But Louisa’s words came out in a rush. “Gifts, Samuel? What use are they to any woman? Don’t you see? We are simply viewed as packages. We don’t do the choosing. We are the parcels, to be picked up—or not. Men choose us or discard us as they please, while all the older women look on like rival bidders at an auction house. Everyone is complicit. It’s brutal.” Louisa had to take several deep breaths. Fear and anger and even guilt, were she honest, and sadness and loss and homesickness, dare she admit to that, were all wrapped up in one whirling mess.
“You are worth more than anything in the world to me,” Samuel said. “But I just don’t see that your dreams of freedom and independence are realistic in any way at all. You will need support if you want to take on anything. You will need a perceptive husband. Even your Mrs. Pankhurst has that.”
“If there are going to be any husbands, they are going to have to be enlightened.” Louisa almost laughed out the words. “Samuel, I just wish I could come with you to Hong Kong, do what you are doing,” she said through gritted teeth. “See the world. Gain experience. Contribute.”
“I know.” Samuel sounded a little distant now. “But we are stuck in the world as it is, Louisa. The changes you dream of are radical. And radical change requires a revolution. And revolution means violence. And as your brother, I do not want you involved. I don’t know what will happen. I don’t know what will come of Mrs. Pankhurst and her activities, but I do know that I care about you. And I want you to stay safe, and I want you to keep your dreams safe. Promise me that. Don’t risk your reputation; don’t ruin your chances of happiness over this. Just wait. It will work out. I believe that. I will write to you as often as I possibly can.”
Louisa blew out a breath. “I want to be free to make my own decisions. I want to be free to run my own life. Just like you are. That’s all.”
“None of us are free,” Samuel said. He ran a hand over his head. “But I am in constant awe at your ability to hold down an argument.”
Louisa shook her head. They had argued all their lives. But at least she knew she could trust Samuel with her thoughts. He would never betray her to anyone. She knew that he understood her, but he was not willing to upset the status quo. He thought one could hold views within the confines of society, and he viewed society as protective. And that was where they would always differ. The rub was that Louisa also understood that she lived in a world where an unmarried woman was considered of far less consequence than a married one. Were she not to marry, she would find it almost impossible to have a voice. She still had to think further about this matter, but the answer was not coming easily at all.
What was more, any marriage that she entered into would have to be considered suitable. What if she were to fall in love, heaven help her, with someone who did not fit her mother’s idea of the perfect husband? She had spent sleepless nights dealing with the fact that she could not have a career, nor could she choose whom she might fall in love with.
So if she were to avoid an arranged marriage, if she were to join the fight for women’s rights and hope to meet someone who might in fact interest her rather than simply be suitable for the circle in which she moved, she knew what she would be labeled—a bluestocking, a renegade, a misfit. A young woman’s reputation, once lost, was impossible to restore. Was she ready to throw everything that she had ever known away?
Louisa turned back toward the terrace. “Let’s go and drink champagne for Meg and for Guy.”
Samuel was right behind her. “She is happy with him, Louisa.”
“I know.” Louisa waved an arm at him, but she marched on ahead.
Sometimes she wondered where she fit into the world at all.
The next morning, Louisa changed into her riding habit straight after breakfast. Saying good-bye to Samuel had not been as bad as she had imagined. His buoyancy and excitement had shone through when she hugged him in the driveway just after dawn, no matter how tactfully he attempted to hide his feelings for her benefit. The last thing Louisa had wanted was to break his mood.
Now, she needed to be outside, to be free, preferably somewhere she could take a horse for a gallop. She strode through Willowdale’s hallway, into the wing that housed Meg’s bedroom. Meg had taken to having her breakfast brought up to her in bed since getting married. Louisa could hear the clink of a teacup settling on a porcelain saucer as she stood outside her friend’s door and knocked.