Read London in Chains for Free Online Page B

elections?
    â€˜There should be reform. We should get what we fought for! There should be an election and a new settlement of the government! As our victory is stolen, more and more of us have come to believe that we must fight again – not with swords, this time, but with petitions and the law. We’ve banded together to demand a settlement that secures our liberties as freeborn Englishmen.’ Thomas frowned at Lucy and added, ‘Agnes calls it “sedition” because this present corrupt Parliament does – but the king called it “sedition” when Parliament set itself against his will, and who believes that now? There are honest men in Parliament; we do have support in the Commons, for all the arrogance of the majority, and in the Army there are many who agree with us. I hope and pray that our opponents have the good sense to realize that they must make concessions. Then this so-called sedition will become the new foundation of our commonwealth, and England’s liberty will be the glory of the world!’ He paused, cleared his throat, and added unhappily, ‘In the meantime, though, I fear that working on our pamphlets is dangerous.’
    Lucy tried to digest all this. She had never really cared about the claims of Parliament or King: the ‘liberties of freeborn Englishmen’ had very little to do with English women . For her the war had meant ruin and suffering, without sense or reason, and the thought that anybody might be stupid and wicked enough to start it up again appalled her.
    On the other hand, she still wanted the job.
    â€˜I’m not afraid, Uncle,’ she said. Inspiration struck. ‘I would be ashamed if you disappointed your friend on my behalf, particularly as he might think you did so only from fear of my aunt.’
    She’d won: she saw that at once.
    â€˜We should make trial of it,’ she coaxed. ‘Then, if I think it too dangerous, I can tell Mr Browne as much, and the blame will rest on me.’
    Mr Browne’s bookshop was on Coleman Street, near to Moorgate. When they arrived he was perched on a joint-stool outside the shop, but he jumped up, beaming, as soon as he saw them.
    â€˜There you are!’ he said, shaking hands with Uncle Thomas. ‘And your pretty niece from the country! What was her name again, Tom?’
    â€˜Lucy Wentnor,’ Thomas informed him. ‘My sister Elizabeth’s child. I’ve told her of the dangers she faces, Will, but she swears she’s not afraid.’
    â€˜Excellent! Brave girl!Liza!’ Browne called the last back into the shop.
    A girl of twelve or thirteen came into the doorway, regarded Lucy a moment with curiosity, then smiled. ‘Good health!’ she said. ‘My da told me you were going to stitch Freeborn John’s pamphlet. You’re from the country, aren’t you?’
    â€˜Aye,’ said Lucy, smiling back. She felt safer with Browne, knowing he had a young daughter.
    â€˜I could tell!’ said Liza. ‘From the waistcoat. I don’t know why nobody in London wears one; it’s pretty. Will you come back here for your dinner?’
    â€˜Aye, I expect so,’ said Browne before Lucy could answer. ‘Mind the shop, chick, while I show Mistress Wentnor the press.’ He turned to Uncle Thomas. ‘I’m much obliged to you, Tom. We need it done as soon as possible.’
    â€˜Aye,’ agreed Thomas, looking serious. ‘I’ll let you get to work. Lucy, sweet, I’ll see you this evening!’ And with that he set off back to Southwark. Lucy watched him go, frightened, despite herself, at being left with strangers in this huge city.
    â€˜Well, then!’ said Mr Browne. He started off down the street, gesturing for Lucy to follow him. She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and trotted after him, with only one apologetic wave at the girl Liza. She would have liked to talk to Browne’s daughter and perhaps