The Heiress Effect
Page 59

Oliver snorted, but when the women in front of him looked at him with narrowed eyes, he raised his hands. “She’s right,” he said. “I only want her to be safe.”
The women exchanged glances—but then with a shrug of their shoulders, they unlinked their arms. Free stepped between them and linked her arms with theirs.
“Oliver,” she said, in a tone of disgust. “What are you doing here? It’s not safe.”
He stared at her in disbelief. She always did this to him—made him feel that his world was upside down and backward. “What am I doing here?” He looked around. “It’s not safe? I’m not a girl of sixteen, Free. I didn’t sneak out of my home in the middle of the night, all alone, to make my way to London.”
“Yes,” Free said. “I want to know what you are doing here. You likely left your home in the middle of the morning, and I don’t see you with a chaperone.”
“This isn’t about me.” He looked her in the eye. “It’s about your coming to the most dangerous place in all of England, one where violence is threatened.”
She cocked her head and looked around. “Oh,” she said slowly. “Violence. I see.” She raised her eyebrow at a street-seller hawking his wares directly behind them. “What’s he going to do, hurl pies at me?”
“Besides,” Oliver said, ignoring this inconvenient aspect of reality, “you’re sixteen. I can’t believe you took the train alone.”
“You keep using the word alone,” Free said. “But you told me once that I should seek answers before arriving at conclusions. Mary Hartwell drove me in her father’s cart to the station. We took the train together. And because we’d communicated our intention to participate to the women’s chapter of the Reform League, we were met at the station. I’ve never been alone, not once.” She jiggled her arms. “Do I look alone?”
“Yes, well, but still…” He glanced to her side, at the dark-haired woman who was pretending not to listen to their conversation, and then to the other side where the blonde was openly grinning.
“From four in the morning until six, I’ve been with this group,” Free explained. “We discussed the practicalities of the rally. Women may not be as strong as men, but we can be formidable in number.”
“I have to admit that your friends make an effective barrier. Still, there was some risk—”
“We had procedures,” Free said. “We discussed them this morning. Every one has two women watching out for her, and watches out for two other women in turn. That way, we know everyone’s safe at all times. We don’t wander off. We don’t let anyone into the perimeter.” She cast Oliver a hard glance. “If one of us is arrested, we’ve all committed to being taken to the station.”
“Free.” He rubbed his eyes.
“Anna Marie Higgins—she’s the lady over there in the sailor hat—she’s been taken to the station thirteen times already.” Oliver glanced to his right.
Miss Higgins didn’t look like a hardened suffragette. She was dressed in a lovely, fashionable sky-blue dress. She’d topped this off with a sailor’s hat, one that she’d adorned with bright blue ribbons that waved in the breeze.
A passing man raised his fist in the air. “Votes for all!” he said.
Miss Higgins blew him a kiss.
Oliver shook his head and turned away. “I’m not sure that you should admire a woman whose main recommendation is that she’s managed to garner a baker’s dozen of arrests.”
“Who else am I supposed to admire?” Free asked. “You? You’re here lecturing me on how my behavior was unsafe, but I took greater pains to secure my safety than you did. You’re a duke’s son in the midst of a potentially hostile mob. For God’s sake, they’re playing the Marseillaise over there. Who knows what could happen to you?”
“That’s ridiculous!” Oliver said hotly. “I only came to find you. Don’t turn this around to be about me. I don’t care what safeguards you took; it’s still dangerous. This is risky. Even if it turns out that nothing goes amiss, this could have been a violent mob.”
Free refused to be ruffled. “You appear to believe it’s acceptable to risk that danger to come and, uh…rescue me.” She rolled her eyes. “I believe it’s acceptable to risk that danger to come and say that women deserve the vote. Why is your risk gallant and mine foolish?”
“Damn it, Free. This isn’t the time to chop logic. We need to get you out of here.”
Free only smiled. “Oh, that’s so lovely. When I induce you to swear, it’s because I’ve argued you to a standstill. Cut line, Oliver. You know I’m right even if you refuse to admit it. And stop being ridiculous; I’m not leaving. If the crowd turns to violence, I’m safer surrounded by a hundred women who have discussed the finer points of safety than I would be all alone with you. What would you do if we were attacked by a mob?”
“I would—” He paused.
“You would be ripped limb from limb.” She gave him a beatific smile, completely at odds with her words. “Don’t worry, big brother. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Damn it, Free,” he repeated.
She laughed and looked back to her friends. “This is my brother,” she said. “His name is Mr. Oliver Marshall. He likely won’t leave until everything is over. Where should he stay and glower?”
“You can’t cross the perimeter,” one of the women said to him. “Only women inside the circle, and I hope you can understand the reason for that. But my brother is standing against that tree there, watching out for us in case anything goes wrong. If you’d like to go join him, you’d be welcome.”
Oliver shook his head at his sister, and she grinned at him. “Enjoy yourself, Oliver. The Reform League has promised Miss Higgins the chance to speak, and I’m sure you’ll love what she has to say.”
There wasn’t much to say after the rally. The constables intervened only so far as to suggest that people vacate the park before dusk fell, and by then, nobody seemed to object to this suggestion.
The mood was jubilant. The government had promised to quash the demonstration with all its might; the people had promised to quash the government’s quashing of their demonstration.
The people, it was generally agreed, had won. Decisively.