Love is Triumphant Read online

  As she descended from the carriage and approached the front door, something made her turn and look towards the end of the street.

  She gasped.

  For an instant she had almost imagined that she saw Arthur Woodward standing there, glaring at her.

  But the place where she had seen him was empty. She must have imagined it. Then the butler opened the front door and she went inside.

  'I'm beginning to imagine things,' she told herself. 'It's Sir John's fault, trying to make me afraid when there's no need. This is my night of triumph, and nothing is going to spoil it. But it's a pity he isn't here to see it.'

  These days Sir Elroy was staying later and later at the House of Commons and it was clear that matters were coming to a head.

  "The Reform Bill is in its final stages," he told his wife and daughter one evening. "As soon as it's passed, Parliament can be dissolved, and we can really concentrate on the election."

  Time seemed to drag on forever, and still Sir John did not return. Rosina was surprised to realise that he had only been away for two weeks, since it felt like months.

  One evening she and Mama returned home very late from an evening where she had been the belle of the ball. Lady Clarendon was in ecstasies over her daughter's success.

  "But I must just put you on your guard my love. You gave three dances to the Hon. David Conroy, who, after all, is only a younger son."

  "But he makes me laugh, Mama."

  "Ah, yes!" Lady Clarendon sighed. "Your Papa used to make me laugh when we first met. Sometimes he still does. I know how attractive it can be. But still – a younger son."

  "I suppose younger sons must marry somebody," Rosina observed.

  "But there is no need for them to marry you," her Mama said, dismayed by the turn the conversation was taking.

  "I wonder when Sir John will return to London," Rosina said in a carefully indifferent voice. "With matters moving so fast in Parliament, surely his place is here?"

  "I'm sure Sir John knows his own business best," Lady Clarendon said.

  "He's also supposed to consider Papa. He ought to be here," Rosina said crossly.

  "Well, I expect he'll return soon."

  This time Rosina said nothing, but her fingers tapped nervously on her reticule.

  When they reached home Lady Clarendon went into her husband's study, while Rosina picked up some invitations that had arrived while she was out, and lay on the hall table.

  She glanced up as her mother returned, saying,

  "Well Sir John has returned, so I hope you'll be satisfied now."

  "He's here?"

  "Yes, he's in the library with your Papa. They're working very hard. I told them what a great success you'd been tonight, and they said to give you their congratulations, and apologise for not saying goodnight to you, but they are so busy."

  "I wouldn't dream of disturbing either of them, Mama. Goodnight."

  She kissed her mother and hurried up the stairs to her room, where she closed the door a little too sharply.

  *

  The following morning Rosina endured an awkward meeting with her father, who had summoned her into his study.

  "My dear, whatever have you been up to?" he asked.

  "What do you mean, Papa?"

  "I've heard such disturbing stories – about Arthur Woodward and a teacher at your school called Miss Draycott. And you knew all about him and have been – I scarcely dare to say the word – blackmailing him?"

  So Sir John had told Papa all about it. At that moment Rosina felt that she hated him.

  "I knew that he had behaved badly Papa, and was behaving badly again. So I stopped him."

  "Without confiding in your parents? Good grief, I never heard such – "

  He stopped as the door opened and Sir John entered.

  "I'm sorry to disturb you," he said, "but that package has arrived."

  He handed over a large envelope, which Sir Elroy seized eagerly.

  "Thank you, John. Leave me now. We'll talk later."

  Rosina swept out of the door, followed by Sir John, who closed it behind them.

  At once she turned on him.

  "I wouldn't have thought it of you," she said bitterly.

  "Thought what of me?"

  "You betrayed me to Papa. You broke your word."

  "Never. If you mean the letters, I gave no promise about them."

  "And so you told him everything."

  "I swear that I did not. How can you think such a thing of me?"

  "He knows all about it. He just said to me – oh, the same sort of things that you said."

  "They are things that any man must say when he thinks that you are in danger. Can't you understand that?"

  "You told Papa," she said stubbornly.

  "Did he say so?"

  "He didn't get the chance, but when I next see him I shall ask him – "

  "And get me thrown out of the house," he said wryly.

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "I didn't say anything about Woodward, but if you inform him that I knew, he's going to be annoyed with me for not telling him. I should have done so, of course. So, if you want to do me a bad turn, go ahead."

  Rosina glared at him sulphurously.

  At that moment the door opened and Sir Elroy emerged. He looked askance at Rosina.

  "We'll talk some more on that matter later," he said.

  "Yes Papa, but will you tell me how you knew about it?"

  "Why, Lord Blakemore told me, of course. I asked why he'd withdrawn his patronage of Woodward, and he explained what he'd discovered, with your help. Why? Who else could it possibly have been?"

  "Nobody Papa. I wasn't thinking. I'll leave you two now, because I'm sure you have much to discuss."

  She fled. She was blushing all over at the injustice she had done to Sir John. How could she have been guilty of such a terrible thing?

  That afternoon a dressmaker called with the gown,

  made of shimmering blue satin, that she was to wear that night. On her feet she wore dainty silver sandals, and her head was adorned with Mama's diamonds.

  She knew she was a vision of beauty, but for some reason she could take no pleasure in it. She couldn't be happy until she had seen Sir John and apologised.

  Mama would not be coming tonight, as the Blakemores were collecting her. When she heard the carriage arrive outside, she began to descend the stairs slowly.

  As she came around the curve in the stairs she saw Sir John standing in the hall below. He wore white tie and tails, as though he was going to the ball.

  He looked up and saw her.

  Then he grew very still.

  There was a look in his eyes as they rested on her that made Rosina's spirits soar. He watched as she descended, then reached out to take her hand as she took the last step onto the floor. She waited for him to speak, but he did not. He seemed transfixed by the sight of her.

  At last he spoke.

  "Rosina," he said softly. "Rosina – "

  Her heart was beating too hard for her to speak. She wanted to say something, but no words would be enough to answer what she saw in his eyes.

  The world seemed to stop.

  "My dear, are you ready?"

  The sound of her mother's voice broke the spell.

  She came out of her dream and returned to the present. It seemed to be the same with him.

  "Yes, Mama," she called, drawing back from him.

  Lady Clarendon appeared in the hall, in a flurry of

  agitation.

  "The carriage is here. Sir John will go with you, he is also invited. Enjoy yourselves, both of you."

  The butler was opening the front door. Sir John offered her his arm. Rosina took it and they swept out together.

  The magic moment was over.

  She still had much to say to him, but now it was impossible. Sitting in the carriage with the Blakemores, they could speak of nothing but trivialities.

  But the chance would come at the ba
ll, she thought. He would ask her to dance and they could talk then.

  But he never did ask her. He danced with Lady Doreen once, with Lettice Holden twice and with every other beauty in the room, it seemed to Rosina. But he never once approached her and, in fact, left the ball early, saying that he had urgent papers to read.

  To Rosina it sounded like a feeble excuse.

  Later that evening the Blakemore coach dropped her at home, then went on with Lady Doreen.

  As Rosina entered the house her mother opened the door to the library, beckoning her, and Rosina went in.

  "Was it a good evening?" Mama asked. "Did anything happen?"

  By 'anything' she meant a proposal.

  "Lord Senwick made me an offer, Mama," Rosina said listlessly.

  Lady Clarendon's hands flew to her mouth.

  "You are engaged to Lord Senwick?"

  At that moment Rosina became aware that her father and Sir John were in the room, listening.

  "Oh no, Mama. I refused him."

  Lady Clarendon gave a little scream.

  "You turned him down? Without consulting your father or me?"

  "He's a rather stupid man. When I try to talk politics he says he wouldn't dream of burdening a lady's head with anything so dreary. Honestly, what can you say to such stuff?"

  "Nothing at all," Sir John said cheerfully. "He is clearly beyond redemption."

  Lady Clarendon ignored this.

  "But you rejected him without consulting your parents," she repeated, trying to make her stubborn daughter understand the enormity of her offence.

  "But I don't want to marry him, Mama."

  "What has that to do with anything?"

  Rosina saw that Sir John was regarding her satirically. Against her will, her lips twitched.

  "I thought it might have a little to do with it," she said mildly.

  "You know very well what I mean. He's an Earl."

  "Well, he's a very stupid Earl."

  "My dear child, you're looking at this in quite the wrong way. His brains, or the lack of them, are totally irrelevant."

  Rosina's eyes met Sir John's and read in them a wicked humour that matched her own.

  "How very fortunate for him!" she murmured.

  "If we all started demanding intelligence in a man before we could marry him, what would the world come to?"

  "Nothing. The human race would die out," Rosina said mischievously.

  Her father gave a choke of laughter. Instantly his lady

  turned on him.

  "Have you nothing to say to your daughter, sir?"

  "Yes, I'd like to commend her for refusing a stupid man."

  "You're as bad as she is," his lady informed him.

  "Surely not, ma'am," Sir John said, shocked.

  Lady Clarendon dismissed this as a mere pleasantry, but Rosina knew better. Sir John, wicked creature that he was, had meant that nobody was as bad as herself. She threw him a wry look to show that she fully comprehended, and he grinned back.

  Of course she understood him, as he understood her. Despite their differences, they could read each other's minds, and would always be able to do so.

  Even when they were old and grey, she realised, they would still share that perfect sympathy of mind that was as strong as love. So strong, in fact, that it would be there even when they were married to other people.

  For some reason she felt depressed.

  *

  Next day she sought out Sir John.

  "I want to apologise to you for the wicked things I said. I should have known you wouldn't betray me."

  "Yes, I think you should have known that," he said with gentle reproach.

  "I'm sorry. Are we friends again?"

  She held out her hand. After a moment he shook it.

  "Friends," he said.

  She felt disappointed. Somehow she had expected more, but she could not have said what.

  "So what exactly has happened to Arthur Woodward?"

  he asked. "I've heard rumours, but I haven't liked to ask questions of anyone but you.

  "He is no longer the candidate for South Gradley. Lord Blakemore saw to that," Sir John added.

  "How?"

  "He simply withdrew his support and Mr. Woodward was finished."

  "And no doubt that satisfies you?"

  "It delights me."

  "Rosina, do you really think that's how things should be done?"

  "With a man like him, yes."

  "But with another man? One who wasn't guilty?"

  She frowned.

  "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying that Lord Blakemore raised his eyebrow and everyone hastened to do his bidding. And that is wrong. It doesn't seem wrong in this case because we know Woodward is a bad character, but can it be right that one man should have so much power? Especially when it's exercised behind the scenes?"

  "But so much is done behind the scenes," Rosina protested. "Much of it could not be done at all otherwise. I'm not sorry that it's happened. How else could he have been defeated without a scandal?"

  "I understand that, but – "

  "I don't think you do. You're a man and men can fight openly, but women can't."

  "Of course but – "

  "We have to seize on every weapon we can find, even if it's not very satisfactory. That's why I went to war against that man in the way I did, and why I'd do it again. What are you smiling at?"

  "I was thinking that poor Senwick had a lucky escape. Fancy imagining politics were too heavy for your brain. You almost make me believe in reincarnation."

  "I don't understand that."

  "Clearly, in another life you were Joan of Arc."

  "Yes, you'd like to see me burnt at the stake, wouldn't you? It would shut me up."

  "I can't think of anything else that would," he said darkly.

  "You're right. Nothing will ever silence me. Politics concerns women as much as men. You ought to understand that but in some ways I think you're as bad as Lord Senwick. Yes, I want women to have the vote. Yes, I want to see us in Parliament, and one day it will happen."

  "I look forward to seeing that – "

  "Do not patronise me, sir."

  "I didn't – "

  "Yes, you did. I know that tone, the one that says 'Here she goes again, dreaming impossible dreams.' But I only want women to be able to defend themselves against unscrupulous men, and I will do anything to achieve it. You, I think, would do anything to prevent it."

  "That's grossly unfair – "

  "Hah!"

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means Hah!"

  "It means you've run out of arguments," he said hotly. "When you've nothing left to say, sneer at your opponent. Great heaven, Rosina! I'd almost like to see you in a Parliamentary debate. You'd wipe the floor with some men I could think of."

  "Now you're patronising me again."

  "Can I say nothing right?" Sir John roared. "Rosina, I admire your spirit, but there is still much that you don't understand."

  "How convenient!" she scoffed. "How easy to simply say that and brush me aside."

  "The man who could brush you aside would need to be very brave," Sir John said fervently. "He would also need to have a thick hide, and it would help if he were stone deaf."

  She was strongly tempted to say "Hah!" again, but she had a feeling that it would be unwise. Instead she turned away, intending to pace the floor. But then she stopped, transfixed by what she saw.

  William Gladstone was standing in the doorway.

  "Uncle William!" she exclaimed.

  "My dear."

  He embraced her warmly.

  "Have you been there long?" she asked.

  His granite face creased in a smile.

  "Long enough to hear some very interesting things. I had no idea you were such a firebrand. You're right about one thing. There have to be great changes in this country. Very great changes. And the time is coming."

  Rosina gave Sir John a triumphant look.


  "Then I can't wait for the election," she declared.

  "Very soon now."

  "Things are happening?"

  "The Reform Bill has gone for the royal assent. Then Disraeli can dissolve Parliament."

  "But suppose he doesn't?"

  "Then we'll make him," Uncle William said

  vigorously. "Now I have a great deal to discuss with your father."

  "I'll fetch him," she said and hurried away.

  She had a feeling that she had won this point in the game that pitched her and Sir John against each other.

  But before she was out of earshot she heard Uncle William say,

  "My god-daughter is a really knowledgeable, intelligent young woman, and just the perfect wife for you, John."

  Then came Sir John's emphatic reply,

  "I would as soon marry a buzzing gnat."

  This time she did say "Hah!"

  She said it to herself again when she had delivered the message to her father, and gone out into the garden.

  She was not quite sure what she meant by it, but it made her feel better.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  At last it was time to leave London. The election was under way in the new constituencies, and with new voters.

  Lord Blakemore's estate lay within Sir Elroy's constituency, and the family travelled to East Gradley on the same train as the Clarendons. Sir John came with them and spent most of his time talking to Lady Doreen.

  "The thing that makes this election different to any other," he explained, "is that this country now has an extra one and a half million voters. Men owning land of a certain value, or even renting rooms of a certain value, can vote for the first time ever."

  "But only men?" Lady Doreen said.

  Sir John grinned.

  "You must talk to Miss Clarendon about that. She has strong views on the subject, as, indeed, she has on every subject."

  "As every woman should," Rosina said firmly.

  "Really ma'am?" he teased her. "Only women? Surely we poor men are allowed strong opinions too?"

  "I'm sure that nobody could prevent it," she said, laughing reluctantly.

  Later she drew Lady Doreen aside for a private talk.

  "How are you feeling now?" she asked. "You always seem so cheerful on the surface that it makes me wonder if you are still hurt underneath."

  "How kind you are," said her friend. "No, I'm not hurting any more. My heart isn't broken. I don't think I really loved him. It's just that he seemed so different, a man from a background without privilege, determined to make his own way. I thought that was admirable. All I want now is to forget that I was on the point of making a fool of myself. Thank goodness you came to save me."