Read Online Suffragette in the City by Katie MacAlister - Free Book Online Page B

intersection. Indicating it, I grabbed the spoiled coat in one hand, Helena’s arm in another, and pulled her towards it.
    Her tears had stopped by the time we were settled in the cab, although she was still sniffling in an unladylike manner. I pointed this out to her, and waited until she had composed herself. “Did you see the thug who attacked us, Helena?”
    “It was so quick, I didn’t see him at all.”
    “Oh, dear. I didn’t see him either, I was too busy seeing stars from my collision with the lamppost. All I saw was his shadow, but I did think his voice was quite rough and common.”
    “Oh, Cassandra,” she gasped, turning to me with concern. “Were you injured?”
    “Just my pride,” I said grimly. “I shall ring the police from home and report the attack.”
    Helena looked scared and turned pale, her cold hand gripping mine with surprising strength.
    “Don’t worry, I won’t mention your name.” The grip relaxed. “The last thing I want is for your family to find out you were attacked because I wished to walk home rather than take a cab. We will drop you off first, then I will go home and telephone the authorities.”
    Helena was very quiet during the ride to her brother’s house, and a quick peek at her strained, white face told me she was nervous about her reception.
    “Your family is away this evening, you said?” I asked cautiously.
    “Yes, they are at the Edward Smythe’s tonight.”  She had found one of my best Irish linen handkerchiefs in my coat pocket, and unconsciously twisted it into a knot.
    “Good. You should be able to smuggle your coat in and have your maid attend to it before they return home.”  The coat currently resided on the outer seat next to the cabby. “You might tell her that you slipped and fell.”
    Helena surprised me by bursting into laughter. “I certainly won’t tell her I was assaulted by a strange man as I walked home from a secret suffrage meeting, when I was supposed to be in bed with a headache.”
    There is nothing more infectious than laughter at an inappropriate time, and before long the cab pulled up outside Lord Sherringham’s house in Balmour Street with the pair of us mopping our streaming eyes, trying to control our outbursts.
    We were still giggling like schoolgirls when, telling the cabby to wait, I accompanied her and her coat to the door. Hushing both of us to be quiet, she let herself in with a latchkey and waved me across the threshold.
    “Let me take the coat directly to Mariah,” she said quietly.
    I held the repulsive garment out to her at arm’s length. We looked at it in disbelief for a moment, then catching each other’s eyes, dissolved once more into a silly display.
    “Really,” I gasped through the tears of hilarity, “it is a horrible thing to behold.”
    Helena clutched her sides, not doing any better than me at retaining control. She pointed at the coat, and opened her mouth to make a further comment. Looking past me, her face suddenly froze. The transformation was so quick, the expression on her face so awful that I stopped laughing and looked over my shoulder to see what grisly sight had such a terrible effect on her.
    Lady Sherringham came out of a nearby door. Swift on her heels was the stout, bald man I remembered from the scene outside of the Hospital Ball. Across the hall, another door opened and the tall figure that had taken to haunting my thoughts stepped out.
    I closed my mouth, and with a swift move scooped up the coat from where it had fallen and turned to stand in front of Helena. She gripped my arm from behind, her hand shaking as she moved to my side.
    “Helena, my dear sister. How is it you come to be here and not in your bed?” her sister-in-law inquired in an acid tone, looking not at Helena, but at me. “We rushed home to tend you, and now we find that you are not in bed, but instead sneaking into our home in the company of this… this woman !”
    Before I could think up a reasonable