Page 20 of Highland Jewel
“A great deal.”
Maisie wasn’t about to repeat anything of the long, heartfelt conversations that had passed between them. Fiona had been married and was now a widow. She was the mother of two lovely children. Her late husband was a decorated veteran of the Peninsular Campaign against Napoleon. Fiona had also admitted that she’d be in difficult financial straits if it weren’t for her brother’s generosity.
“I know how hard she’s worked all her life. Also, I know she refuses to accept that any man is by nature superior to a woman.”
“Those who suffer will rise.” Niall looked at an oyster-monger carrying her empty basket across High Street. The woman had the stub of a clay pipe in her mouth, and she was trudging toward New Town, no doubt en route to Leith.
He turned his attention back to her. “Fiona and I were brought up to believe that injustice leads to action. When a wrong exists, a person has a responsibility to act. Perhaps you already know this, but my sister and I were raised by hardworking parents. Nothing came easy. Fiona’s fight is reasonable to me because of what she’s seen and experienced. But you, from what I see, have led a very different life.”
“So you think my upbringing has been one of privilege?”
“I don’t know much about your past, but I believe it was far superior to Fiona’s.” Niall took off his hat and knocked the dusting of snow off of it. “Your sister and her husband are both doctors. He is well connected withthe university. I heard your father was a respected physician as well.”
Isabella continued to practice medicine because of her hard work, brilliance, and courage. The journey had not been an easy one for her. But Maisie didn’t want to get distracted with a discussion of the family profession and privilege. The life of an academic, in Wurzburg or anywhere else, was never intended to support a family in luxury. When her father died, the estate he left was small. They couldn’t have lived on it for long. Maisie knew that was why her sister married Archibald. That and the opportunity to practice medicine in his infirmary in Edinburgh.
“Do you truly believe that a person must suffer abuse and poverty to recognize it in the world?”
“For most people.”
“Exactly how much suffering must a person endure in order to be qualified to raise her voice in protest?”
This time, he said nothing.
“The prejudice that enslaves a woman makes little distinction between the poor and the rich. We have many obligations and few choices. We are controlled completely by the men in our lives.” She took a breath and forced herself to maintain a reasonable tone.
His silence gave her all the encouragement she needed.
“The men in our lives,” she repeated. “Our fathers, our brothers, and our male relatives. Later by our husbands. All across Europe, a woman’s sole purpose in life is to serve men. From a very young age, we are trained to find a husband. Society and the Church direct us to produce an heir—or for our bodies to labor in the fields, depending on which social strata we were fortunate enough to be born to—and then to spend the rest of our lives silently carrying out the wishes of our master.”
He didn’t contradict what she said, so she continued.
“Whenever the Crown decides to levy taxes, women of property must pay taxes, just as men do. But we, in contrast, have no say in how that money is spent. Laws are made by the men in Parliament for all to obey. And yet no female is allowed to hold a seat in Westminster. Reason and justice dictate that everyone should take part in the making of those laws.”
Maisie could see that they were drawing stares from passersby, and they started down the wider but more crowded sidewalk of South Bridge.
“Do you believe that women and men are the same?”
There was no hint of admonishment in his tone. It was simply a question. She also noticed that she had taken his arm without thinking, and it felt as natural as breathing.
She considered his question for a moment. “I believe that men and women have different tendencies. Whether they are natural or learned, however, I can’t say. But what I see in the world is that women are more loving and nurturing, and we have higher moral standards. Would you agree with that?”
“I would.”
“Good. Because I believe that women should have a voice in our own government because of those differences. Women bring something to the service of the state which is very different from that which can be brought by men.” She stole a glance at his face and found him listening intently. “It’s only logical that when equal citizenship is extended to women, including the vote, the tone of public debate will be elevated for everyone. When government is more interested in nurturing than in punishing, a nation becomes stronger.”
These words were similar to those she’d been writing in her articles and speaking in their small gatherings.This was the first time she’d ever said them to a man. At least Niall didn’t run away screaming or go searching for a constable.
“You were looking for a short answer, and I delivered a lecture.”
He shook his head and smiled. “I’m impressed.”
“By what I said?”
“And by you.”
The back of their hands brushed. Her fingers were cold, his hand was warm. She wondered what it would feel like to entwine her fingers with his, to absorb the heat.
The sidewalk and the street were coated with snow, and the effect of the streetlamps was magical. She was only about a block away from the house. She wished Infirmary Street were miles away.
