The Scandalous Suffragette

by Eliza Redgold

  Arabella’s thin fingers squeezed Violet’s. ‘I’d do it again. It’s you I have to thank, Violet.’

  ‘You want to thank me? Why?’

  ‘The speech about the women’s votes you gave at the garden party. You have a gift. It inspired me to join the Cause. It has changed my life. It has changed me.’

  ‘I can see that,’ Violet said, stunned.

  Arabella glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘We haven’t much time. There’s something else I must tell you.’

  Violet leaned in. ‘What is it?’

  Arabella hesitated. ‘Adam may have told you. He tried to protect me and Jane, but our childhood was quite—distressing.’

  ‘He told me some of it,’ Violet said gently.

  Arabella shuddered. ‘There were dreadful scenes. Terrifying to a child. I learned to keep my feelings under control and so did Adam. But he feels things, deeply. When you left him I thought his heart would break.’

  Violet put her hand to her bodice. Her own heart began to thump.

  Arabella coughed. ‘He walked around Beauley Manor as if he were a ghost. He didn’t sleep, he didn’t eat. I’d hear him at night, pacing the solar. Jane brought home some Coombes Floral Creams to remind him of you. She thought it might make him happier. But Adam was so angry. He threw them away. He said he never wanted to see a Floral Cream again.’

  ‘I can’t believe it.’ Violet’s voice trembled.

  The prison guard clanked her keys. ‘Time’s up.’

  Violet’s eyes welled with tears. ‘Oh, Arabella. We have to get you out of here.’

  ‘There’s no need. I’ll survive it. This is won’t be the last time I’m imprisoned. I’ll never give up the fight for the Cause,’ vowed Arabella. ‘You know what we say. Never surrender.’

  Briefly, they embraced, while the prison guard looked the other way.

  ‘Adam missed you so much,’ Arabella whispered as she left the room. ‘You had to know, Violet.’

  Violet pulled her coat tight around her stomach.

  Behind her the huge prison doors slammed shut.

  She staggered. The visit had been exhausting, physically and emotionally.

  ‘Violet.’ She spun around to find Adam behind her, in his top hat and frock coat.

  ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ he said. ‘I’ve got the carriage.’

  Violet opened her mouth.

  ‘Please, Violet.’ He spoke again before she could say any more. ‘I must hear about Arabella. Come into the carriage. We need to be private.’

  Wordless with relief, she followed him. She needed to be with him, just then. What Arabella had told her rang in her ears.

  He quickly surveyed the street around the prison before he opened the carriage door.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked in an undertone.

  ‘Reporters,’ he said briefly. ‘Looking for scandal.’

  Pressure passed through his glove to hers as he helped her into the carriage.

  He frowned before climbing in after her, seeming to note her pallor. ‘You’re shivering.’

  ‘It was cold inside the prison,’ she said.

  Inside, Violet leaned back against the leather seat and took a deep breath. The touch of his hand remained a shudder through her.

  Adam took the seat opposite hers. His knees brushed her skirt as he settled back into his seat.

  He frowned. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Oh, yes!’ Violet took another breath. ‘It was emotional, seeing Arabella.’

  ‘Perhaps these will help.’ He passed her a large tin of Coombes Floral Creams.

  Violet stared at Adam in amazement.

  He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I wanted to find a way to say thank you.’

  Violet’s throat choked. ‘You don’t need to thank me.’

  He’d thrown some Coombes Violet Creams away, Arabella had told her.

  Because he missed her. Longed for her. As she had missed and longed for him.

  Adam exhaled. ‘Tell me. How did you find my sister?’

  ‘Surprisingly well,’ said Violet. She set aside the tin of chocolates. She couldn’t eat. Not now. Quickly she told him what had transpired between her and Arabella in the prison.

  Adam closed his eyes and put his head back against the seat for a long moment. ‘It’s unbelievable. She’s become a militant. Arabella.’

  ‘I blame myself.’ Violet confessed.

  Adam shook his head. ‘Arabella has made her choice.’

  ‘She has certainly taken up the suffragette gauntlet now.’ Violet hesitated. ‘I’m not sure I can follow so far in her footsteps. I realised that, when I saw her in the prison. There are some militant actions that go too far for me. But she has embraced it completely. She says she’s been treated as little more than a child. Never going away to school, or university.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that myself recently,’ Adam said to her surprise. ‘Arabella is intelligent. She’s always reading. It does seem unfair that she hasn’t had the same opportunities as I have enjoyed.’

  ‘So you do believe in women’s rights.’ Violet couldn’t help saying, with an edge in her voice.

  His jaw set like rock. ‘I’ve always supported women’s rights.’

  She lifted her chin. She had to know. ‘Then why did you tell me I couldn’t be a suffragette? You forbade it, as my husband.’

  He exhaled. ‘Damnation, Violet. Didn’t you realise? Seeing you in danger—it made me crazed. The thought of you being hurt, or worse. It was far too dangerous for you to be a suffragette. I felt I had to control the situation to keep you safe. After that night we spent together, I never wanted you to leave my arms.’

  ‘What?’ Violet’s hand flew to her heart. ‘But you said you regretted the terms of our marriage.’

  Adam scowled, then his face cleared. ‘The terms. Not our marriage. I never regretted marrying you. Not for a moment.’

  He seized her hands. His were strong, warm. ‘How could you believe I’d be glad you were gone? That I wouldn’t long to see your face, your forget-me-not-blue eyes? Your lips? To hear your plain speaking?’

  Her throat choked. ‘I thought you were sorry you married me.’

  ‘I never expected to feel the way I did,’ he admitted. ‘I thought I could avoid...’

  ‘Entanglements?’

  He gave a short laugh. ‘Indeed. I know now that I didn’t want to avoid entanglements with you.’ His eyes burned into hers so intently she flushed. ‘It was the kind of emotional scenes I witnessed in my childhood I didn’t want.’

  ‘I was entangled, too,’ she admitted. ‘I knew I couldn’t give up the Cause, but I couldn’t fight my feelings for you. I didn’t think it was possible to have both in my life.’

  ‘I didn’t make it easy for you. I realised that, when I found you gone.’ His jaw clenched. ‘If I loved you any less I could never have let you go. I loved you too much to force you to stay, if all you wanted was to be free.’

  ‘I never wanted to be free of you...’ She faltered.

  His teeth gritted. ‘Yet you left Beauley Manor without a goodbye.’

  ‘I thought it was the only way. And—I thought you didn’t love me.’

  He became still. ‘Ah.’

  ‘It was intolerable.’ Her voice turned to a whisper. Then she steadied herself. ‘How could I stay? I couldn’t bear you regretting our marriage. Looking at me over the breakfast table, dining with me in the evening. Lying beside me at night. Making love to me.’ She bit her lip. ‘All the while wishing you had never made our marriage of convenience.’

  ‘Violet.’ Adam pulled her into his arms. ‘The only inconvenience in our marriage is that we never realised how very convenient it was.’

  Adam’s mouth found hers, as though recognising her with his lips.

&nb
sp; Across the carriage they moved together, his body pressed into hers, his hands wrenching her closer as their lips found each other. Nothing mattered but his kiss, just then, and what he told her with his lips.

  He loved her.

  She loved him, too, she told him with her searching tongue, with something deeper than desire, more real, more powerful.

  When he finally pulled away she stared at him in wonder.

  ‘Violet.’ He held her close. ‘When you left, it was as if all the flowers in the garden had died. My senses failed me. Colours dimmed, I could barely taste food.’

  ‘Arabella said you threw some Coombes Floral Creams away,’ she said, as she nestled against him. ‘You never wanted to see them again.’

  ‘They made me think of you. Violet.’ With his finger he caressed her lips. ‘I believe I fell in love with you the moment you popped that violet cream in your mouth. You have the prettiest lips. They’re shaped like a bow.’

  His gaze made her flush. She felt the heat creep into her cheeks.

  ‘You changed so much when you came to Beauley Manor,’ he said. ‘Your beliefs. Your banners. Your speeches. You were a breath of fresh air. You brought the whole Beaufort family into a new way of thinking, a new life. Leaving the past behind.’

  He took a strand of her hair in his hand and wound it around his finger. ‘Your commitment, your passion—it captivated me right from the start.’

  Tears burnt her eyes. ‘So you do understand how I feel about the Cause.’

  ‘I always did.’ He grinned bleakly, sent the dent in his cheek darting. ‘But I didn’t expect to feel the way I do about you.’

  Adam reached into his waistcoat pocket.

  He held out a small blue leather box. ‘This is for you.’

  * * *

  Violet’s eyes widened as she took the box. With fingers that shook, she snapped open the lid. Inside, nestled on white silk, lay the ring he’d chosen for her, a tiny flower, the leaves made of emeralds, the petals amethyst and, at the centre, a white pearl.

  ‘It’s a flower,’ she said in wonderment. ‘A violet.’

  He’d bought it for her that day in London. He’d got the idea when he picked the last violet in the grounds of Beauley Manor, the day of the garden party.

  He’d kept the ring with him throughout their separation, like a talisman.

  Violet lifted the ring to the light. She stroked the jewels with a trembling finger as understanding dawned on her face.

  ‘When we went up to London together, while you were on your way to Downing Street, I was collecting this ring,’ he explained. ‘I had it made for you.’

  ‘The day you rescued me.’

  ‘I’m not sure who did the rescuing,’ he told her. ‘You rescued Beauley. My family. Me. You’ve opened my eyes. My mind. You’ve opened my heart.’

  ‘I thought it was my money you needed.’

  ‘It turns out I needed you.’

  He heard her stifle a sob.

  ‘I needed you, too,’ she whispered. ‘But I prize my independence.’

  ‘Your independence is what made such an impression on me. It’s what I adore about you. Along with your courage. Your bravery. Did I say it was when you ate that chocolate fondant that I fell in love with you? Let me amend that. I think it was when you fell from the balcony.’

  Violet laughed. ‘It was quite a fall.’

  ‘Indeed,’ he drawled.

  ‘Perhaps that may not have been the occasion,’ he corrected. ‘It may have been at our engagement. When you kissed me.’

  She bit her lip. His body responded instantly, but he held back from kissing her again. ‘Will you wear this ring? Will you marry me?’

  Tears sparkled in her eyes, turning them sapphire. ‘We’re already married.’

  ‘That was a marriage of convenience,’ he said. ‘I want to marry you for love.’

  For a moment she was silent. His heart drummed.

  ‘I’d marry you again,’ she replied at last in a voice that made the muscles of his heart contract. ‘For love.’

  Time stopped, swirled.

  ‘I’d give you the world, if I could,’ he said at last, when he could find words.

  She smiled. ‘I only want the vote.’

  ‘Will this do, for now?’ Taking her fingers in his, he slid the ring on to the fourth finger of her left hand, next to her gold band.

  Their fingers entangled.

  ‘You didn’t remove your wedding ring,’ he said huskily.

  She shook her head with resolve. ‘Never.’

  He cleared his throat.

  She smiled, a sweet, yet teasing, smile.

  She looked down at her fingers, then up at him. ‘This new ring is lovely. But it isn’t all I want.’

  * * *

  ‘What do you want, Violet?’

  She slid across the seat, at the same moment that Adam leaned into her, until there was no distance between them. She lifted her mouth close to his.

  ‘Are you hungry? Do you want a Floral Cream?’ he asked, with a half-smile that set her heart thudding.

  ‘While we were apart, I couldn’t face chocolate,’ she told him. ‘The scent made me ill. But now, I crave it.’

  ‘Then you must have a fondant.’ His eyes still fixed on her, with one hand he reached for the tin.

  Violet tugged him back on to the seat. It was her pregnancy that had made her unable to face chocolate. She would tell him, of course, but she wanted to set it right between them, first.

  ‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘I’m craving something else.’

  He glanced at his pocket watch. ‘We can make it back to Beauley in time for tea.’

  ‘I always hoped you would come to the solar for afternoon tea,’ she confessed. She’d been so happy whenever he opened the door.

  ‘Did you?’ His glance was a caress, as if on her bare skin. ‘I only came for you. But that wasn’t my favourite time of day.’

  ‘It wasn’t?’

  He shook his head. ‘I had ulterior motives.’

  Quizzical, she put her head to one side. ‘I don’t understand.’

  He leaned to whisper once more. ‘In our bedroom. I liked to watch you dress for dinner.’

  She swallowed hard. ‘But I kept the connecting door shut.’

  Had he been watching her, unawares?

  He grinned. ‘I didn’t spy on you, Violet, tempting though it was at times. I have more integrity than that. But when you were dressed in your evening gown, we often talked while you were at your dressing table. I used to think about what I’d do.’ He leaned in, his mouth hot against her skin. ‘To give you pleasure.’

  ‘I want you to show me,’ she whispered.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘... Duty loved of Love...’

  —Alfred, Lord Tennyson: ‘Love and Duty’ (1842)

  The gaslight gleamed. The fire in the grate flickered red, orange, yellow as Violet sat in front of the dressing table, reflected in the glass.

  Watching him, watching her.

  They had arrived at Beauley Manor in the carriage earlier that afternoon. She’d watched as the house rose up out of the misty autumn sky. The rose-red bricks glowed like fallen leaves in the late afternoon sunshine. As she had been when she first laid eye on it, on her wedding day, Violet had stared, spellbound.

  ‘I thought I’d never see it again,’ she’d told Adam.

  They’d both been quiet as the carriage rolled up the drive, crunching over the pebbles, towards the house.

  He’d gripped her hand as he helped her from the carriage, then lifted her into his arms. Her boots were transported off the ground as he swirled her into his arms.

  Her skirt flew. She’d laughed, holding on to her hat. ‘Adam!’

  ‘I presume you waltz?’ he’d asked teasingly,
as he’d asked her the first time they danced at the ball.

  ‘I’ve had lessons,’ she replied, as she had then.

  ‘Excellent,’ he murmured.

  Violet closed her eyes. In her mind she could almost hear the music of ‘The Blue Danube.’ Adam had whirled her across the pebbled drive. In his arms her feet glided over the stones as if she floated above them. His grip never wavered as he lifted her off the ground in another turn, before placing her on the pebbles.

  Now, Violet’s reflection in the mirror studied him as she held up a diamond-and-sapphire earring. ‘I’m wondering whether to wear these. What do you think?’

  Adam took the earring as if to hold it against to her ear. Instead he bent his head and caressed the base of her earlobe with his lips. Slowly, he began to make his way down her neck.

  He slid his hands over her curves. Leant between her breasts and breathed.

  ‘Violets.’

  She pointed at the bottle with its purple ribbon.

  He caressed beneath her ear with his tongue, his teeth. ‘You.’

  ‘Adam...’

  In the looking glass he watched her creamy skin turn to rose pink. Her lips parted in his name as with his lips he found the path deeper, between the crevice of her low-cut evening gown.

  With a tip of his finger he reached for the point of one of her breasts, caressing it beneath the cup of her bodice. Lifted it out of her corset into his mouth. Watched her gasp.

  He spun the velvet stool, swung her to face him. Took those pink tips again in his mouth. She twisted, leant backwards and arched into the curved wood of the dressing table, sending the crystal tinkling as she half-fell against it. He knew how to please her now, to find the place on her skin that would bring her pleasure. But he wanted to give her more.

  He still held the earring in his fist. Dropping the jewel on to the dressing table, it fell with a tinkle against the crystal.

  In a swoop he took her around the waist, lifted her higher on the stool. With one hand he found the frilled edge of her fashionable underwear. Toyed inside the edge for a moment, saw her tense.

  Lifting her higher, he slid the silk garment away, over her stockinged legs. Tossed them aside, on to the wooden floor, where they fell in a rumpled heap.