Page 104 of The Rogue’s Embrace

Rupert took Cece home to Marlowe House so that she could change out of her soiled dress, then dashed over to Campbell House so that he could peel off his dirty cricket clothes, bathe, dress in something appropriate to the grave situation, then run back to Marlowe House. The sun was beginning to set by the time he climbed the stairs to his mother's front door two at a time and burst through into the front hall.

"What are you doing back here so soon?"

Cece asked, her eyes going wide at the site of him. She'd dressed in a deep purple gown that hinted at mourning and had pinned a fresh flower to match on her breast. Her face was pale and drawn, though, and tension had her shoulders bunched. She was still the most beautiful woman Rupert had ever seen.

"I'm going with you,"

he told her. "To Lady Tavistock's house."

Cece gaped at him for another long moment before shaking her head and marching past him out the door. "You can't. The May Flowers is a women's club. You aren't invited to take part in our discussions."

"Maybe not,"

Rupert said, following after her and catching up to her side as they hit the pavement in front of the house, "but I need to be there for you all the same. I need to be there for all of you."

Cece paused at the corner, turning to study him as they waited for a pair of carriages to pass, no doubt carrying the rich and careless on to some splashy event where they could forget their troubles, forget all troubles. She seemed decades older than the darling young woman he'd left behind when he enlisted. She carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, but she carried it capably. The sight was humbling, and Rupert's heart thudded in his chest at the possibility that he might be able to be a champion to the beautiful, powerful woman beside him and her partner in all things for the rest of his life, if he played his cards right.

The carriages passed, and the two of them crossed the street and continued on.

"I don't know what will happen this evening,"

she said as they hurried along the street, dodging a young maid on some sort of errand. "I feel as though something momentous will come out of this meeting, but I'm not sure it will be good."

"Whatever it is, I will support you in whatever step you choose to take because of it," he said.

They turned a corner, stepping out of the way of a lamplighter going about his work, and Cece glanced to him with a smile. It was an anxious smile, though, and she didn't have anything to say afterwards.

Tavistock House was close enough that they arrived in good time. It was a blessing that they walked, because a line of carriages was jostling for the best spots to drop off the ladies of the May Flowers. Those ladies were in agitated spirits the moment they stepped down and immediately began chattering to their friends and asking questions. The effect was like carts full of hens crashing together in the market, causing a jumble of noise and feathers and blocked in carriages.

"Do you know what this is all about?"

Lady Diana rushed forward to greet Cece with the question.

"It must be about what happened at Lord's this afternoon,"

Lady Beatrice hurried up beside her, taking Cece's hand, her face pinched with worry. "Do you know how Lord O'Shea is?"

she asked tremulously.

Cece tried to answer, but tears shone in her eyes and she swallowed. She turned to Rupert, who answered, "He survived the initial attack. We are still waiting to hear if the doctor was able to repair his internal injuries."

It was the best answer he could give.

"We've all been praying for him,"

Lady Beatrice said, turning to nod at a pale-faced group of ladies who had been at Lord's.

Their fluttering was cut short as a large carriage with the Denbigh crest pushed its way to the front of the line. A boy hopped down from the back and rushed to open the door. Rupert, Cece, and the ladies clustered around them watched with bated breath as Lady Claudia stepped down, a pair of friends behind her. She was dressed in a festive shade of yellow, her gown of the latest fashion and far too exuberant for the occasion. Most telling of all, though, was that neither Lady Claudia nor her friends wore the purple flower that the rest of the May Flowers wore.

"This cannot be a good sign,"

Lady Diana said, pressing a hand to her chest.

Lady Claudia shifted slightly to glance in Rupert's direction. She gave him a dismissive look, then glared outright at Cece. Once that message was communicated, she stood stiffer, tilted her chin up, and marched forward and up the stairs into Tavistock House, her friends flanking her.

The energy of the milling crowd of ladies shifted, and they all rushed to follow Lady Claudia into the house. Rupert knew full well that he wasn't invited or allowed, but he marched on at Cece's side all the same. The fact that she didn't try to stop him was a dead giveaway of just how serious the situation was.

A team of servants were waiting in the hall to take the ladies' hats and coats. Rupert managed to slip past them while the ensemble was distracted. He followed the din of voices down the hall and into what was very possibly the grandest sitting room he'd ever seen. Every inch of it was feminine to the core, with sprays of flowers on the wallpaper, vases of flowers placed between windows curtained with pink damask silk, and an array of chairs and sofas that were proportioned for a lady's form. He managed to station himself near the door, beside a concealing potted plant, and to stand as still as possible in the hope that no one would notice him.

His efforts weren't entirely successful, though. Lady Tavistock stood at the front of the room, issuing orders to her staff and friends alike. She was dressed as somberly as Cece and wore her hair in a simple style, far different from the ostentatious way she presented herself to the world. She spotted Rupert at the back of the room right away. Their eyes met, but rather than launching into action to have him thrown out, all she did was nod once before going back to her orders.

It was as close as Rupert was going to get to permission to witness the meeting. He slipped farther behind the plant, loath to upset any of the women by his presence. His concealment was good enough that when Cece swept into the room with Lady Diana and Lady Beatrice by her side, she didn't notice him.

"Ladies, if you would please come to order,"

Lady Tavistock called from the front of the room.

A dull thunder of ladies taking their seats, or, in the case of Cece, marching to the front of the room to stand near Lady Tavistock's side, followed. Once all the ladies were facing in the opposite direction, Rupert stepped out of his hiding place. A few in the back spotted him, but they were too distracted to do more than blink at him in wonder.

"I've called you all here this evening, taking you away from your balls and soirees, because a terrible thing happened today. Lord Fergus O'Shea was attacked at Lord's Cricket Grounds this afternoon while taking part in a match that the May Flowers were involved in."

A chorus of murmurs rose from the ladies, most of them shocked and dismayed, but some of them far less kind.

"Furthermore,"

Lady Tavistock went on, "and sadly, we have reason to believe that some of our own numbers were involved in this cruel and brutal attack."

Her voice cracked as she spoke.

"How dare you?"

Lady Claudia exclaimed, jumping to her feet and putting a stop to any show of tenderness on Lady Tavistock's part. "How dare you make such wicked accusations?"

Rage clenched Rupert's gut for a moment before he could breathe through it. Did Lady Claudia have no sense at all that she accused herself with her words?

"This is outrageous slander and I will not stand for it,"

Lady Claudia went on, proving that no, she didn't.

It seemed that the rest of the May Flowers were in no mood to pretend either.

"You were suspiciously absent from the cricket match,"

Lady Diana said. Several of the ladies who had been there nodded and hummed in confirmation.

"I simply could not be bothered to attend,"

Lady Claudia said, her nose in the air. "No lady worth her salt would have been caught dead larking about in the presence of rough men and undesirable sorts."

Her friends made sounds of agreement. Rupert was surprised to find that she had so many of them. In fact, the entire room seemed to be separated into halves—those who supported Lady Claudia and those who supported Lady Tavistock.

"Lord's is one of the premier cricket clubs in London,"

Cece said, stepping forward and narrowing her eyes at Lady Claudia. "Nearly all of the gentlemen present were of the titled class, and those who weren't are highly respected gentlemen."

Rupert wondered if the likes of Lady Claudia would feel that way about Jack Craig. As far as he was concerned, Jack was the very best of men for going out of his way to catch the men who had hurt Fergus and attempting to prove that Denbigh was involved.

Lady Claudia scoffed at Cece's statement. "I shouldn't be surprised that a woman of such low character as you would call the dregs who were involved in that farce of a match gentlemen."

A few of the ladies gasped at the audacity of the statement. Cece stood her ground, her back straight and her expression implacable.

"Every one of us knows the true message of today's attack,"

she said, taking over the position of authority from Lady Tavistock. "This was a crime of hate and nothing else. Hatred against the Irish. But that hatred is not only misplaced and shameful, it is directly counter to the mission of the May Flowers."

Lady Claudia laughed dismissively. "The mission of the May Flowers is to advance our political causes with the men in our lives who have the power to mold and shape this country. It is a disgrace that any of us should so much as think of supporting those brutish and ignorant Irishmen in any way. They are nothing better than peasants, and all of them should be treated as such."

A flurry of comments and exclamations rose up, both in favor of the Irish and against them, throughout the room. Cece said something to Lady Claudia, but the din was too much for Rupert to hear until the ladies realized the debate was ongoing and quieted themselves.

"…disgrace that such ignorant opinions should be associated with our noble cause at all,"

Cece finished.

"Disgrace?"

Lady Claudia's brow shot up and a look of sharp offense painted her sour face. "The disgrace is the way your lot have torn an otherwise peaceful and productive organization, such as ours, asunder. The disgrace is how you and your ridiculous insistence on Irish Home Rule will tear the entire Liberal Party apart. If we truly want to have the political influence we claim to long for, we need to thrust aside this feckless and ill-advised insistence on any rights at all for the Irish and stick determinedly to the Unionist cause."

Another rush of sound from the assembled ladies gave Rupert the sense that the May Flowers were so much like Parliament in their form of debate that there was virtually no difference. The women had gravitated to their own sides of the room and hurled insults at each other as vehemently as any elected minister or lord did in their own chamber. It filled him with an incongruous sense of pride and confidence in them and their ability to grasp the issues that formed the bedrock of political debate in England. With that pride came the startling thought that perhaps women should be admitted into positions of public power after all. They certainly knew how to debate those issues.

"If this organization or the Liberal Party has been damaged at all,"

Cece continued the debate, "it is because callous prejudice has outweighed moral rightness and progress. I refuse to stand by any longer and listen to an entire nation be denigrated by ignorance and small-mindedness. The Irish are as capable of ruling themselves and thriving as a nation as any people. We, as women, should be supporting their efforts as they reflect our own. Any class of people that works to suppress a group of men based on their nationality will most assuredly work to stifle the voices of women. We have gained much in recent history, but we have so far to go. Women are permitted to attend university, but not to sit exams or be granted a degree. We may attend medical school and become doctors, but we may not practice in any hospital or on Harley Street. We gained the right to maintain control of our property upon entering marriage, but we are still nothing but glorified children without a husband. If the May Flowers are to have any chance of changing these circumstances going forward, we must support the rights of all people, Irish, working class, and even the people of the nations far and wide that we have colonized. Their future is our future."

Cece's speech was met by a moment of stunned silence. Even those sitting on her side of the room gaped at her, as though she'd told them all they should run around naked in public. Indeed, her views were some of the most radical Rupert had ever heard, but he had never been so proud of her in his life. He couldn't help but applaud her words, even though it drew attention and was likely to end in him being thrown out.

But rather than sending every eye in the room toward him, his applause was joined by that of a good portion of the other women in the room. The applause grew and swelled, filling the room with noise and Rupert's heart with inspiration. Suddenly, he understood. This was the woman he loved. She demanded respect and power, not for herself, but to serve and protect her home and her empire. Her goals were the same as his, but this was the army she needed to join and this was the battle she was born to fight.

"This is an outrage,"

Lady Claudia screamed over the applause, effectively silencing it. "Have you all lost your minds? This is not how English womankind should identify ourselves. We are and always have been the moral underpinnings of society, quietly working for the elevation of hearts and minds and advocating for the proper order, established by God. We are not a bunch of slathering revolutionaries."

"Perhaps we should be,"

Lady Beatrice shouted.

She was met by cheers of "Hear, hear,"

from the ladies on her side of the room and outraged gasps from the others.

"I refuse to continue to be a part of an organization that has become a walking, breathing scandal,"

Lady Claudia roared on. "If this is what the May Flowers has become, then I want no part of it."

"No one is keeping you here,"

Lady Tavistock said, looking like a general or an avenging angel. "Membership in this organization is certainly not mandatory."

"Are you saying you want to banish me, then?"

Lady Claudia squeaked, a picture of fury.

"I believe you are saying that you no longer wish to be associated with us,"

Cece said.

"I do not,"

Lady Claudia snapped. She stood where she was for a moment, glaring at Cece and Lady Tavistock. A prickly silence filled the room. It was as though Lady Claudia and her friends were waiting to either be dismissed outright or for someone to beg them to stay. Neither happened, and so Lady Claudia huffed and jerked her chin up. "I see how it is, then,"

she said. "I hereby resign from the May Flowers."

She turned to her side of the room. "And I suggest that any of you who wish to avoid scandal and ignominy, any of you who wish to truly uphold the values of English femininity, resign as well."

She waited for only a second before turning her back on Cece and Lady Tavistock and marching through the aisle between chairs toward the door. The two friends who had come in with her did the same, then nearly half of the rest of the ladies stood and followed as well.

As she reached the back of the room, Lady Claudia spotted Rupert. She sent him a look of such loathing that it was hard for Rupert to believe that less than a week ago, she had been flirting with him. He couldn't let the moment pass.

"Have a care, Lady Claudia,"

he said in a quiet voice. "Your brother will be held responsible for today's attack."

Lady Claudia blanched, but said nothing. She picked up her pace, leading the mass exodus from the room.

The gaping hole left by Lady Claudia and her supporters was instantly filled with noise and anxious chatter as the rest of the ladies stood and spread out, mingling with each other. Rupert stayed where he was, still reluctant to interfere in Cece's affairs, but as soon as she spotted him, she leaned close to Lady Tavistock and said something. A moment later, the two women pushed their way through the roiling crowd of their supporters to meet Rupert at the back of the room.

"She's not wrong,"

Rupert said as they reached him.

"I beg your pardon?"

Cece asked, blinking and looking offended.

"About the split in the Liberal Party,"

he went on, speaking as he would to any of his male friends. Cece's offense vanished, and determination took its place. "The Liberal Party is on the verge of fracturing, thanks to this very issue."

"This is the defining moment of our times,"

Cece agreed. "We must meet the challenge with strength."

"There is strength in numbers,"

Lady Tavistock said, glancing anxiously over her shoulder at the greatly depleted May Flowers. "I wasn't expecting half of our members to walk out."

"It doesn't matter if they have,"

Cece told her. "We are firm in our mission, and if each of us has to work harder to accomplish it, then so be it."

"Perhaps you could rally more women to your cause,"

Rupert suggested. "I'm quite certain there are a wealth of women in London who share your views and who would be willing to stand up for them. Women that, perhaps, were held back before because of the likes of Lady Claudia."

"Do you mean non-aristocratic women?"

Lady Tavistock asked, inspiration lighting her eyes.

Rupert shrugged. "And my sisters."

Lady Tavistock smiled. A moment later, Cece smiled as well. "Bianca would be just the rabble-rouser we need,"

she said, nearly laughing.

"But are we ready for her?"

Lady Tavistock asked.

"No one is ever quite ready for Bianca,"

Rupert said.

Lady Tavistock let out a wry laugh, then turned to Cece. "I cannot do this alone. I need a first mate to help steer the ship."

Cece's face lit up. "I would be honored to lead the May Flowers along with you."

"Thank you."

Lady Tavistock reached for her hand and squeezed it. Some of her certainty vanished as she turned to Rupert. "Have you heard anything further about Lord O'Shea?"

Rupert's heart sank and he shook his head. "Not as of yet. But we will let you know as soon as we hear anything."

He glanced to Cece for confirmation, and she nodded.

The room was already emptying. Lady Tavistock turned to survey her remaining guests before saying, "I have so much to attend to. Thank you for coming, my dear, and thank you for standing by my side."

"It is an honor,"

Cece replied.

The two women embraced, then Lady Tavistock headed into the cluster of ladies that remained to reassure them that all would be well.

Cece turned to Rupert. "So now you know exactly what sort of a radical I am."

Rupert couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I do."

He offered his arm to her.

Cece took it and they started out of the room. "I suppose you're going to drag me home and lecture me about how I should have more propriety and be less outspoken."

Rupert hummed, pretending to think the matter over as they walked through the hall, and then out into the street after one of the maids handed Cece her hat and gloves. "No, that wasn't what I was thinking I wanted to do with you."

"Oh?"

Cece asked, genuinely surprised. "What then?"

Rupert didn't answer. He grinned as mysteriously as he could and whisked Cece down the swiftly darkening street.

"Rupert,"

she said in a teasing voice. "We're going the wrong way."

"No we aren't,"

he said. "For the first time in a long time, we're going exactly where we should."