Suffragette in the City (30 page)

“I am not going to hear another word about you leaving.”

“It’s no use. I must go. I can intrude on Mabel and Joshua’s kindness no longer.”

I argued, I pleaded, and in the end, I finally badgered Robert into staying put. I felt that I had a better chance of helping him if I knew where to find him. Once I saw him safely returned to his room, I retreated to my bedroom to have a serious talk with myself.

“The truth is that you love Griffin, and although he has not actually said the words, you know he loves you,” I told myself as I paced the width of my room. “The only thing holding you back from spending the rest of your lives together in happiness is your stubbornness.”

The Cassandra who watched me in the mirror nodded and added, “In other words, until you are willing to compromise, you’re going to be miserable and unhappy and can never live in peace with the man you love.”

“Oh, what do you know, you’re just a two dimensional image,” I snapped at the reflection,  and stared out the window at the darkened street for a few minutes before reluctantly admitting the truth of the statement.

A good portion of the stubbornness mentioned lay at my door. Griffin had repeatedly said that he did not want a wife who was arrested, but he said nothing about a wife who supported the cause in other manners. Recalling past conversations, I realized that his emphasis was on the dangerous aspect of my support, participation in the protests and demonstrations. I began to see a way clear to a compromise that would make Griffin happy and yet allow me to keep my self-worth and dignity. A glance at the clock on the mantle showed it was ten o’clock, too late to telephone or write him.

“As for the problem of Robert and Helena,” I told my smug reflection as I donned my night wear, “I’m sure once I have told Griffin about my decision, I can persuade him to help them.”

My reflection shook her head, but I ignored her, and fell asleep happy, wrapped in warm thoughts for a change.

Chapter Twenty

I dressed carefully the next day, wanting to look my best as I informed Griffin of my newfound resolution.

“Oh, Annie!” I said, pounding my dressing table. “Why is it I spend an inordinate amount of time and money obtaining clothing, and yet when I want something to wear, it appears I don’t have a single, solitary garment worthy of being seen outside the house?”

She smiled, and held out a mustard-colored dress. “How about this one, miss?”

“It makes me look sallow.”

She pulled out one of the Reform walking dresses. “How about this blue one? You haven’t worn it.”

“It makes me look lumpy,” I muttered. I was acting childishly, and I knew it. “Wait. I apologize, Annie. I’m out of temper this morning. Bring out the white lace blouse and the tan walking skirt. That will be good enough.”

Before I went downstairs, I knocked on the door to Robert’s room. He opened the door, tucking his shirt into his trousers. I pushed him back into his room, and ignored his shocked expression. “Can you be ready to go in five minutes?”

“Go? Go where?”
”I need to see Griffin.” 

He smiled.

“Stop smirking and just tell me whether you want to accompany me to see Helena.”

His mustache drooped dejectedly. “What would be the good? I’m not worthy of her, and can never aspire to give her the things she is accustomed to.”

It took a great deal of forbearance, but I managed to not strike him. “Robert, I am going to tell you something that will make your problem easy to solve. It took me a while to figure it out, but it is really very simple.”

He looked at me with hope. “Yes? What is it?”

“This: either you can propose to Helena, and live happily ever after on a coffee ranch—”

“Farm,” he said morosely.

“—farm, or you can mope around until someone else who knows what he wants comes along and marries her.”

“She deserves someone like that.”

“Robert, I could strangle you! She deserves
you
! She loves
you
! You are the one she wants, and by heaven, you are the one I mean to see her have!”

It took a little arguing, but eventually he saw the wisdom of my reasoning and agreed to meet me downstairs.

“Cheer up,” I told him, leaving the room. “I have a feeling this is going to be a very good day.”

I raced down the stairs and was heading into the library when Mullin stopped me. “Miss Cassandra, a cabby just brought this note. It is marked urgent.” 

Ignoring his look of curiosity, I took the note and read it on my way into the library. I stopped in the doorway, and turned back to the hall.

“Mullin!”

“Yes, miss?”

“Is the cabby still here?”

“He said he would wait out front for an answer, miss.”

I thought for a minute, then gathered up my coat and bag. “Tell Mr. Hunter to wait for me. I shouldn’t be too long.”

I dashed out the door, gave the driver the address listed on the note, and leaped into the waiting cab. Smoothing the note, I read it again.
Cassandra: Come to this address as soon as you can. It is urgent and concerns a matter of grave importance. –G

Obviously Griffin must have news of the two men who were so bent on harming him.

I was right, as I often am, only I had it twisted around, as, alas, I frequently do. When the cab pulled up at a decrepit looking house, it was Percy who opened the door for me. He had acquired another pistol, I noticed with dismay as he pushed it into my ribs.

“Now don’t give me any trouble, and I won’t have to use this,” he said in a low, mean tone, pulling me inside before I could do so much as squawk.

We climbed a grimy and rotting staircase several flights to the top floor, stopping at a door blistered with age. I made a covert search for some sort of weapon that I might use to defend myself, but saw only refuse. The man with the gold tooth opened the door, rubbing his hands together gleefully at my appearance as Percy ushered me inside. “I’ve often said the best road is the straightest. You didn’t have a problem with the lady, did you Percy?”

“None at all, Merlin.”

“Merlin?” I asked, startled by his name. “I thought you were William?”

He laughed and took a step closer to me. “Mum had her fancies, she did. As do I—”

There was a note in his voice that was difficult to ignore, but I did my best. I raised my chin and reminded myself that I had triumphed over him on several occasions and although I was unarmed, I was not helpless. “Would you tell me why you have been following me? And why you have twice attacked Mr. St. John and myself? And why you have brought me, against my will, here now?”

I left out the solitary attacks on Griffin, feeling I had asked enough questions for the moment.

“Ah,” Merlin said stepping even closer and running a finger along my ear. “Now that is a complicated story. It may take some time to tell, a very long time.”

Pistol or no pistol, I was not going to tolerate being intimidated in such a manner. I reached out to slap him but he grabbed my arm and spun me around, my arm twisted painfully behind my back.

“Fun and games later,” he hissed in my ear. “Right now I have a little business to take care of.”

An entryway and several rooms led off the hallway, but Merlin ignored most of them as he marched me to the end and pushed me into a small, musty room with a warning not to try anything. He ignored my requests for information and demands to be set free with equal disdain, slamming the door and locking it quickly.

“I insist that you let me out!” I yelled, rattling the doorknob and pounding on the door, but it did no good. My hand went automatically to my head, only to remember I had left in such a hurry I was not wearing a hat.

“Damn.” I pulled out a hairpin and looked at it critically. It would not do as a substitute lock pick. “Now what?”

I examined my prison. The furnishings consisted of a small iron bed with filthy bedding, a wooden chair that looked frail, and a chamber pot.

“Not a very inspiring collection,” I mused, eyeing the skylight about ten feet above me. I had no ladder, unfortunately. “The first order of business obviously is to escape so I can warn Griffin.”

I looked again at the skylight. If I could reach it, I could make my way along the roof and climb down the building. It was not a pleasing idea, but it was the only one that seemed remotely feasible. I was not about to try to force my way past two men, one of whom was armed.

Before I formulated a plan, footsteps echoed down the hallway toward my room. I snatched up the chamber pot and held it behind me, intent on using it as a weapon if the unsavory William/Merlin chose to attack.

The door opened. “Here’s some water for you, miss. We wouldn’t want you to croak before you’ve been claimed, now would we?”

“Claimed?” I asked, ignoring the dirty bowl of water that Percy thrust toward me. “Claimed by whom?”

“By your betrothed, of course,” he cackled.

Still laughing, he closed the door, turning the key in the lock even before I could make it to the door.

I waited a few minutes to make sure he would not be back, using the time to contemplate his comments. “Now is not the time to waffle. Griffin has to be warned.”

Half an hour later I perched on the end of the bed, upended onto its foot and secured to a nail in the wall with strips of the filthy bedding. I used a plank from the bed to balance myself, straightening up slowly to my full height. The bed creaked and wobbled, but the makeshift rope held. I reached up the remaining few feet to the skylight and opened it. I took as firm a grip as I could manage, breathed deeply, and hauled myself upward.

It took several tries, but eventually I hoisted myself up so that my upper half lay outside of the skylight while my legs flailed below. Bits of rock and debris ground painfully into my arms and torso as I pulled myself forward and sat panting next to the skylight. There was no way I could undo the makeshift ladder, so I closed the skylight as quietly as possible and surveyed the rooftop.

It was not very promising, but at least the section I was on was flat. The sides sloped down to a narrow ledge with windows leading into the floor I had just left. As I was assessing the situation, a cab rattled on the street, sending me over to the edge of the roof to peer down on the arrival. If it was Griffin, I would try yelling down a warning before the thugs had him in their grasp.

Although my position on the roof made it difficult to see who had arrived in the cab, I could tell it wasn’t Griffin—this man was much thinner, and probably a few inches shorter. I was about to turn back to the door when I noticed an open window on the floor below.

“How very thoughtful of Mr. Jones,” I muttered to myself as I avoided the pots and loose bricks until I stood directly above the window. I tried leaning over the edge as far as I could, but to no avail—I could not see in the window. A glance across the street relieved the worry that some concerned resident might come out to see why a woman was on the roof opposite. There were very few people on the street, and those present did not look up.

The beginnings of a plan formed in my head. Before leaving the building, I felt it prudent to ascertain what Merlin and his friend had in mind regarding Griffin. I went back to the skylight and paced off the length to the open window. It looked to be halfway down the hall from the room in which I had been placed.

“All well and fine, but if I can’t get to it…” The words trailed off as I glanced down at the ledge. It was about six inches wide—wide enough to walk along if I were very careful. I made my way down to the corner of the house and examined the drainpipe. It seemed to be somewhat loose, but I thought it would hold me long enough to get to the ledge. From there, it was only four windows down to the open one. I gnawed on my lip as I considered my options.