Susan Johnson - Gorgeous As Sin

Which thought brought him to a standstill on the steps of the terrace, the essential question: exactly how much affection was involved in this effort of his? That decisive calculation was not yet completely resolved in his mind. He knew he wanted Rosalind more than he’d ever wanted anything, but for how long? he asked himself, not unaware of his past record with women. He must decide before he saw her again. This time, with this woman, he daren’t make a mistake he’d live to regret.

Softly swearing, he continued his ascent and entered the house through the library. A few minutes later, he left word of his destination for his mother, and after a quick detour to Grey’s, he rode out to Mertenside for the afternoon.

He needed peace and quiet.

He needed to think.

ARE YOU MAD? Why would I go to a Thompson lecture? ”

“Because Dr. Maud Warren is giving the rebuttal,” Sofia said, leaning against Rosalind’s counter and smiling at her. “Maud’s new research disputes all of old Thompson’s outdated theories about women’s inferiority. It should be exciting; the hall will be packed with women.”

“I’m not sure I need that kind of excitement; the police will be there in force.” The police presence at events such as this was meant to intimidate.

“We can sit in the back and leave if things get out of control. Say you’ll come. Violet and Christina will be there. We should lend them our support.”

The two young ladies were just beginning their college careers, having received scholarships at Girton College, Cambridge, thanks to Rosalind’s training sessions. “If they’re going to be there,” Rosalind murmured, “perhaps we should go.” Her Saturday night lectures were about inspiration and change after all.

“We’ll come home directly after. I’ll have you back by ten at the latest.”

“Good. It’s been a busy day.” Rosalind smiled. “Although, I do adore Maud Warren’s poise in the face of ranting, self-righteous men like Thompson. It should be amusing.”

“Absolutely. Thompson always begins shouting when his theories are disputed, as if the louder his voice, the more persuasive his argument will be. If nothing else, Thompson’s temperamental sideshow will help take your mind off Fitz,” Sofia kindly observed, aware of Rosalind’s dreams last night, not to mention having heard the full litany of Fitz’s transgressions at dinner.

“I’m not sure anything will take my mind off Fitz.” Despite every effort to resist, she thought of him constantly. “It’s stupid, I know. I’m probably the five hundredth woman who’s passed through his life, and none of us has left so much as a ripple on his psyche.”

“You never know,” Sofia replied, although she was careful not to say more. Fitz wasn’t exactly known for his permanent attachments. His note may have been nothing more than a seduction ploy.

“Oh yes, I do,” Rosalind firmly said, her pragmatism coming to the fore once again. “I’m not his style if he even has one, which isn’t altogether certain since he amuses himself with women of every age, rank, and description. And he’s not my style by any stretch of the imagination”-she grimaced-“his obvious and impressive charms aside, of course.”

“Darling, look, if nothing else, your thoughts will be diverted for a few hours at least.” Fitz’s impressive charms were too much in demand for her to offer Rosalind any false hope. “And we’ll also learn something about Maud’s new research. Apparently, female test scores at the universities have been exceeding men’s in every discipline.”

Rosalind chuckled. “I could have told them that, although it’s wonderful that Maud has evidence to document the fact. Have you ever thought about going to university? ”

Sofia shook her head. “Not when I’m making so much money with my painting.”

“Once my finances are in a better state, I just might apply.”

“Good. You spent too many years taking care of Edward. It’s about time you thought of yourself.” And if Fitz enters your life again, you’ll have someone to pay your university fees.

“My thoughts exactly.” Along with reminding herself to stop her useless brooding about Fitz.

“I’ll be here at six. We’ll have a quick supper at the tea shop on the corner before we walk to the hall.” Crossing her fingers behind the screen of her skirts, Sofia smiled and said, “I don’t think you’ll be sorry you went.”

THE LECTURE WAS by turns irritating, amusing, and inspiring.

Thompson spoke first, offering his conventional lecture on women’s role as ordained by God-that of a woman who can sing, dance, draw, walk well into a room, and be the pride of her parents and husband. As a physician and a man of science he also considered it his mission to bring the light of scientific objectivity to the Woman Question. A vast body of research, chiefly of brain weights, head sizes, and facial proportions, proved, he asserted, that women were much lower on the evolutionary scale than men and the differences between the sexes could be expected to widen even further as man evolved and specialized. According to Thompson, the more primitive female role concentrated on her animal function of reproduction, and the controlling influence of the ovaries on every aspect of a woman’s life, was evident in a full range of diseases from irritability to insanity. He spitefully added that the influence of the ovaries over the mind was particularly on display in woman’s artfulness and dissimulation.

After reciting his lengthy list of diseases to which women were prone due to the fact that the Almighty, in creating the female sex, had taken the uterus and built up a woman around it, Thompson concluded that the inequality of the sexes would only increase with the progress of civilization. He urged women to avoid too much reading or mental stimulation or they would risk permanent damage to their reproductive organs and in consequence the grand purpose of their lives: motherhood.

When he finished, he was roundly cheered by his proponents in the audience.

Coming to the podium to a chorus of boos, Maud Warren calmly waited for the catcalls to subside before speaking. She began by suggesting that it might be possible to view doctors’ determination to elaborate the nature of woman, the sources of her frailty, and the biological limits of her social role with a touch of cynicism since this newly discovered ill-health among women was scarcely imagined a hundred years ago. The increased attention to women and their ovaries (or at least those of more affluent women) could instead be the result of doctors functioning as businessman. The vague and all-inclusive symptoms supposedly originating in the ovaries had created a very lucrative new field of medicine.

In practice, Maud pointed out, the same doctors who zealously espoused the ills of wealthy, delicate women had no time to spare for the poor. Someone had to be well enough to do the work, and working-class women, according to these doctors, were not invalids of their ovaries. A very convenient logic, she noted.

The theory of innate female illness predicated on diseased ovaries was skewed to account for class differences with reference to ability to pay, she suggested. Since poor women couldn’t pay for medical care, they were miraculously immune from the popular medical and evolutionary opinions.

Maud thoroughly rejected the sickly model of femininity and offered statistics showing how many women were beginning to carve out activist roles for themselves in society. These new women of robust health and independence were entering the universities in great numbers despite various popular manifestos warning that higher education caused women’s uteruses to atrophy, induced women to insanity, and precipitously lowered the birth rate among college-trained women. She contrasted the thundering warnings of dire consequences to society by offering evidence of women’s significant achievements in colleges and universities, and by so doing, managed to make Thompson apoplectic.

He thundered at her, accusing her of undermining the family and the God-given role of women. He fulminated against the women’s movement that was sapping culture of its strength and destroying all those tender qualities of mind and disposition that make women so noble and admired.

When Thompson and his cohorts ceased their shouting, Maud quietly explained that the Woman Question was not in the end up to men to answer. It was a question of what women want and need and how best they can achieve their goals.

Ultimately, it was about equality between the sexes.

As the hall erupted in opposition cheers and jeers, with a wave to Violet and Christina who were enjoying the confrontation, Rosalind and Sofia slipped out into the summer night.

“I prefer not waiting until the police start arresting people,” Rosalind explained as they exited the hall. “Although Maud is always so composed. I don’t know how she does it. Thompson, in contrast, looks like a lunatic.”

“I agree. I wish I could behave with as much maturity. My temper’s fierce.”

“I’m not sure I’m inclined to admit a failing after Maud’s invigorating lecture, but if I were, my temper could be better controlled, too.” Rosalind smiled. “Not that I’m in the mood for anything but assertive opinions at the moment. Maud’s inspiring.”

“For all her achievements-don’t forget she has a good marriage, a fine family, and a profession,” Sofia observed, concerned Rosalind might be in an overly militant frame of mind to face a possible visitor at home.

“Maud’s lucky.”

“She works hard to balance her priorities.”

“I know, I know-it’s not all luck. She’s an amazing person.”

The night was balmy, the streets still bustling with pedestrians and traffic now that the sultry heat of the day had dissipated.