Time seemed to slow to an interminable crawl.Curricles and high-perch phaetons vied with carts and hackneys for every space that opened on the crowded road.Finally, the Houses of Parliament were ahead.
The traffic came to a halt.It showed no sign of clearing.There was an overturned cart ahead.The hackney driver let forth a stream of abuse at the driver of the stationary vehicle in front.
William hauled his fob watch from its pocket.“He is due to speak any time now, Jane.We will never get there in time.”
“Stay with the cab, William.I will go on foot.”Jane clambered onto the road.She set off half running toward the House, looking for any sign of Jonathan ahead.
There he was—walking toward the entry.Her stomach lurched.She sprinted forward, calling to him.
He was about to take a step inside when he heard her and paused to turn around and look.She called with the last of her breath and waved frantically as she attempted to run the last hundred feet along the pavement to him.She sidestepped strolling fashionably dressed and hastening sober-suited pedestrians.
He hadn’t seen her.He turned to enter.She made one last effort to get his attention with a loud shout.“Jonathan!”
He turned.His face held an arrested look of surprise.And then he was striding toward her.
Jane bent double, gasped for breath.Blood pounded through her heart.
He reached her.“Jane, what are you doing here?”He grasped her elbows and made to straighten her.
She shook her head, signaling for him to let her recover.“Wait, please!”she gasped.
Instead, he bent over her and rubbed her back soothingly.
“Oh, Jonathan,” she rasped through her raw throat.“I thought I would never catch up with you.”
“Whyever did you want to?”
“I had to stop you.You mustn’t speak today.”
His frown deepened.“Why not?It’s my maiden speech.”
“I know.I know, but you mustn’t.William has told me.”
“Told you what?What has William told you?”
“The topic of your speech.”She was recovering now.Jane grasped his arms and looked steadily into his eyes.“You must not talk on the rights of women.It will mean political disgrace for you.”
“Jane, you said you wanted me to support your cause.I will do just that.”
“I implore you, do not!”Jane tugged at his sleeve to emphasize her point.
Looking fascinated by her words, Jonathan challenged, “Why does my political humiliation matter to you?”
Jane became conscious of the surging mass of pedestrians sidestepping them on the footpath and staring at the strange tableau they must be forming.“If you will just take me away from here and promise not to make your speech today,” Jane pleaded, “I will tell you.”
Jonathan pulled his gaze from hers and looked around them, realizing, for the first time, that they were exposed in a very public place.“Yes, of course.”He drew her hand through the crook of his arm, repositioned his hat firmly on his head, and led Jane in the direction from which she had run.
Jane looked up to see William, still in the hackney, wave to her in farewell, then give instructions to the driver, probably to return to Dalton House.They walked along Great George Street towards St.James’s Park.
“So, Jane, why do you care whether I give a speech in the House of Lords in favor of women’s rights and become a laughingstock among my peers?Isn’t that what you wanted when you asked me to support your cause back in September?Or even a week ago?”His gaze searched her face.
Jane glanced away, then back, and drew a breath.“Yes, it was what I wanted then.”She hesitated.
“But not now?”he probed.
“No,” she answered quietly and looked away.“Now I care more about you and your welfare than I do about the cause.That is not to say that I no longer care about women gaining equal rights,but that it is not worth sacrificing you and therefore my love for you.If you were to be labeled a radical and condemned by your peers, eventually you would come to blame me, and that would destroy any affection you still feel for me.”She glanced at his face to see his response.
His gaze pierced hers.“And that would matter to you?”
