“There is always the military,” he mused unhappily to himself. “Or I could hire myself out as a laborer.”
It was an effort, but I continued to keep my silence. Emma opened her mouth to speak, shook her head, and closed it again.
Robert took our silence as agreement with his plans, and continued in a morose and extremely annoying tone. “I understand they are seeking men for work in the coal mines of Wales.”
“Blast it, Robert! I cannot believe this is you I am listening to.”
“Cassandra,” Emma said, a warning in her voice as I stood up and shouted at him.
“No, Emma, I can’t stand this no longer. Robert is our friend. I know you think we should let him work things out on his own, but I can’t stand this any longer.”
Robert looked at us both in surprise, watching with no little concern as I shook off Emma’s restraining hand and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket.
“I assure you I am not offended by your concern. I am humbled that my two oldest friends would stand by me,” he started to explain.
I wouldn’t let him finish. “Have you no dignity? Have you no pride? Have you no gumption?” I shook him with each word I spoke; he put up a hand to stop me, but I was too enraged.
“You are not the sort of man to take things lying down! If you love Helena, then you had better start acting like it!”
Robert looked to Emma for help. She gave a little shake of her head. “I’m sorry Robert. About this, I agree with Cassandra. No woman wants a suitor who sits around moping and bemoaning the fact that he is not worthy.”
“We want a man who will bare his heart and soul!” I declared.
“Tell Helena of your feelings,” Emma said. “Tell her of your situation. I’m sure she will understand.”
“Yes, tell her, and then ask her to join you in a life that will be filled with love and fraught with difficulties, but for heaven’s sake, stop mooning around and ask her!”
Robert looked stunned at our frank speech, but at least he stopped his insufferable wallow in self-pity. “But—but—”
“You must trust that we know of what we speak, Robert. We are not naïve young ladies; we are worldly New Women. I even have a lover!”
“You do?” He looked shocked down to his toenails.
“Yes. And both Emma and I know all about men, and what we want from them.”
His gaze shot to Emma. “But surely you are—”
She raised a hand to stop him, making a wry face. “I think explanations about that would be best left for a time when Cassandra has a bit more experience being a New Woman.”
“What explanations?” I asked her, distracted.
“Another time. Right now we are here to help and support Robert.”
“Very well.” I narrowed my gaze on Robert. “What’s your decision?”
“What can my decision be? I have nothing—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! We don’t want to hear it. Either you have the decency to tell Helena of your feelings, or you will spend the rest of your life sniveling about what might have been.”
It was probably the term “sniveling” that made the difference. I have found that gentlemen hate to be told they are snivelers. Robert looked at me coolly for a moment, then turned stiffly and marched out of the room. When Emma and I, exchanging small victorious smiles, followed him, we saw that he paused only long enough to gather his hat and coat before leaving the house.
“You don’t think we’ve acted a trifle precipitously, do you?” I asked Emma as she collected her own coat and hat.
“Sending him into the lion’s den with no protection, and his heart on his sleeve, you mean?” she asked with a little laugh.
“When you say it like that, it sounds so hopeless.” I sighed. “I pray it will be enough.”
“I’m sure it will.” She paused for a moment at the door, giving me a long look. “I wonder if you and your Griffin would like to join me at the club for dinner next week. Tuesday is public night, and I would be happy to have you as my guests. There are a few things that I would like to explain, and I think it might be best if he were there to help.”
“I’m sure he would be delighted, as would I, but what sorts of things are you talking about?”
She patted my cheek. “We’ll leave that for then. Good luck with your campaign to rally Robert to brave new heights. I will send you a postcard from Paris.”
A look at the clock reminded me of my promise to write a few words for inclusion in the next issue of the Union’s publication Sisters in Suffrage. With my thoughts not entirely on the subject, I hastened to my typewriting machine to compose a brief article on a New Woman’s duties regarding sexual freedom.
The article took me longer than I had planned; it was not until just before dinner time that I was able deliver it. The Union Hall was empty when I went in search of the editor, but as I passed down the side of the hallway I heard a familiar name being spoken. The door was open slightly and I would have stopped to listen had not the editor chosen that moment to come out.
“Ah, there you are, Miss Whitney. I was just leaving. Is that the article?”
I handed over my copy, and chatted with her for a moment about the latest political gossip. As we strolled back, we passed Maggie Greene standing in the door to one of the offices.
“You’ll be sure to lock up, won’t you Maggie?” asked my companion. “Everyone else is gone.”
Maggie shot me an unfriendly look and agreed to secure the Hall. As we exited the building, I turned back in the doorway.
“I must have dropped a glove inside. I will just run back and fetch it.”
Bidding the editor goodnight, I ran back into the Hall on the tips of my toes. Quietly, I listened at the doorway where I had seen Maggie.
“…otherwise we shall be voted down again. It’s time we make our stand. If we do so now, the rest of the membership will have no choice but to follow. Cynthia Knox will not be able to rally the members against us, not while Heywood is still in prison.”
“But St. John’s brother is the leader of the opposition. Do you think it’s wise to involve her in our plans? What if she tells him when and where we intend on striking?”
“She won’t. I have thoroughly vetted her and she is an enthusiastic supporter. She has one of those weak minds that are easily led.” Maggie laughed harshly. “I fancy she will do us a fair amount of good. Her name and her illustrious brother’s stand will garner us a great deal of print and sympathy. I can almost read the headline: Peer’s Suffragette Sister Imprisoned. Besides, I have a card or two up my sleeve. Our patron made it clear he wants the lovely Helena out of the way, and he won’t pay up until we make sure she is. My plan is foolproof: we bring the Union to its knees, take control in the confusion, send the St. John woman to prison for several years, after which we collect a sizable donation to the cause.”
“Who is the patron, Maggie?” an annoying, whining voice asked.
“My agreement with him prohibits me from revealing his name,” Maggie said smoothly. “It’s time to go. We shall start early tomorrow and rally the members. We will need their support, whether or not we decide to leave the Union intact.”
There were noises of movement amid their laughter, sending me flying. Once outside, I hid in the space below the stone stairs, and waited to see to whom the other voices belonged. Voices drove me deeper into the shadows as Maggie Greene and five other women walked away to the entrance of the Underground. I did not know the other women, but I recognized them as being part of Maggie’s corps.
I mulled over what to tell Helena about the militants. I sorely missed Griffin at that moment, not just his physical presence, but his emotional support. My head ached by the time I arrived home. I was almost to my bedroom when Robert stepped out of his room with a suitcase in each hand, his face haggard and worn. “You look as if you have pulled backwards through a fence, Robert. Where are you going?”
He set down the suitcases and took both of my hand
s in his. “Cassandra, my dear, I want to thank you for your love. You are a true friend, and one I will never forget.”
“Robert!” I placed a hand against his cheek. “What has happened?”
He closed his eyes briefly and leaned into my hand. Sighing, he opened his eyes again. “I went to ask for Helena’s hand.”
“She has refused you?” I asked in disbelief.
“No, her guardian has refused to allow me to present my case.”
“Her—oh, you mean Lord Sherringham?”
“Yes. I can’t blame him, of course, I wouldn’t want a penniless man with no future asking for my sister’s hand. But I had believed…Helena is so…I had hoped…”
To my horror, I saw Robert was on the verge of tears.
“Oh, Robert!” I said, my own eyes filling. “Don’t listen to Lord Sherringham. You should have spoken with Griffin, he likes you. He approves of you. He would be happy to see you married to Helena.”
He shook his head. “It is to her guardian I must apply. He controls her—her—”
“Her fortune, yes, I know. I wondered if Helena would tell you about that. It would certainly allow you to marry and be coffee farmers, if that is what you wished.”
He slumped into a chair next to the hall window. “Even if I wanted to be the kind of a man who lived off of his wife’s money, I don’t have the choice now. Sherringham has refused to allow me to call on Helena again.”
“But, surely Helena does not care.”
“No, Cassandra. It’s one thing to ask a woman to support her husband if she has the ample means, but it’s another to ask her to forsake her rightful inheritance to live a life of genteel poverty.”
“Robert, you are being maudlin. There is no need for this. I am sure Griffin can help you—”
He stared at his suitcases, shaking his head. I had forgotten about them.
“Where do you think you are going?”
“To live with a friend in Chelsea.” He stood and kissed me on the cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I will let you know my address later.”
“There will be no need,” I said with much firmness. “You are staying here.”
“Cassandra—”
“I am not going to hear another word about you leaving.”
“It’s no use. I must go. I can intrude on Mabel and Joshua’s kindness no longer.”
I argued, I pleaded, and in the end, I finally badgered Robert into staying put. I felt that I had a better chance of helping him if I knew where to find him. Once I saw him safely returned to his room, I retreated to my bedroom to have a serious talk with myself.
“The truth is that you love Griffin, and although he has not actually said the words, you know he loves you,” I told myself as I paced the width of my room. “The only thing holding you back from spending the rest of your lives together in happiness is your stubbornness.”
The Cassandra who watched me in the mirror nodded and added, “In other words, until you are willing to compromise, you’re going to be miserable and unhappy and can never live in peace with the man you love.”
“Oh, what do you know, you’re just a two dimensional image,” I snapped at the reflection, and stared out the window at the darkened street for a few minutes before reluctantly admitting the truth of the statement.
A good portion of the stubbornness mentioned lay at my door. Griffin had repeatedly said that he did not want a wife who was arrested, but he said nothing about a wife who supported the cause in other manners. Recalling past conversations, I realized that his emphasis was on the dangerous aspect of my support, participation in the protests and demonstrations. I began to see a way clear to a compromise that would make Griffin happy and yet allow me to keep my self-worth and dignity. A glance at the clock on the mantle showed it was ten o’clock, too late to telephone or write him.
“As for the problem of Robert and Helena,” I told my smug reflection as I donned my night wear, “I’m sure once I have told Griffin about my decision, I can persuade him to help them.”
My reflection shook her head, but I ignored her, and fell asleep happy, wrapped in warm thoughts for a change.
Chapter Twenty
I dressed carefully the next day, wanting to look my best as I informed Griffin of my newfound resolution.
“Oh, Annie!” I said, pounding my dressing table. “Why is it I spend an inordinate amount of time and money obtaining clothing, and yet when I want something to wear, it appears I don’t have a single, solitary garment worthy of being seen outside the house?”
She smiled, and held out a mustard-colored dress. “How about this one, miss?”
“It makes me look sallow.”
She pulled out one of the Reform walking dresses. “How about this blue one? You haven’t worn it.”
“It makes me look lumpy,” I muttered. I was acting childishly, and I knew it. “Wait. I apologize, Annie. I’m out of temper this morning. Bring out the white lace blouse and the tan walking skirt. That will be good enough.”
Before I went downstairs, I knocked on the door to Robert’s room. He opened the door, tucking his shirt into his trousers. I pushed him back into his room, and ignored his shocked expression. “Can you be ready to go in five minutes?”
“Go? Go where?”
”I need to see Griffin.”
He smiled.
“Stop smirking and just tell me whether you want to accompany me to see Helena.”
His mustache drooped dejectedly. “What would be the good? I’m not worthy of her, and can never aspire to give her the things she is accustomed to.”
It took a great deal of forbearance, but I managed to not strike him. “Robert, I am going to tell you something that will make your problem easy to solve. It took me a while to figure it out, but it is really very simple.”
He looked at me with hope. “Yes? What is it?”
“This: either you can propose to Helena, and live happily ever after on a coffee ranch—”
“Farm,” he said morosely.
“—farm, or you can mope around until someone else who knows what he wants comes along and marries her.”
“She deserves someone like that.”
“Robert, I could strangle you! She deserves you! She loves you! You are the one she wants, and by heaven, you are the one I mean to see her have!”
It took a little arguing, but eventually he saw the wisdom of my reasoning and agreed to meet me downstairs.
“Cheer up,” I told him, leaving the room. “I have a feeling this is going to be a very good day.”
I raced down the stairs and was heading into the library when Mullin stopped me. “Miss Cassandra, a cabby just brought this note. It is marked urgent.”
Ignoring his look of curiosity, I took the note and read it on my way into the library. I stopped in the doorway, and turned back to the hall.
“Mullin!”
“Yes, miss?”
“Is the cabby still here?”
“He said he would wait out front for an answer, miss.”
I thought for a minute, then gathered up my coat and bag. “Tell Mr. Hunter to wait for me. I shouldn’t be too long.”
I dashed out the door, gave the driver the address listed on the note, and leaped into the waiting cab. Smoothing the note, I read it again. Cassandra: Come to this address as soon as you can. It is urgent and concerns a matter of grave importance. –G
Obviously Griffin must have news of the two men who were so bent on harming him.
I was right, as I often am, only I had it twisted around, as, alas, I frequently do. When the cab pulled up at a decrepit looking house, it was Percy who opened the door for me. He had acquired another pistol, I noticed with dismay as he pushed it into my ribs.
“Now don’t give me any trouble, and I won’t have to use this,” he said in a low, mean tone, pulling me inside before I could do so much as squawk.
We climbed a grimy and rotting staircase several flights to the top floor, stopping at a door bli
stered with age. I made a covert search for some sort of weapon that I might use to defend myself, but saw only refuse. The man with the gold tooth opened the door, rubbing his hands together gleefully at my appearance as Percy ushered me inside. “I’ve often said the best road is the straightest. You didn’t have a problem with the lady, did you Percy?”
“None at all, Merlin.”
“Merlin?” I asked, startled by his name. “I thought you were William?”
He laughed and took a step closer to me. “Mum had her fancies, she did. As do I—”
There was a note in his voice that was difficult to ignore, but I did my best. I raised my chin and reminded myself that I had triumphed over him on several occasions and although I was unarmed, I was not helpless. “Would you tell me why you have been following me? And why you have twice attacked Mr. St. John and myself? And why you have brought me, against my will, here now?”
I left out the solitary attacks on Griffin, feeling I had asked enough questions for the moment.
“Ah,” Merlin said stepping even closer and running a finger along my ear. “Now that is a complicated story. It may take some time to tell, a very long time.”
Pistol or no pistol, I was not going to tolerate being intimidated in such a manner. I reached out to slap him but he grabbed my arm and spun me around, my arm twisted painfully behind my back.
“Fun and games later,” he hissed in my ear. “Right now I have a little business to take care of.”
An entryway and several rooms led off the hallway, but Merlin ignored most of them as he marched me to the end and pushed me into a small, musty room with a warning not to try anything. He ignored my requests for information and demands to be set free with equal disdain, slamming the door and locking it quickly.
“I insist that you let me out!” I yelled, rattling the doorknob and pounding on the door, but it did no good. My hand went automatically to my head, only to remember I had left in such a hurry I was not wearing a hat.
“Damn.” I pulled out a hairpin and looked at it critically. It would not do as a substitute lock pick. “Now what?”
I examined my prison. The furnishings consisted of a small iron bed with filthy bedding, a wooden chair that looked frail, and a chamber pot.