Suffragette in the City

  She went back to her work. “Go pay a call. Or read a book.”

  I stared out the window, uneasy.

  “Perhaps you could invite Mr. St. John for lunch?”

  “He’s busy today, writing an article for the Royal Geographic Society. I plan to visit Helena later, but she is gone this morning.”

  “With Robert?”

  “Yes, they have gone riding.”

  I soon grew tired of answering Mabel’s questions and listening to her talk about the trials of motherhood. In an attempt to shake myself free from the unpleasant feeling, I spent a few hours at the headquarters of a charity devoted to providing convict’s wives with employment.

  Much to my regret, Robert was still out when I returned home. Uneasy ennui settled over me again, leaving me almost desperate to be out and doing something. I walked the dogs, played with the twins, wrote letters to distant friends, and sat in the library until Joshua asked if I would kindly take myself elsewhere as my restless lurking made him nervous.

  I had just decided to go upstairs and weed through my wardrobe again with an eye to giving away the outcasts, when Robert returned.

  “There you are,” I cried, happy to see a cheerful face. “I wondered where you had been. Did you enjoy your morning?”

  Robert, adopting the expression worn by smitten men everywhere, was busy detailing Helena’s many charms when I cut him short.

  “Is Helena home now?” I asked.

  “She was when I left,” he said, still walking on the cloud of oblivion that love had created.

  “Ah. Good. I want to speak with her.” I chewed my lip as I tried to decide whether to telephone, or go in person. The desire to do something, and particularly the urge to see how Griffin was doing, made the decision an easy one.

  “I believe I will pay her a call,” I said, gathering up my coat and hat.

  Robert was in the process of wandering into the library when I spoke. He spun around and marched over to me and held my coat.

  “I will go with you,” he offered happily.

  I thought of teasing him about another visit so soon to his lady-love, but decided to leave him alone. Once in the cab, however, I could not help but broach a topic that had been on my mind for some time.

  “This is none of my business, Robert, except that you are an old and dear friend, and I think of Helena as I would a sister. Have you told her how you feel?”

  The color washed out of his face as he looked at me with something akin to grief. “I have no means, Cassandra. I have nothing to offer her but my undying devotion and love. How can I tell her my feelings? I cannot hope to marry her.”

  “We have been through this before, Robert. If you refuse to believe me when I tell you that it will not matter to Helena, ask the lady herself. You may be surprised to find out what she considers to be important in a suitor.”

  He looked so doubtful and miserable that I bit back the rest of the lecture I wanted badly to give him, and instead contemplated a visit with Griffin.

  The footman showed us into a small, dark, seldom used parlor while he ascertained the whereabouts of Griffin and Helena. I looked around with pleasure until I noticed that Robert seemed to be in the grip of some nervous complaint. His leg twitched spastically, and he was perspiring freely about the forehead. I was about to ask him if he was ill when the door opened. I turned with a smile on my lips to greet Griffin, and came face to face with Lord Sherringham. My smiled faded when the little man puffed up indignantly as he transferred his glare from Robert to me.

  “You!” he bellowed at me in a good imitation of Griffin at his loudest. “How dare you step foot in this house? How dare you show your face here? You will leave at once! That goes for you, sir, as well!”

  I thought briefly of running, but my recent experience with the earl gave me courage. My chin went up. “I am here to see your brother, Lord Sherringham, not you.”

  “You will not see him, madam. You will not see anyone in this house. Don’t think I am not aware of your insidious plans—I am!”

  “What plan would that be?” I asked cautiously, thinking of the Union plans.

  Robert, to the left of me, gripped the chair. I was pleased to see he showed no signs of intimidation, and instead looked as if he would welcome a battle himself.

  “Your plans to ingratiate your way with my brother. You will find that I am not oblivious as to the reason you have attempted to ensnare him. Can you deny that you are guilty of trying to get hold of his fortune?”

  I found it curious that the only reason Lord Sherringham could imagine a woman wanting to marry his brother was for money, and had that on the tip of my tongue when the door opened and Griffin strolled in. He had a smear of ink on the bridge of his nose, and a corresponding blotch on his hand. He looked so adorable I was hard put to refrain from kissing him in front of Robert and Lord Sherringham.

  I looked back at the earl. “I do not deny that I am guilty of an attachment to your brother, Lord Sherringham. But my motives in desiring him do not include greed.”

  I looked pointedly past him as I spoke, hoping he would take the hint, and would have said more had Helena not entered the room. She looked cool and lovely in a pale pink morning dress, her cheeks bright with matching color. “Is anything the matter? Why is Harold shouting? Robert?”

  Griffin stepped forward, lifted my chin with one of his strong hands, and kissed me gently, his lips lingering on mine, starting a slow burn inside of me. I sighed into his mouth as he pulled away.

  “Nothing is the matter, Helena,” he said, his eyes smoldering with desire. I smoldered back at him. Lord Sherringham started to sputter, but Griffin turned on him. “Sherry, you will apologize to Miss Whitney for your rude behavior.”

  “I will do no such thing.”

  Griffin took a step towards him. Although he made no move to threaten his brother, his anger was almost palpable, his voice dropping to a low, nearly inaudible tone. “Apologize to her.”

  Helena and I glanced at one another. We both recognized that growl. Lord Sherringham, still sputtering, looked at his younger brother hesitantly. Evidently he recognized it too, for he turned an even darker shade of red, then choked out, “I apologize for my comments.”

  “Consider them forgotten,” I said softly.

  Griffin as held the door for his brother. Lord Sherringham glared at each one of us, then, muttering what sounded like a string of oaths, stomped out of the room. I heaved a sigh of relief and turned to Helena with a feeble smile. She grabbed my hands in hers, and kissed me on the cheek.

  “I’m so sorry for whatever Harold said to you.” Her eyes wandered to Robert, quickly clouding with worry. I was astonished to see Robert looking pale and wan, as if he would be sick.

  “Robert? Are you ill?” I inquired solicitously.

  He swayed slightly, cleared his throat, and looked even worse, if that were possible. Griffin, standing next me, grinned. I frowned at him, ashamed that he should be so insensitive to Robert’s illness.

  “Robert, if you are in need of medical attention, I’m sure we can locate Doctor Melrose. Or perhaps you should sit down with your head between your knees. Griffin, would you get him some water?”

  I started over to help Robert to a chair but was stopped by Griffin’s hold on my arm. He spun me around towards the door, and shooed me out of it. “Helena, go show Cassandra—oh, show her the conservatory.”

  “Griffin!” I was puzzled by his behavior. “I believe I can do more good here with Robert.”

  “I doubt that,” he said, closing the door in our faces.

  “Well!” I said, looking at Helena in amazement. “What was that about?”

  She looked as puzzled as I felt as we walked down the hall to the conservatory. “I don’t know. Did Harold say anything to Robert?”

  “No. He confined his anger to me. But I am glad to have this chance to speak to you.” I sat down on a rattan chair next to a hideous molting macaw in a large iron cage. “I wanted to talk to y
ou about a problem in the Union…er…what on earth does it have?”

  She looked at the cage. “Oh, that’s his book. Raphael likes to chew on the paper.”

  I watched the bird for a moment as he carefully peeled a sheet of paper out of the book, gnawed on it for a moment, then dropped it.

  “I want to tell you about something unpleasant. I am sure you won’t like to hear it, but I believe it will do you good to know just what is going on.”

  “Oh!” She grasped the ruffles at her throat. “What is it? Tell me quickly!”

  “It’s about Maggie Greene,” I began, watching the bird out of the corner of my eye. “I happened to overhear a conversation among her and some of her supporters. Helena, I hate to tell you this, but they are using you.”

  “Using me? How can they use me?”

  “They plan for you to be a scapegoat,” I explained, then paused, fascinated as the bird peeled off another page. “What is he reading?”

  “Dante’s Inferno.”

  “Ah. Suitable.”

  A frown crossed her face as I related the conversation I had heard at the Hall, leaving nothing out. When I was done, she was pale, but had a fire in her eye that delighted me. “Thank you for telling me about this, Cassandra. I shall know what to say to Miss Greene when she next telephones.”

  “Has she been telephoning you?”

  “Sometimes. I know how you feel about the militants, but even you must agree that no price is too much to pay to further the cause.”

  “I certainly do not feel that way. Helena, I am as devoted to women’s rights as much as any other Union member, but I believe there is a line we must draw. Arson, attacking police, breaking windows—they are all examples of actions that have gone too far. Why, I read in The Times that there are women in the east who have made it a policy to ram their hatpins into the flanks of police horses!”

  She gasped in horror.

  “Yes! Can you possibly condone such atrocious acts of cruelty?”

  “No, of course I can’t.” She wiped at a misty eye. “But you are so devoted to the cause. Was it not you that said to compromise on any part of suffrage was to lose the battle?”

  I moved in my chair uncomfortably. “Well, yes. I want to talk to you about that as well. I have decided—you know that Griffin and I—”

  She smiled gently. “I know about you and Griffin.”

  “No, not that. Or yes, that. Helena, I have decided that after the next protest, I will no longer participate in any other demonstrations.” I watched with fascination as the bird sat on the bottom of the cage, wadding up the paper into little brown balls. “I would not even attend that protest, but after our promise to Mrs. Heywood that we would support her at the candidate’s meeting, I can hardly refuse to join in that one, last protest.”

  “I shall miss you in the fight for our rights, dearest sister. Without your charming spirit, your happy countenance—”

  “Spare me the flattery, Helena,” I said abruptly. “I had hoped you would join me in the decision to end our protest careers.”

  “I will no longer support Maggie Greene, of course, after her treachery, but that does not mean I shall leave the cause as you will do.”

  “I have no intention of leaving the cause,” I said firmly. “I feel strongly that Griffin will have no objection to my supporting the issue in a less active manner. I shall continue to do my part in every way except the actual demonstrations and protests.”

  She cheered up at that thought. “What an excellent idea. There are hundreds of ways we could make ourselves useful, and still make our—” Her gaze dropped.

  “Husbands happy?” I finished with a smile.

  “Perhaps. Certainly your husband will be happy with our decision. Very well, Cassandra, I agree. I will stand by your side for the candidate’s meeting, and will make it my last demonstration as well. Are you sure, though? Have you considered your decision fully? I would hate for us to compromise our beliefs in such a manner that will prohibit our involvement in any form.”

  “I understand your reticence. I know you enjoyed the idea of demonstrating, but I honestly believe that this is a solution that will allow us to live in harmony with our husbands and still retain our self-respect and satisfy our needs to see justice done. Mrs. Heywood herself has said that not every woman is required to go into battle; warriors can be found in many guises.”

  She blushed at my frank speech, and picked at the embroidering on her sleeve. “You may speak for yourself, of course, you’re so happy with Griffin, but I don’t believe I shall ever marry.”

  Another lovesick sweetheart, I sighed to myself as I watched the bird assemble a collection of small paper pellets. “Helena, not twenty minutes ago I had a conversation with Robert about you.”

  She looked up, her eyes thick with tears. “About me?”

  “Yes. Although I am breaking his confidence, I can assure you that he feels towards you as you feel about him.”

  “Are you sure? You spoke with him? He loves me?”

  I could not help but smile. Things were working out so well. “Yes to all of your questions. So, wipe your eyes and keep your spirits up. I have a feeling you will soon be as happy as I am.” A thought struck me. “In fact, unless I am mistaken, your happiness is the very reason Robert wished to speak with Griffin.”

  “Oh,” Helena said happily.

  My eyes were drawn to the bird. “What does he do with the paper pellets?”

  She looked at me blankly for a minute, then frowned at the macaw. “He ejects them at the servants. He’s Letitia’s bird.”

  “That would explain a great deal.”

  “Cassandra, why is Robert speaking with Griffin? Why isn’t he speaking with Harold? It is Harold who has control over my fortune.”

  “He has spoken with Lord Sherringham,” I spoke softly, watching her carefully.

  “He has?” The color faded from her face as she put a hand to her mouth. I expected her to swoon, but she surprised me. “It doesn’t matter. I am old enough to marry whom I please. I will have control over my fortune in four years, and then it won’t matter what Harold thinks.”

  Her face was flushed now, and she had a peculiar light in her eyes. I was happy to see that she, at least, would fight for the one she loved.

  If only Griffin has done his job, I thought to myself, and given Robert the assistance he needs. We did not have a long wait to see if he had; the door opened and both men walked in. Robert was flushed, but looked cheerful. Griffin was no longer grinning, although I detected a certain twitching about the corners of his mouth that was suspicious. He held out his hand for me. I glanced at Helena. She looked as if she would faint.

  “Helena?” I asked, rising to go to her, concerned about her waxen appearance. Griffin grabbed my hand, and pulled me toward him.

  “Come, my dear. I want to talk to you.”

  “Griffin, now Helena is ill.”

  “No she’s not. Come with me.” He pulled me out the door, and led me to a small room off the hall. It was filled from floor to ceiling with books. I turned to face him.

  “What can you be thinking? First Robert, and now Helena—” I paused. It occurred to me that Helena might not really be suffering.

  Griffin nodded.

  “Thank heavens. Now I can stop being a confidante of the lovelorn. It has been a rather frustrating job.”

  He frowned for a moment, then spun around and left the room. “Stay here. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Griffin’s study gave an interesting insight into the man—it was untidy, but fascinating. I had just settled down with a book containing engrossing descriptions and illustrations of the natives of Borneo when he returned.

  “I wanted to make sure Sherry didn’t interrupt them, but I couldn’t find him.” He frowned at the Borneo book. “That’s not suitable reading for a lady.”

  “Oh, don’t be such an old maid. I am a New Woman. I have a lover. Penis sheaths and
virgin sacrifices are nothing to me.” I looked up to where he stood. “Were you aware that there is a tribe in Borneo that has a ritual of manhood consisting of three young men and one nubile—”

  He snatched the book from my hands and put it in a drawer, leaning against it. I smiled and stood up to kiss him. “The book also had some interesting things to say about mating rites. I believe I would like you to explain them in greater detail.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled my neck. I twined my fingers through his curls and kissed a line along his jaw. “I will be happy to do so at a later date.”

  “Mmm. I’ll hold you to that. Did you give Robert the push he needed?”

  “I gave him a whiskey and the benefit of my advice,” he murmured as he sucked my earlobe into his mouth. “The rest he’ll have to do himself.”

  “I should ask how you are feeling today,” I breathed, running my hands over his hard-muscled torso. As much as I liked touching him, I couldn’t help but wish it was his bare flesh my fingers were skimming over. “The doctor would expect me to check you out.”

  “Perhaps a physical examination is in order,” he answered, his hands tugging and pulling until they slipped under my shirtwaist, the warm heat of his palms cupping breasts that had been clamoring for just very touch.

  “I don’t believe we have time for that,” I pointed out, unable to keep from wriggling against him. He was aroused, and would, I believe have settled for a quick examination if I hadn’t remembered something I needed to do. I slid out from his embrace, circling behind a tall armchair. “I have something to say to you.”

  Griffin put a hand on the chair and took a step forward. “What would that be?”

  “It is about us.”

  “I’m always happy to discuss that subject.” He took another step forward and I found myself in the circle of his arms again.

  I put my hands on his chest and pushed out of the embrace. “No, none of that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I need to talk to you, and it is impossible for me to talk any sense when you…you know.”

  “When I do what?” he asked, moving closer. His lovely amber eyes mesmerized me, deep, endless pools of amber that I could gaze into for an eternity. He pulled me tighter. “Perhaps you mean this?”