Suffragette in the City (9 page)

“Yes.” Tracing idly around the notebook’s leather cover, I let my mind play with suppositions.

“All right.” She set down my sister’s orange cat Marmalade who seemed to prefer the library to any other room of the house. “Let’s take this in an orderly fashion. You believe that Mr. St. John has read the notebook, and might have told his brother about it. What if Lord Sherringham saw the information? What possible damage could he do with it? It is not as if he could use it to stop the campaign.”

Marmalade wandered over and begged a piece of seed cake from me before settling down on my lap. I stroked him absently as I thought. “I’m not so sure about that, Emma. There’s the arrest of the ten women protesting at the Hospital Ball, not to mention the three women injured in Manchester that Griffin mentioned. If the police are losing their tolerance of suffrage protests, the information from my notebook could allow them to halt the demonstrations before they began.”

“That does sound rather ominous. What are you going to do?”

I sighed. “I don’t know, that’s just the problem. I will, of course, tell Mrs. Heywood about the mishap with the notebook. She will certainly see the potential for damage, and may go so far as to censure me. As for the other matter, I can see no way to find out whether or not Griffin has revealed the information to his brother without compromising myself.”

“Have you thought of simply asking him about it?”

“I couldn’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“He’s a potential lover. The question would be tantamount to accusing him, and I could not possibly treat a lover in such a cavalier manner.”

Her facial tic returned. “As I see it, you don’t have many options open to you. I suppose you considered asking his sister for help?”

“Yes, and dismissed her for similar reasons as her brother, although without the carnal implications, naturally.”

“Naturally.”

I could have sworn I heard laughter in her voice, but when I glanced at her, her expression was somber. “It is a difficult situation, to be true, but I feel sure that whatever course you choose will be the appropriate one.”

I nodded my head glumly. Emma exclaimed at the time and dashed off for her historical reenactment costume fitting. I retired to my typewriting machine and transcribed my notes, my heart heavy and my spirits dulled.

Chapter Nine

It was with great relief a few hours later that I sat down next to my aunt in her plaid boudoir, a tribute to the late Queen Victoria’s love of the Scottish.

“I’m so glad we’re alone. I just don’t think I could cope with any more of Freddy’s proposals,” I said, accepting a cup of China tea. “I have had a very trying day, and I much need a few moments of respite.”

“Trying how, dear?” she asked.

“It’s…it’s a rather delicate situation.”

“Really?” Aunt Caroline looked at me with undisguised interest. “You’re not going to tell me to change this room again, are you? If so, you know your uncle won’t let me—his mother was a distant cousin of the late Queen.”

“No,” I replied with a wry smile. I looked around the room and tried not to wince at the abundant, and somewhat garish, collection of plaid furnishings. “Although I’m sure by now he would let you change the décor—but we’ll go into that another time. What I was referring to is of a personal nature.”

She sat back on a Black Watch plaid chaise and looked at me eagerly. “How very intriguing. It wouldn’t have anything to do with—”

“Ah, good, tea time!” Cousin Freddy popped into the room rubbing his hands.

“Hellfire and damnation!” I exclaimed.

He stopped upon seeing me and clasped his hand over his heart in a fashion that would be perfectly at home on the music hall stage. “Dearest cousin, beloved Cassandra. I knew you could not refuse me for long.” He perched himself on the arm of my Stuart plaid chair, and clutched my hand in his. “You see, Aunt—she has come to her senses at last and has decided to accept me. Happy day!”

“You are the most ridiculous man I have ever met,” I said, irritability overriding the fondness I normally felt for him. “What are you doing here? I thought rakes like yourself spent your days pursuing young ladies of fortune.”

“There’s only one lady of fortune I wish to pursue,” he said with a waggle of his brows. “I was at my club, but it’s too tedious for words so I thought I would return home. Since Aunt and Uncle have asked me to stay here while I recover from my broken heart, I think it only polite to be available when my presence might be wanted.”

“Your broken heart,” I muttered in disbelief.

“A heart, dearest one, that only
you
can mend.” He leaned forward and leered at me in a suggestive manner.

I was a little taken aback by the wolfish smile, and looked at my aunt. She watched us with a smile hovering around the corners of her lips. “You really are beyond the limit, Freddy. I wish to have a private talk with Aunt Caroline, so please take yourself elsewhere.”

“Have some good gossip, eh?” He looked interested. “Perhaps I should stay.”

“If you don’t go now,” I warned, sending him a look brimming with portent, “I will tell Uncle Henry what you did your last year at Cambridge when—”

There was no need to finish. Freddy made a polite bow and wished us well.

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am that blackmail always works on those of weak character,” I said as he left.

Aunt Caroline asked curiously, “What
did
Freddy do at Cambridge?”

“I’ll tell you another time. How are you doing with him constantly underfoot?”

“He’s not so bad, and he has nowhere else to go. Henry feels it is important to support the family, so Freddy visits us when we are in town—though I admit that sometimes he is rather trying. But tell me about your problem. Does it concern the handsome Mr. St. John?”

I looked at her in surprise. “How did you know that?”

She smiled and ignored the question. “I like him very much. And his sister, of course.”

“Sometimes I think you’re a witch. The problem does concern the St. Johns, but not in the manner you think.”

“I was not thinking of him in any particular manner, my dear,” she said gently as she poured me another cup of tea. “Were you?”

I thought about my curiosity regarding Griffin stripped naked, and blushed. “Well…possibly. He’s on my list of candidates, you see.”

“Candidates? Oh, for a lover?” She considered that idea for a moment before shaking her head. “No, I think not. He wouldn’t be suitable in the least.”

My stomach dropped. “He wouldn’t?”

“Definitely not. He is not the lover type of man. Some men are, you know. They may appear interested in one, and quite devoted, but after a certain length of time, their interest wanes. That is the type of man you should have for a lover.”

“I see.” I felt deflated again, as if someone had let all the wind out of my balloon.

She adjusted a pillow behind her back, giving me a gentle smile as she continued. “Mr. St. John is not at all that sort of a man—he is the type who, once his affections have been engaged, will be steadfast. His interest will not wane. You would find yourself with a permanent partner, not a lover whom you will eventually grow tired of and replace.”

The thought of having Griffin as a permanent lover didn’t sound at all unappealing. Quite the opposite.

“There is that, of course,” I said slowly. “But I admit that I’ve always had an admiration for constancy in a man. You and Uncle Henry, for instance, have been most devoted to you.”

“Yes, Henry is the same sort of man as Mr. St. John,” she said complacently, smoothing out the lace at her wrists. “He is the ideal husband, but as a lover…no. He would not have done.”

I made a little face as I thought over what she said, feeling as if the rug had been pulled from beneath me. Griffin had seemed so idea for the role of lover. What if, knowing I wished to remain unmarried for many years, he refused me? Would I ever be able to suffer the mortification of that? “Thank you for your candid advice,” I finally said, my mind full of miserable speculation.

“Not at all. Before I forget, dear, Henry and I would like you to attend the opening of that new opera tomorrow night. What is the name of it—the one where everyone dresses as peasants and drinks wine and the woman dies? Henry has taken a box for the season, and we both would like for you to use it.”

Almost as amused by her description of the opera as I was touched by her thoughtfulness, I thanked her and accepted. We chatted for a few minutes more, then I took my leave. As I stepped out into the hall, I was startled to find Freddy holding my russet wool coat.

“What on earth are you doing?” I asked curiously.

Freddy jumped. “I was just going to help you on with your coat,” he said with a smile.

A faint sense of unease rippled through my mind. Freddy had always been so warm, so charming, and yet for the first time, I thought I saw something other than fond affection in his eyes.

“Might I take this opportunity, dearest—”

“Thank you, Freddy, I would prefer you not.”

He sighed and placed a hand over his chest. “My poor heart will never heal at this rate.”

I smiled and patted him on his cheek. “I have every confidence that your heart will make a miraculous recovery just as soon as you meet a woman with a larger fortune than mine.”

“Cousin, you wound me!”

I laughed and allowed him to help me into the carriage, directing the coachman to Mrs. Heywood’s house in Islington. When I arrived, I was shown into a small study on the ground floor. I paced the room, worried about Mrs. Heywood’s reaction to my careless actions, biting my lip as I tried to formulate an explanation that didn’t sound too cowardly or weak.

Loud voices interrupted my pacing. I would have ignored them had one not caught my interest. The Irish brogue strongly resembled that of Maggie Greene, one of the Union officials. Although I am not one for eavesdropping, curiosity got the better of me. I opened the study door a crack and held my breath as I listened.

“. . . take it to a vote of the full membership. I’m sure the members won’t consider any such actions, Maggie. They are dangerous, unnecessary, and deliberately inflammatory. Such a plan would alienate us from the very people we are striving to reach.”

“Unnecessary, is it? Inflammatory, is it? Shame on you, Lenore Heywood, for turning your back on danger! Where our glorious cause is concerned, the end is worth any means. No action is too extreme, no sacrifice too great. We must strike now, while the House of Lords is still debating, to show them that we will not go quietly!”

Mrs. Heywood murmured a soft answer.

“I warn you, Lenore, I’ll not be pushed aside as you have the others. There are many women both in the union and outside of it who are behind me on this. We are gaining strength, and have more support than you can conceive. The time is coming when you will find your precious non-violent Union disabled and ineffective. You have one last chance to achieve success. Will you take it?”

“I have told you that we will not adopt a militant policy—”

Maggie spat out an invective as she strode to the front door, pausing to point her finger dramatically as she said, “You have been warned. If necessary, we will bring the Union to its knees to attain our goal. We could survive such a division—could you?”

She turned and stalked through the doorway before Mrs. Heywood could answer.

I returned to my chair, and prepared to interest myself in the stuffed hedgehog that resided on a table next to it, and was examining its curious snout when, a few moments later, the butler entered and informed me that Mrs. Heywood would see me. Though it was early evening, she greeted me in a lovely morning room filled with flowers and tapestries.

“You must forgive me for having you brought here, but it is my favorite room. Please be seated. What can I do for you?”

I explained the situation with the notebook as quickly as possible.

“And so the
brother
of Lord Sherringham returned the notebook to you?” Mrs. Heywood asked quietly when I was finished.

“Yes.” I felt sick thinking of the consequences of my carelessness.

“I see.” She contemplated the typed notes that I had given her. “You are aware of Lord Sherringham’s position in the House of Lords, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am. I cannot tell you how badly I feel about this terrible, terrible calamity—” I stopped myself abruptly. I was beginning to sound like Helena.

“I don’t believe it is as terrible a calamity as that,” she said with a faint smile. “You have no indication that the information was disseminated, although I believe it would be prudent to change the dates and locations of those demonstrations to be held a few weeks hence. We cannot do anything about the events in the next few days, but we will trust that there is too little time for action to be taken against us.”

“The rally tomorrow?” I asked, still miserable.

“That is public knowledge, so we have no fear for the integrity of that gathering.” Mrs. Heywood walked down the stairs with me and placed her hand on my arm as I prepared to take my leave. “Don’t worry. I have a feeling that in the large picture of life, this incident will matter little.”

She turned to go when I was finally unable to hold my tongue any longer. “Mrs. Heywood?”

“Yes, my dear?”

I glanced at the footman who was standing at attention next to the front door in preparation for my departure. I moved closer to her and dropped my voice. “I couldn’t help but overhear Maggie Greene earlier.”

She sighed, and passed a long pale hand over her brow as if fatigued.

“Is there a problem with the Union? I am concerned that Maggie is trying to divide the membership. Is there anything I can do to help stop such a tragedy?”