“Is there anything in particular to which you would like to direct my attention?” he asked impatiently, wanting to leave White’s and find his way to Phoebe’s home now that it was an acceptable hour to call.
“Here,” Totnes said, stabbing a meaty finger into the pages, and Jeffrey’s eyes fell to the bottom of the page.
To all the women of London and beyond, consider this a personal letter, written to you directly from a lady.
Whether you are of the nobility, the landed gentry, or the daughter of an untitled man of sufficient means, you are likely expected to do but one thing with your life — marry, and have children. I understand that. It is what has been expected of women for generations.
While it is true that some women do work in order to make a living for themselves, there are few occupations that are acceptable and available for young ladies. Many women are required to work in order to support their families and typically find themselves performing laborious work. While it sounds like a difficult life to be sure, at times, I envy these women. It must be gratifying to have the ability to support oneself without reliance upon a man in order to provide the funds necessary for survival, which then provides him with the ability to determine what a woman will do with every waking moment of her life.
Not all gentleman are of such a mind, to be sure, but many do feel this way. Is this the way our world must continue? Why do women not have the ability to speak their opinions, to take whatever actions they wish, to marry whomever they choose and if they choose? When they do, should they not be able to retain whatever it is they bring into the marriage, without having to relinquish all to their husbands?
I am not suggesting that gentlemen are not capable of respecting women or their opinions, for there are certainly some that are understanding. What I am saying, ladies, is that we must take the next steps to fight for our rights to speak of what we believe in. To affect change. To work if we would so choose. To have a voice to create the changes that must occur in our country, in Parliament, to create a better life for all, not only for those who hold all of the power.
Together, anything is possible.
Jeffrey raked a hand through his hair. This was not good — not good at all. He was in a mess of trouble, that was certain. Why did it have to be him who was tasked with this unenviable position? Perhaps another could look further into it? He not only had enough to hold his focus at the moment, but he also had a household full of females, as well as a potential fiancée, who would not be altogether pleased if he took this route of persecution.
But someone had to. For this had all the workings of upheaval that he had been so cognizant of preventing. What would Phoebe say about this piece? It wasn’t much of a question. She would agree with it, he was sure. Though he was positive that Viola would as well. How had he managed to surround himself with women of such strong, at-times ignorant, opinions?
“Well?” Totnes challenged him, his hands on his hips, his chin quivering as he looked down at Jeffrey — who was not particularly pleased that the man would choose to question him so, in front of many others.
“Well,” Jeffrey said, standing to face him, as he knew he would tower over the Earl. “I said I would look into the matter. I have been and I will continue to do so. But really, Totnes, is such a piece truly so disturbing for you? Is it threatening your manhood?”
“I thought you agreed with me!” Totnes said, his eyes narrowing into slits.
“I do,” Jeffrey said coolly, balancing out the heat Totnes was throwing. “However, I am following up with this because I think it is the right thing to do, not because I am afraid of how a few women attempting to stir up trouble might affect me.”
“You always have thought that you were better than the rest of us,” Totnes sneered at him.
“Not the majority of you,” Jeffrey corrected with a pointed look at the man. “Just certain men in particular.”
And with Clarence’s bark of laughter trailing after him, Jeffrey exited the building.
* * *
As he drovehis phaeton to Phoebe’s townhome, Jeffrey composed a list within his head of the actions he could take in order to put an end to this publication. He could compose a letter to the office, identifying himself as an advertiser and asking to meet with the publisher. He simply needed a way to make contact. That would be his in, and then he would reason with the woman, help her understand that her words were dangerous. He was sure that the threat of a marquess, as well as other men within the nobility, would be enough to worry her.
First, he needed to find the address of the blasted publication. Must it really be that difficult? The street urchins who delivered the paper had not been much help. He had actually been shocked by their loyalty. Their publisher must pay them well, for typically it did not take many coins in order to convince them for information, even regarding their employers.
Finding himself now in front of Phoebe’s home, he halted his phaeton across the street, next to the square, and looked down at the paper resting beside him on the bench. He picked it up, rifling through the pages, perusing it for some clue as to who he may be dealing with.Published by a Lady, was all it said, and he wondered if he would end up knowing the woman. He had always assumed she would be of middle class, but perhaps he was mistaken.
He rifled through the pages, finding nothing and nearly throwing down the paper in disgust. But just then he paused — there, at the bottom of the back page, was a small mark. He looked at it more closely, seeing it was a lion and a seal poised overtop a ball. What in the— a printer’s mark. Jeffrey smiled triumphantly as he realized what he had found, though he berated himself slightly for not considering this earlier. It was his distracted state — but no longer. After this visit with Phoebe, he knew exactly where he was going.