"You mustn't let them tease you," he said. "You were splendid and I thought you not only looked lovely, but what you said was brilliant."
"Was I really all right?" Lady Doreen asked. "I've always been interested in politics. In our house you have to be. But I wish I understood more."
"Then you must let me tell all you about it," Charles said. "I will enjoy that even more than I enjoy getting yet another vote for the Liberals."
He spoke in a way which made Lady Doreen look at him with an expression in her eyes which was very moving.
She got into the carriage and Charles closed the door behind her.
"Goodbye until tomorrow," he said. "I will be counting every moment until we meet again."
He spoke very quietly so that the coachman did not hear.
Then he kissed Lady Doreen's hand. As she smiled at him she drove off. He stood watching the carriage until it was out of sight.
Then almost reluctantly he turned and walked back into the house.
"You look cheerful," Sir John observed.
Charles hastily removed the vague smile from his face, and went on past them into the garden.
"Poor old fellow," Sir John observed. "He's past praying for."
"You think that he and Lady Doreen – ?"
"Certain of it. He has the look of a man in love."
"How does a man in love look?" Rosina asked him curiously.
"You should know. You've seen enough of them gazing at you like dying donkeys."
"Just because a man looks like a dying donkey I don't think that means he's really in love," Rosina said. "I'm sure the real thing is something quite different."
"May I ask if you speak from experience, ma'am?"
"Well, nobody has ever seen me looking like a dying donkey."
"I believe you. You have far too much common sense."
She had never realised before that 'common sense' could be such a crushing phrase.
"I pride myself on my common sense," she said defiantly.
He gave her an ironic little bow.
"How wise of you. Now, it's time I was returning to my own home, so I'll bid you good day."
As he went to the front door Rosina followed him, unwilling to let him out of her sight until the last moment. She stood there wistfully as he went down the steps to his carriage.
Then she stiffened.
"I'll see you early tomorrow," he called back to her.
"Rosina? Rosina, what is it?"
When she did not answer he came running back up the steps.
"What is it?" he repeated.
"Nothing, I – I thought I saw – "
"What did you see?" He took her arms gently and gave her a little shake. "Tell me."
"I thought I saw him, Arthur Woodward."
"Where?" he asked sharply.
"There, by the gate. He's gone now."
He turned at once, racing back down the steps and heading for the gate, looking one way then another. At last he came back to her.
"There's nobody there," he said.
"I might have imagined it, but I've seen him several times before."
Sir John drew her back into the house and closed the door.
"What do you mean, you've seen him before?" he asked urgently.
"I saw him twice in London. He stands so still, and he glares at me with hate. I thought at first it was just my fancy but he keeps coming back. Oh John, I must be going mad."
"Nonsense," he said reassuringly. "Of course you're not."
"Then why do I see a man who isn't there?"
"Perhaps he is. We know he hates you and blames you for his misfortunes. Maybe he's following you and trying to upset you. All the more reason for you to be careful."
She gave a shudder.
"Yes, I suppose so. But where is he? After what
happened, he just seems to have vanished."
"And that's why he seems to come and go like a will'o the wisp," he agreed. "I'll find him, and when we can locate him in one place, that will set your mind at rest."
"Can you do that?" she implored. "Oh, please."
"It may take a couple of days, but I'll track him down. I won't let anyone hurt or frighten you. Rosina, please don't worry."
She looked up at him, her heart glowing at the warmth in his voice. She felt his hands on her shoulders, strong and reassuring, as though he would fight all the world for her sake.
But then a cold wind swept over her as she recalled what Lady Doreen had said about Lettice Holden.
This man was virtually engaged to another woman. Which meant that he could never be hers.
She should not be here with him, growing so close to him. From now on that feeling was forbidden.
She gave a horrified gasp and pulled away.
"Thank you," she said hurriedly. "I shall be most grateful for anything you can do for me. Now I will bid you goodnight."
"Goodnight," he said, giving her a puzzled look. "Rosina – "
"Goodnight, goodnight," she cried.
She almost ran away, but when she heard him close the door and go down the steps, she went to the window and watched him get into his carriage.
She did not move until the carriage had swung out of the gate, and vanished from sight. Her eyes were full of tears.
He was lost to her.
CHAPTER NINE
Rosina lay awake most of that night, trying to collect her thoughts.
How could this have happened? How could she have understood that she loved John only now, when it was too late?
Of course the feelings had been there for a long time. She had always felt at ease with him, but she had assumed that it was no more than friendship.
But then, wasn't friendship also a part of love? Would it not be wonderful to marry a man knowing that he was your friend as well as your lover?
She could talk to him as she could to nobody else. Even their frequent arguments were no more than a meeting of minds, and she often enjoyed them.
Recently things had changed. In his presence she had become aware of a new excitement. Dancing with him, feeling his arms hold her, his strong body moving close to hers, had thrilled her as nothing had ever done before.
And still she had refused to understand what was so plain.
She loved him. Her girlish infatuation had given way to the passionate love of a woman, but it had happened when she was angry with him about Miss Draycott.
He had tried to warn her that Woodward could not be relied on, but she had misunderstood, thinking that he was siding with a villain, when he had only been trying to protect her friend from pain. In her anger she had turned on him, and so failed to comprehend her own feelings.
It was true, as Lady Doreen, had said. She had at least half encouraged him to court Lettice Holden, although she had done so in an ironic way. But he would not have understood that she was saying things she did not really mean.
Or perhaps he did not care what she meant? Perhaps he was really set on this wealthy match for the benefits it could bring him?
When she woke up in the morning, her pillow was wet with tears.
She braced herself to meet her family without letting them suspect that anything was wrong, but when she entered the breakfast room only her brother was there.
He did not seem to notice her air of strain, being too preoccupied with his own affairs, and Rosina became aware that he seemed full of a suppressed excitement.
"Is something the matter?" she asked him.
"Nothing is wrong, but something is wonderful," he said. "As soon as Mama and Papa come in, I'll tell you all about it."
"No, tell me now," she begged.
"All right. Last night, after we returned home, I slipped out and rode over to Blakemore House. They were all about to go to bed when I arrived, but I managed to say everything I wanted to say."
He stopped. His face was shining with happiness.
"Is it – Lady Doreen?" Rosina asked.
"Yes," he said, beaming. "I a
sked Lord Blakemore for his permission to pay court to her, and he agreed."
"What did she say?"
"Very little in words. She just smiled and nodded. We're not officially engaged, but I may court her, with a view to becoming engaged soon."
"But – so soon?"
"It isn't soon for me. I have loved her from the moment we met, at your debut ball. Since I've been apart from her I've thought of nothing else but her, and how I could contrive another meeting."
"Did you really fall down those stairs?" Rosina teased.
"Well – I may not have tried very hard to save myself," he conceded with a sheepish grin. "I knew I had to get back on land and see her again. I never thought for a moment that I'd be lucky enough to win her. But she says that she likes me, and could perhaps love me. That's all I dare to hope for at the moment."
"Oh Charles, how wonderful! She is very dear to me, and I'm sure you could make each other happy."
They hugged each other. Rosina half thought she must be dreaming. But nothing could be more marvellous than for Charles to marry her friend.
At last her parents came into the breakfast room, and Charles told his story again. They were overjoyed, and for a while Rosina was able to join in their delight.
Then her happiness dimmed a little. It might have been herself and Sir John celebrating the future.
But it would not be. Because she had thrown him into the arms of another woman.
Now she was faced with a lifetime of regret, wondering how things might have turned out if she had known her own heart sooner. Perhaps she could have won him?
But she would never know.
"I dare say she will be here soon," Sir Elroy said. "It will be lovely to see her."
But Lady Doreen did not arrive. Neither did Sir John. Time wore on until it was well past the moment when they should both have arrived, and everybody's heart sank.
"I'm going over to Blakemore Hall," Charles said at last. "Something must have happened."
"Wait!" Rosina said, looking out of the window. "She's here. In fact, they're both arriving."
The two carriages were drawing up together, one containing Lady Doreen, and one with Sir John. Both of them were frowning and looking agitated.
They jumped out, greeted each other tensely, and entered the house arm in arm.
"For pity's sake, what is it?" Charles demanded, going straight to Lady Doreen and taking her hands. "My darling, tell me everything."
"I hardly know how to," she said in a shaking voice. "Something has happened which – which – oh Sir John, how can I tell you?"
"But how can it have anything to do with him?" Charles demanded.
"Early this morning a messenger arrived from London with devastating news. You may remember that Papa wanted George to come here with us, and George refused. Now we know why. He has eloped."
"Eloped?" Charles echoed. "But why should he need to? Surely anyone would welcome him as a son-in-law?"
"Yes, but Papa does not approve of the lady he has chosen, so George ran off with her. He must have been planning it all this time, and put his plan into action as soon as we'd left London."
"But who has he eloped with?" Charles demanded.
"Lettice Holden," Lady Doreen whispered, her eyes on Sir John.
For a moment he did not react. He merely stared at her, as if thunderstruck.
Rosina's eyes were fixed on his face, but she could not decide whether he was heart-broken, or merely astonished.
"Did you say – Lettice Holden?" he asked at last.
"Yes, Sir John, I'm afraid I did. I know that this news will come as a terrible blow to you – "
She got no further. Sir John threw back his head and began to laugh helplessly, while they all stared at him, and Rosina felt a surge of happiness.
She could hardly believe what was happening.
"Forgive me," he said at last. "I'm not sure how you were expecting me to react but – " he shrugged, smiling.
"I think you are splendid," Lady Doreen told him fervently. "We were all sure that you and she would make a match of it. Indeed, Rosina and I did everything we could to bring it about, and it's so terrible that our efforts have all been in vain."
"I am indebted to Miss Clarendon – and you of course – for these efforts on my behalf," Sir John said in an ironic voice. "But it seems I was defeated by the better man!"
"Oh nonsense!" Lady Doreen said with unexpected robustness. "George isn't the better man, just the poorer one. You see, she has a tremendous amount of money, and George owes so much that he simply can't afford to marry anyone else. Papa refused to countenance the match because he thinks she's vulgar, but he doesn't know the full extent of George's debts, and George was too scared to tell him."
"What do the Holdens think of the match?" Sir John asked.
"It seems they were in on the plot," Lady Doreen said crossly.
"Well, George is heir to an earldom," Sir John said. "How can I compete?"
"Oh Sir John, are you terribly disappointed?" Lady Doreen asked tragically.
Rosina held her breath and her heart suddenly beat wildly.
"Please don't think of me as being in any way disappointed or dismayed," he said. "In fact I feel I've had a lucky escape. Just think, if she couldn't capture any larger prey she might have set her sights on me." He shuddered.
"But you seemed so happy together," Lady Doreen protested. "She was always laughing."
"Heavens yes!" he groaned. "How that woman laughed! It was a dreadful sound, but it was better than her simpering. So I was just the stalking-horse for your brother? Never mind, I dare say I'll be able to bear the disappointment."
He sounded almost light-hearted, Rosina thought, scarcely daring to believe what was happening.
He was free. He did not belong to another woman.
But she must still be careful. He had given no sign that he loved her.
Nevertheless, she refused to let anything dampen her soaring spirits. She could yet win his love.
It was some time before Rosina could get Sir John to herself. First the others must tell him their news, and he must exclaim over it and congratulate the happy couple.
But at last Sir Elroy and his lady drew Lady Doreen
and their son aside, and Rosina was free to confront Sir John.
"Shame on you," she told him, "for speaking of Miss Holden like that. Clearly she married George on the rebound because you were so hard-hearted."
"But I was not," he said innocently. "I threw myself at her feet and offered my heart and soul if only she would give me the free run of her purse."
"Oh, really!" she exclaimed indignantly.
"Why do you say that? Confess, Rosina, it was what you meant me to do. I'm sorry to disappoint you. I suppose she must have found something lacking in my declarations of undying love."
He gave a melancholy sigh that did not deceive her for a moment.
"You could have had the Holden fortune," she said, eyeing him askance.
"Yes, however will I manage without it? But I can't help feeling that George needs it more than I do. In fact, I think they may be very happy together."
"How can you say that? She's a thoroughly silly young woman."
"True. But then he's a thoroughly silly young man. Since neither of them is cursed with an excess of brains, they will suit each other together admirably."
Rosina was forced to admit that this was possible.
"Brains matter in a marriage," he added after a moment. "They matter more than you might think, almost as much as love. A couple cannot be happy if their minds are not in tune."
It was un-nerving to hear her own thoughts of last night put into words, but also exhilarating.
Was he trying to tell her something?
"Before the others came back, there's something I must say to you," he said.
"Yes?" Her heart was beating fast.
"It's about Woodward."
"Oh," she said in a flat voice.
"I'm afraid you were right about him. He's here."
"Here in Gradley? I really did see him?"
"Almost certainly. But wait until I tell you the worst, the really incredible thing. Woodward has gone over to the other side."
Her hands flew to her face.
"You mean – ?"
"He's working for the Conservatives, helping Montague Rushley win this seat away from your father."
"Oh no! How could he? He's a Liberal. He believes in our cause."
"I'm afraid a man like that believes in nothing except what will serve to advance himself. One side or the other, it's all one to him."
"And he'll really try to harm Papa? It's my fault. Oh, what have I done?"
"Rosina, this is not your fault. You must not believe that."
"But if Papa loses the seat, I shall blame myself for the rest of my days."
"Then we must make sure that he doesn't lose it. From now on we must think of nothing else but the election."
"Yes," she said with a little sigh. "Nothing else."
She would have to be patient, she told herself. Between now and the election they would have plenty of time together.
She soon realised that Sir John had been right to warn her about Woodward's activities. She did not see him, but she was always aware of him working behind the scenes. At meetings there was always one determined heckler, very well primed with hard questions. Too well primed for it to be an accident.
But she never saw Woodward himself, and slowly time moved on until it was almost the day of the election.
She was out doing some last minute canvassing on her own, accompanied only by Wilkins, the coachman who had been with the family for twenty years.
She felt satisfied with her day's work. She had done her best, and now there was nothing more she could do to help her father.
Rosina was walking towards the carriage which was waiting for her, when she suddenly realised that there was a familiar figure on the other side of the road.
It was Arthur Woodward.
He was just coming out of a small, shabby house, and it seemed to her that there was something furtive in his manner.
He turned sharply to the right and began walking down the street at a determined pace, as if it was important for him to reach somewhere quickly.
On an impulse Rosina stood up on the seat of the carriage which was open and said to Wilkins,
Love is Triumphant Page 11
