A Rebel at Pennington’s

by Rachel Brimble

  ‘Lawrence?’

  He blinked and met Cornelia’s concerned gaze. ‘Yes?’

  ‘What are you thinking about?’

  ‘Nothing.’ He forced a smile. ‘Let me tell you about Esther.’

  She returned his smile and took her seat beside him, her gaze expectant. ‘Well?’

  ‘She works as a window dresser at Pennington’s. She—’

  ‘Pennington’s? She’s responsible for their astounding window displays?’ Something indiscernible appeared in her eyes. ‘Has she been employed there long? I imagine it’s a wonderful place to work.’

  Lawrence studied her. Was she considering approaching Pennington’s for employment? He could certainly think of worse places for her to work. ‘She’s worked there for a number of years and is very happy.’ Pride twisted inside him. ‘She has quite the talent, doesn’t she?’

  ‘And ambition and flair…’ Cornelia beamed, her gaze filled with admiration. ‘And quite an insight for the future. I couldn’t take my eyes off the displays when I was at the store a few days ago. I can’t imagine what she has planned for the Coronation.’

  ‘It’s all very top secret. She’s shared nothing of her designs with me. The buzz of the Coronation continues to escalate, so I’m happy you’re here. I would have hated you and the boys to miss the procession the city will be hosting.’

  ‘A procession? Oh, the boys will love that. And Esther likes working at Pennington’s? She’s happy there?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘And her other interests?’

  ‘Women’s suffrage. It’s her passion and one I think will never lessen until women are rightfully given the vote.’

  ‘Hear, hear.’ Cornelia gave a curt nod before her eyes glazed, seemingly to look straight through Lawrence.

  ‘Cornelia?’

  A faint blush coloured her cheeks and she grinned. ‘Oh, Lawrence, I can hardly wait to meet her. Will we dine here?’

  ‘I thought so, yes.’

  ‘With the children?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That will be wonderful. I’m so happy she’s fond of Rose and Nathanial.’ She leapt to her feet and gathered their napkins. ‘The idea of them having a kind and ambitious mother so different than our own is most exciting.’

  She walked to the sideboard and put their napkins on top of the plates before picking them up and walking to the open dining room door. She threw him a smile over her shoulder and entered the hallway, disappearing in the direction of the stairs.

  Lawrence drained his coffee cup. A kind and ambitious mother? Cornelia had just leapt several months, if not years, ahead. Usually, he’d find that kind of throwaway comment from his sister amusing, but instead, it turned his mind to the possibility of he and Esther one day marrying. He smiled. Nothing would make him happier.

  Thirty-Two

  At just before six o’clock the following evening, Esther stood a little taller as Lawrence approached her across the courtyard in front of the Abbey. His handsome face shone above a moving sea of bodies, his gaze on hers. Her stomach emitted a loop-the-loop as he neared, her hands turning clammy inside her gloves. Was she in the first throes of love? If yes, she prayed this feeling lasted for the rest of her life.

  He stopped in front of her and took her hand, pressing a kiss to her gloved knuckles. ‘You look lovely.’

  She smiled. ‘Thank you. How are you?’

  ‘Surprisingly nervous.’ He released her hand and glanced around the bustling courtyard. ‘I’ve no idea what to expect when I meet your associates.’

  She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, tugging him gently forward. ‘There are a few you might need to charm with your knowledge of the suffrage bill, but I’m sure most will wholeheartedly welcome you. The only person you really need to be made aware of is Cecilia Reed.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘The woman is a force of nature when she’s in the mood. Sometimes, I wonder why she’s part of the group, at all.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  Esther lifted her shoulders. ‘I just get the feeling she’s not always entirely behind our endeavours. As though she’s merely keeping watch. Throwing in negative comments and generally undermining anything positive members might put forward.’ She sighed. ‘I’ve voiced my suspicions to Louise, my closest friend in the Society, but she thinks my reservations unnecessary.’

  ‘Well, I hope my presence doesn’t upset this woman. The last thing I want is to make things harder for you. Are you quite sure you want me here?’

  ‘Positive.’ Esther smiled. It was wonderful to have him beside her both in a suffrage capacity and personally. Her qualms they might not have a future together declined each and every time they were together. ‘I’m so looking forward to introducing you to Louise and her husband.’

  ‘So, there will be at least one other man joining us?’

  ‘Oh, yes. More than one. In fact, I’m surprised with you being a member of the Men’s League that I haven’t seen you at a rally before.’

  ‘I’ve always taken a behind-the-scenes role in the past. Now I’ve met you, everything’s changed.’

  Esther smiled, her heart giving a little kick of pleasure.

  They walked past row upon row of shops and houses that lined the main streets of the city centre before entering a darkened alleyway where the Society often met before a rally. Esther drew her hand from Lawrence’s arm and knocked out the top-secret code on the door.

  Standing back, she glanced at him as he stared resolutely at the door.

  Footsteps sounded and then the door opened.

  Louise grinned. ‘Esther! It’s lovely to see you and…’ She paused, a flash of surprise passing through her pretty dark eyes. ‘And Mr Culford. Welcome.’

  Esther stilled. Louise knew Lawrence?

  Lawrence shook her hand. ‘Have we met?’

  Louise blushed. ‘No, but I know you own The Phoenix hotel and have heard sentiments that you are a kind, fair and generous member of the Men’s League.’

  Lawrence smiled. ‘Well, that’s very nice of you. Thank you.’

  ‘Come in, both of you.’

  Esther stepped inside ahead of Lawrence, confident her decision to invite him today had been the right one. She felt immensely proud to have him beside her. They walked to the stairs and Louise led them to the second floor.

  ‘Everyone’s here, so I’ll make the introductions and then we’ll head to Laura Place.’

  Esther turned to Lawrence. ‘We’ve decided to demonstrate there again as we catch the attention of a lot of people coming in and out of town.’

  ‘And who will be making the address?’

  Esther inhaled a deep breath. ‘Me. It’s my very first time, but I can hardly wait. I am a little nervous but, with you here I know I can do this.’

  He pressed a kiss to her cheek. ‘Of course, you can.’

  Louise opened a door to a cacophony of female and male voices, laughter and clinking china. The moment Esther’s gaze landed on Cecilia’s, protectiveness for Lawrence stole through her. The older woman narrowed her eyes as she blatantly assessed Lawrence, her mouth pinched into a thin line.

  Determined to deflect any negativity, Esther clasped Lawrence’s elbow and drew him to the centre of the room, flashing Amelia a quick smile where she sat at the back of the room, her hands tightly clasped in her lap and her eyes wide with expectation. She was clearly apprehensive but excited too for what would be her first rally.

  Turning, Esther caught Louise’s eye and nodded, silently indicating to her friend that she would like to address the group.

  Louise returned her nod and clapped. ‘Everyone, quiet down, please. We’ll be leaving shortly, but first Esther would like to introduce a new friend to the Society. Esther?’

  ‘Thank you.’ Esther purposely kept her gaze on Cecilia’s. If she could coax her into accepting Lawrence, she was quite sure there wouldn’t be any worse naysayers. She had every intention of keeping a closer eye on Cecilia. Th
ere was something amiss about her and, sooner or later, Esther was determined to get to the bottom of it.

  She raised her voice and spoke firmly. ‘This is my good friend, Lawrence Culford. He’s already a member of the Men’s League but is joining us this evening for his very first suffragist rally. Lawrence is a long-time supporter of the Cause and agrees it is time for men and women to show solidarity and unity to the government.’ She glanced at him and smiled, before facing the gathering once more. ‘I’m sure you’ll all make Lawrence welcome and help him to learn more about our objectives, methods and practices.’

  A swift applause broke out as men and many of the women came forward, their hands outstretched to welcome Lawrence. She moved to the side and looked at Cecilia who remained seated.

  The woman scowled, her cold gaze on Esther’s before she gave a curt nod and stood.

  Esther released her held breath. It was the closest she could expect to an acquiescence, for the time being, at least.

  Once Lawrence had shook hands with as many people as possible, the members gathered up their placards, pamphlets and banners. As they headed from the room and down the stairs into the street, Esther’s confidence was buoyed by Lawrence’s confident authority.

  They soon emerged onto Laura Place along with the crowd who had gathered and followed them across Pulteney Bridge.

  Esther studied the various faces for any signs of hostility, relief lowering her tense shoulders when she only saw expressions of interest or encouragement. The right for women to vote had steadily gathered supporters and members over the last twelve months and the atmosphere this evening held a simmering fever that was inspiring and intoxicating.

  They congregated in front of the stone fountain in the centre of Laura Place and Esther laid the crate she carried on the cobblestones. Lawrence tipped her a wink and took his place behind her along with the other Society members.

  Esther smoothed her skirt and pulled back her shoulders, battling the surge of nerves that took flight in her stomach. She stared at the people around them, revelling in the spectrum of high and low-class spectators, some dressed finely, others in ragged clothes and dirty, flattened hats. It cheered her to see them standing side by side, barely moving aside when horses, carriages and the occasional motorcar beeped its way around them.

  With the sun shining brightly against a clear blue sky, a welcome breeze keeping the temperatures bearable, it was plain to see that these people wanted to be here for what promised to be a successful demonstration. Esther breathed deep hoping this evening would garner more support and, hopefully, more members.

  The chattering quieted as the audience formed a semicircle in front of her. Esther looked to her side where Louise stood brandishing a huge placard bearing the words ‘Women Demand The Vote – We Will Wait No More.’

  Esther nodded at her friend and turned to the crowd.

  ‘We stand before you today as a united group of men and women determined to make the Government see women’s suffrage is no longer something that people want to happen, but will happen.’

  A smattering of applause sounded along with shouts of ‘hear, hear!’ and ‘Yes, it will!’

  ‘We are a suffragist group doing our utmost to hold peaceful campaigns. We write to Members of Parliament and our letters are ignored. How will our country ever prosper and grow under such blatant disregard for the voices of its people? Women are not the enemy but often the very people who keep our homes running, our children cared for and loved. Women are working in our shops, restaurants, factories and domestic service. How can we not have a view, opinion and passion for our workplaces, welfare and health services? We deserve a voice at the next election. We will continue in our endeavours, side by side with our husbands, friends and families. We will win!’

  Rapturous applause thundered from the crowd and Esther lifted her banner high, her heart racing with euphoria as she started chanting. ‘We will win!’

  Joining their voices with hers, her associates walked forward and thrust pamphlets into outstretched hands. The atmosphere was vehement with support. Women, young and old, cheered and waved, their expressions full of belief and tenacity. The tide was turning. The people had spoken and, one day soon, government would have no choice but to listen.

  Esther glanced at the Coronation banners strung overhead between the black Victorian lamp posts either side of the street. They advertised the imminent events, stalls and games that would be displayed in Victoria Park and Pulteney Gardens on the day of the Coronation. The excitement of a new era loomed. There could be no doubt a definitive change was in the air.

  She stepped from the crate and Lawrence immediately took her hand. He squeezed her fingers, his beautiful blue eyes gleaming with admiration. ‘You were magnificent.’

  ‘Thank you, but we still have so far to go.’ She dragged her gaze from his to look around her. ‘The spectators and support are growing, but still we get no further forward.’

  ‘We will. You have to keep faith.’

  Esther faced him, her earlier euphoria wavering. ‘Sometimes I am so tempted to take drastic action. Do something like the suffragettes are doing. Those women aren’t monsters, Lawrence. They’re women who have reached the end of their patience.’

  ‘I agree, but violence is not the answer and never will be.’

  Esther studied his face, fearful of the anger swirling through her. Her tenacity for the vote, for a voice, sometimes consumed her to dangerous levels and it took every ounce of her strength to calm herself. Lawrence was right, violence wasn’t the answer, but she could not accept more radical action was not needed.

  ‘Esther?’

  She blinked and forced a smile. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Would you have dinner with me tomorrow evening? I’d love for my sister and nephews to meet you.’

  Her mouth dried, the noise around them fading. ‘You want me to meet your family?’

  ‘Yes.’ His gaze softened as it grazed over her hair, then lower to her lips. ‘Very much so.’

  How was she to resist the tenderness in his eyes, the soft request on his tongue? She inhaled a shaky breath, slowly released it. ‘Then I’d love to.’

  ‘Good.’ He lifted his gaze from hers and looked around the crowded area around them. ‘But first we have people to talk to and recruit, do we not?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, we do.’

  Esther entered the fray with Lawrence at her side, suddenly feeling that maybe the breakthrough the Society wanted would happen soon… and she hoped Lawrence would be beside her to witness it.

  Thirty-Three

  The following evening, Esther snapped on her gloves as annoyance and trepidation whirled through her. Her aunt had not refrained from peeking through the parlour’s net curtain looking for Lawrence’s carriage for the last quarter of an hour. She really hoped it had not been a mistake deciding to tell Aunt Mary of her growing relationship with Lawrence. Esther had been finding it increasingly difficult to keep her happiness hidden and knew, before long, her aunt would guess something had changed in her niece’s life.

  Accepting Lawrence’s offer of his personal transportation had been utilised to impress and, hopefully, appease her aunt. Although even Esther had to admit there had been a positive, if slight, shift in her aunt’s attitude as the Coronation loomed. As a staunch royalist, Aunt Mary was in jitters of excitement over the upcoming events and that, in turn, had benefited Esther, due to her involvement in Pennington’s Coronation window. An avid shopper at the store, her aunt was often astounded by the interior and had slowly begun to accept Esther played a big part in its execution.

  Maybe, now, she could also hope for Aunt Mary’s blessing to pursue a possible courtship with Lawrence… even if she’d never surrender to her aunt’s snobbishness or her constant association with Violet.

  She pressed her hand to the jumble of nerves in her stomach. The prospect of meeting Lawrence’s sister and her children was far more disconcerting than anything else that might bother her.

&nbs
p; ‘Ooh, I say, this must be Mr Culford’s carriage now. Yes, yes, it is. It’s slowing to a stop.’ Her aunt leapt away from the window and rushed to Esther, gripping her hands. She grinned, her eyes shining so brightly, ten years immediately vanished from her features. ‘You have a lovely time, my dear. I’ll wait up for you.’

  ‘There’s really no need to—’

  ‘Nonsense. Nonsense. Now, don’t keep the gentleman waiting.’

  Esther opened her mouth to chastise her aunt’s obvious social climbing but snapped her mouth closed. To say anything about Aunt Mary’s misplaced rapture would only damage their fragile amicability.

  She kissed her aunt’s cheek. ‘I won’t be late.’

  ‘Oh, my dear,’ Aunt Mary laughed, pulling Esther into the hallway and towards the front door. ‘Take all the time you need.’

  Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Esther exited the house and climbed into the carriage. The driver touched the brim of his hat to Esther and then Aunt Mary, who waved from the doorstep. Once Esther was settled inside, the carriage door closed with an expensive thud and the driver climbed aboard, emitting a sharp whistle to set off the single piebald horse.

  Esther leaned back and gripped her purse.

  The city passed by the windows. The evening was clear and warm as women strolled by beneath their decorative parasols, arm in arm with their beaux or husbands, all of whom were smartly dressed in dinner jackets and top hats. Bath was a riot of colour in the wealthier areas and a sea of brown and grey in the slums, but as the carriage passed the Abbey and through the winding streets lined with shops and restaurants, Esther couldn’t imagine ever wanting to live anywhere else.