Valerie Hansen - Rescuing the Heiress

“Well, I never…” The woman spun and shuffled up the aisle, her skirts swinging from side to side like a huge, clanging bell.

Tess felt a tug on her skirt from Annie and resumed her place on the bench.

“We should go before she tells your father,” the maid said with unshed tears glistening. “The Blassingames are rich enough to have a telephone. If she rings him, he’ll discover we’re gone.”

“I’m not afraid of Papa,” Tess said, although she did feel an undeniable twinge of nervousness. She smiled for Annie’s benefit. “If you’re worried, then we’ll go home now. I’m sure that will please Michael, too.”

“There’s another meeting tomorrow night and the night after,” Annie offered. “Maybe you can get someone else to take you.”

Starting down the aisle, Tess lightly grasped her friend’s arm with one hand and carried her heavy coat draped over the other. “Don’t you want to come with me, too?”

“Mercy, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because it seems so wrong,” Annie said, speaking quietly aside. “Look at all these women. They should be at home with their families. I know some must have husbands or children. That’s where their duty lies.”

“Can’t they be individuals as well?” Tess asked. “I believe I am.”

“Of course you are. You have all the money you’ll ever need. But I don’t. I never will. Neither will my poor mother, and if folks get all riled up about this suffragette movement, there’s no telling how it will affect the likes of us.”

“You’re really afraid?”

Annie nodded vigorously. “Terrified is more like it.”

“Then I apologize,” Tess said tenderly. “I should never have insisted we come. I’m just so used to the two of us doing things together, I never thought about how being here might feel to you. I certainly didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. How can I make it up to you?”

“Pray. Hard,” Annie said. “That’s what I’ve been doing ever since we left your estate.”

“Good idea. Oh, dear. Look.”

Pausing at the archway of the exit door, Tess peered out at the milling crowd that awaited them. She and Annie were the only ones leaving early and without the buffering presence of the other women inside the hall, they were going to have to run a gauntlet of angry husbands, fathers and brothers. Even those men who were merely standing there smoking and chatting with their cronies had begun staring as if she and her frightened maid were escaping criminals.

Tess had Annie help her don her bulky black coat before she turned and squared her shoulders. Facing such a show of strength and greater size, she felt minuscule but she was not about to let any shred of apprehension show.

Head high, she walked directly into the fray as if she expected the group to part the way the Red Sea had for Moses and grant her unhindered passage. To her surprise and delight, the closest men did just that.

Michael saw Tess coming. Before he could reach her and Annie, however, they had been accosted by several of the angry men who’d been lurking amidst the crowd.

He had to push his way through to get to the women. Tess was standing her ground but poor Annie was cowering and weeping into her hands.

“Shame on you,” Tess shouted at their nearest adversaries as she pulled the crying girl closer. “See what you’ve done? You’re nothing but a bunch of nasty bullies.”

Hearing that kind of talk made Michael cringe. He clenched his fists as he joined the young women and quickly placed himself between them and their antagonists. Surprise was on his side. Numbers were not. He was only one man and there were at least five of the others, two of whom looked able to defend themselves most adequately.

He slipped his arm around Tess’s shoulders, including Annie in the embrace as best he could and said, “Sorry boys. My sisters need to be getting home. C’mon, girls. Papa’s waiting.”

It didn’t surprise him one bit when Tess tried to twist out of his grip as he began to shepherd them away.

“Let go of us,” she grumbled, loud enough to be heard by almost anyone within twenty or thirty feet.

Michael grinned over his shoulder at the other men and shrugged as if silently appealing for sympathy. The ruse worked. They started to chuckle and one of them gave him a thumbs-up.

Beside him Tess continued to make loud, intemperate statements as he hustled her along the sidewalk. “Stop this. I demand you release me, Michael Mahoney. Do you hear me? There is no need for strong-arm tactics. I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, yeah?” He lowered his voice. “And how were you going to get away from that confrontation back there? Talk them out of it?”

“I was handling the situation quite adequately.”

“That wasn’t how it looked to me,” he argued.

Deciding that they were out of danger, at least for the moment, he slackened his hold and Tess immediately shook him off.

She paused long enough to straighten her hat, withdraw one of the long pins that had held it in place and brandish the thin shaft like a sword. “See? I could have defended myself.”

“For about two seconds, until one of those fellows disarmed you.” He eyed the flimsy weapon. “Put that away before you hurt somebody.”

“You mean like you?”

“Yeah, like me,” Michael answered. “You seem to be having trouble telling your friends from your enemies these days and I’d just as soon be out of reach if you suddenly decide I’m one of the villains.”

“According to Mrs. Blassingame, that woman who took your seat, it’s Maud Younger who’s evil. Imagine that.”

“I can. Easily,” he countered. “Almost any man out here would agree.” He knew he’d spoken too candidly when he saw Tess’s eyes narrow. Although she did stick the hat pin back where it belonged, her motions were abrupt and jerky, indicating that her temper was far from soothed.

She grabbed Annie’s hand and forged ahead with the girl in tow. Rather than object, Michael fell into step in their wake. Their party was now far enough from the pavilion that they wouldn’t automatically be connected with the ongoing suffrage lecture if they happened to be observed. That was a huge relief.

“Turn right at the corner of Market,” he called. “The buggy is down about half a block. You can’t miss it.”

Although Tess didn’t answer, he noted that she was heeding his instructions. Fine. Let her brood or fuss and fume or whatever else she wanted to do. As long as she went straight to the cabriolet without getting into any more trouble on the way, he’d be satisfied. It had been sheer folly to let himself be talked into making this trip in the first place. The sooner it was over, the happier he’d be.

Tess would have given a month’s allowance to have had another handy mode of transportation. Oh, she knew she could hire a hack to deliver her and Annie to the top of Nob Hill or even take a streetcar part of the way. It wasn’t that. The problem was, she had to see to it that her father’s rig was returned promptly and in apple-pie order. He was rightly proud of the sleek black, covered buggy with its deep green trim and bloodred upholstery, as well as his fine stable.

The bay mare that they were driving tonight, however, was technically Tess’s. It had been a birthday gift, although her father still acted as if he were lord and master over his entire domain, including all the horses, even hers.

Without waiting for assistance she approached the side of the cabriolet, hiked her skirts, placed a booted foot on the small step and reached for a handhold with which to pull herself aboard.

The oversize coat was a bother because it hampered her freedom of movement. Nevertheless, she did not intend to stand there and wait for a bossy man who obviously didn’t think she could take care of herself.