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seemed paralyzed, staring in fascination at what was going on and doing nothing to stop it, not that there was anything to be done to save the machinery.
    But Belle could and would get these men out of her shop.
    In one fluid motion, she brought her pistol out into plain view and pointed it at her attacker while reaching up with her free hand and yanking on her captor’s wool covering. It easily came away in her hand.
    Clive Pryce.
    What?
    She stared back and forth between the wool and his face. And realized that the cloth looked familiar because it came from her shop. It was part of an older batch of drab that Henry had hand-finished.
    She shook her head in disbelief. They were affianced, due to be married in a couple of weeks. And Wesley’s best friend. He was—
    She looked over at Wesley again. “It can’t be,” she breathed.
    But Clive stepped toward her again. She whirled on him with her pistol and raised it at him.
    He lifted his hands in supplication. “Belle, darling, this was all only for your own good. You know deep inside that this mill is immoral. In two ways. Not only because it produces inferior cloth that will drive expert craftsmen like Henry into starvation, but because you know that managing this shop is your elder brother’s job, not yours. You’ve stepped outside your role as his younger sister to assert yourself in a distasteful, mannish way. Assuredly, I won’t tolerate it when you become my wife.”
    â€œYou won’t tolerate ... I’ve stepped outside ... my own good ...” Belle was nearly speechless in shock.
    â€œBesides, even if I permitted you to continue with this draper shop, it wouldn’t do for the wife of a respectable Luddite to introduce an evil piece of machinery into it.”
    Once again, Belle was grasping for an understanding. “What are you saying? Have you done this before?”
    â€œDone it before? Why, I’m a King Ludd, just like George Mellor. My men are expert in smashing gig mills, stocking frames, and the like. Notice how we didn’t touch anything else, just the mill. It’s a lesson to arrogant shop owners without destroying their entire livelihood.”
    â€œTherefore I should be grateful to you for doing this?”
    Clive laughed. “I suppose that’s true.”
    Despite his shaking nervousness, Henry spoke up. “Now, Mr. Pryce, I don’t much like this new machinery, either, but I’d never destroy it.”
    â€œYour opinion concerns me little. Belle, you hire insolent men, and Henry will be the first to go when we’re married.”
    Belle readily found her astonishment overtaken by pure, white-hot fury. How dare he presume to know what was good for her? For that matter, how dare he think to know anything about her at all? For if he believed that for one second Belle could be happy outside of the cloth shop, then he should be taken straight to York Asylum for confinement. In fact, she’d escort him there personally.
    â€œYou’ll not tell me—” But before she could finish her thought, Henry stepped forward toward Clive, his hands raised. She didn’t know whether he meant to attack or supplicate, but it didn’t matter. Clive took it as a threatening gesture, grabbed Henry, and threw him bodily onto the demolished remains of the gig mill. Henry landed violently on his back with a clatter that sounded almost as terrible as the smashing of the mill. He groaned and fell eerily silent.
    â€œHenry!” Belle cried, running forward to help him, but Clive seized her and shoved her to one side.
    â€œHe’s not important, Belle. You first need to apologize to me and your brother for the vain way you’ve been handling things in this shop. It’s not befitting a woman.”
    â€œ I need to apologize? To you? ”
    Henry moaned again. Thank God, he’s still alive.
    Wait. Did Clive say she also needed to apologize to Wesley? Her