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she had no intention of going, not since Gervase’s sister had told her all about the wonderful things the suffragettes were doing.
Florrie knew exactly why Isobel Richards spent a lot of time in London. That was where all the action was to be found. And soon – very soon – Florrie hoped to be a part of it. How on
earth her grandmother had guessed her plans, she couldn’t imagine. Sometimes she wondered if the old lady had second sight!
    Once they were safely in the nursery, James said, ‘So, what
are
you going to do, old girl?’
    Florrie looked at him sharply. Surely, he hadn’t heard too? ‘Do? What do you mean?’
    ‘Well, won’t Father banish you from the old homestead and tell you you’re never to darken his door again?’
    Florrie breathed a sigh of relief and laughed. ‘James, I’ve just refused a proposal of marriage. I’m not pregnant.’
    ‘That might be as bad in his eyes.’
    ‘Oh no, nothing could be as bad as that. Not in Father’s eyes. I certainly would be cast out if that happened.’
    James flung himself down on the battered old sofa and put his feet up on the arm. Crossing his ankles and putting his hands behind his head, he said languidly, ‘Then perhaps I should tell
you the facts of life, old thing.’
    Florrie picked up a cushion and began to beat him about the head with it until they fell to the floor together, laughing and rolling over and over, their arms around each other. At last they lay
still, panting from the exertion of their mock fight. James’s arms tightened around her. ‘Oh, Sis, just so long as you know you’re doing the right thing. Gervase is an awfully
decent chap, you know.’
    Florrie rested her head against James’s chest. She could hear the pounding of his heart and her voice was muffled as she murmured, ‘Yes, I do know. That’s just why I have to be
honest with him.’
    James stroked her thick mane of glossy hair. ‘Poor old Gervase’ was all he said now. There was a long silence before he went on, ‘But we’re still going to the bonfire and
fireworks tonight at Bixley Manor, aren’t we?’
    ‘Of course.’ Florrie’s heart quickened with excitement. She would see Isobel tonight and their plans would be finalized. And next Monday – as soon as that – they
would both be on their way to London. And there was something else she hadn’t told any of her family. James was quite right. Isobel had a lover in London, but there was nothing furtive about
it. Tonight, at the New Year’s Eve party, she was to announce her engagement to the Honourable Timothy Smythe, son of Lady Leonora Smythe – a well-known figure in London society and an
ardent supporter of Mrs Pankhurst and her followers. Lord Smythe, it seemed, indulged his wife and was happy to stay on his Dorset estate.
    Florrie got up from the floor and pulled her brother to his feet. Impulsively, she flung her arms about him and gave him a bear hug.
    ‘Hey, what’s that for?’
    ‘Oh, just – you know,’ she said and her voice was a little unsteady. No one – not even James or her grandmother – knew of her plans. And she couldn’t tell
them, not yet. ‘Just because I love my little brother.’
    ‘Hey, not so little now, old thing. I’m taller than you.’
    ‘So you are.’ She gazed at him fondly, as if committing every line of his face to her mind.
    For after Monday, she realized, it might be a very long time before she saw him again.

Four
    ‘You haven’t told anyone,’ Isobel Richards whispered as she drew Florrie into her bedroom at Bixley Manor and closed the door firmly behind her.
    ‘Of course not.’
    ‘Right. Now – I need to speak with your grandmother tonight and ask her if you can come with me to London on Monday. You’re sure they don’t know about my – um
– activities?’
    Pushing aside her grandmother’s remark, Florrie answered, ‘No one’s said anything and I’m sure they would’ve done if they’d known.’
    ‘Mm. I’ve been lucky