Love is Triumphant by Barbara Cartland Page A

her parents' schemes."
    "I agree," Rosina said firmly.
    "So do tell me, my dear friend. What are your plans? Oh forgive me, I was forgetting. You are not out. You have yet to look around you."
    "That's true," Rosina said with relief. "My debut will be in a few weeks."
    "And then all the young men will flock around you, and you can make your own choice. We will strike Sir John off the list – "
    "He was never on my list," Rosina insisted.
    "Well, we'll strike him off anyway, and yield him to Miss Holden."
    "That will suit me admirably," Rosina declared stiffly.
    "Will he be here tonight? I know he was invited, but I don't see him."
    "He has a meeting to attend, but I believe he said he would come on afterwards," Rosina said in a voice that clearly indicated that it was nothing to her whether he was at this party or not.
    The room was becoming crowded. Lettice Holden arrived with her parents. All of them were dressed in ways that puffed out their extravagant wealth. Lettice, in particular, dripped with diamonds in a way that was quite unsuitable for a young girl.
    A young man appeared beside them. Although not handsome he had a kind face and a merry grin which inspired Rosina's instant liking. Lady Doreen introduced him as her eldest brother, George. He regarded Rosina with evident admiration, while his sister beamed on them both.
    When George had moved away to greet other guests, Rosina asked Lady Doreen,
    "And the gentleman you have been telling me about? Will he not be here?"
    "Oh yes, he's been acting as Papa's secretary, and now he's been nominated to fight one of the new seats at the election. He's been invited because Papa regards him as a man of great talent, who should be encouraged."
    "But not where you're concerned, it seems."
    Lady Doreen gave her impish chuckle.
    "I can do all my own encouraging. Oh Rosina, I love him so much. Not that I tell him that, of course. I leave him in doubt so that he isn't too sure of me, but I long for the day when we can proclaim our love openly."
    She stopped suddenly with a little gasp, and her hands flew to her mouth.
    "There he is! Oh, look at him. Isn't he wonderful?"
    Smiling, Rosina turned to look at the doorway, where a young man, splendid in evening dress, had appeared.
    Then her smile faded.
    She stared in horror, hoping to discover that this was no more than a bad dream.
    The man was Arthur Woodward.
    It was impossible, she told herself wildly. It simply couldn't be true.
    But it was true. This was the man she had seen in the teashop that day, making eyes at the woman who worshipped him to the point of idolatry, and whom he would soon betray.
    Now another woman worshipped him, unaware that his cruelty had killed Miss Draycott.
    He looked fine, Rosina thought bitterly, standing there in the doorway, apparently diffident, but actually allowing time for all eyes to fix admiringly on him.
    He was handsome, elegant, perfectly groomed. Also he had an air of authority and an obvious pride in himself that made him appear to be very much at home in this glittering company.
    Only she knew that he was a cruel, heartless schemer.
    She watched as Lord Blakemore summoned him to be introduced to someone of note and saw his ingratiating manner. And she hated him.
    Finally, when he had oiled his way around the assembled company, he came over to where the girl who loved him was waiting.
    "Forgive me," he said contritely to Lady Doreen. "For myself, I longed to come to you at once – "
    "But you had your duty to do first," she said. "Arthur, let me introduce my friend, Miss Rosina Clarendon. Rosina, this is Arthur Woodward."
    He bowed low over her hand and she had to fight not to snatch it away in disgust.
    "Miss Clarendon, this is an honour. I admire your father greatly. In fact, everyone who knows him must admire him."
    She longed, as she had never longed for anything before, to reply by telling him how much she hated and despised him. But that was impossible, so she murmured conventional