Suffragette in the City by Katie MacAlister Page B

Union.” I spoke absently, suddenly wondering about his bandaged hand.
    As his words sunk in, I looked up in surprise. Given the feelings that the earl had so vehemently expressed the night before, I had no doubt that Helena’s foray into political activism would be swiftly and irrevocably nipped in the bud.
    “However,” he said loudly and with some force, “that does not mean I authorize her to participate in any demonstrations or public displays. I cannot control your actions… “
    My eyebrows rose at the very idea.
    “. . . but I would recommend you stop your campaigning as well. I’ve heard from Sherry that the new head of Scotland Yard is proceeding with a strict policy of non-tolerance against suffrage demonstrators. If you don’t want to be arrested, I’d advise you to stay clear of any further public scenes.”
    His speech over, he sat back down on the couch and looked at me belligerently, as if challenging me to make a defense. I wondered briefly if he had an ulterior motive in allowing Helena to join in the union, but was unable to think of any benefit her participation would have for him or his brother.
    I surprised both of us by saying simply, “I agree with you. It would be unwise for Helena to expose herself to any danger by becoming involved in a suffrage protest, and I am sure she will agree to such a reasonable request.”
    Helena looked at me with open-mouthed surprise. “I don’t agree all!” she cried. “How can you say that—you who feel so strongly, and know how strongly I feel about the cause?”
    I spread my hands in a placatory gesture. “I know you hold the cause very tightly to your bosom, but you must see that about this, your brother is right. There is no reason to risk your personal safety.”
    “I see no such thing. I will be at the rally tomorrow!”
    “Rally tomorrow?” Griffin repeated suspiciously. He turned to me. “What rally tomorrow?”
    I waved my hand in a dismissive fashion. “A small rally in Hyde Park. It’s a minor gathering, no demonstrations, no protests, just an attempt to raise funds and public awareness for the Union.”
     “Helena will not be attending the rally, Miss Whitney.” He tugged at the bandage on his hand as he spoke. “And I strongly urge you to reconsider your attendance at such a public spectacle.”
    “Mr. St. John, I took umbrage with you when you used that particular word before, and I take umbrage at it now. How you can interpret a peaceful, organized rally at Speaker’s Corner as a spectacle is beyond me!”
    He looked surprised by the vehemence in my voice and absently continued to pick at the bandage. “You may consider your cause one that is peaceful and organized, but I would be willing to wager that the public does not see it that way. Helena will not attend.”
    “Griffin!”
    We both turned to look at Helena, who had risen and was standing with fists clenched. “I am twenty-one years old and of legal age. If I choose to participate in a peaceful rally in Hyde Park with my dear friend Cassandra, then I shall do so.”
    I gave her a mental pat on the back for standing up for her beliefs, and smiled smugly at her brother, who looked stunned at her vehemence. A dull red color flooded his face as he started to answer, but I interrupted, unable, any longer, to stand him tearing away at the remaining bits of bandage. “What did you do to your hand?”
    “Eh? Oh, my hand. I had an accident—some damned fool knocked me down with his motor car.”
    “Good heavens! You were lucky to escape with only a minor injury.”
    “Lucky?” he snorted, tearing off a shred of bandage and placing it absentmindedly into his pocket. “I would be a good deal luckier if people would learn to handle their motors before they took to the public streets with them.”
    Helena , reminded of her brother’s recent accident, lost her belligerent look. A glimmer could be seen in her eyes, and I hoped we wouldn’t have a repeat of her tears. “You