Love is Triumphant (2 page)

"It makes no difference whose fault it was," Sir John replied firmly. "The fact is that he has no income and no means of earning one without passing his exams. Can he take them again?"

Rosina shook her head.

"He failed very badly," she said. "They told him not to return."

"Wealthy relatives?"

"His uncle makes him a modest allowance, but is growing cross with him."

"I'm not surprised. He sounds a feeble character."

"That is most unfair," Rosina flared. "How can you,

who have never been ill or poor, understand his situation?"

He looked at her curiously.

"I thought it was Miss Draycott who was in love with him, not you."

"How dare you say such a thing. I've never even met him."

"Forgive me. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you shouldn't," she said furiously.

She could never understand why she always seemed to end up at odds with Sir John. When he was absent, she dreamed about his handsome face. When he was present, she noticed only how infuriating he could be.

"Let's forget my sins," he said in a voice that was almost placating, "and return to this man, and how he is to obtain a good income so that he can marry your friend. Not that I think any right-minded woman would want to tie herself to such a – all right, all right," he said hastily, reading retribution in her eyes.

"Perhaps he'll find a wealthy patron," Rosina said, controlling herself with difficulty.

"Has he found one so far?"

"I don't think so."

"Then he'll have to marry money."

"What a dreadful thing to say," Rosina flared up again.

"My dear girl I'm only trying to alert you to the dangers. If this lady you seem so fond of, is hoping this man will marry her, both you and she should be warned that it's very unlikely."

"But they love each other," she cried. "You should see the things he writes in his letters."

"I'd like to," Sir John said, a touch grimly. "He sounds like a cad to me."

"You know nothing about him," Rosina said angrily. "He loves her truly, devotedly, passionately – "

"Enough to give up his ambition? Because he'll have to if he can't get financial backing from somewhere."

"It won't come to that," she said firmly. "They will marry, and he'll find a patron – "

"And a good fairy will appear and wave her magic wand and they'll live happily ever after," Sir John said impatiently. "My dear child, you're living in a romantic fantasy. The real world is a harsh place, and I'm afraid your friend is going to get hurt."

"I've told you, they love each other," she said firmly.

"Oh – love," he replied dismissively.

"Why must you sneer?"

"I'm not sneering, but I think we load far too many burdens onto 'love', most of which it's ill-equipped to bear. Love is very sweet for a time, but the man who relies on it is a fool."

An edge of bitterness had crept into his voice. Rosina stared at him.

"But we were talking about a woman," she said slowly.

He seemed to recover himself.

"Man or woman, it makes no difference," he said quickly. "There is love and there is reality, and it's better not to confuse the two."

Rosina was silent, astonished at this unexpected glimpse he had given her into his own experience. For a moment there had been real pain in his voice.

"I don't think you should assume that everyone's experience has been like yours," she said carefully.

"Like mine?" he repeated sharply. "What are you talking about? We weren't talking about me."

"I think we were."

"Don't be so dashed impertinent!" he said angrily. "At your age, what do you know about anything?"

"I know when a man's talking about himself – "

"My dear child – "

"And stop talking to me like that," she said furiously. "I'm not a child, I'm not yours and I have no desire to be your dear anything."

"I feel exactly the same. A prickly, naggy creature like yourself is the last girl I'd ever – you should start being a little careful how you speak to men, Rosina. When you're a debutante you'll want them to like you, and they won't like you if you're always wiping your feet on them, the way you do with me."

"Some men positively beg to have a woman's feet wiped on them," she snapped. "And then they have only themselves to blame."

"I take it I'm included in that list?" he asked, his eyes kindling.

"Should you be?"

For a moment she thought he would explode. Then he turned away, raised his fists into the air and roared up into the sky.

"Heaven give me patience! I pity the man who marries you, Rosina. He'll never get a word in edgeways."

"Which will save me from having to listen to a lot of nonsense," she replied tartly.

"On second thoughts, you are plainly destined to be an old maid."

"That will suit me very well."

For a while the silence was sulphurous. Then he sighed and came back to sit beside her, his good humour restored.

"However did we start exchanging pleasantries?" he asked, taking her hand. "I didn't mean to be unkind about Miss Draycott, only to utter a friendly warning."

"I know," she sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that the whole thing is so unfair. "MPs ought to be paid, and then he could win a seat and they could afford to marry."

"The idea is to make sure that they are all wealthy enough to be independent," Sir John explained. "It keeps out men who are regarded as 'not good enough'."

"That's outrageous."

"I agree, and one day it will have to be changed. People like your father and myself are working for changes. So is our leader, Mr. Gladstone. That's why it's so important that the Liberals win the coming election. But I'm afraid it won't be in time to do this couple any good."

"They ought to give women the vote," Rosina said crossly. "In fact they ought to let us sit in Parliament."

"Well, maybe that too will happen one day," he soothed.

"Are you daring to patronise me?" she asked, ready to be angry again.

"I wouldn't dare. You scare me. You're the most terrifyingly intelligent young woman I know."

Inwardly she sighed. So much for dreaming of dazzling him with her beauty. She was intelligent. She terrified him.

"I can't help being intelligent," she sighed.

"Not only intelligent but well-informed."

"Which is another crime in a woman," she reminded him.

"With your background you could hardly be anything else. I think your father was already in Parliament when you were born, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he won his seat in '46, and I was born four years later. I hardly saw Papa on my second birthday because it coincided with election night.

"And nobody ever talked about anything else but politics in our house," she continued. "And Uncle William is Papa's friend."

The man she so casually referred to as 'Uncle William' was in fact William Ewart Gladstone, leader of the Liberal Party.

"And 'Uncle William' will win the coming election and be Prime Minister," Sir John supplied. "At least, that is what we must all hope and work for. He's a great man, a great reformer. He sees what's wrong with this country and he thinks – "

'Oh heavens!' Rosina thought. 'This isn't what I want to hear at this moment.'

But she could see that Sir John was fired with enthusiasm, and she didn't want to say or do anything that would bring the time with him to an end – even if he was the most annoying man she had ever known. So she listened carefully and made intelligent observations, and at last he said,

"It was nice of you to listen to me. I've managed to get several ideas sorted out in my head."

"I'm glad," she said politely.

Inwardly she sighed. She would much rather he tell her that she was pretty, and her eyes were like stars.

But later, she promised herself. Later. When she was eighteen.

"I can't wait to leave school," she said, "and be part of all the excitement."

"It is going to be an exciting time," he agreed. "Here are the letters from your parents. I think you'll find they have a lot to say about plans for the summer. Your mother told me you were all thinking of going to Italy."

"Oh, I'm sure that's all off now," she said cheerfully. "Who could possibly want to go to Italy, when they could get pelted on the hustings instead?"

"That's the spirit," he told her, clapping her heartily on the shoulder. "Well, I must be going now. I dare say we'll bump into each other again during the course of the election campaign."

"I'm sure we will," she said politely.

'Otherwise,' she thought, 'you won't give me another thought until the Liberals have won. And then you'll probably have a government job and think of me even less.'

As they walked back to the school building they came in sight of the wing where Rosina had her room, two floors up. Looking up, she saw Miss Draycott standing on the balcony outside her window. The teacher waved cheerfully when she saw Rosina, and pointed to the watch on her wrist.

"That's Miss Draycott," Rosina told Sir John. "She's reminding me that I have a music lesson with her in about five minutes."

"Then I'll leave you here," he said. "Please say goodbye to the Headmistress for me."

He gave her a little bow, and departed.

Rosina looked up to Miss Draycott on the high balcony, waved back, and began to hurry into the building.

Miss Draycott wasn't like other teachers. She was very pretty, and only about twenty-five. Her room was next door to Rosina's, and it had been easy for them to become close friends.

Gradually the age gap between them had seemed to vanish, and at last Miss Draycott had confided in Rosina about the man she loved. His name was Arthur Woodward and he was ambitious to enter politics and get to the top.

To the young Rosina the whole story was wildly romantic. More thrilling still was being allowed to read some of his letters with their expressions of love and passion.

"Oh, how I hope that someday a wonderful man will write to me like this," she mused.

At that moment she was not thinking particularly of Sir John. She enjoyed the mild, exciting infatuation she felt for him, but she knew it was not the overwhelming love that she hoped to find some day.

When that day came, it seemed to her that to receive such declarations of devotion must be the pinnacle of any woman's life.

Certainly Miss Draycott seemed to feel the same. There was a glow about her today that Rosina thought she understood.

"Has he written again?" she whispered, and the teacher nodded joyfully.

There were three other girls taking the lesson, so they were unable to talk further. After that Rosina had a geography lesson, but as soon as it was over she raced upstairs and knocked on Miss Draycott's door.

"Come in."

She went in to find the teacher standing in the tall window that led out onto the balcony. She had a letter clutched in her hand, and looked ecstatically happy.

"And who was that good-looking young man I saw you with?" she teased.

"Oh, you mean Sir John Crosby?" Rosina replied with a shrug. "He's not particularly good-looking." "Isn't he?"

"Anyway, how could you tell from here? It's so far away."

Miss Draycott laughed.

"I could tell by the way you seemed so absorbed in him."

"I was not," Rosina said, stung.

She looked down at the ground, at the stones immediately beneath them, then the lawns leading to the woods and the stream. For a moment the height made her giddy.

"Come back from the edge," Miss Draycott said. "These balcony rails aren't quite high enough for tall women like us."

They drew back into the room and closed the window.

"What did Mr Woodward have to say?" Rosina asked.

"He's taking me out tonight. We're going to eat at a smart restaurant." She indicated two dresses hanging up, one blue, one pink. "Which of these do you think I should wear?"

"Oh, I think the pink one."

"Yes, I'm sure that Arthur will admire me in pink as I wore blue when I dined with him last week."

"Mind you," Rosina added, "I don't think he'll mind what you wear. Not if he really loves you."

"Oh he does love me, I know he does," Miss Draycott said at once. "And I love him with all my heart. I am hoping and praying that he will ask me to be his wife."

"How thrilling that will be," Rosina replied. "When he's in Parliament you'll have to have a house in London. Then there will be parties, and theatres and all sorts of nice things to go to, every night. It will be very exciting." Miss Draycott smiled.

"It will be very exciting to be with the man I love and who loves me," she answered.

She spoke very softly, as if she was speaking to herself.

Rosina was silent for a moment. She could not help thinking of Sir John's warning that Miss Draycott's lover would either need a wealthy patron or a wealthy wife.

But he loved her, Rosina reassured herself. What could ambition matter beside true love?

Miss Draycott was sighing happily, lost in the vision of herself as a bride.

"I think I'll have my wedding dress made up in London," she said. "After all, the wedding is the most important day of a woman's life. I want my husband to remember me as being more beautiful than at any other time we have been together."

"I'm sure he'll think so," Rosina said.

Miss Draycott sighed.

"I only wish I were rich," she said. "Then I could help Arthur in all sorts of ways."

"Perhaps he'll win some money racing, or a relation will die and leave you a fortune," Rosina suggested.

Miss Draycott spoke with sudden bitterness.

"That only happens in books," she said. "In real life you struggle to keep your head above water, but without money you are likely to sink to the bottom and no one will even be sorry for you."

Then she brightened again, for nothing could depress her for long when she was going to meet the man she adored.

"Would you like to see his letter?" she asked eagerly.

Rosina took the letter that had arrived that day, and read,

'I will count the hours until we are together tonight. Unfortunately I have to go away tomorrow to visit some friends, but I'll just start counting the hours again, until I can see you.