“Why not?”
“I am a New Woman. We believe in lovers, not marriage. Well, not marriage right away. I would like to marry you some day, Griffin. But not yet. I wish to fully explore loverhood first.”
“Your objection is ridiculous. We would do the same things as lovers as we would married.”
“Possibly, although you can’t deny there’s a lovely sense of illicitness that makes everything that much more exciting.”
“There’s also the fact that we are limited to only having brief moments together.”
“Yes.” I sighed and buttoned up my skirt. “But if you were to come to my house in the country, we would have time together.”
He gave me a look that let me know he didn’t like that idea much. “We will marry.”
“You don’t approve of me!” I felt obligated to point out.
He stepped back and raked me with his eyes. I blushed at the look. “On the contrary, I very much approve of you.”
I reached over to touch a curl lying against his ear. “That is, you do not approve of my political views any more than I approve of yours.”
“That is easily arranged. You give up your participation in the suffrage movement, and I will give up my opposition to the subject of women’s votes.”
“Oh, that’s a fine compromise! I forfeit all my rights and you lose nothing.”
“I won’t have a wife who gets thrown in prison for attacking policemen.”
“And I won’t have a husband who believes that it is his right to tell me how to live my life!” I stormed, buttoning up the last button on my shirtwaist. “And you know full well that was a false charge. I was doing nothing wrong. Ask Helena if you don’t believe me.”
He snorted. “I have asked her, and I get nothing but illogical diatribes about the abuse of women.”
We stared at each other across the huge cavern of differences that separated us. I despaired of ever crossing it.
“It comes down to this every time,” I said sadly, tears welling up behind my eyes. Why was he so maddening, so frustrating? Why couldn’t he step over his pride and meet me halfway?
His face worked with emotion.
“Oh—damn!” I said, furiously, kicking the leg of an overstuffed chair. Griffin’s eyebrows rose.
“Cassandra Jane Whitney,” he said softly, “I’m shocked by such language. I never know what you will say next.”
I looked at him, this man whom I loved with every part of my being, this man who sent me into raptures every time he touched me, this man who dominated my thoughts, and yet who made me so mad I wanted to do him bodily harm.
“I love you, Griffin St. John,” I said simply as I went over to unlock the door. “And if you weren’t so obstinate and stubborn, you would have the sense to see that. Now what, exactly, are you going to do about that?”
I didn’t wait long to find out.
Chapter Nineteen
When Robert returned home that evening from a visit to acquaintances in the city, Emma and I were in possession of Joshua’s library while he had gone off to visit his sister. The two old friends exchanged greetings, and settled down for a long chat.
“Emma is going to Paris for a few days,” I said conversationally. “I haven’t been to Paris in years. Perhaps we can make a short trip there together, sometime soon.”
“That would be delightful,” he said glumly.
I exchanged a glance with Emma.
“Robert, I hope you don’t mind, but Cassandra has told me something of your current situation,” Emma said. “Naturally, I am distressed that your brother has treated you so callously. Have you had any luck in obtaining sponsorship?”
He stood with a hand on the mantelpiece, staring into the fire with a most forlorn look upon his face. He sighed. “No. My brother seems to have done his work thoroughly. I can’t raise the capital it would take to buy another farm. So you see, my dear friends, it would be useless for me to make plans to go anywhere. Instead, I will begin preparations to remove myself from your sister’s kind charity, Cassandra. I will find a job somewhere in town.”
I gritted my teeth against the words that wanted to come out. Emma likewise bit her lip.
“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 hands 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—”