("Why didn't I tell Louise not to say anything?")"I want you to teach us so we can teach others."I glanced at her and raised my eyebrows, "You want me to be hung? Can you imagine what their husbands or brothers would say if they saw me doing that?"She just waved her hand as if she was telling a joke, "Don't worry. The women you will teach are discrete and won't talk." She smiled as if she knew a wonderful joke.I turned to face her and said bluntly, "Why?"Just as bluntly she answered, "I'm tired of seeing young women thought of as nothing but a punching pillow for their husbands or male relatives. Our group believes that women are more than baby machines or beasts of burden. We want what your wives tell us they have from you, equality!"I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I was getting caught up in a secret woman's conspiracy for equal rights in 1847? I couldn't think of anything that would change history more. And who was this group?(Author's note: This was the time period (1848). “Come again?” His feigned nonchalance did not work. The expression of bewilderment on his face laid bare his inability to recall precisely what did happen at the party. He could feel his synthetic confidence ebbing away from him and it was written all over his face. “I was with my friends the whole time, they can vouch for me.” “Rory, when I go for a piss, I don’t expect to hear two people rutting in the cubicle next to me!” The heat in his face was burning now; drops of perspiration were forming on his brow. “And I know you were there because we do not have anyone else called Rory working here.” If the ground could swallow him up now, the word ‘Geronimo’ sprang to mind. “So Rory? Is this acceptable?” She expected a reply. “Erm, sorry Cass. I was a bit out of it and I’m struggling to piece together what happened.” “You address me as Cassandra.” “Sorry Cassandra.” “I see. Well, that leads me onto something else.” He expected the worst; it would be dismissal as there were standards,.
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