Chapter Twelve #3
“I do so respect female pugilists,” Lady Milton said, her voice sincere. “And I dare say, I find people who prefer to listen quite refreshing.”
“Ladies,” Lady Siddons called. “Please take your seats because we are almost ready to start the meeting.”
The parlor quieted as the ladies arranged themselves around the room. Josie sat beside Franny, and Roseanna folded her arms across her chest and propped herself beside the door as if she were a sentry.
Surely no one would care that Genevieve had changed her mind. She doubted Roseanna, who always exhibited a calm nonchalance, would try to stop her.
As Genevieve prepared to stand and flee, Lady Milton grasped her hand, startling her so much that she remained seated. “You look so familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked.
Recalling the dark alley where Jonathan had rescued her, Genevieve’s cheeks heated.
Luckily, she didn’t have to respond because Lady Siddons banged a gavel on the long table at which she, Lady Davenport, and Bridget Wentworth sat.
Unfortunately, now that the meeting had started, it was too late to run from the packed room without calling attention to herself—so much irony.
“I call this meeting of The Lady’s Autonomy League to order.” Lady Siddons brought her hand to her heart. “My goodness, we grow in ranks every week.”
“Soon, we will need to knock down the wall to make a bigger meeting room,” Bridget said. “Oh, I know. We can include knocking down walls in our exercises. How marvelous! An army of female warriors formed from hard physical labor.”
“Keep my sister-in-law away from all hammers, mallets, and axes,” Josie called.
The ladies laughed. Meanwhile, Bridget put down her pen, stood, and pretended to cut into the wall with an imaginary ax.
“Hmm,” Josie murmured. “That might actually be an exceedingly beneficial method of training.”
“A battle axe with a battle ax,” Bridget announced.
Some of the younger ladies sniggered.
Lady Siddons rolled her eyes. “Our first order of business is that I would like to introduce our new members. Bridget, are you ready?”
Sighing dramatically, Bridget plopped into her chair and picked up her pen.
“First, we have Lady Celeste Milton,” Lady Siddons said.
The beautiful woman beside Genevieve stood. “I am so pleased to be here,” she declared as confidently as if she were the queen herself.
Lawks, no. Hopefully, they were not going to introduce Genevieve. She did not want to stand and have everyone look at her.
Then how are you going to box in front of people, silly girl?
Boxing was different. She was a superior athlete. She was a terrible orator. At least she hoped that they were different, or she was in way over her head.
“Next, I would like to present Mrs. Patricia Benson.” Lady Siddons extended her hand palm up, presenting a gray-haired woman with a sparkle in her eyes. “Patricia is Franny’s landlady and Edward’s dearest friend, as well as a strong supporter of female-owned businesses.”
Franny blew a kiss to the smiling woman who stood. The cheerful landlady waved, rearranged her skirt, and then sat.
“And finally, we have a future lady prizefighter in our midst.” Lady Siddons swept her hand in Genevieve’s direction. “Gen Blue.”
As in Blue was now her surname? Heavens, she was going to faint dead away, and with her luck, she’d land in Celeste Milton’s lap.
“Gen The Ghost,” Franny called.
“The Ghost. The Ghost,” the ladies chanted.
Genevieve forced her quivering legs to stand. She made a half-hearted wave. However, she couldn’t find the courage to make eye contact with anyone.
“On to our next topic,” Lady Siddons said.
Genevieve collapsed onto her chair, and it was several minutes before her heart rate returned to normal. She was so nervous that she struggled to concentrate. However, through the rushing sounds in her ears and the pounding of her heart, she caught bits and pieces of the conversation.
From what she could gather, the duke’s attempts to discuss changes in coverture laws had met with considerable skepticism.
However, he had persuaded a few of the younger peers of its importance, so overall, he was making progress, although it was still much too slow for his aunt’s liking.
Discussions about expanding educational opportunities for women had a bit more support, although the plan would require individuals who desired to invest in such initiatives.
“On to our next topic,” Lady Siddons said. “Did everyone read our essay, On the Equality of the Sexes, by Judith Sargent Murray?”
“I did,” Lady Hillcaster said.
“And now you are going to elucidate us all on what balderdash it is,” Bridget said.
Lady Hillcaster frowned. “Actually…I agree with the author.”
Lady Davenport scowled at Bridget. “Go on, Lucille,” she said.
“I am truly sorry, Lady Hillcaster,” Bridget said. “That was rather rude of me. But usually, you are quite vocal about your traditional ideals, which contradict what Murray espouses.”
“I am changing my views on things,” Lady Lucille Hillcaster declared, her chin high.
“As am I,” Lady Whitehall said. “I now believe that women are only seen as inferior because we have limited educational opportunities. If we had the same opportunities as men, women could excel in science, medicine, law, and philosophy.”
“Here, here,” the ladies chorused.
“May I interject?” the beautiful Lady Milton asked.
“Go on, Celeste,” Lady Siddons said.
“I have not yet read the essay, although I will as soon as possible.”
Lord help Genevieve because envy devoured her at the sound of Lady Milton’s sensual, cultured voice.
“Mayhap we could have women’s classes right here. We could offer subjects such as law and business. We could hire the best teachers. I have the funds to invest in such a project.”
Lawks! Not only was the woman beautiful, but she was also benevolent. And, apparently, wealthy as Croesus.
“How generous, Celeste,” Lady Siddons said. “The Silk Knuckles Academy for Enterprising Ladies. Josie and Franny, what are your thoughts?”
“Mayhap,” Josie said. “Why don’t we come up with some ideas?”
“You may not be aware, but my late mother was a governess before she married my father,” Franny said.
“Papa and I are passionate about supporting educational opportunities for females. I think the idea has potential. I agree with Josie. Let’s come up with ideas, and I will present them to my father. ”
“I am sure Calder will be amenable,” Lady Davenport said, her soft gaze betraying her romantic inclinations for the coach.
Ladies called out suggestions for The Silk Knuckles School, and the room buzzed with side conversations as they discussed Lady Milton’s proposal.
Genevieve had so many ideas to contribute that, unfortunately, for now, remained stuck in her head.
If only she had a voice, because then she could help instruct the young ladies.
Despite the unfortunate circumstances surrounding teaching her siblings, she had enjoyed being a pseudo-governess.
But alas, here she was, a mute beggar woman living off the charity of others as she tried to become a prizefighter.
“Are you recording all of the suggestions?” Lady Siddons asked Bridget.
“Every single one,” Bridget said. “’Tis such a wonderful proposal.”
“I suppose that is all for today,” Lady Siddons said.
Bridget held her pen high. “I hereby motion for this meeting of the Sisterhood of Harpies, Hoydens, and Harridans to conclude. Do I have a second?”
From beside Genevieve, Lady Milton choked on a biscuit. Meanwhile, Lady Siddons and Lady Davenport both glared at Bridget.
Bridget harrumphed. “Botheration. I hereby motion for this meeting of the Ladies’ Autonomy League to conclude. Do I have a second?”
“I second the motion,” Lady Whitehill said.
A hum of excited murmurs filled the air.
Lady Milton leaned close to Genevieve. “Miss Blue,” she whispered.
“I recognize you now.” She grabbed Genevieve by the elbow and escorted her through the sea of chattering ladies, into the hall, and down the stairs.
Meanwhile, Genevieve’s body quivered, and her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
How apropos that one of Jonathan’s lovers would be the one to initiate her demise.
They entered the gymnasium to find that all of the men, except for one, had left. The shirtless, sweaty Viscount Davenport, his back muscles rippling, steadily pounded on one of the sandbags.
Since she was to ride home with Lady Davenport, Genevieve assumed he would be gone by the time the meeting was over. Obviously, she’d been mistaken. He was probably waiting for Lady Milton so that he could take her home and make love to her in his carriage.
Fighting the countess’s tug, Genevieve dug her heels into the floor.
“Come along, Gen,” Lady Milton said. “Jonathan,” she called.
Lord Davenport halted his barrage and faced them. Sweat coated his pectorals and abdominals, and the curling damp hair around his ears had darkened. His gaze slid from Lady Milton to stare into Genevieve’s eyes. Her hammering heart tumbled over itself.
Feeling as though she had no other choice, Genevieve allowed herself to be dragged to him.
“Jonathan, how dare you try to convince me you don’t care?
You went back for him.” She pointed at Gen.
“Him, who is actually a lovely woman.” She wrapped him in her arms as Genevieve helplessly watched.
“You dear, sweet, wonderful man.” Although he allowed the embrace, even going so far as to hug the countess back, Lord Davenport’s bright green eyes remained pinned to Genevieve, scorching her to her very soul.