R Is for Rebel Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’m committed to it.”
    He grabbed her accusatory hand and brought it to his lips; he gave her a courtly kiss on her knuckles. “I apologize, Abigail.”
    She rolled her eyes and tried to pull her hand away.
    â€œPlease forgive me,” he added sincerely.
    â€œWell, that was pretty nice, as apologies go, so I suppose I’ll forgive you. But as you Americans like to say, knock it off with the dismissive eco-talk. You sound like Max on a very bad day.”
    He twined her fingers through his and they resumed walking along the abandoned beach. Eliot started in again. “Okay, something really important and meaningful, that will save the world.”
    She laughed despite herself. “I get it. Yes, I would like to do something that helps people. I don’t intend on being Mother Teresa or anything. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure environmental lobbying is really my strongpoint. I’m more interested in advocating for women’s rights or children or something a bit more to do with humans…” She turned to look up at him. “I sound ridiculous.”
    â€œNo you don’t. I know what you mean. It’s your life. Pick something that actually drives you to distraction, a wrong that you find so patently egregious, that seems so outrageously and flagrantly inconceivable, that you absolutely must do something about it.”
    â€œYou’re not such a brick after all.” She smiled through the words, then her voice fell into a serious dip. “I was just reading an article about a girl who was buried up to her neck by her own father and left to die under the chicken coop behind her house. For kissing a boy. Imagine if she had kissed a girl?” Abby tried to make light of it in a perverse way, but her insides sort of curdled at the insanity. Eliot draped his arm across her shoulder and gave her a supportive squeeze. Her throat tightened and she felt a thick pressure behind her eyes.
    â€œIt’s okay, Abigail.” Eliot leaned in and kissed the top of her head. “You know what you want to do.”
    â€œI suppose I do. I’m just afraid. And guilty.”
    â€œGuilty? What could you possibly be guilty of?”
    â€œIt’s ridiculous I suppose, but here I am, bucking against my mother’s euphemistic criticism of my relationship with Tully, against a maternal raised eyebrow for goodness’ sake, and these women are fighting for their lives, having to run away or be tortured. Who am I to offer my silly, meaningless assistance?”
    â€œI’m not coming to this pity party. Get to London, or Geneva, or wherever and get your ass in gear, Abigail. You’ve spent enough time, as you say, gallivanting, and now you need to get down to the very real business of helping people. Do you want to work for a large organization? Do you want to volunteer on the ground? Do you want to start something yourself?”
    â€œI don’t know… I need help. I have so much… so many resources at my disposal, it’s shameful—”
    â€œAbigail.” Eliot’s voice was impatient.
    â€œAll right, whatever, I’ll leave the rich-guilt at the door—for now—but I mean, I don’t really know where to begin.”
    â€œI know you think I’m a capitalist tool and all that, but Danieli-Fauchard is already involved with several women’s rights organizations. As preposterous as it might sound to you, the history of fashion and women’s rights are happily intertwined. Why don’t you meet with a couple of our contacts in London? I won’t make any heavy-handed phone calls or anything. Have Bronte call if you want. She probably knows everybody already anyway.”
    â€œYou trying to keep an eye on me?” she asked, trying to bristle, but feeling like maybe that would be quite all right.
    â€œI think I’m still fantasizing about you moving to Geneva, but yes, I would settle for an