it is worse than we thought,” she said coldly. “You, Montgomery, are a liberal.”
She might as well have called him a traitor. They regarded each other across the room, warily taking measure of each other as new cards were being dealt.
When the queen spoke again, her tone was flat. “The day you had your first audience with me, a duke at nineteen and with the eyes of a man much older, I saw something in you. In truth, you reminded me of Albert. He was quiet, too. He had an unshakable moral code, and he preferred deeds over words, qualities that are very rare in a man these days, and which I favor greatly. Say, have you never wondered why you experienced so little inconvenience after your divorce?”
Sebastian bent his head. “I always knew that you helped shield my reputation, for which I’m ever grateful.”
She scoffed. “We couldn’t tolerate the ruination of an exceptional man by a wicked, foolish girl. And yet we hear you lent support to suffragists last week. Wicked, foolish creatures. And all of them bolstering Gladstone.”
Ah well. Well well well. That explained Her Majesty’s chagrin, but who, he wondered, who could have pushed the matter all the way to Buckingham Palace, and so quickly? He realized then that the small pause had told the queen all she needed to know. Her face was pinched and furious. He really was slipping.
“My involvement was private, not a political matter,” he said.
She gave him an icy glare. “And far be it from us to concern ourselves with our subjects’ private matters. We do not, especially not when they are a personal disappointment to us.”
She reached for her bell.
“Ma’am, these women were treated like criminals and kept in conditions entirely unsuited for females.”
She looked at him as though she did not know him at all. “Do you propose we encourage their agenda? You of all people should know what happens when you let a woman run loose—she knows no moderation. The female heart is a violent creature. We advise you to think wisely from now on where your loyalties lie, Montgomery, what kind of world it is you want. If the esteem of your queen is no motivation for you, at least have a care for your ancestral seat.”
The cold tinny sound of the bell rung out. He was dismissed. He had been warned off, and insulted.
What troubled him most was that he didn’t truly seem to care.
* * *
“Rusticated?” Hattie sounded thunderstruck.
Lucie and Catriona seemed lost for words entirely. The tiny sandwiches on the tiered platters before them were forgotten, as was the bottle of champagne Hattie had ordered to her apartment to celebrate the completion of Helen of Troy last night.
“Yes,” Annabelle said, “but they’ll reinstate me soon.”
She had moved out of Lady Margaret Hall this morning, and her trunks had already been deposited in a tiny lodger’s room in Mrs. Forsyth’s two-down, one-up in Jericho.
“This is ridiculous,” Hattie stormed, “and it’s all my fault. Stay with me here; Aunty will be happy to have you around.”
“We have a guest room,” Catriona said. “Father probably won’t even notice your presence.”
“I have a cot we could put into my sitting room,” Lucie offered.
“Please,” Annabelle said, “that’s very generous of you, but don’t you see? If I am sent down because I’m a blight on the college, I can hardly be seen associating with any of you.”
“That’s true,” Lucie said crisply, “which is why you should stay with me. I have no reputation to lose.”
Catriona and Hattie had fallen quiet.
The lavish room felt stuffy and constricting.
She came to her feet. “Lucie, I know you think you’re a black sheep, but do you really want to attract such negative publicity for your cause?”
Lucie’s delicate face set in determined lines. “You can hardly expect me to just turn my back on you. You wouldn’t have been imprisoned if it weren’t for the cause, which I obliged you to support, so I’m responsible for this. Stay on in Oxford. Stay with me. We will weather this together.”
These crumbs of hope were almost worse than a clean slate of desolation.
“Lucie, the Oxford suffragists are all ladies of quality. If word about me gets out to their fathers, you will have a problem.”
An angry furrow formed between Lucie’s brows. “Leaving a comrade behind would be terrible for troop morale. This could have happened to anyone.”
No. No lady of quality would have thrown a punch.
“We aren’t soldiers,” Annabelle said. “We don’t take arrows for our comrades.