“And how’s Guy?” Diana asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue since she’d arrived at Granville House. She sat down in the corner of a sofa and looked expectantly at her friend.

“He’s very well,” Petra said, handing her a cup of coffee. “At least he was earlier this morning. Right now he’s closeted in his office with his secretary. Some parliamentary business that Freddie’s anxious about. Freddie’s Guy’s secretary,” she added. “He’s a very earnest young man who’s always wanting Guy to write another article on some national issue or other for the Times, or give a speech in the Lords, or propose or support some bill or other. He was waiting with a sheaf of papers for Guy to deal with almost before we walked into the house. Poor Guy barely had time to take his coat off.”

“I’m guessing you found that annoying,” Diana said shrewdly, sipping her coffee.

“Somewhat,” Petra responded caustically.

Diana laughed. “But truly, darling, what’s it like being married to Guy . . . being Lady Ashton.”

Petra’s flash of irritation vanished. She smiled slowly. “Well, so far it’s wonderful. Guy’s sister and her family were lovely, very welcoming, and Guy and I didn’t quarrel once the whole month.”

Diana raised her eyebrows, “How did you manage that?”

Petra shook her head. “Quite honestly I don’t know. There was never anything to fall out about. But it can’t last,” she added. “Not once real life takes over.”

“That’s probably true,” her friend agreed. “And on the subject of real life, there’s a meeting of the WSPU this evening at Caxton Hall. Can you be there? There’s a lot of talk now about getting up a march on Parliament, maybe even into St. Stephen’s Hall itself.” She grimaced. “If it goes onto hallowed ground it’ll certainly set the cat among the pigeons.”

Petra frowned. “That’s taking a big step forward. It’s one thing to assemble peacefully in Parliament Square, quite another to invade Parliament itself.” She couldn’t imagine how Guy would react to such a proposition. Or rather, she could, and it was not a pretty image. Even Jonathan would be dismayed to think of his sister participating in such an event.

“Yes, it is,” Diana agreed, “but there are some members who are getting restless. They feel we’re not getting anywhere with what we’ve done so far. Sedate protest marches, speeches at Hyde Park Corner, publishing leaflets, they feel it’s too passive.”

“Part of me sees their point,” Petra said, setting aside her empty coffee cup. “But part of me doesn’t like the idea of anything too extreme.”

“Well, will you come tonight? It might help to clear all our heads if we listen to all opinions.”