“There was some unrest in Yorkshire, and in Manchester,” the captain said, beside me. “And we have received intelligence that there could be more trouble here.” He looked around the table, realizing the effect of his words upon Miss Grant and my sister, who had both ceased to chew. “However, I would not wish the ladies to be concerned in any way. I doubt there will be any unpleasantness this far west. Besides, the Yorkshire outcome significantly dampened their activities.”

“Yes, I am sure it has dampened their activity,” I said dryly. “Men and women were shot, or rounded up and will be either hanged or transported.”

“Well, they are criminals,” the Ermine said, nibbling at a sweetbread. She sat beside Evan, who, understandably, had been rather taciturn during the first remove. “They should bear the consequences of their actions.”

“They are fighting to survive,” I said. “The machines are destroying their livelihoods and their rights.”

“They killed a man trying to protect his mill,” the captain said mildly, spooning out peas from the silver bowl. “I am sure you do not support such violent action, Lady Augusta.”

“Of course not,” I said, although considering the past few months, perhaps I was not the best candidate to condemn violent action. “But as I understand it, they attempted to negotiate in a peaceful manner, but no one—neither mill owner nor government—would listen to their concerns. It seems they have been driven to extremes.”

“Well, I feel any minute you might stand up from the table and join their cause. Such vehement defense of the indefensible,” Mr. Ellis-Brant said jovially, but with some censure in his voice as well. “You are misguided by your womanly compassion, Lady Augusta.”

I gritted my teeth. Why was it that any analysis made by a woman was attributed to emotion rather than logic and therefore demeaned?

“I do not defend, Mr. Ellis-Brant, merely debate,” I said, stabbing at a recalcitrant carrot. “What is your opinion on the matter, Captain?”

“It is not for me or Lieutenant Powers to have private opinions about our orders or, sometimes, I think, opinions at all,” the captain said drolly. His subordinate allowed a wry smile to touch his lips. “However, the Luddites have been marked as a danger to our way of life, and so the British Army has been sent to address that danger.”

Porty waved over the footman with the wine decanter. “Good thing too. We don’t want a situation like the French, do we? Killing their king and replacing him with a devil like Bonaparte.” He waited for his glass to be filled, then picked it up. “A toast, to the brave efforts of our soldiers here”—he angled his glass first at the captain and then at the lieutenant—“and on the Continent.”

We all picked up glasses, lifted them, and drank.

I looked across the table at Evan: They are here for the Luddites, not you.