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Authors: Barbara Cartland

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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."

"Think no more of that!" Rosina said. "We are starting out on something new and exciting, which I think you will find absorbs your thoughts and your feelings so that you have no time to worry about anything else."

Lady Doreen laughed.

"I love the way you put it," she said. "I know I will enjoy being with you."

At East Gradley the two families left the train, while Sir John stayed on for the next stop, West Gradley.

Rosina stood on the platform, waving as the train drew out. When it had gone the world felt very empty.

"Come along my dear," said her father. "We have work to do."

That evening he was visited by party officials. Both Rosina and her mother were present to hear the local party secretary tell him bluntly that his seat might be in danger.

"The part of the constituency that's been hived off to make South Gradley contained some of your most solid support," he explained. "And most of the newly enfranchised men are in what's left of your territory. At this stage we simply don't know which way they will vote. We're all going to have to work very hard to make sure of them."

"What about Sir John Crosby next door?" Sir Elroy wanted to know. "Does he have the same problem?"

"Luckily, no. He's kept the safest part of his area, and the new voters are mostly in the bit that's been assigned to the new constituency. There won't be any problem about returning him."

"Thank goodness!" Sir Elroy said. "He's coming over to help me, but I'd hate to think he was neglecting his own voters dangerously."

"Don't you worry, sir. Sir John is so popular that his party workers can do what's needed. It's right for him to help you. Just think, if you lost your seat when you were about to be made – "

"Not a word," Sir Elroy said quickly. "You mustn't talk or even think like that."

"That's understood, sir. But they're taking bets in the ale houses."

"If they must take bets on anything, tell them to bet on whether or not I get elected," Sir Elroy said, sounding harassed. "Nothing could be worse than letting people think I'm taking success for granted."

Rosina had much to think about as she went to bed that night. The threat to her father was very real. He might lose his seat just as he was on the verge of gaining high political office.

"It mustn't happen," she said fervently. "Somehow Papa must win. If only Sir John arrives quickly tomorrow. I'm sure he will know what to do."

On that thought she fell asleep.

*

Sure enough Sir John was there early the following morning, and with a plan of action already drawn up.

"I think we should start by visiting those people who

can be found at home. After that we'll go to the factories. Many of the new voters are working men, and that's where we'll find them."

Lady Clarendon came in and looked at her daughter proudly.

"I remember when I first went canvassing for your Papa," she said. "I was so thrilled. Now it's your turn."

"Do you have any good advice for me, Mama?"

"Don't forget that everyone has their problems," Lady Clarendon replied. "You won't find anyone who doesn't have a problem of some sort."

Rosina nodded as her mother went on,

"Some are worried about their children, others are just anxious to elect someone who will help them with their own particular difficulties, whatever they may be."

"I suppose," Rosina said, "the majority of them want money."

"Of course they do. No matter how much they have, they always feel poor, and would like to be better off. Which, I suppose, is also true of ourselves.

"Let them talk of their troubles, then be sympathetic and understanding.

"Leave them with a promise that if he's returned to Parliament, your father will do everything he can to make the people here as happy as possible."

"What about his opponent?" Rosina asked. "A Mr. Montague Rushley, I believe."

"He's a dreadful man," her mother said at once. "Personally chosen by Disraeli for his 'oily' qualities. He's working very hard to do your father down, by saying things about him which are untrue."

"How is he able to do that?" Rosina asked, shocked.

Lady Clarendon laughed.

"You know as well as I do that if someone wants something very important they lie and lie."

"Yes, I do," Rosina said, thinking of Arthur Woodward.

"I also understand that Mr. Rushley's office has recently been joined by some very undesirable elements, men with no background or principles. At the moment it's all vague rumour and no certain details, but people have appeared who are unlike anyone we've dealt with before. They are hard and unscrupulous, and now the constituency has been divided up, they see their chance."

BOOK: Love is Triumphant
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