Suffragette in the City by Katie MacAlister

of evils. With myself at your side, you would never need worry about your personal safety.”
    “I don’t worry about my personal safety now, Freddy.”
    “But you should, Cassandra. If you continue your connection with the suffragists, you must surely expose yourself to all sorts of violent elements, and I know how you abhor violence.”
    “Freddy—” I protested, growing uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. Beside Emma, Freddy was the only other person who knew what extreme lengths my father’s fury had often taken.
    “Fairest one, I do not wish to cause you pain by reminding you of the unpleasantness of the past, indeed, it is my intention to shield you from ever having to experience such atrocities again. You must see, however, if you continue to pursue your work with the Union you run the risk of becoming involved in unwholesome situations.”
    “Unwholesome? Freddy, you exaggerate.”
    “Have you read the morning papers? There was a demonstration in Manchester last night. Three women were hospitalized with broken bones after the crowd assaulted them.”
    I was silent, unsure of what to say.
    “Cassandra, I have seen you beaten and bruised time after time, and was unable to do anything about it. I will not allow you to put yourself in such a position again.”
    It was on the tip of my tongue to point out that I had no choice in the matter of my father’s abuse, but I knew he hadn’t really meant to imply that I had allowed myself to be beaten. “Thank you for your concern. I can only promise you that I am using the utmost caution, and have every intention of continuing to do so. Now if there is nothing else, I really must go.”
    “Cousin—”
    “Good bye, Freddy,” I said firmly, and gently rang off.
    It was noon when I sat down again to write Helena. I was not altogether sure if the note would reach its intended recipient. Lady Sherringham seemed the type of person who would feel no qualms about interfering with Helena’s mail. I was in the library, chewing on the end of a pen and staring at a blank sheet of writing paper, wondering what to say to Helena, when visitors were announced.
    “I will never get this blasted note finished at this rate. Who is it now—”
    I took the card Theodore the footman offered, and leaped up with an exclamation of joy. I almost trampled the poor lad so quick was I to run down the stairs, flinging open the door to the drawing room, and saying, “Helena! I am so glad you brought my coat. I was about to write to you to request it. You will never guess—”
    Griffin stood by the window. My heart jumped unreasonably, and suddenly there was no air in my lungs. He turned and looked at me curiously.
    Helena held out her hands as she approached, kissing me cheek as she said, “Please forgive us, dear Cassandra, for calling without notice. I hope we haven’t disturbed you.”
    I looked at her elegant tweed walking suit with cream satin waistcoat, then down at my new dark green day dress with black corded piping and sighed to myself. No matter how new my clothes, Helena always succeeded in putting me to shame.
    “Not at all,” I said weakly. I offered my hand to Griffin; he took it and looked at it as if it were something faintly unsavory, then released it and turned away.
    I wondered what it was about him that had caught my unwilling fancy. Once I had thought him pleasant in appearance, but nothing more. But now I looked on his features—his nose a shade too pronounced, his jaw set with a firmness that belied obstinacy, his eyes perhaps a little too far apart—and my heart beat with a rhythm it had never adopted for anyone else. If only I could shake myself of this unreasonable interest in the man. Perhaps if I was to indulge myself in a carnal relationship with him, my ardor would cool.
    I was considering just what form a carnal relationship might take when I realized that Helena was looking at me expectantly. “Where are my manners? Please, sit