A Most Mysterious Gentleman (#1 Sweet Nineteenth Series) VERY SLOW UPDATES

AMMG ~43~

Rosalie could only stare at the wonderful man across from her. He lazed across from her in the carriage, legs spread wide and taking up as much room as he possibly could with his long legs. He rested his head on the window, and as uncomfortable it seemed with the constantly banging against it, he slept soundly. Rosalie on the other hand could not. It didn't matter how she tried, the thoughts of how many times she'd nearly died would flashback and she'd jerk awake from her faint doze.

They were on their way to Islington, Henry's correspondence with a certain 'John Castle' and John Stafford, supervisor of the Home Office spies, matched with his own observations had come to a plan of the Spenceans due to meet in a field there. Rosalie watched as the many men flanked the carriage on their horses, a magnificent sight to be sure, there could be as many as 80.

She smiled at one who'd just happened to tip his hat towards her, glancing her watching them. She smiled back, she could only hope none of the men, including officers of the law, would be hurt in the following potential skirmishes.

Henry grunted and twisted, kicking out his leg and narrowly missing Rosalie's arm. For, even though the carriage was magnificent, emblazed with the crest of the Trent name, the inside meant passengers could only be in close proximity. Rosalie laughed, it would just be like her to get even more injuries.

Even so, she wondered at the information that had been disclosed to her. It seemed Thomas Spence wasn't himself bad, and that is where her confusion lay. Even though he had died four years earlier, Henry had said many of the Lords had been wary of him.

"He wants rights for women and children." Henry had said.

'"And? What is so wrong with that?"

"Well- nothing as such."

She had glared at him, and he had shifted, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Well many feel that, as many women and children have not the education most men have, regardless of social class of whatever they do best, they are not fully informed to make their own decisions. Not that I agree of course." He had hastened quickly.

"Well that seems unlikely to be the full reason."

"Indeed. He wants the end of aristocracy. The end of landlords, instead to be run by governing bodies who are self serving and independent. Rents shared equally among parishes. Universal suffrage. A social guarantee for those who are unable to work." He was silent. "These don't seem like bad ideas, they seem innocent and helpful enough, but the underlying issues is that no-one can actually afford it. For the social guarantee, taxes would have to be raised, and that would put even more out of work, as business would struggle to pay them. Eventually everything would spiral."

"But how can you tell, are you a fortune teller Henry? A gypsy who can predict the economic wellbeing of England and its patriots?"

"I'm in the House of Lords, Rosalie. Do not question what I know to be true." He had said sharply. More gently he had continued. "There is no guarantee with radicalism like this. It must be always taken in small steps to integrate into society."

"And why can society not change to integrate into ideas for the better of its people?"

"Because the blue bloods want money, Rosalie, and they are not willing to share it with the lower classes, no matter how poor and desolate they are."

"Eurgh, but it is so frustrating!"

No matter how Rosalie looked at it, she felt that one day, these things would become true. However she knew not to tolerate the potential overthrow of government and its massive potential drawbacks, and that is why their journey was leading to the spa fields, armed to the teeth and ready to disrupt the large meeting of angry radicals ready to take place.

A tap on the roof startled her from the driver. "We're nearly there Your Grace."

Rosalie nudged Henry. He grunted again and attempted to roll over, nearly falling off his seat.

"What? What is it?"

"We're here."

The sounds of impatient, stamping hooves of horses and the bellows of George, leading the men, made the large group in the fields turn. Four men stood proudly at the top of the bank, clearly leaders.

"So wot do we hav' 'ere then? Them bloods come to arrest us? Kill us? Well ya won't take me, ey boys?" One shouted.

Henry stepped out of the carriage, before whispering, "Stay here Rosalie, I'm not sure how aggressive they'll be."

"Now Gentlemen. We've come here peacefully to disperse this meeting and send you on your merry way, without causing any trouble. Although I'm also- personally- looking for the Marquess who funds your merry chase."

"Well why'd we be letting' you stop us?" Another shouted.

George rode towards him. "Because that is His Grace, Duke of Richmond, you are speaking to!"

"'Ere! We've got a real life blue blood 'ere! Never me seen one of thems before!" He bowed mockingly.

"Lovely to meet ya, your Grace." He cackled. "We don't really like you lot, ey lads? Down to the Lords and Ladies who ruin our Country, who never see the light of day stuck up in there fancy houses and slave driven servants. You ever seen a day's work, your Grace? See ya hands get a little mucky? Bet them Hessians wouldn't be very good in the mud."

A shout went up as a small group of radicals attacked the nearest policemen. The mob descended into chaos.

Rosalie watched anxiously at the mayhem. Henry and George were gesturing to the men on the hill. "We want them arrested and tried for high treason!" Henry's men nodded and galloped towards them, most being pulled off their horses whilst travelling through the fighting mob.

She could visibly see Henry sigh, before gesturing to George and grabbing the reins of a bolting horse. He swung himself up and turned, back towards the fleeing leaders. Rosalie tried to keep track of where he was, but he disappeared, not before a trickle of blood reached the carriage. The sight of a man covered in blood, holding his side, appeared towards her, and with everyone else involved in the fighting, she was alone. It was then she recognised his face from the leaders on the hill.

"Henry! Help me!"

-End of Chapter-