Emily looked around to see how many people were here, and as her gaze passed from one group to another, she saw the light on coifs of gleaming silver hair on a proud head.
“Aunt Vespasia,” she burst out with astonishment and pleasure. “Look, Jack!” She pulled violently at his sleeve. “Great-Aunt Vespasia is here!”
He turned in surprise, and then his face broke into a smile of intense delight. He made his way over to her, pushing through the crowd.
“Aunt Vespasia! How very nice of you to have come!”
She turned and surveyed him with calm, amused eyes, but there was a flush of excitement in her cheeks.
“Of course I came,” she exclaimed. “Surely you did not think I would miss such an occasion?”
“Well it is … late,” he said in sudden embarrassment. “And I may well … not win.”
“Of course you may,” she agreed. “But either way, you have given him an excellent battle. He will know he has seen a fight.” She lifted her chin a little and there was a gleam of belligerence in her eyes.
Jack was about to add something when there was a sudden hush over the hall and everyone swung around to see the returning officer rise to his feet.
There followed a heart-lurching space while he went through all the formal preamble, waiting a moment, savoring all the drama and the power. Then he announced that by a margin of twelve votes, the member of Parliament for the constituency would be John Henry Augustus Radley.
Emily let out a squeal of sheer relief.
Jack gasped and then let out his breath in a long sigh.
Nigel Uttley stood stiff-lipped and unbelieving.
“Congratulations, my dear.” Aunt Vespasia turned to Jack and, reaching forward very gently, kissed him on the cheek. “You will do excellently.”
He blushed with self-conscious happiness and was too full of emotion to speak.
The party to celebrate the victory was held the following evening. It was a somewhat hasty affair since Emily had not prepared it with her usual care. She had not dared to believe it would be called for. Of course all those who had helped in the campaign were invited, with their wives, and those who had offered their support in his cause. Naturally his family were included, which was actually Emily’s family. Charlotte and Pitt accepted immediately. There was a charming note of congratulation from Caroline, but no word as to whether she would attend or not.
It began early as people arrived breathless with the thrill of victory. Voices were raised, faces flushed, and everyone talked at once, full of ideas and hopes of change.
“It’s only one new member,” Jack said, trying to appear modest and keep some sort of perspective to things. “It doesn’t change the government.”
“Of course it doesn’t,” Emily agreed, standing very close to him and quite unable to take the enormous smile from her face. “But it is a beginning. It is a turning of the tide. Uttley is furious.”
“He most certainly is,” a large woman agreed cheerfully, balancing her glass of champagne in one hand, the enormous lace ruffles on her shoulders and sleeves endangering passersby. “Bertie says in spite of what the newspapers have been saying, he was taken completely by surprise. He really believed he was going to win.”
Bertie, who had only been paying half attention, now turned towards Jack with a serious expression on his benign face.
“Actually, old boy, he really was very put out indeed.” He bit into a petit four. “You have a nasty enemy there. I should be very careful of him if I were you.”
For a moment their conversation was obliterated by the sound of chatter, clinking glasses, a swish of fabric and slither of leather soles upon the floor.
“Oh really, my dear,” his wife responded as soon as she could make herself heard. “He must have considered the possibility of losing, surely? No one enters any competition without knowing someone has to lose.”
“Uttley did not believe it would be he.” Bertie leaned towards them, growing even graver. “And it is not merely losing a seat he believed was his in all but name. He has lost a great deal more, so I hear.”
His wife was confused. “What more? What are you talking about? Do explain yourself, my dear. You are not making sense.”
Bertie disregarded her and kept his eyes on Jack.
“There’s a great deal about it I don’t understand, powerful forces at work, if you know what I mean.” Bertie for once ignored his sparkling glass. “One hears whispers, if one is in the right place at the right time. There are people …” He hesitated, glancing at Emily, then back to Jack. “People behind the people one knows …”
Jack said nothing.
“Powerful forces?” Emily asked, then wished she had not. As a woman, she was not supposed to know about such things, still less at least half understand what he meant.
“Nonsense,” Bertie’s wife said briskly. “He lost because people preferred Jack. It’s as simple as that. Really, you are making a secret where there is none.”
“The people who voted obviously preferred Jack,” Bertie said patiently, sipping at his glass again. “But they were not the ones who blackballed Uttley from his club.” He looked at Jack meaningfully over his wife’s head. “Be careful, old fellow, that’s all. There’s something going on a great deal more than meets the eye. And those with the real power are not always whom one supposes.”
Jack nodded, his face grave, but the smile did not fade from his lips. “Now do have some more champagne. You surely deserve it as much as anyone.”
When everyone had been welcomed, thanked and congratulated and the toasts drunk, Emily at last made her
