the man’s work ethic and did not think he would have willingly taken a day off work.
When the fog descended it was as if the whole atmosphere of the people changed. During the afternoon it had been tense ― a sort of uneasy stand-off between the uniformed horsemen and the workers, but they had continued on their way whilst the cavalry had just watched them.
Then the fog had started to swirl, and the mostly good-natured singing and some of the rallying speeches had taken on another tone completely. All of a sudden there were cries demanding action by the gathered mob and yelling, stirring a ripple of unrest and unease.
A small charge from the front of the crowd caused chaos, some people trying to escape, some to turn back, and others to push forward. All the time shouts were ringing out.
Then the clubs and chains came from underneath coats and out of pockets. That was the moment they had been instructed to try to disrupt what could easily turn into a major riot.
Fitzwilliam had surged forward, trying to cause confusion in the crowd and separate who they had seen as ringleaders. There was a mass of men and women, even some children, all intent on avoiding the snorting horses in their midst.
He had no idea how they found out, but one of the men called out that the mill gates further down the street had been breached. Fitzwilliam’s stomach lurched at the news, and he urged his horse forward. He had to get to Bamber Mill to make sure all was well.
Kicking anyone out of the way who aimed a club in his direction, or using a baton of his own, he surged forward. He knew that many would be innocents caught up in an activity they would probably be regretting by now, so he was careful not to cause unnecessary injury. He was a just man, and although set against the ones who were armed, he could not just trample over the ones who were trying to reach safety.
It seemed like an eternity before the large opening to Bamber Mills loomed out of the fog. If a mill was awe-inspiring during a clear day, it was haunting encased by fog. Unfortunately, Fitzwilliam did not have time to appreciate the monster building engulfed in swirls of smoke. He was too intent on making sure Mr. Bamber was not present.
Seeing the gates open, Fitzwilliam cursed that this had to be the mill that was breached. People were still inside, but his entrance caused some to push their way through the opening and back onto the street. He could hear the smashing of glass and looked around wildly to see if there was anyone he recognised.
As he pushed forward, he noticed a crouched form and shouting out, he caused the man to move slightly.
“Dear God,” Fitzwilliam uttered before flinging himself out of the saddle. He strode over to where Mick was crouched over Mr. Bamber’s prone body. “Is he alive?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Mick answered.
“Thank God for that! We need to get him inside. Is there no one else to help?”
“Fred is protecting the animals. All the rest of the workforce is off. Mr. Bamber was only stopping them being crushed against the gates, sir. He was helping them, and they started to cause damage,” Mick babbled, clearly shaken by what he had seen and trying to protect his employer from swarming bodies who had shown they did not mind attacking a lone man.
Fitzwilliam looked at the building. He could not see clearly but he could hear the sound of windows being broken. He needed to get Mr. Bamber away, but there was something making him pause in lifting the injured man onto his horse.
The sound of shattering glass made Mick wince, and he looked at Fitzwilliam. “Sir. Miss Prudence is in the mill.”
“What?” Fitzwilliam almost shouted at him.
“She’s locked in the office,” Mick said.
Feeling sick to his stomach, Fitzwilliam drew out his sword from the hilt on his belt. They had been given strict instructions. No swords out.
Damn that to the devil.
The woman he loved was in a building that was being ransacked.
He set off at a run.
*
Prudence could not see the gates, but she saw the number of people surging into the yard. She stepped back away from the window, for some reason not wishing to be seen. Watching at a discreet distance, she became more concerned as the noise increased.
Starting to pace the office from one side to the