Three days had passed since Esther had last seen Lawrence, and every hour she missed him more. Standing in the basement department at Pennington’s, she stared at the mannequin in front of her. Rather than her focusing on her work or joining in the chatter of her colleagues as they sewed and pinned, her mind was filled with thoughts of the man she loved and how he fared with his mother in a place he despised.
She’d received a brief phone call from him the evening before unhappily telling her that he’d summoned for the children and Helen to join him at Culford. It seemed his plans to say his piece and return to Bath had been scuppered when he’d seen just how deathly ill his mother was. He could not find it in himself to walk away from his sisters a third time, leaving them to deal with their mother’s death.
So, he would remain in Oxfordshire until his mother died.
Her heart ached with love for him, every hour he was gone was another hour she missed him more. Her selfishness was abhorrent. He could hardly be blamed for her falling in love with him, for growing to care for him as she did.
They’d parted on good terms and she appreciated his dying mother should be his only priority. Now was not the right time for them to further deepen their romance. He had responsibilities that did not include her or the Cause. He had a responsibility to a family who were in real crisis. Whenever he returned to Bath, he should not feel he had to pursue the suffrage auction or ball in haste. The Cause could wait, if necessary.
No matter his feelings about his mother, Esther could not believe her death would not in some way affect him. She would do all she could to help him through this difficult time, but would it be enough when she rarely felt strong enough to care for her own heart? Lawrence came from a landed family and had duties to the estate, tenants and house she could only imagine.
Maybe she’d been foolish to spend the weeks contemplating what it would be like – feel like – to become a part of his wonderful family. To have daily time with Rose and Nathanial, to enjoy laughter and games as well as helping them through trying times.
Lawrence barely knew her, or she him.
Their hopes and declarations of a future together had often been said during their more intimate moments, when their responsibilities and commitments had felt a thousand miles away.
She’d surrendered her barriers and given him her heart, body and soul.
Pride for him swelled inside her. No matter what Lawrence felt about his mother, Rose and Nathanial would now have the opportunity of seeing where their father had been raised… albeit despicably. Was there a small chance that Lawrence might now consider that Culford was where he belonged?
She wouldn’t blame him if he came to see that she, a lowly shop worker, one who gave her opinions freely and passionately, who wore her heart on her sleeve, for better or worse, an activist… would hardly make a suitable wife for so successful a man. And what of his children? Would he really be happy with her opinions, thoughts and desires being spoken or demonstrated in front of them?
She thought not.
But all she could do was remain strong and pray Lawrence returned to her.
A lump rose in Esther’s throat and she snatched a pin from the cushion on her wrist to finish heightening the hem of the velvet skirt on the mannequin in front of her.
She stabbed the pin through the material and straight into her finger. ‘Damnation.’ She sucked at the glistening red blob that immediately broke and spread across her skin. ‘Now, look what I’ve done.’
‘Esther, are you all right?’
She straightened and took her finger from her mouth. ‘I’m fine, Amelia. My mind is so distracted today, I just managed to stick myself with a pin.’
Her colleague frowned. ‘Your distraction has been present for more than just today. You’ve been absent from Society meetings for over a week and even suggested to Miss Pennington I be given free rein for the new east window on top of the extra responsibilities I’ve already been given.’
Esther smiled. ‘Because you are worthy of the task. Not because I’m out of sorts.’
Amelia frowned, her gaze uncertain. ‘Are you sure there’s nothing I can do for you?’
Hating that she’d allowed her emotions to hover so close to the surface her colleagues had cause to notice, Esther walked to a chest of drawers and pulled out a kit containing an array of bandages and tape. Dabbing at her throbbing finger with a tissue, she quickly covered it and tied off the small piece of gauze.
‘I’m fine. I think I might leave a little early, though.’ She faced Amelia and glanced around the room where her team worked dressing mannequins or at sewing machines. ‘Some fresh air might help clear my head a little.’
‘Good idea. We’re only working on adjustments, rather than design or display work. If you can’t escape early today, when could you?’ Amelia smiled. ‘Let us hold the fort for a while. If Miss Pennington asks after you, I’ll say you left for an appointment.’
‘Thank you.’ Suddenly desperate to be away from the store and outside, Esther strode across the workroom and took her hat and purse from the wall hooks. ‘I’ll see you bright and early in the morning.’
She walked to the door and up the stairs until she entered the atrium. As usual, the shop floor teemed with people busy perusing and buying Pennington’s sought-after merchandise. The store’s signatory black and white bags were prevalent amongst the array of coloured outfits, sparkling counters, glittering perfume and jewellery. A soft violin concerto serenaded the floor as people meandered back and forth.
Satisfaction warmed her. No matter the doubts about her personal life, she hoped she’d always have Pennington’s in which to take pride and pleasure.
Heading to the double doors, she nodded to the doorman and walked onto the busy street. The late June sky was a perfect blue, the sun shining, basking people in its soft warmth.
Esther breathed deep. A perfect time for a walk.
With nowhere in particular to go, she headed towards Victoria Park.
The sun beat pleasantly against her face as she passed shops, hotels and the music hall. She continued to walk until a poster pasted to a wall snagged her attention. She stopped short.
Votes For Women! Join the Society today!
Amelia was right. Not attending the Society meetings was completely uncharacteristic of Esther. She’d thought of little else but Lawrence and his family since he’d left. How could she have neglected her passion and purpose for Pennington’s and the Society? These were the places where she was truly in her element. Where she spent time with like-minded men and women, who inspired and energised her very reason for being alive.
She turned, quickly sidestepping a horse and its rider as she hurried to the other side of the street. Ducking into the narrow alleyway that housed the Society’s meeting place, Esther passed the tightly packed shops which lined either side, lingering in perpetual semi-darkness. With each step, the mouth-watering smells of spices, baking bread and sweet pastries filled her nostrils, the cobblestones beneath her feet baked dry under the summer’s slowly rising temperatures.
Deeper and deeper, she ventured into the alleyway, until she came to a stop by the nondescript, darkly painted door between a haberdashery and an ironmonger, Esther glanced either way along the alleyway. Content she wasn’t being observed, she curled her knuckles and knocked out the secret code, apprehensive it would most certainly have changed since the usual practice was to create a new one each week.
Footsteps sounded, before a small opening in the door was pulled back and Louise’s deep brown eyes peered through. Her gaze immediately widened. ‘Esther! It’s so good to see you.’
Smiling, Esther waited for Louise to open the door and then stepped into her friend’s welcoming embrace. ‘I’m sorry for being away this past week.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Louise released Esther and stood back. ‘I’m sure you had good reason. Come in. Quickly.’
Silently admonishing herself for showing such a lack of subterfuge, Esther quickly stepped inside.
Louise closed the door. ‘Come upstairs. You’ve arrived just in time.’
‘For what?’ Esther’s curiosity ran wild with possible ideas the group of women had put into place since she’d been away. ‘Have I missed a breakthrough?’
‘Unfortunately, not.’ Louise stopped outside a closed door and smiled sheepishly. ‘But I’ve called an unscheduled meeting to discuss some new plans.’
‘I can’t apologise enough for being away. I’ve had—’
‘Things going on.’ Louise touched Esther’s arm, her eyes kind. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. Obstacles and commitments are bound to come up for all of us, meaning we have to step away from time to time. The important thing is, you’re back and, hopefully, ready for our next strategy.’
Louise led Esther upstairs into the meeting room, the noise levels high at the table of gesturing, chattering women. Their fiery energy seeped into Esther’s stomach, and she embraced the excited tingling that followed.
It was here and at Pennington’s where she truly belonged.
Lawrence had sped her heart with his wonderful gaze, erotic touch and scorching kisses, but it was in this room and at the store she could make changes in an unforgiving world. No matter how much she hoped Lawrence would return to her and find a way to heal, he bore the scars of his childhood so deeply, she feared he never would.
‘Come and take a seat.’ Louise waved Esther to the table. ‘You have much to catch up with, but I hope you’ll cast your vote tonight after hearing what we have planned.’
Quickly discarding her jacket and hat, Esther hung them on the stand by the door and walked to the table. She leaned over Louise’s shoulder and eyed the detailed and meticulously drawn map laid out on its surface. Esther frowned. The road which led from The Circus, where Lawrence lived, to Royal Crescent had been drawn through with red pen.
The women’s voices whirled around her.
Fire.
Explosives.
Paraffin.
Unease whispered through Esther, raising the hairs on her arms. What on earth were they contemplating? Was the group turning militant? Nausea rose in her throat. The possibility of something violent unfolded in front of her and, in that moment, Esther knew with absolute certainty she could not take part in anything that would endanger another human being, no matter the Society’s struggles.
‘So…’ Cecilia Reed stood and pushed out her ample bosom, her eyes alight with an almost manic gleam. ‘We need a volunteer to actually plant and light the explosive in the postbox and three or four volunteers willing to create distractions, if or when, they are needed.’
Esther stilled. ‘Have we decided to turn suffragette?’
Louise gripped her arm, her cheeks flushed with excitement. ‘Yes. We’ve had enough, Esther. Our peaceful efforts aren’t working. Last week, the post office was broken into and—’
‘Wait. The post office?’ Esther stared at her friend in horror. ‘Were you or Wyatt hurt?’
‘No. It was after hours and it seems whoever was behind the break-in knew that we spend Tuesday evenings with Wyatt’s mother. Anyway, the post office wasn’t their target. Our meeting room upstairs was.’
‘What happened? Did they take something?’
‘No, but they ripped all our plans and pamphlets to shreds and left some rather disturbing threats on our blackboard. Wyatt informed the police about the break-in, but they can do little with the perpetrator unknown. When he told the local MP, his appeal was dismissed out of hand.’ Louise looked around the room, her jaw tight. ‘So, instead of backing away after this challenge, we’ve decided to increase our presence and, if making a stand comes in the form of fire, so be it. No more peaceful campaigning. It’s time to join the ways of so many in London.’
‘But—’
‘Everyone, could I have your attention, please?’ Louise raised her voice above the cacophony bouncing from the walls. ‘I’d like you all to welcome Esther back after her brief time away.’
Esther forced a smile even though some of the faces around the table – especially Cecilia’s – were less than friendly, her absence clearly resented and suspected. Heat burned in the centre of her chest. If she made a stand against their plans, would she be ejected from the group permanently? The Cause still beat in her heart and burned in her blood.
She had to prove to herself that her passion could be unwavering and strong in any circumstances. Or else she would be nothing more than the weak woman she vowed never to be. Maybe, with her input, they could ensure no casualties and certainly no fatalities.
‘It’s wonderful to be back and I hope to do all I can to support our fight. However,’ she inhaled a shaky breath, slowly released it as she anticipated the backlash of her opinion, ‘an explosive in a busy street will clearly put the innocent at risk. Would it not be better to start by smashing some windows after nightfall just as others have in Manchester, Liverpool and London? How about the town hall? We can ensure the building is empty before we strike, minimising the risk of anyone being hurt, but we would have made a solid statement.’
Cecilia crossed her arms. ‘The decision to set fire to the postbox on Brock Street has already been made. You are either with us, Esther, or against. You cannot expect us to bend to your suggestions. The fight is continual. All of us have families. Some with jobs they are committed to also, but we are here. You need to prove your involvement or leave.’
Annoyance burned in Esther’s cheeks. ‘All I’m saying is, if we—’
‘No. You have not been party to these plans and weren’t even aware of the attack on the post office. Now, in order to prove your commitment to the Cause, shall I mark you down as the volunteer to plant the explosives?’ Cecilia sneered in triumph and looked around the table. ‘Ladies, any objections to Esther planting the explosive on Brock Street?’
A ripple of murmured agreements and nods circled the table.
Esther’s stomach sank. How could she set fire to a postbox so close to Lawrence’s home? How could she set fire to anything knowing an innocent bystander could be hurt?
‘Well?’ Cecilia’s hardened gaze bored into Esther’s. ‘Are you to be our volunteer?’
Esther looked around the table, trying her best to make eye contact with each woman. Slowly, the hostility lessened, and a few smiles of encouragement were sent her way. How else could she be accepted back into the fold? She had to concentrate on what was real.
She cleared her throat, her gaze locked on Cecilia’s as once more Esther’s suspicions rose that the woman’s motives weren’t always founded in obtaining the vote. It so often seemed Cecilia’s goals lay somewhere else entirely. Esther’s distrust lingered. ‘As I was not part of the vote to turn militant, I won’t plant the explosive, but I will be a lookout for bystanders or police to ensure no one is hurt.’
Louise tightened her grip on Esther’s arm, her gaze relieved. ‘Perfect.’ She faced the group. ‘We need a different volunteer to plant the explosive. Esther has her role at Pennington’s to think about. If she’s caught, she would most certainly lose her job. I believe public interest in Pennington’s will be important to us in the future. It would be a mistake to jeopardise the advantage of having members working there.’
Esther’s heart thundered. To lose her job at Pennington’s was to lose half of herself, but the Cause was the more ardent half in that moment. She had to be a part of this plan. Maybe, if she was there on the day the explosive was planted, she could find a way to stop the plan from going ahead. She had Lawrence to think of, Rose and Nathanial and so many others.
She moved her hand to her stomach as it knotted with unwelcome trepidation… possibly another life, too.
She stood a little straighter and held Cecilia’s gaze. Her stubbornness regarding militant action and the planting of explosives unnerved Esther to everything she suspected in Cecilia’s personality. The woman was up to something. Something that most likely had less to do with the Cause, and everything to do with Cecilia’s own needs.
Turning away, Esther took a deep breath. If Lawrence were to find out she had been involved in anything violent, she would lose him. But how could she not do this when these women were whom she relied upon? Women who would stand by her no matter her background, breeding or passions. Surely, she could find a way to make her mark without anyone being hurt? She had to follow through her mother’s struggles and do all she could for Britain’s women. She had no other choice.