Esther gripped her knife and fork as her appetite for food was replaced with an appetite for Lawrence’s understanding. ‘The Cause is about more than the vote. It’s about…’ She searched the restaurant, her gaze falling on one woman after another. She faced him, enthusiasm rolling through her. ‘It’s about liberation. Having women embrace the belief they are equally as capable, equally as powerful, as the men with whom they share their lives.’
‘Hmm.’ His eyes glazed a little as though a thought had struck him and then he frowned. ‘Yesterday, I had to speak with three of the hotel’s chambermaids about their recent behaviour away from the hotel.’
Confused by the change in subject, Esther raised her eyebrows. ‘And their behaviour had something to do with what I just said?’
‘Yes and no.’ He picked up his water and drank, before slowly lowering the glass to the table. ‘My manager was disturbed that they were asked to leave a club recently for overexuberance fuelled by drink and youth. I was immediately concerned but wanted to hear their side of the story. They explained they were doing little more than what men do all the time. They asked why they shouldn’t have some innocent fun in their leisure time, too? Why it’s frowned upon for them to go out unchaperoned when men are free to come and go as they please.’
Esther smiled. ‘Exactly. These women seem admirably spirited.’
‘Oh, they are. And by the end of my time talking with them, a reprimand from me had felt entirely unjustified. I asked them to show a little discretion and sent them on their way. I’m wondering now if they could be the perfect candidates to set to work on any suffrage campaigning we might plan from the hotel.’
‘That’s a wonderful idea.’ Esther eagerly sat forward. ‘Are these women fairly young?’
‘Eighteen or nineteen.’
‘Then they will be perfect. Women as young as eighteen sometimes feel the fight is not theirs as they cannot see how a vote will ever be given to them. Whereas I think the younger the women involved, the better. They are our future, after all.’
His beautiful blue eyes remained intense on hers. ‘Are you widely open with your work?’
‘What do you mean?’
He lifted his shoulders. ‘Do you demonstrate? Talk publicly about your dreams and desires for women?’
‘Of course.’ Esther studied him. The lowered tone of his voice and the seriousness of his expression indicated a shift in his demeanour. She couldn’t help but worry her slipped reference to his remarrying had in some way offended him. She cleared her throat. ‘Why would you think otherwise?’
‘Oh, I don’t. I can imagine you’re as forthright with anyone else as you are with me.’
So, she had annoyed him. Her confidence wavered and she took a sip of her water. ‘I try to be, but it’s not always easy. There are more suffragists groups throughout the south-west than there are suffragettes. As a suffragist, I aim to help with peaceful campaigning, but, as I said to you before, I’m finding doing so increasingly difficult. I appreciate your concern for my welfare, but, if the future should require it, I’ll do whatever is necessary for women to be heard, and I’m sure others in our group will, too. This isn’t a battle, Lawrence, it’s a war. If we must take up arms to prove victorious, so be it.’
He stared at her before giving a curt nod and picking up his knife and fork. ‘Then I’ll do all I can in the hope you aren’t forced into militant action.’
The softer tone of his voice spoke of his care. Of intimacy.
Esther looked to her food and speared a small piece of potato. She could not encourage his care. She needed his support and help, but not his care. That would mean they had traversed the line between associates and friends. She wasn’t sure that either of them should step over that line. At least, not yet.
‘And I thank you, but you barely know me. The Cause and what it means to you should be your only interest.’ She lifted her eyes to his. ‘What do you have in mind to contribute?’
‘I’ve hosted fundraising events for many different causes as well as helping to fund the Votes For Women newspaper. I’m also a member of the Men’s League for Women’s suffrage, an active role… but a peaceful one.’
Esther could only stare at him. To happen upon a man in the street admonishing his daughter for wanting a cricket set and making such a snap judgement of his character was shaming.
She shook her head. ‘I misjudged you very badly indeed, didn’t I?’
He smiled. ‘You did.’
‘I’m sorry, Lawrence. Truly. I sometimes allow my passions to run away with me. My father considered that to the detriment of my character, whereas I’d like to think it a virtue, but that doesn’t mean our meeting hasn’t made me realise the folly of quick and mistaken judgement.’
He ran his gaze over her face, lingering a moment on her mouth. ‘I would hate to see you change in any way. There are many men out there who, like me, believe it will only be a positive step forward for women to have the vote. Let’s try to achieve that without causing harm to anyone or anything.’
Esther ate another bite of lamb. How could she think less of him for his care? Think less of him for believing there would be a peaceful breakthrough. But how was she, Lawrence or the Society supposed to achieve such a thing? Still she failed to come up with an intervention that would lead to success. As one of the leading group members, many of the women looked not only to Louise for guidance and inspiration, but Esther, too. Yet, as more and more time passed, she felt herself failing them.
Would the government eventually agree to the women’s demands through speech only? She couldn’t believe it to be true.
She laid down her fork and picked up her water glass. ‘Women have resourcefulness, courage and endurance to match that of any man. Do men not resort to war eventually? Battle lines will be drawn, Lawrence, no matter how much you or I might not want that.’ She inhaled and slowly released a breath, suddenly wanting him to understand how much she had already revolted against. How she’d learned to stand tall and strong alone. Frustration seeped into Lawrence’s expression and unease whispered through her, causing her defences to rise. ‘Why are you looking at me that way? Have I said something you don’t like? Something to make you think asking me to dinner is the very last thing you should’ve done?’
‘You misread me. What you see is genuine concern. Concern for you. To the life I believe you cherish.’
Her heart thundered, as she fought not to squirm under his scrutiny. Why did she suddenly feel as though he could see inside her heart and mind? What was wrong with her? Why had she told him – a relative stranger – so much of her history? Of her parents? He had clearly guessed that her passions were everything to her. Something she hadn’t even shared with Louise or Elizabeth.
Esther swallowed. Because no one else had ever looked into her eyes and immediately known how she truly felt, rather than the outside façade of independence and determination.
He continued to study her; the chatter, clinking of glasses and cutlery seeming to increase in volume, only adding to her sudden claustrophobia.
At last, he lowered his shoulders and looked to his plate. ‘Let us put our heads together and come up with a new avenue to explore. A new strategy to action. Then I can decide what funding I’m willing to donate.’
Money. Why was he turning the conversation to money? Did he think she wanted him to join forces with her because he was wealthy? Indignation swept through her. ‘You think I don’t have money of my own?’
‘I didn’t say—’
‘I have possibilities of my own making. It’s not money I am looking for from you, it’s belief.’ She cursed the prick of tears behind her eyes. ‘In me. In women. In Rose.’
His jaw tightened. ‘I’ve already told you Rose is in my thoughts with this. You have my belief. How can you think otherwise when I’ve already told you of my prior commitment to the Cause before we met?’ He glanced past her shoulder as though not wanting to look at her. ‘If we’re to work together, you have to stop presuming anything about me or my children.’
Frustration lowered her voice as she stared at his profile. ‘I’m not presuming anything. By whatever means, I intend to make a change in this world. Shake the authorities out of their ignorance and better the country. But the moment I mention Rose, a little girl who will one day be a woman of my age, you become angry. Why?’
He turned his gaze to hers, his cheeks mottled. ‘Is it really necessary I explain myself? You’re clearly already a good judge of my character.’
Esther’s heart thundered. Were they really arguing in so public a place? Yet, instead of leaving, she leaned closer, adrenaline flowing through her on a dangerous wave.
‘Could it be you’re angered because, deep inside, you don’t really want anything more for Rose than for her to be dependent on you, to love you forever and never doubt your word or your motivation? That, in her eyes, you are forever her saviour, teacher and controller. Maybe you’re a member of the League to soothe your own foibles. To make yourself acceptable to your female hotel guests and staff as much as the men. Could you be straddling two sides of the argument in an effort to keep everyone happy? If yes, then your part in the fight is merely superficial.’
‘Super—’ His eyes flashed with fury. ‘I have never controlled Rose or Nathanial in any way other than fatherly and with love. I believe in the vote. I believe in women. How can you even think to say such things to me?’
She’d pushed him too far. She had no right to paint him the same colour as her father. Yet he’d provoked her shame, her fear for other girls who loved their fathers with the depth she loved hers. It wasn’t right for a daughter to rely solely on a man who could one day let her down and send her into exile when her opinions differed with his.
She stood and dropped her napkin onto the table, her hands shaking. ‘I should leave.’
‘Do you not like me challenging you?’
Insult struck her, and no matter how much she felt the right thing to do was to go, she could not when such anger burned in his eyes.
She slowly lowered to her seat and took a hefty gulp of her wine. ‘I don’t want to argue with you, but you must understand how hard it is to be reliant on a man when he could let you down.’ Her words tumbled out of her despite wanting to bring their dispute to an end. ‘One who might have a life planned for you that you want no part of.’
‘I would never do that to Rose.’
She looked deep into his eyes, her heart stumbling to witness such sincerity in him. She lowered her voice. ‘You can’t be certain of that. I’ve been forced to see that no father can. No matter how much he might have loved his daughter when she was growing up.’
‘Loved? I’ll always love Rose.’
Esther closed her eyes, fighting her tears as the love her father had once had for her slammed into her heart, splintering another crack across its surface. She opened her eyes. ‘Well, my father stopped loving me a long time ago.’ With that, she stood. ‘I’m leaving, Lawrence. I’m sorry.’