Suffragette in the City (13 page)

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Authors: Katie MacAlister

Tags: #romance

BOOK: Suffragette in the City
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“Oh, but you’ll come, won’t you? I
had
thought you might like to have your cousin as your escort,” she smiled, “but perhaps now you would prefer someone else.”

I sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t have that many male relations who would be able to accompany me, so even if I did want to attend—and I must admit I have thought of an excessively cunning costume—my lack of an escort will keep me home.”

“Oh, but surely there must be someone…I beg your pardon, Cassandra, that was rude of me. Of course, if you would rather not go I can understand your desire to stay home. But dear, dear friend,” she grasped my hand and pressed it between her lovely amethyst-colored gloves, “if it is simply for the lack of an escort, your problem is solved. I’m sure Griffin would be delighted—”

I pulled my hand back quickly. “No, thank you, Helena. It will not be necessary to foist me upon your brother. Besides, a bachelor escort who is not a relative would never be acceptable in the eyes of society.”

“Why, Cassandra,” Helena said, clearly amused. “I never thought you would be a slave to society’s rules.”

I squirmed a bit at her gentle teasing. “I’m not, for my sake. But there are my aunt and uncle to consider…oh! That might be the answer to my problem. I wonder if they have been invited?”

“I’m sure they must be, your uncle is such a prominent man. What an excellent solution! You could attend with them, and we could stand together and make wicked comments about the couples dancing.”

“I doubt that you will do much standing,” I said with a smile.

She smiled back happily, and we indulged in a cheerful gossip for the remainder of the trip. I was just about to ask her a few subtle questions about Griffin when we arrived at our destination. I put my hand on her arm as she started out of the carriage. “Helena, please . . . let me caution you about becoming too involved with Maggie Greene’s group. I know you are excited and determined to do your part, but please allow your good sense to guide your actions.”

She flashed a smile. “I won’t do anything that I think you wouldn’t do.”

I followed behind her, far from reassured. 

Maggie stood in a cluster of about twenty women. She was a little perturbed to see me, but took my appearance in stride. “Ladies, this is an important protest that we will make today. Has everyone a sign?”

Helena
held up her hand, and one of Maggie’s minions brought over two signs. Helena’s read
Women Demand Equality
, while mine mysteriously proclaimed to one and all that I was
Ignorant No More
.

The bulk of the women, including Helena, were gathered in a cluster at the front of the club entrance. Maggie sent me down the street about half a block with the instruction to wave my sign at every passing vehicle. I was rather hesitant to leave Helena, but her assurance that she would not act foolishly still rang in my ears. Giving her one last uncertain look, I took my assigned position.

The club steward came out and wrung his hands anxiously as he spoke with Maggie, but she soon sent him packing. A few minutes later, a pair of constables arrived and proceeded to shoo away Maggie and the others.

I moved closer, expecting the worse, but she surprised me with her acceptance of the inevitable. Gathering the group together, she herded us across the street. “The club clearly has the local police in their pocket,” she informed us with a determination that filled me with foreboding. “We are forbidden to demonstrate directly in front of the entrance. They said nothing about demonstrating across the street, however, so this is where we will make our stand!”

As we took our new positions, vehicles poured into the street from the far end. I peered into a few of the carriages and motorcars as they stopped alongside the curb, but they were all empty. A suspicion began to take form when the first group of men exited the club.

Maggie and her contingent were in a knot directly across from the club exit; as the first gentleman stepped out onto the pavement, the militants increased the volume of their chants and waved their signs vigorously. The man ignored them and marched down the street to where his motorcar was waiting.

Uneasy, I started for Helena; as I dodged one of the protestors who was shaking her sign vigorously, I saw Maggie’s hand flash and heard the impact as a stone smashed the window of the motorcar parked opposite.

“I knew it!” Horrified, I dropped my sign and ran forward as the women began flinging stones with abandon. Torn as I was with the desire to haul Helena away, I was more concerned about Maggie harming someone. I launched myself at her from the side, hoping that the others would stop if I could down her. We fell together, hitting the pavement with a force that made my teeth rattle. Hats flying, we startled a few of the women closest, but the rest seemed to think nothing as we rolled in the street, Maggie screaming curses and trying to gouge my face with her fingernails.

Rocks and debris dug painfully into my back as I did what I could to wrest a large stone from Maggie’s right hand, and at the same time keep out of reach of the talon-like left. A sharp elbow to my jaw made me see stars but had the benefit of reminding me I wasn’t a helpless victim. Gritting my teeth against the pain of Maggie’s knee in my ribs, I made a fist and punch out blindly. Luckily, I connected with her face, snapping her head back into the curbstone. I hauled myself upright, breathing heavily, my lip swollen and wet from where she had landed a blow. I licked off the blood as I got to my feet, bending over to examine Maggie. She was dazed but not seriously hurt.

“Helena!” I yelled, trying to get her attention. She seemed oblivious to me.

Several other women in the street yelled oaths and profanities at the men as I pried the stone from Maggie’s fingers. They continued to stone the club members, most of whom had taken refuge within the safety of the building. Two of the men stormed out into the street with the intent of stopping the attack. As I straightened painfully, a stone whistled past my ear and struck a man as he approached.

Maggie kicked out at my leg just then, and I went down painfully on top of her. My fall seemed to knock the wind out of her for she stopped struggling and lay inert, gasping for air. As soon as I was able to stand, I ran forward to help the injured man up off the street.

“Are you all right, sir? Let me help you—” my voice died as the man looked up. “Oh, my…Lord Sherringham.”

A shadow fell over me as I tried, despite his incoherent sputtering, to help him up. I stepped back and bumped into a large, hard object.

“I beg your pardon,” I said automatically, stepping around the object. A hand descended upon my shoulder and spun me around to face Griffin.

“Is this the sort of activity you champion, Miss Whitney? The stoning of men has a biblical quality, I grant you, but it is not one I would’ve believed you to condone.”

“No—of course not—” I stammered, at a loss for an explanation. “I do not condone it…in fact, I was trying to stop the women from throwing any more—”

Griffin
looked down at my hand which still held the stone I had wrestled from Maggie, then up at me with an eyebrow raised quizzically. “Do you often find it necessary to carry a large rock with you?”

I flushed, knowing full well I would never be able to explain the events. The thought crossed my mind that someone, somewhere was having a good deal of fun at my expense. “Yes, Mr. St. John, I often do carry a large rock around with me. I find it comes in handy when I am called upon to knock someone silly with it. Perhaps another time I can demonstrate the technique for you.”

A flash of blue to the left caught my eye. I groaned and turned on my heel as two constables rushed up. Having executed their plan with brutal success, the militants had scattered when they’d heard the sound of the bobbies’ whistles. I walked rapidly across the street to where Helena was standing, her arms limp at her sides, her mouth forming an “Oh!” as she watched Lord Sherringham assisted back into the club.

“Helena? Don’t worry, I’m sure your brother is all right. I suggest you go home and wait for him there.”

She didn’t move, but went a shade paler. I put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Helena?”

“Oh, Cassandra,” she wailed suddenly, flinging herself on me. “What have I done? Why didn’t I heed your warning? I could have killed Harold with that stone! How could I have done it?”

I felt Griffin’s presence behind me. I was confident he would shield Helena from the wrath of the police, but knew he wouldn’t go to any trouble to keep me from being arrested. Not even the fact that we had shared a very pleasing kiss would be enough to excuse what he believed to be my latest folly.

Helena
suddenly noticed the policemen arriving in large numbers. She gave a gigantic gulp and looked like a scared rabbit. “What—what will they do with me?”

“Nothing, if you leave now. I’m sure your brother will tell them you had nothing to do with any of it.”

Helena
was plainly terrified at the results of her violent actions. I was pleased by that for a moment, and then without warning, I was furious. I spun around and faced Griffin, angry at the circumstance that I found myself in, angry that he would never believe my innocence given the evidence against me, and angrier still that I had not been able to keep Helena out of trouble and shield her from the baser side of life.

“Just so you know—what Helena did was not her fault. She was under the influence of an extremely persuasive person, and if you say one word of criticism to this poor girl, I will take great pleasure in doing you a bodily harm, no matter what effect it might have regarding your candidacy for position of lover.”

One of the bobbies, seeing me wave the stone at Griffin, ran over to where we were standing and placed a restraining hand on my arm. “Now then, no more of that, miss. You’ll have to come with me, you and the other lady.”

“I will do nothing of the kind,” I said primly, ignoring the stunned look on Griffin’s face. “I have committed no crime, and do not have the time to spend discussing the issue with you.”

He tightened his grip and would, I believe, have forced me to accompany him had Griffin not regained his wits and stepped in.

“You are mistaken, Constable,” he said. “This lady and the other were simply passing down the street and attempted to stop the attacks.”

Helena and I looked at one another, she with terror written plainly on her face, and me with astonishment at Griffin’s action.

“Is that so?” the constable asked, clearing harboring some suspicion.

He looked from my stone to Helena’s sign.

“Er...she just picked that up,” I said, pointing to the sign.

She squeaked and dropped it.

“And that?” the constable asked, nodding at the rock in my hand.

“She took it from one of the women,” Griffin said. “I saw her do so.”

“Did she now. And yet this lady looks as if she’s been fighting,” the policemen told him, eying me dubiously.

“You can’t take a rock from a woman bent on stoning people without some sort of a struggle,” I said a righteous snort.

It took another five minutes of Griffin waxing eloquent before the policemen finally accepted our stories.

“I’ll be taking your names as witnesses,” the bobbie warned, doing just that. “I’d advise you to be on your way, and stay away from any such disturbances in the future.”

He moved off to join his colleague, and we were left staring at one another. Feeling there was nothing more to be said, I squeezed Helena’s arm reassuringly as Griffin handed her into his motorcar.

“I will take you home,” he said to me. “I can come back for Sherry afterward.”

“That’s not at all necessary. Your brother should probably see a doctor as soon as possible. I’ll take a cab.”

“Stay here,” he told Helena, and escorted me down the street to the nearest available cab.

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