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| Welcome to my Blog! Wander through wonderful worlds real and fictional, meet interesting people, visit exciting places and find a few good books to enjoy along the way! |
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| About the Book |
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| Read An Excerpt |
Anna winked at Gracie over Julia’s shoulder. “Take care of
your sister’s ankle. I wish you well. My tongue may be
glib, but hers is a pruning knife that shreds hearts.”
“Cut the dramatics, Nappie,” Sam said, coming in from talking
to the cabbie. He turned to Julia. “You ready? The driver’s anxious to get his
horse moving in the cold. I covered the fare.”
Julia gave a tight shake of her head. “There was no need. But
thank you.” She grasped Gracie’s arm and limped down the steps, her skirts
bobbing like the paper boats Anna and her brothers used to set adrift on the
Delaware, the ones that never came back.
“Wait.” Anna yanked her coat off the hook, rummaged in the
pocket, and pulled out the complimentary tickets intended for her mother and
sister. She dashed down the step and shoved them into Julia’s hand. “Please
come to my Concert Hall oration.”
Julia stared at the flimsy bits of paper as if she’d been
offered an invitation to feast with the devil. She would never come, unless—
“I’m going to talk
about you,” Anna whispered in her ear. “The poor working girl with holes in her
shoes, in one of my exemplary stories.”
Julia’s face blanched white. She stashed the tickets inside
her coat then disappeared into the cab.
Despite the damp breeze coming off the Delaware that whipped
at her skirts and tangled her curls, Anna pressed her coat against her chest
and watched the cabbie pull away from the curb.
What was it about that girl? She’d never felt the need to
interfere in someone’s life as she did Julia Pennington’s. The mill girl
deserved more than whatever life had thrown at her and her sister. If she could,
she’d whisk her away, free her from whatever dire secret made her lips turn
down and her hands tremble.
She wanted to laugh with her. Curl up under the covers at
night and read poetry. Argue until dawn. She pictured herself, arm in arm with
Julia, two bold women promenading past all the pontificating men and striding
up to the platform. Of all the women she knew, Julia Pennington, in her faded
clothes and scuffed shoes, was the first who had seen through her. She had
inner strength, that girl. And her hair—
Sam jabbed her with his elbow. “Come in out of the cold,
Nappie. You will catch your death.” He held the door for her and hustled her
inside. “What a pair of goslings. Wherever did you find them? The young one
claims she wants to be a doctor but does not have a serious thought in her
head. She talked on and on about the health of the cabbie’s poor horse. Made me
go out and check it over, as if I know anything about horses. And the other one
has the face of a stone Venus and says nothing. Her clothes belong in the
dustbin. You can’t save every beggar girl, Anna.”
“No, Sam.” She pinched his sleeve. “Those girls are trapped
in a world where women can’t earn a decent living or have aspirations beyond
marriage.”
Her brother pulled her hair and grinned. “Give it up, little
sister. I’ve heard it all. Move along. It’s way too cold out here.” He opened
the parlor door and stepped inside. The door shut behind him with a thud.
Anna hung her coat on the hall tree. Pompous prig. Her
brothers liked to talk justice all right, spouting arguments for woman’s rights
while they sat in a cozy parlor with their friends.
But like so many good men, it was easier for them to blame
women for their own rotten lot in life. They would never take action for women
like Julia, who toiled long hours in unbearable conditions for a third of a
man’s salary.
But she
could. She could mount the platform and speak out for women.
Anna leaned against the front door,
steadied by the hard oak. That was the way to show girls like Julia and Gracie what
determination and ambition could accomplish. She pictured herself banging the
podium and demanding womanhood to rise up and claim their rightful place in the
world.
She, not her brothers, had inherited her father’s fight, and
oration was her gift. Everyone said so. Why, two years
ago, had she not driven a man from the Clarkson debates with words alone? Why
shouldn’t she inspire women to take action?
One
of Julia’s
hairpins lay forgotten on the table. She picked it up and pressed the end against her thumb until
pain radiated deep under the skin.
Marmee was right about the danger.
Self-satisfied men would not hesitate to make an upstart woman’s life miserable
if she challenged the status quo. Look at how her boss at the Mint treated her
like a pesky fly he wanted to bash.
She pushed away from the door and twisted her hands in her
hampering skirts. If she had enough courage, she’d slash the hated softness of
womanhood off and peel away the tender skin until only bone and hardness were
left.
She set her brother’s silk top hat jauntily on her head and
nodded at the image in the hall mirror. She knew she was a plain woman, but it
was no fancy that, except for fate, she might have been a handsome man.
She tore off the hat and threw it down. She had to do it. She had to change the world for women, no matter what. And she would start with Julia Pennington.
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Website: https://helenhollick.net/
Amazon Author Page: https://viewauthor.at/HelenHollick
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Thanks so much for hosting Joan Koster today, Helen. xx
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