‘Edmund, my love, I’m begging you!’
She sank to her knees. By now the volume of her voice had risen considerably over the usual careful whisper she used for her secret rendezvous in the garden. I threw an anxious glance back at the house, but so far, nobody seemed to have heard.
‘I’m begging you, please, come back! You can’t do this, please!’
Still he did not stop. If I’d had a rock of the right size to hand, I’d have lobbed it at his silly receding head. Nobody made my sister cry like that! But simultaneously, another part of me wanted to hug him fiercely. He was willing to risk his own life to free my sister from a marriage she feared and despised. I couldn’t help respecting anybody who was ready to do that, even if I did want to throw rocks at his head.
‘Please, Edmund,’ Ella tried once more. ‘By your love for me, I beg you, stop! Don’t go! Don’t die!’
When this final attempt failed, she slumped to the ground and knelt there, weeping, her face hidden in her hands.
‘All right!’ she whimpered. ‘I accept! I will… I will do it.’
Edmund, just about to reach the back door of his parents’ house, froze in place.
‘What?’ he asked, without turning. His voice was barely audible. ‘What did you say?’
‘I… I said, I’ll do it,’ repeated Ella, taking deep breaths as though she had run miles and miles. ‘I accept your offer, Edmund Conway. For you, to save your life and give you happiness, I shall forsake my family. I will run away with you. May God forgive me.’
~~*~~*
I sat behind the bush for quite some time. I suppose it had to be quite some time, because when I wandered back into the house, everybody was already asleep. Even Ella, up in our room, had stopped crying by now, though I could still see the moisture on her cheeks twinkle in the moonlight which streamed in through the window.
Only when I lay in my bed, the warm blankets over me, did I realize that if I didn’t do something really quickly, I would lose my little sister.
Suddenly, in spite of all the blankets, I felt cold inside.
The Great Hunt of Green Park
When I woke the next morning, I fervently hoped that last night had been a nightmare. But when I saw Ella’s red-rimmed eyes, I knew that was wishful thinking.
Last night had been true. My sister was going to elope - and not even with a romantic rake of a Scottish laird or something similarly adventurous, but with the tradesman’s son next door. I wasn’t sure what trade his father actually practised. I thought I had heard somewhere that he was a piano tuner.
Sadly, I shook my head. Constantly going around making sure that everywhere you went things sounded the same had to be about the dullest occupation there was. His son didn’t seem a lot more exciting to me, generally speaking. All right, he was a nice enough fellow, for a man, but still, nothing to write home about. And he was the man for whom my sister would lose her honour.
Now don't get the wrong impression - I wasn’t all too keen on honour and virtue myself. If you’re willing to walk around in men’s clothes to work for a living, you have to be able to bend a few social norms and customs. I myself wouldn’t mind getting a few stains on my non-existent good reputation. But I knew that Ella would mind. Very much so, in fact.
Maybe she loved this man enough to run away with him and be happy. But she also would be sad on a deeper level, a level she wouldn’t let anybody see. It would break her heart to disappoint her aunt, silly, compassionate soul that my little sister was. This solution would make Edmund happy - but it would save Ella from one misery only to plunge her into another.
Unless, that is, I could prevent it.
Full of purpose I jumped out of bed. This was no time to dawdle! My sister’s happiness was at stake, and I only had one day to take action before I had to go back to slave for Mr Ambrose. Quickly, I dressed - or as quickly as I could, considering the multitude of petticoats I had to put on - and slipped out of the house without anybody noticing. It was Sunday, and after the tiring dance the other night, the household was sure to sleep long and not notice my absence.
As I ran down the street, the beginnings of various plans were already forming in my mind. Somehow I had to get rid of Wilkins. That was the heart of the matter. No Wilkins meant no threat of marriage, no threat of marriage meant no elopement, no elopement meant no unhappy Ella.
For a moment I considered carrying out Edmund’s plan - getting hold of a pistol and just shooting the blasted Wilkins. Yet I discounted that for various reasons. Firstly, wanting to marry my sister was, according to the laws of England, not yet a crime that deserved the death penalty; secondly, I didn’t have money for a gun; and thirdly, even if I did, I would most likely miss.
Hmm… That last bit will have to be rectified in the not-too-distant future. Now that you are regularly running around in men’s clothes you might as well claim male privileges, such as shooting anybody whose face you didn’t like.
Back to planning… how to get rid of Wilkins without shooting him?
By the time I had reached Green Park I had hit on quite a promising idea.
I needed only to find out something, something strange or disreputable or otherwise horrible about Wilkins, which could be revealed to my aunt. With her snobbish ways, she would cut off the connection faster than you could say Jack Robinson. I had no doubt there was something to Sir Philip’s detriment that could be discovered. An over-romanticised, flower-fanatical guffin like he was bound to have some skeletons hidden in his closet.
And I knew exactly who could help me find some of those.
I raced through Green Park, people right and left throwing me disapproving looks. I was running far faster than was seemly for a young lady; that was clear for all the world to read on their faces. But in the distance I could see three figures who did not look disapproving. On the contrary, they looked delighted to see me, waving at me energetically. One of them nearly brained a passing gentleman with her parasol.
Unable to stifle a grin in spite of how worried I was, I picked up my pace. It had been ages since I last saw all my friends together, and now I needed them more than ever. They would be my company of spies, who would help me find a chink in Sir Philip’s armour. They would help me save Ella.
And in spite of my private troubles, I had not forgotten the original reason because of which I had called them together: the anti-suffragist meeting which was soon to take place here in London. With these two topics, we were sure to have more than enough to talk about.
I came to a stop only a few yards away from them, gasping for breath.
‘Listen,’ I said. ‘I… I have something really important to tell you. I have-’
‘So it’s true?’ Eve demanded, skipping forward eagerly. ‘You do have a lover?’
I blinked at her, taken aback.
‘What?’
‘I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it!’ Eve started a little dance around me that would have been more fitting for a Cherokee medicine man than for a proper young English lady. Some part of my mind wondered how the heck she was managing those acrobatics with a hoop skirt on. Most of my mind, however, was wondering what the heck she had been talking about.
‘I knew it was true the minute Patsy told us what Ella had told her,’ she babbled, and it all became clear to me.
The ball. Patsy grilling Ella for information, and Ella spouting out the ridiculous excuses I had told her.
No. Oh please, God, no! Don’t let Patsy have told everyone!
As usual, God didn’t listen.
‘Flora didn’t believe it, but I knew right away it was true. You were away all the time last week and not one of us had the slightest idea where you had disappeared to and oh isn’t this exciting, girls? Lilly has found herself a man! You must tell us all about him!’