Longing by Mary Balogh Read Free Book Online Page B

sure?
    If ever there was an attempt to form a union or to get unanimous action on a strike, the Scotch Cattle became active. For always there would be some dissenting voices, some men who for one reason or other refused to act with the majority. There was usually a warning first, a frightening nocturnal visit from the Cattle or perhaps merely the leaving of a note if the recipient was known to be able to read. Then punishment—the destruction of possessions, sometimes total. And very often a whipping up on the mountain.
    Siân had always considered it a scandal and a disgrace. Life was so very hard. Surely the only way it could be made bearable was for the people to cling together in love and mutual support. And they did much of the time. Life was lived richly in Cwmbran despite the long hours of work and the hard and dirty conditions and the danger and low wages. But always times like this came along to spoil everything. And to terrify them all in their beds.
    But there were men—and women too—who would say that the Cattle were necessary. She remembered Owen saying the night before that unanimity was essential. Perhaps it was. But did it have to be enforced by terror and violence? She would never believe so.
    And then the howling came again, and Siân pressed a clenched fist against her mouth to stop herself from screaming and giving in to panic. Who were the recipients of their visits? Was it just the warnings tonight? Or were there men even at this moment being dragged up the mountain? She heard a creaking on the stairs and moaned.
    â€œSiân?” It was Emrys’s voice.
    She pushed back the blankets and stepped out barefoot onto the kitchen floor. “Uncle Emrys?” Her voice shook. “Scotch Cattle?”
    â€œYes,
fach,
” he said. “Scared, are you?”
    She crossed the room toward his darkened form and pushed her hand into his reassuringly warm one. “I hate it,” she said. “It is not necessary, surely?”
    â€œThere were those who would not sign the Charter,” he said, crossing to the window and holding the curtain back with his free hand so that he could peer out. “It is important that everyone sign. The government in London must be made to see that it is not just a few cranks who are demanding the changes.”
    â€œBut if anyone’s conscience is against it—” she said.
    Emrys clucked his tongue. “This is not the time for conscience,
fach
,” he said. He looked carefully up and down the street. “There is nothing to be seen. It looks as if no one on our street is for it.”
    Siân heard herself sobbing before she could stop herself. “Will it just be those who did not sign, then?” she said. “Not those who did not join the Association?”
    â€œI don’t know,
fach,
” he said. “But back to bed and back to sleep now, is it? And keep our noses out of places where they do not belong? We have to be up early.” He squeezed her hand tightly before letting it go.
    â€œYes,” she said, climbing back into bed and pulling up the blankets. She wished he would sit down beside the fireplace for a while so that she could feel a friendly human presence close by. But she heard his footsteps going back up the stairs and a low, murmured exchange with her grandfather.
    Their noses did belong where the Scotch Cattle were. It was their own people who were being terrorized. People who were acting from conscience rather than cowardice, surely. It was not cowardly to hold out against the majority. Not when there were Scotch Cattle ready to enforce the majority stand.
    And then the howling and bellowing started again, and Siân dived beneath the blankets, shivering and pressing her hands to her ears.
    Iestyn, she thought. Oh, Iestyn.
Dear Lord, protect him. Let them be after only those who did not sign. Lord, keep Iestyn safe.
    And then she remembered the Marquess of Craille and the fact that