kind of reform that arrests their notice is violent reform.”
“Agreed!” another man shouted. “Tyrants never listen to peaceful protests. They only pay attention when their lives and livelihoods are in danger.”
Others bellowed their agreement.
“I believe we have all realized that peaceful efforts avail us nothing.” Lady Blackstone stared at Perceval Blankenship, not blinking, for several long moments.
“Of course,” he said finally. “So we have.”
“I am glad we are agreed that the Prime Minister, Parliament, and the monarchy have become so corrupt and unfeeling as to warrant drastic measures. We shall be the leadership now. You are the true and loyal sons of England, protecting the people who have been trodden underfoot for generations, men crushed under the heel of an aristocracy that cares nothing for those who work for wages that are not even enough to keep alive themselves, much less their wives and children. We are tired of men, women, and children going hungry, fathers and mothers falling ill due to lack and want, dying and leaving their children to starve in the streets. The true sons of England will not stand by and allow it any longer.”
Another shout of solidarity went up. Philip did his best to shout with them, but his heart was sinking. Would this be the end of the British monarchy? Would these men—and Lady Blackstone—incite riots to assassinate the Prime Minister, Members of Parliament, and even the Prince Regent and the royal family? They could instigate a bloodbath in the tradition of the French Revolution, following the path of Robespierre and his Reign of Terror, in which thousands were guillotined because of their loyalty to the king, simply because they were born into titled families, or because someone accused them of opposing the revolution. Philip’s own family could be in danger.
“We must stir support stealthily at first, so as not to arouse suspicion,” Lady Blackstone went on. “We will assassinate several of the highest people in government—Lord Liverpool, cabinet members, and as many from the House of Lords as possible—then the rest will be thrown into confusion. We can capture the royal family and execute them as well while our armed men from outlying areas will march on London and seize the government buildings and institutions.”
“How will we arm so many men?” one man asked.
“We have stockpiles of arms in various counties, in barns and factories and warehouses, but we need more. That is one of the most important tasks. We must acquire arms by whatever means possible. Buy them, steal them, donate them from your own collections, but we need as many as we can get between now and our glorious revolution, which we shall implement in May, a month from now.”
But did they have enough people for such an insurrection? Philip wanted to ask, but he thought it best not to draw attention to himself.
The men spoke of their plans and ideas about how to procure more guns. Certainly these men—the leaders, as Lady Blackstone had called them—were the wealthiest of their secret group, and some of them were rich enough to be able to afford to buy quite a few guns. They began to talk of how to purchase a large amount without raising suspicion.
Philip needed to find out the exact locations of those stockpiled weapons Lady Blackstone had spoken of. If he could get word back to the Home Office, they could confiscate them, thereby crippling their entire rebellion. But that might not be so easy.