The Senator and the Student

"You are adorable when you come," she whispered in his ear as she hovered over him for a triumphant kiss. "Don't ever change that."

"If you say so!" He laughed -- almost a girlish giggle. "Thank you, Rebecca."

"Do you feel equal now?"

"And how!" He was still struggling to get his laugh under control.

"What on earth is so funny?" Rebecca asked.

"Well, darling, for all your talk about equality, how many times did you come and how many did I?"

Rebecca laughed with him. "Consider that a reflection of your own talent, my dear!"

And soon they were asleep, drunk with affection and utterly fearless of the road ahead.

At Rebecca's insistence, Chester spent Sunday morning studying at her desk. "I can have Guy drive you back this afternoon, or you can even stay for dinner if you like," she said as she got dressed for her first full day of campaigning, while Chester watched from her bed. "I hate to think of the trouble it must be for you to study on campus just now."

"Too true," Chester confessed. "But are you sure you'll be home from campaigning in time for dinner?"

"Fair point," Rebecca agreed. Martha had sensibly scheduled the farthest, most rural reaches of her district for the first day. She was glad to be getting the least friendly precincts out of the way first, but it would be a long day. "I don't want poor Guy getting stuck in the snow on the way back if it's past dark, either," she added.

"Speaking of Guy, Rebecca...how long has he been working here?"

"Since I married Melvin," she said. "He came highly recommended by Melvin's mother, actually. Why?"

"It's none of my business, but I had a rather disagreeable conversation with him on the way back to school last week."

"Oh, Chester, I know Guy's an anti-suffragist!" Rebecca said. "I was appalled myself, when I learned that, but he is entitled to his opinion. I could have a chat with him if he made you feel uncomfortable..."

"No, that's all right," Chester said. "Good debate practice, even, and I certainly need that these days. I was just surprised that of all the women he could be working for..."

"That is ironic, now, isn't it?" Rebecca pulled her gloves on and gathered up her belongings from the dresser. "But some men are bound to aborb the message that they're inferior, I suppose. Now then, a kiss for luck, please, and off with you to the study!"

Chester threw his arms around her and they shared a deep, passionate kiss, and she helped herself to a playful rub on the front of his trousers. "I can hardly wait for next weekend already!" she teased.

"You and me both!" Chester turned and gathered up his books off the floor by the window where he'd left them yesterday.

"Just ring for Guy for lunch, and when you're ready to leave," she told him as she walked him down the hall to her study. "I've let him know he's at your disposal for the day."

"I can just imagine how much he likes answering to a man," Chester quipped.

"Yes, well, enjoy that!" One final peck on the cheek at the study door, and she was off downstairs, where Martha was waiting just inside the front door.

They took a carriage for hire to the train station, and then caught the next train to Koonley, the last village on the line in her district. "Wheat prices are up a bit from last year," Martha advised her as the train pulled out of Laucester. "That ought to buy you some goodwill, but I wouldn't count on it overcoming the farmers' distaste for your romantic intrigue."

"Yes, well, I seem to recall we were utterly buried in Koonley last time, and I still won," Rebecca said. "I shouldn't panic if I'm still not terribly popular there."

"We're going to need every vote we can get, Senator," Martha said. "And remember, men definitely won't be able to vote this time, if ever."

Koonley proper had a dozen or so houses flanking the village green. Rebecca was relieved in spite of herself when the first two doors she knocked on went unanswered. The third one opened at her knock to reveal a middle-aged man in his church clothes. "Senator Wharton!" he said. "Welcome!"

"Why thank you, Mister..."

"Clanton," he said, shaking her hand. "Henry Clanton. Thank you so much for your work on suffrage. You'd certainly have my vote if...well, you know."

"I know all too well," Rebecca said. "That only shows you what we're up against, doesn't it?"

She didn't want to have to bring up the uncomfortable reality that it was only Mrs. Clanton whose opinion mattered just now. Fortunately, Mrs. Clanton stepped up behind her husband while they were chatting. "Senator, hello!" she said. "Bloody shame you've got to be out here on the hustings just before Christmas, but I think you'll find you're a sight more popular this time around. The wheat prices have the farmers quite happy."

"And when they're happy, we're happy," Added Mr. Clanton. "I work at the bakery and we've been selling plenty of bread and cakes."

"I only have one concern, Senator," Mrs. Clanton said. "It's none of our business I know, but this Chester lad...is it really fair to drag him into the world of politics?"

"Well, I'm doing my best not to," Rebecca said. "We are in love, and it's got nothing to do with politics."

"I feel like I ought to warn you, that's not what everyone's saying at the bakery," Mr. Clanton said.

"It won't affect my vote," Mrs. Clanton said, "But I don't know about some of the farmers. They're pretty old fashioned out here."

"Didn't I warn you?" Martha said as they trudged through the snow to the next house.

"Warn me about what?" Rebecca said. "She's voting for me."

"You heard what else she said!" Martha hissed.

The next two houses brought similar reactions -- each woman said she would vote for Rebecca but she wasn't so sure about her friends -- while two more brought polite but firm declarations of opposition to male suffrage. In just over an hour, they had completed their round of the green and spoken to everyone who had come to the door. Although not quite half had been willing to say they would vote for Rebecca, not a single woman declined to do so because of Chester.

"There you are," Rebecca said with a champion's flair as they retreated from the final house. "The only women not voting for me are the ones who wouldn't vote for any Egalitarian."

"Or they're just too polite to tell you the real reason."

"I don't believe anyone who would base her vote on the candidate's private business would be that polite."

Martha chuckled. "That is why I love working for you even if I don't agree with you on your favourite issue," Martha said. "You are ever so idealistic."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"Very."

They rented a carriage at the railway station, and spent the next few hours touring the farms just inside the district lines. The first stop was a vindication for Martha and an awakening for Rebecca. "I appreciate your efforts with the wheat sales," said the lady of the house. "But that poor young man, Senator. And who wants to think about politics this close to the holidays anyway?"

"It wasn't my choice either," Rebecca said. "But might I ask what your husband and your sons think of gaining the vote?"

"Oh, of course they want it, but where would that leave me? We're a conservative community, Senator, and we don't need you imposing your bizarre values on us. I do thank you for your advocacy on the wheat prices, but I've always voted for Gwen Rollins and I shall do so again."

"Well, thank you for your --" Rebecca began, only to have the door slammed in her face.

"I should expect plenty more where that came from," Martha said as they returned to their carriage.

"Well, they only get one vote each," Rebecca said.

They visited five more farms ringing the outskirts of Koonley. Only one of the women they met voiced support for Rebecca, but that one woman did report that she had a daughter at university who would also be voting for her. "She loves having boys at school, to tell you the truth," she told Rebecca.

"That's probably two more votes than I got from out here last time," Rebecca mused as they headed back into town. When Martha said nothing in response, she said, "Oh, come on, Martha, you know this was a decent start!"

"Yes," Martha said. "Yes, I suppose I do."

They had just enough time to visit the farms on the other side of Koonley before the winter sun began to sink. Rebecca procured one more vote from there, and two more tongue-lashings about robbing the cradle, before they were finally free to return the carriage and catch the evening train back to Laucester. "I can't wait to tell Chester how well received we were," Rebecca said as they waited alone on the tiny platform.

"Well received!" Martha snorted. "Didn't you hear what that last woman said about not wanting a senator who'd muck around with a stableboy?"

"She sounded an awful lot like someone who would otherwise vote Egalitarian, didn't she?" Rebecca retorted.

"Not the point."

"Of course it is, Martha. The only people who are bothered by the man I love are those who would never vote for me anyway. And tell me, did we get any votes at all from the farms last time?"

"You only got two votes from all Koonley, and I always assumed they were from the town," Martha admitted. "So yes, you've made some headway. But for an incumbent senator in a strong economy..."

"Yes, yes, some people are afraid of change," Rebecca said. "But if they win, then it's a good job to lose."

Martha had the decency to fall asleep on the train, so Rebecca was left alone with her thoughts all the way back to Laucester. She got a number of smiles and waves from others who knew who she was, but none wanted to wake her companion, she supposed. It was well past dark when the train pulled in to the station, and Rebecca almost hated to shake Martha awake. "Sorry, but I don't want to have to carry you out to our carriage," she quipped.

"Yes, of course," Martha said.

Guy was waiting outside the station to drive them home, where Martha would be spending the night in the guestroom. "Welcome home, Senator," he said, adding "Ma'am" with a tip of his hat to Martha.

"Thank you, Guy." Rebecca let Martha climb in first, then followed suit.

Once they were on their way, Rebecca remembered Chester's comments that morning. "Guy," she said. "Might I ask how your driving Chester back to university this afternoon went?"

"It went too quietly, that's how," Guy said. "Couldn't get a peep out of the poor fellow. Hope he's coping all right with everything. You know the press is out in full force again. Robert told them you were away, but they stayed all afternoon. Probably hoping for a glimpse of the poor boy."

"I trust they did not get one," Rebecca said.

"I took the back way again," Guy said. "Can't promise no one figured that out, but I certainly didn't stop for them."

"I see."

"There a problem, Senator?"

"No, Guy. Thank you." Rebecca had many more things she felt like saying to Guy, but she didn't want Martha hearing any of them.

"The press ladies are gone now, anyway," Guy said. "I was afraid they'd be hanging around until all hours to get a quote from you about something or other, but when I got back from dropping Chester off they were gone."

"That's good," Rebecca said, and for once Martha agreed with her.

On that point, though, they were both quite wrong.

Martha, always a step ahead of her boss, was up at dawn. Once she was washed and dressed, it was downstairs for a strong cup of tea before heading out in the field again. The next stop up the railway from Koonley was Warkon, a slightly larger town with a wheat processing plant where most of the men in town lived. Rebecca's first bill passed through Parliament had provided for a living wage and better conditions for the plant workers; little doubt their wives would be happy to see her.

The look on Esther's face when Martha stepped into the parlour was enough to disabuse her of that optimism all at once. "Terribly sorry, ma'am," Esther stammered. "I've told the reporters outside that the senator doesn't even know the news yet, but they won't listen!"

"Doesn't even know what news?" Martha's heart flopped as she was suddenly aware of a great clamour out the front window. She didn't dare pull back the curtains, but she could guess what she could expect to see there.

"Oh, you haven't heard either of course!" Esther said. "I'm dreadful sorry to be the one to break it to you, ma'am, but..." Her voice trailed away and she picked up the day's Laucester Beacon and handed it to Martha. "Please don't shoot the messenger, ma'am!"

Martha read the headline, and felt her whole constitution crumble in slow motion. "I shan't, Esther," she managed to say. "It's Rebecca I want to shoot."

Chester had taken to not reading the paper, so he could honestly say he didn't know what the press vultures were after him about this time around. So he didn't know why Alice looked sad when she arrived at his door that morning to escort him to class. "Would you rather not go today?" she asked. "I'm sure Professor Jordan would understand."

"I don't know what you're talking about and I don't want to," Chester said, with a confidence that was only partially feigned -- he had learned to stand on his own two feet a lot more readily of late.

"Chester, I think you should know." Alice held her hand up to block him from leaving the room. "It's worse this time. I'd hope Senator Wharton would come talk to you, actually, and there's even a rumour that she might. Everyone's been asking me if I know, as if she would tell me first!"

"Alice, what on earth could be that bad?" Chester was panicked now, though he did his best to hide it. "Oh, heavens, has something happened to Sarah? Even those damn reporters wouldn't harass us over that!"

"Sarah, is that her daughter?" Alice asked. "No, she's fine. It's...I mean, Chester, have you and the senator talked about having another baby?"

"What?!" Chester felt like someone had shoved him back on his heels. "No, of course not! I've got my degree to finish and she just might be premier pretty soon. Is that what those bitches in the press are rumourmongering about now?"

"It's not a rumour, I'm afraid." Alice pulled a newspaper out of her satchel. "It's from Senator Wharton herself." She handed it to Chester, and watched his face glaze over as he read about Rebecca's intercepted note, which was addressed to him.

My dearest Chester,

I scarcely know how to tell you this, but I think our plans for a new beginning may have been placed on a fast track. I am nine days 'late' and I don't mean with a homework assignment. I know this is no time to burden you with such news, but I cannot very well hide the news indefinitely!

We do have options, of course. But it is imperative that we make a decision together regarding those options before anyone else knows. I am sure you join me in not wanting this to affect the elections in any way, after all. I likely will not be 'showing' by then, because -

Chester read on, about how the note was torn and the Beacon hadn't procured the portion of it that came after the "because". But he could barely make his way through it as his eyes welled up with tears of rage.

"When was she going to tell me?!" he demanded of no one in particular.

"Maybe she was hoping it was a false alarm," Alice offered. "Late periods happen all the time. I skipped one entirely a few months ago. Besides, it sounds like she was going to tell you."

"Who the hell got the note instead?" Chester scanned the article for a source.

"They don't say. 'A confidential source' is all it says. Now, do you want to stay here, Chester?"

"I don't know what I want," Chester said, handing back the paper. "But I won't cower in the corner like a wounded puppy. Let's get to class."

A clutch of other supporters -- Chester was gratified to see half of them were women -- were waiting by the dormitory door to help shield him from the reporters. With a quiet thank-you, Chester huddled in between them as they stepped outside. But the reporters weren't fooled, and he had to put up with a maelstrom of rude questions about timelines and whether he wanted Rebecca to keep it and worse. Professor Jordan, a proud Egalitarian, welcomed him to class with a sympathetic smile and a stern warning to the other students that Chester's private life was none of their business. But even she couldn't do anything about the numerous smirks and snickers and dirty looks he had to ignore.

By the time class was over, Chester had reached a heartbreaking decision. No one, not even Alice, needed to know about that just yet. With his mind reluctantly made up, he found the shower of insults and inappropriate questions a bit easier to ignore on his way back to his room. At least now he felt prepared for that.

He was not, however, prepared for the sight that greeted him in the dormitory lounge when he and Alice stepped inside. "M-Mother!" he stammered, as Winnifred stood up from an armchair by the fireplace where she'd been chatting with a few of Chester's anti-suffragist classmates.

"Mrs. Croft," Alice said with an awkward curtsey.

"Alice, may I have a word alone with my son?" Winnifred asked in a tone that made it clear it wasn't really a question.

"Of course!" Alice said. "Chester, I'll be in my room if you want to go to lunch later."

"Thanks." Chester couldn't make eye contact with his mother as he watched his friend and his nemeses clear out of the room.

"Chester Morgan Croft, how could you!" Winnifred hissed in his face as soon as they were alone. "How could you bring such shame upon us?"

"I didn't know!" Chester exclaimed. "I never got that note! This was the first I'd heard of it!"

"Oh, I know that!" Winnifred snapped. "But you knew this could happen when you went to Rebecca's bed! If you must be a little slut, you know there are protections available!"

"No thanks to you, but yes, I know that," Chester said. "And we did take precautions!"

"Every time?"

"There've only been...wait a minute!" Chester felt the first taste of relief since Alice had shown him the newspaper. "It couldn't be me. We've only done it...well, the timing just doesn't match up."

"Doesn't match up," Winnifred mimicked. "Just what do you know about a woman's cycles?"

"I know enough to know it can't be mine. We...didn't do it enough times, or long ago enough."

"Just how many times have you slept with that bitch, Chester?"

Chester glared at his mother. "None of your business."

He felt the sting coming, but that didn't lesson the ferocious force as she slapped him across the face. "Talk to me like that, will you, you little bastard! Do you want a home to come home to at Christmas?!"

"Not in particular if you're going to treat me like that," Chester said, rubbing his cheek and blinking back tears. "But I'm telling you, Mother, it can't be mine!"

"Then she's been whoring around with other men," Winnifred grumbled. "That figures. But she's allowed your name to be dragged through the mud." She grabbed up her coat from the chair by the fire and turned to go. "I am relieved to hear you're not the father," she said. "But you'd best find someplace else to spend your Christmas holidays! Good bye, Chester!"

As she stepped outside, Chester was aware for the first time of a clutch of reporters standing at the window. They had obviously witnessed the altercation and seen his mother hit him. Chester didn't care, nor did he care about Mother's threat to turn him away at Christmas; it wasn't the first time she'd done that. Nor did Mother need to know of the decision he'd already made back in class, which was a much easier decision to live with now that he'd realized the baby couldn't be his.

His heart was as empty as the winter sky as he stepped back outside on his own, for the first time in weeks, and made no move to avoid the vultures with their cameras and notepads. He held up his arms to quiet the barrage of questions that were always coming his way. "I have two things to announce!" he called out to them; and they all fell silent to get the scoop.