Page 112 of Rules for Ruin

“Nonsense,” Effie said. “The lecture promises to be edifying in the extreme. By the end of it, the three of us will be fast friends.”

“What is the lecture about?” Mrs. Naismith asked.

A woman in a chair nearby turned to answer. Her curling gray hair was contained by a felt turban trimmed with cerise feathers. “It is on the subject of girls’ education,” she said. “We shall be hearing the latest progress on the committee’s findings as well.”

“What committee?” Effie asked.

“The one Lady Bartlett has assembled to reform the married women’s property law,” the woman answered. “There was a similar committee several years ago, but its work came to nothing. We’re determined to take up the charge.”

Effie’s interest piqued. Miss Corvus had mentioned that there was serious discussion about a bill being brought before Parliament. Could this committee be the source of it? “How have you proceeded?” she asked.

“We collect signatures on various petitions,” the woman said. “We also collect testimonials from affected women. Their personal stories are powerful evidence. It only remains to find a sponsor for our bill—and to successfully combat any opposition to it. I have every reason to hope that, this time, our attempts will be successful.”

“It’s a splendid ideal,” Effie said. “I endorse it wholeheartedly.”

The woman offered her hand to Effie. “Mrs. Jefferies,” she said, introducing herself.

“Euphemia Flite,” Effie replied, shaking her hand.

“You are welcome to join us,” Mrs. Jefferies said. “Young people are the lifeblood of our fight.”

Before Effie could reply, Lady Bartlett moved to the front of the room, raising her hands to bring everyone to attention. “My dear friends, old and new, welcome, welcome. We have much to get through today, so if you’ve all taken your seats…”

Miss Compton whispered to Effie as Lady Bartlett continued speaking. “I don’t think we should remain.”

Mrs. Naismith heard her. She leaned across Effie to reply to Miss Compton. “Why ever not?” she whispered back.

“It’s revolutionary talk,” Miss Compton said. “We’re not meant to hear it.”

“Why shouldn’t we?” Mrs. Naismith asked. “It sounds positively titillating.”

“Exactly,” Miss Compton replied ominously. “My father says that lectures of this sort are a poison to women. He warns most strenuously against them.”

“Naturally, he does,” Effie said. “That is how gentlemen remain in power, by making us fear the very thing that will set us free.”

Miss Compton drew back with a dubious blink. “Lectures by radical bluestockings?”

“Knowledge,” Effie said. “It’s ignorance that’s the poison, Miss Compton. This…well. I very much hope this will be the cure.”

29

Some ninety minutes later, Effie emerged from Lady Bartlett’s house alongside Miss Compton and Mrs. Naismith. Together, they descended the front steps to the busy street below.

Miss Compton’s fair brow was furrowed deeply. Despite her initial protestations, she had listened intently as Lady Bartlett related the damning testimonials her committee had compiled from ladies who had suffered under the current property laws. Women of every class whose fortunes, both large and small, had been squandered or stolen by the men they had married. The same men whom the law believed were better custodians of a wife’s earnings and inheritances than the wife herself.

And that hadn’t been the worst of it.

After Lady Bartlett had finished her sobering report, she’d introduced Miss Wolstenholme, a prominent teacher from Manchester, who spoke on the evils of the current system of educating girls. She’d laid out in plain terms how girls were purposely kept in ignorance, dissuaded from engaging in politics or public affairs, and discouraged from having strong opinions else they be labeled unfeminine. Like the current laws, it was all predicated on the flawed idea that the more serious aspects of a female’s life—finances, property, even intimate relations—were better left to be managed by men.

“Well,” Effie said frankly, “I found that very enlightening.”

“Oh, but it was!” Mrs. Naismith agreed. Like Miss Compton, she had been riveted by the lecture, seeming to be as fascinated by the topics discussed as she was at being newly acquainted with the daughter of her protector. “Do you think it all true?”

“Of course it’s true,” Miss Compton said. “And monstrous besides.”

Mrs. Naismith nodded. “The injustice of it—men purposefully keeping us in the dark, and then chastising us for not being their intellectual equals? My—” she stopped, catching herself. “That is, a friend of mine, did recently say my concerns about money were unattractive. Unattractive, I tell you! But really…one must think of the years ahead. One isn’t young forever.”

Effie gave Mrs. Naismith a thoughtful look. Had she been pressing Compton about her future? And rather than reassure her, he had criticized her practical concerns as being unbecoming?