Love is Triumphant (3 page)

'I'm longing to see you tonight, and to tell you how much I love you. That will take me a very long time. Goodbye, my darling, and think of me until we meet.'

"That is lovely," Rosina said. "It's the sort of thing I'd like someone to write to me."

"It will soon be your turn," Miss Draycott said.

"You must keep such a beautiful letter."

"Of course I will keep it. I keep all Arthur's letters and when I feel depressed and miserable, I read them over and over again."

Rosina helped her to finish dressing, and waved her off. When it was time to go to bed that night she lay awake, thinking of her friend and how madly in love she was.

Then she thought of Sir John and heard again the sudden bitterness in his voice when he spoke of love.

What had he meant by it?

Had he been in love with some girl who had not loved him in return?

She was suddenly aware that he had a whole life that was hidden from her. In reality she knew almost nothing about him.

She wondered what her own lover would be like, and when he would arrive in her life. Would he be charming, handsome and passionately devoted to her?

She tried to picture him, on one knee before her, offering his heart and a diamond ring.

But all she could see was Sir John glaring at her and calling her a silly child.

She turned over and thumped the pillow in frustration.

As the night wore on Rosina's thoughts were more and more with Miss Draycott and her lover. What was happening now? Had he proposed? Were they celebrating their future happiness?

She had once seen them together, although even Miss Draycott did not know about that. She had been buying some oddments in the village, accompanied by a couple of the other pupils, for girls were not allowed to go to the village alone.

They had been thinking of going into a teashop, and Rosina had looked inside one as they passed. There she had seen Miss Draycott and a very handsome young man, sitting together in the corner, absorbed in each other.

Arthur Woodward had been smiling in a way that added greatly to his looks. But it had been Miss Draycott herself who held Rosina's attention. The way she held her lover's hand, the fervour with which she gazed at him, above all her total, enraptured stillness, all these things showed Rosina that this was a woman in the grip of a death defying passion. This man was her life, her world. She wanted no other, and could have no other. Without him there would be nothing.

As for him, he was devoting himself to her

charmingly, but he was not lost in her as she was lost in him. The chasm between what he felt for her and what she felt for him was very plain.

Rosina had turned away suddenly to face the girls with her.

"Not this place," she said. "I don't like it."

"But we want some tea," they had protested.

"We must find somewhere else," she had said firmly, determined to protect Miss Draycott from prying eyes.

She had meant to tell Miss Draycott what she had seen, and they could smile about it together. But strangely she found that she could not speak of it. She had seen something she had not been meant to see, something deeply private and secret. And she knew she must keep silent.

But she could never forget what she had witnessed. Now she knew how a woman looked when she loved a man body and soul, more than her own life, so that nothing but him existed in the whole world. The intensity of it was almost frightening.

All this came back to her as she lay listening for Miss Draycott's return. When at last it came she knew there had been no proposal. Her friend walked slowly as though there were a heaviness in her heart, and something about that sound warned Rosina not to go to her, but to leave her to grieve in private.

*

Over the days that followed Rosina found that although Miss Draycott was meeting her lover on every possible occasion, there were long days and nights when she did not see him.

But the letters arrived almost every morning.

They kept her happy even though Rosina was well aware that the future seemed inevitably dark and empty, since he never mentioned marriage.

'If I could see him,' Rosina thought, 'I would tell him that he should marry Miss Draycott and somehow they would manage together to make some money, however difficult it may seem now.'

Then, one night, when Rosina was undressing and getting ready to go to bed, she heard someone drive up to their wing.

Looking down from her window she saw a man slip a letter through the letter box. It was hard to see clearly from this height, and in the darkness, but she could almost have sworn that the man was Arthur Woodward.

But why was he delivering his letter in such a secretive way, at this time of night?

Throwing on her dressing gown, Rosina hurried downstairs. There lay the letter on the mat, and it was addressed to Miss Draycott. She snatched it up and hurried back upstairs.

As she reached the hall Miss Draycott opened her door.

"Where have you been at this hour?" she asked.

"Getting something which has just been delivered for you," Rosina answered holding out the envelope.

"Just been delivered!" Miss Draycott exclaimed.

She took the letter and returned to her room, Rosina following her.

"How strange, that he should write to me at such a late hour. His letters usually arrive in the morning."

She lit the lamp, and Rosina could see that her eyes were shining.

"It must be something special," she mused. "Something that couldn't wait. Oh Rosina, do you think – after all this time - ?"

"Perhaps. Read it quickly."

"Don't go. Stay a moment, and then I can share the good news with you. Then you can go to bed and sleep happily as I will do."

Rosina smiled at her.

"I must admit I am rather curious," she said, "as to what is in that envelope."

It would have been truer to say that she was full of foreboding. Something told her that all was not well.

Miss Draycott sat down on the bed, took out the letter and started to read it.

Rosina did not move or say anything. She just waited, her eyes fixed on her friend's face.

As Miss Draycott read the first page, then turned it over to read the second, Rosina asked in a low voice,

"Is it good news?"

Miss Draycott did not answer.

Then as she finished reading, she folded up the letter.

Putting it on her lap, she stared at the wall as if she was seeing something.

She did not speak.

As the minutes passed, Rosina asked gently, "What has happened?"

For a moment Miss Draycott did not reply.

Then she said in a voice which did not sound like her own,

"Well, we were partly correct. This letter is to announce his intention to marry – but not to me."

"I don't believe it," Rosina said mechanically. But in the depths of her heart, she knew that she did believe it. Sir John had been right all the time, and suddenly she hated him for it.

"He has considered the matter," Miss Draycott said slowly, "and believes that we have no future together. He wants – " she broke off and a shudder went through her, "he wants me to return his letters."

"Who is he marrying?" Rosina asked in a tight voice.

"He does not say." Miss Draycott gave a forlorn smile. "Perhaps he's afraid that if I knew I would make trouble. He need not worry. I would do nothing to harm him. I hope he'll be very happy, and have everything he wants in life."

She spoke in a soft, heart-broken voice that filled Rosina with dread. Following dread came anger.

"I hope he won't be happy," she said through gritted teeth. "I hope he'll be as miserable as he deserves to be."

"Don't say that," Miss Draycott said fiercely. "Don't wish him ill. I forbid you, do you understand?"

"But why should he be happy when he's treated you like this?" Rosina cried. "What right does he have?"

"Every right. If he finds he cannot love me then – then he is right to leave me. He can be a great man, a politician, a leader, and he must let nothing stand in his way. If I must stand aside for his welfare then – then I am willing to do so."

"But the way he's treated you – "

"He has done what he had to," Miss Draycott said in a shaking voice, "and I honour him for it. He will suffer no harm or scandal because of me."

She turned a ravaged face on Rosina.

"Don't you understand?" she said in a husky voice. "To do him no harm is all I can hope for."

"How can you say that?" cried Rosina. "He's a

greedy, selfish coward. Why don't you hate him?"

"Because I love him. Even now I love him. I cannot help it. One day you will love a man, more than your own life, love him so much that your own welfare means nothing as long as you can do him some good. When that day comes, you will understand."

"I hope I never feel like that," Rosina said bitterly. "If love makes a slave of a woman, then I hope I never feel it."

"I pity you if you never know love."

"If I never know love, I shall never know pain," Rosina said in a hard voice.

"And you will never know glory," Miss Draycott told her. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like to be quite alone."

Her voice was no longer shaking, but firm and decided. Rosina had no choice but to do as she wished.

In the doorway she stopped and looked back. Miss Draycott was still standing there, with her back to her.

"Remember," Rosina said, "I am always your friend. I will do anything you wish."

"Thank you."

Miss Draycott made the reply over her shoulder, and it sounded hollow. After a moment, Rosina went out, shutting the door behind her.

She waited for a moment in case she should be called back, but no sound came from behind the door, and at last she returned to her own room and sat down on the bed.

She was startled by her own storm of feeling. How she hated the man who had taken her friend's love and then so callously tossed it aside in pursuit of greed and ambition.

She paced up and down knowing that she would get no sleep that night. Sometimes she stopped and listened, but there was only silence.

At last she could stand it no longer and slipped out into the corridor. At the bottom of the stairs she found a side door, unlocked it, and went out into the night. By going round the side of the building she would be able to see Miss Draycott's balcony.

She moved out across the lawn and into the shadow of the trees. Then she stopped suddenly, alerted by what she had seen.

Miss Draycott was standing by the open window. After a moment she stepped out onto her balcony.

She was looking up into the sky, lost in a dream, and seemed completely unaware of the world around her. As Rosina watched, she raised her arms high as though appealing to the moon, and simply let herself fall.

Time seemed to stop. Almost in slow motion she drifted down to earth while a long, mournful cry came from her. Frozen with horror, Rosina saw her fall two floors to crash onto the stones below.

Now she forced her limbs to move, racing forwards across the lawn, praying that she might be in time to save Miss Draycott, even though she knew it was useless.

She reached the figure lying on the hard stone and dropped down beside her. Blood was pouring from a wound in Miss Draycott's head. As if she sensed Rosina, she opened her eyes.

"I'm – sorry," she whispered. "I could not – face life – without him."

"Oh dear God!" Rosina wept.

"But no harm must come – to him. You promise? No harm."

It took all her strength to say, "I promise. I promise."

"I trust you – my dear friend."

She closed her eyes.

"No!"
Rosina sobbed. "Not like this."

From somewhere in the distance she could hear shouts. People had heard the cry and were running to see what had happened.

"Miss Draycott – please – don't go."

But Miss Draycott did not move, and Rosina knew that she would never move again.

As if a spotlight had suddenly come on, Rosina saw the letter clutched in the dead woman's hand. It was
his
letter, the one that had sent her to her death. If the world saw it there would be a scandal. Everyone would know that she had committed suicide, and why.

Moving too fast for thought she seized the letter. Miss Draycott's dead grip on it was tight, as though even now she were unwilling to give up her last contact with him, but at last Rosina wrestled it from her. She just managed to conceal it in her sleeve, before Miss Baxter arrived with several other mistresses behind her.

"Great heavens! What has happened?" she cried.

"There has been a terrible accident," Rosina said calmly. It was strange how calm she could be now that she had made her decision. "Miss Draycott fell from her balcony. Someone should send for a doctor."

Nobody seemed to find it strange that she should be giving orders. At that moment there was a natural authority about her, and Miss Baxter immediately did as she suggested.

Rosina looked down at her night-dress, now stained with blood.

"I'll go and get changed," she said.

She sped away before anyone could ask her questions. Upstairs she hurried to Miss Draycott's room and went straight to the drawer in her dressing-table where she had kept Arthur Woodward's letters.

There they still were, wrapped up in blue ribbon. And there were the few trifling little gifts he had given her, and which she had treasured so much. Rosina seized them all.

There was one last thing to do. Beside the bed she found Miss Draycott's purse where she had kept her beloved Arthur's picture. Going through it swiftly, Rosina found the picture and removed it.

At the door she stopped and looked back at the room where she had known so many happy times.

"I've done my best for you," she whispered.

There was the noise of someone approaching. Quickly Rosina closed the door and returned to her own room. There she hid everything in her wardrobe, until she could find a better place. Nobody would be allowed to find those pathetic remnants of her friend's life. Her reputation would remain intact.