that before he had missed.John stood on that fateful bridge over the river.
“We failed them,” he said.
“Failed who?” Adam asked. Any moment now, he knew John would be attacked and fall into the depths of the water below.
“A government that destroys the voice of its people is no government at all. It is tyranny.”
It was an argument they had had before. The watercolor world faded, and he was now inside one of the lounges of their gentlemen’s club, Berkley’s. John cursed and tossed his newspaper on the table between his chair and Adam’s.
“What is it?” Adam retrieved the paper and glanced at the article on the main page.Adam recognized the names of the men.
“More sedition discovered. Traitors to be hung in four days.”
“We failed them,” John said. He raised his brandy to his lips and drank deeply.
“Failed who?” Adam set the paper down.
“Those men. They weren’t dangerous; they wanted to talk. They did not pose a real threat. But because they weren’t of the peerage, their philosophical discourses were deemed anarchist and seditious. Now those men will die.” John leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. “It weighs upon me.”
His blond hair gleamed in the lamps in the lounge, and he again had that glow about him, but Adam didn’t know why he saw that now when he hadn’t seen it before. After a moment, John lifted his head and met Adam’s gaze.
“A government that destroys the voice of its people is no government at all. It is tyranny.”Again those words filled the air of his dream like a mantra.
“John, you know that the opposite is true as well. You may dream of democracy, living in a world of equal voices and equal thoughts, but so long as men are men, there will also be good and evil in equal measure. For every dreamer, every philosopher, there are madmen and murderers. For every voice of reason, there is a cry of chaos. Perhaps those men were harmless, but we’ve seen others who are not. When angry men gather to scream their rage at an established force, it doesn’t mean they are right. Not always.”
This was something Adam had struggled with much of his life. He was a man born to a privileged life, while so many others failed to get by. If he gave away his lands and money, all of it, it would not be enough to help everyone. What was the answer? There was no logic in stealing the wealth of some to give to others. It was a temporary solution that faded quickly. No, the answer was more complicated, rooted somewhere in charity and increased opportunity for the betterment of all men, but they lived in an age where such things were not yet possible.
Perhaps someday things would change. Until then, he would watch and wait and support whatever might push toward that change. And he would also do his best to protect his king and his country without betraying the people of England. He did not always succeed, but he also did not always fail.
“I envy you, Adam,” John said. “You bear the weight of your life easier than I.”
Adam had not known then that John was a spy, or that he was in charge of catching men like this. At the time, Adam had been puzzled by his friend’s concerns.
The memory of that evening began to fade. The last thing Adam could see was John’s face darkening with creeping shadows until John vanished.
Then a soft light appeared, like a distant sunrise on the edge of his horizon.
“Adam?” Letty’s voice seemed so close, but she couldn’t be—she wasn’t in the dark with him. The sound of her voice filled him with a bright, beautiful stirring in his chest. She belonged in the light, not here in the dark with him, not surrounded by death and chaos.
“Adam, please wake up,” Letty begged.
Wake up? Was he asleep? He focused on moving, doing anything he could to wake. It felt as though his body were made of lead, lead that was on fire.
A hiss of pain escaped his mouth.
“Easy.” Letty’s fingertips touched his face, gently coasting over his forehead, then his cheek.
“Letty . . .” His voice came out like gravel.
“I’m here. You’re safe at Tyburn’s castle.”
“How?” He pried his eyes open, and a pale light blinded him momentarily. Had they made it? Was he really at his uncle’s castle? Flashes of Gent’s sneering face made his body tense in pain. How had he gotten away?
“We rescued