“Sometimes it’s a last resort,” Christabel stated. “Let’s get started.” She raised her poster high above her head, gestured with her free hand to the group around her and set off toward Westminster. Gradually the throng fell in behind them and the mass of women processed to the Houses of Parliament, chanting and singing, drawing a crowd of spectators as they went.

A small police force was assembled in Parliament Square. The WSPU had marched peacefully many times to the doors of Parliament and presented several petitions at St. Stephen’s door, all of which had been refused by the sergeant at arms, and there was no reason to assume this protest would be any different. Until Emmeline and Christabel hammered on St. Stephen’s door and as soon as it was opened pushed forward, brandishing their posters, the crowd surging behind them in a tidal wave of chanting women that drove back the sergeant at arms and his own small group of parliamentary officers.

The crowd of women poured into St. Stephen’s Hall, with sheer force of numbers pushing through the men trying to form a barricade. From there they stormed the Central Lobby, which stood midway between the Commons and the Lords at the heart of the Houses of Parliament. They stood on chairs and benches, waving the banners, shouting their demands for “Freedom” and “Votes For Women”.

Petra lost sight of Diana and Fenella in the crush. She was concentrating on keeping her own footing in the melee even as she struggled to keep her poster aloft. There were more policemen now and they were seizing women, hauling them off chairs, carrying them toward the open doors, almost throwing them out into the square.

* * *

Guy was sitting in the salon of the House of Lords, drinking coffee and reading the Times, when he noticed a stirring of the generally peaceful, almost sacrosanct air of the paneled room. A footman hurried in and murmured something to the barman, who murmured something to the Duke of Mortby, sitting at the bar nursing a glass. The duke sat up abruptly, turned on his stool, saw Guy and came over.

“Granville, heard the commotion?”

“What commotion?”

“Something in Central Lobby. Women all over, I gather, shouting and makin’ nuisances of themselves. Positive disgrace. Police involved and all sorts.”

Guy closed his eyes briefly on a wave of frustration. How had Freddie got it so wrong? Why had he himself been so complacent as to let this happen? He’d been warned and he could have wrung the truth out of Petra. Now he had no doubts at all that his wife was somewhere in the commotion in Central Lobby.