“You”—the mustached man pointed a finger at Mungo—“should not encourage this.”
“You’ll not speak to my brother in such a way,” Calder said, moving to face the man before Mungo could stop him.
“Calder—”
“You should both be ashamed of yourselves for supporting this,” the man said. “Women voting,” he scoffed, which made Calder snarl. “What’s next, the right to sit in the House of Lords?”
His brother had once been the even-tempered Fraser, but considering what he was dealing with right then, Mungo doubted he was rational.
The crowd was growing, and more men were moving to stand behind the few who had been there when they arrived. Mungo would not stand for anyone abusing those under his protection.
“We work, we pay, we give, we mend. Give us the vote, let this injustice end!” Flora chanted.
“Ashamed, is it?” Calder said in a tone that Mungo hadn’t heard in many years. “It’s you who should be that for suppressing women for your own ego.”
The fist came from nowhere and landed on Calder’s jaw. The women squawked in outrage like startled hens, and Mungo saw red. He lunged, grabbing the man who hadpunched his brother and dropped him with a fist. And then the fight really began.
“Get them back, Mavis!” Mungo roared, knowing she could do it by force if need be.
A war cry filled the air, and then Cyn was lashing out with a placard at a man. Mavis came into his periphery, moving like a boxer, both fists raised as she circled her opponent. She jabbed and then retreated as one of the men swung at her.
“Christ!”
Mungo didn’t know who spoke, but in seconds, Cyn was pulled back by Tabitha. To his left, Flora charged with Harriet, running at a man with a scarf stretched between them. They garroted him, and the wind rushed out of him in a loud whooshing sound as he stumbled backward.
“Retreat!” Mungo roared. It was a waste of breath and he knew it, as they did.
Calder had one man in a headlock, and Miss Alvin kicked him in the arse.
“Nice work, Miss Alvin!” Cyn roared her encouragement.
The fight was quick and fierce, and soon the men who’d come at them were retreating. The one who had done all the talking had lost his hat and was running off down the street.
“That’s right, run away, you bloody cowards!” The words came from Mrs. Greedy, who raised a fist. She then bent to pick up the hat and placed it on her head, which was already covered with a woolen hat and scarf.
Mungo hauled in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly to ease the red mist covering his eyes. It didn’t work. Turning, he leveled the women a look that should have cowed them, then glared at the onlookers.
“Move it along now,” Mavis called. “Nothing more to see here.”
“What were you all thinking?” Mungo said through his teeth. “Any one of you could have been hurt by a stray fist.”
“So could you,” Mavis added.
“That’s different!” It came out a bellow. Why was it the people around him constantly needed protecting?
“How?” She put her hands on her hips.
The others joined her in a line. Calder stood to his right, watching.
“Because I’m a man,” Mungo said.
Calder groaned loudly.
“Oh, so you’re like them, are you?” Cyn demanded, pointing to where the men had fled. “You think we’re?—”
“If I may defend my brother, I would say he is overly protective of you all, and that is the reason for his words,” Calder surprised him by saying.
“But do you think we shouldn’t vote, Mungo?” Harriet asked softly, her eyes sad.
