The Saint and the Sinner (12 page)

Pandora drew in her breath.

“It was rather different from being given a Ball at – Chart House.”

Her voice cracked on the last word and she spurred her horse forward so that the Earl should not see the tears which gathered in her eyes.

She told herself a moment later that she should not have complained to him.

She had not really meant to, but it was hard sometimes, especially when she was at Chart, not to resent the misery and unhappiness that living with her uncle and aunt had brought her.

After they had visited the Mill where their own grain was ground, the Earl said reluctantly:

“I suppose we ought to go back.”

Pandora had forgotten the time and now she asked,

“How late is it?”

“Nearly a quarter after five.”

“So late?” she exclaimed. “I have not shown you half the things I meant to.”

“There is always tomorrow,” he answered.

“Yes, of course,” Pandora said, and it was an expression of relief.

There were still two days before her uncle and aunt returned, at which time she supposed she would have to go back to Lindchester.

“I had no idea until Farrow told me,” the Earl said as they turned their horses towards the great house, “how many people I employ.”

He was speaking reflectively and after a moment Pandora said:

“I will not say the obvious.”

“But you are thinking it. You are thinking that I am the wrong person to be here simply because I have not shown myself to be interested enough to find these things out before.”

“I was not thinking that at all,” Pandora contradicted.

“Then tell me what you were thinking.”

“Do you want the truth?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking that it was useless for you to fight Chart, which will capture you, hold you, and entrance you, because it is not only so beautiful but also so interesting. There are so many things that need to be done.”

“What sort of things?”

“New houses to be built, new quarries to be opened, other parts of the land to be cultivated. Papa used to say that, after Uncle George died, Grandpapa let things go. And even in four years things can get out-of-date, and go backwards instead of forwards.”

“I understand what you are trying to say,” the Earl said. “And what would your answer be if I told you I prefer my riotous, dissolute life in the gaiety of London?”

He spoke aggressively, but Pandora knew that he was fencing with her again.

She looked at him and realised that he not only rode well but looked part of his horse.

“There is a parable in the Bible,” she replied after a moment, “about the Prodigal Son.”

“But he was eating husks and sitting amongst swine,” the Earl replied.

“You must know by now what sort of companions they make,” Pandora answered provocatively.

“If you are speaking of my friends,” the Earl replied, “I think I shall beat you. It is certainly what you deserve!”

She had anticipated what his reaction would be, and now she laughed at him over her shoulder and touched her horse with her whip, galloping away from him at a wild pace.

They crossed the park, the Earl trying vainly to catch up with her, and only as they reached the stone bridge did Pandora draw in her horse and wait for him to come to her side.

“I won’t,” she cried. “So you must be ... magnanimous and ... forgive me.”

She spoke a little breathlessly.

“I will let you off this time,” the Earl said, “but be careful, Pandora, and remember that I am a dark Chart and have a temper.”

She laughed again as they rode side-by-side over the bridge.

“Are you a fisherman?” she asked, looking down at the silvery water.

“I used to be,” he replied, “and rather fancied myself a good one.”

“Then if you are very good,” Pandora promised, “I will show you where Papa used to catch the most delicious brown trout.”

“Perhaps we could have a picnic,” the Earl said, and to show you how good I am, we will rely for our meal on the trout I catch.”

“It would be very ignominious if we came home hungry,” Pandora remarked.

“If the trout are there, I promise you we will not!” the Earl said confidently.

The grooms were waiting for them at the front door, and as Pandora dismounted she thought what fun such a picnic would be.

Then it suddenly struck her that the Earl might bring Kitty and the others with him.

She had almost forgotten that there was anyone else staying at Chart Hall, until as she went up the stairs to change her clothes she heard voices and laughter coming from the Salon.

She changed into one of her simple afternoon-gowns and when she came downstairs it was to find that the rest of the party were already drinking and Kitty and Caro were amongst them.

The actresses were all gowned in silks and gauzes in brilliant colours, flashing with jewellery, the makeup on their faces hiding the ravages of their over-indulgence of the night before.

They were very noisy but, as Pandora came into the Salon, Kitty asked aggressively,

“Where the hell have you been all this time? I heard you’d gone out riding with my young man.”

“I have been showing my cousin some of the Estate,” Pandora replied, “and I am afraid we forgot the time – there were so many people for him to see.

“And so much for you to say to him, no doubt,” Kitty said sourly.

Burrows had followed Pandora into the Salon and now he asked,

“Would you like some tea, Miss Pandora?”

“I would indeed,” Pandora answered. “Thank you, Burrows, for thinking of it.”

She saw that behind him were two footmen carrying in a silver tray on which there was the beautiful Queen Anne tea-pot and the milk and sugar basins which had always been used in her mother’s time.

There were the sandwiches, fairy-cakes, and other delicacies that were traditional, and as they were set down in front of an armchair, Pandora, looking at Hettie and Caro, asked,

“Would anyone else like tea?”

“Who wants tea when you can have champagne?” Caro replied scornfully.

“I should like some,” Sir Gilbert said, deliberately putting down his glass and coming to stand beside the tea-table.

“Milk and sugar?” Pandora asked politely, pouring it out for him.

She knew he was staring at her in the manner she most disliked, and she deliberately looked away as she handed him his cup of tea.

“I was afraid you might have left,” he said in a low voice, seating himself beside her. “I was reassured when I learnt you had only gone riding.”

“I cannot see why it should interest you particularly,” Pandora remarked unwisely.

“Then I will tell you why,” he said, “but it would be easier to do so if we were alone.”

She did not answer but busied herself with pouring out her own tea.

She also took one of the sandwiches, still keeping her head turned as far away as she could from Sir Gilbert.

“You are very lovely!” he said. “And I should like to have seen you on a horse. If I had known that you could ride, I would have refused Trentham’s invitation and stayed here.”

“My cousin and I had business to attend to,” Pandora said coldly.

“Well, now you are free,” Sir Gilbert said, “and you can attend to me.”

“I think it will soon be time to change for dinner.”

“Come and show me the Picture Gallery, for I have never seen it before.”

“There will not be time.”

“You are being very elusive,” Sir Gilbert said, “but I assure you I am a very determined hunter and a very successful one.”

Pandora told herself she should not be drawn into such a conversation, but she knew he deliberately gave everything he said an ulterior meaning.

Instead she finished her sandwich and drank her tea without speaking, vividly conscious of the man sitting next to her.

Then, to her relief, the Earl came into the Salon. The women gave a scream of delight at the sight of him, but he ignored them and as he walked across the room towards Pandora she saw that he carried something in his hand.

It was a silk handkerchief and it contained something heavy, which he put down in her lap.

She looked at him in surprise as he said:

“You were quite right – Farrow found them. He insisted upon searching Dalton’s luggage before he left the house.”

Pandora opened the handkerchief. Inside were four snuff-boxes.

She gave a little cry of sheer delight.

“There are several others missing,” the Earl said, “but Dalton has confessed where he sold them and Farrow thinks he can get them back.”

“Oh, I am glad!” Pandora exclaimed. She held up one of the snuff-boxes.

“Do you realise this was given by Peter the Great to our ancestor who was the Ambassador to Saint Petersburg? I should have been miserable if it had been lost.”

The Earl was about to say something when there was an interruption.

“Why the hell are you giving her presents?” Kitty asked furiously.

She looked at the snuff-box in Pandora’s hand and cried,

“And diamonds tool If there’s any diamonds to be had, I’m having them, and make no mistake about it.

She would have snatched the box from Pandora’s hand but the Earl put out his arm and prevented her.

“They are not a present for Pandora,” he said coldly. “They belong to the house, but were stolen by one of the servants.”

“You expect me to believe that nonsense?” Kitty asked. “And even if it’s true – give them to me!”

“They are of no use to you,” the Earl said good-humouredly. “You cannot wear them round your neck or in your ears.”

“They contain diamonds, which can be reset,” Kitty exclaimed furiously.

Pandora laid the snuff-box back in the handkerchief with the others and rose to her feet.

“I will put them back in their proper places,” she said.

“Oh, no you won’t!” Kitty screamed.

Now she escaped the Earl’s restraining arm and flew at Pandora.

She took her by surprise and as she pushed at her in an effort to snatch the weighted handkerchief, Pandora stumbled and would have fallen if to her consternation Sir Gilbert had not prevented her from doing so.

“That is enough, Kitty!” the Earl said angrily. “Behave yourself! I have told you-the snuff-boxes belong to my house and nobody is going to remove them from it.”

He spoke forcibly in a way that surprised both Kitty and Pandora.

Pandora tried to disengage herself from the overly protective arms of Sir Gilbert.

“Thank you,” she said. “I am quite all right now.”

“I am prepared to hold you as long as is necessary.”

“It is unnecessary,” she replied.

The Earl, grappling with Kitty, suddenly seemed to realise what was happening.

“Let her go, Gilbert,” he said. “And the sooner the snuff-boxes are in their proper places, the better!”

Reluctantly Sir Gilbert took his arms from Pandora.

“You are adorably soft to hold,” he said softly against her ear.

She walked to the end of the room to set two of the snuff-boxes down on a Louis XIV table. Then, without looking round, she walked quickly from the room, shutting the door behind her.

The two other snuff-boxes came from the Library, and when she put them back she saw, as she had feared, that three others were missing, all very valuable ones set with precious stones and emblazoned with enamel-work.

“What we must have here is another Curator,” she said to herself.

The previous Curator had died about three years ago and had never been replaced, but she knew that his catalogue of the contents of the house would be in the desk that he had always used in the Estate office.

She thought she would ask Michael Farrow tomorrow if he could think of anyone who was prepared to take up such a position.

Then she told herself that that would be a mistake.

She would be interfering.

She tried to think of what her mother would have done, and she knew that she must try to put the idea into the Earl’s head that a Curator was necessary. But the suggestion of finding one must come from him.

‘If I am to help him I must be clever about it,’ Pandora told herself. ‘Men hate bossy women, and once he wants to run the house himself he will resent my interference or anyone else’s.’

It was one thing to think things out logically and calmly, and quite another not to feel that it was a question of time.

The sands were running out and soon the retribution which hung over her head like the sword of Damocles would fall, when her uncle returned to Lindchester on Friday.

‘There are still two days,’ she thought with an irrepressible feeling of joy, and she determined to make use of every minute of those days.

She ran upstairs to find Mary almost hysterical with happiness.

“Things are ever so different already, Miss,” she said. “From the moment Mrs. Meadowfield arrived, everything began t’ change.”

“I thought it would,” Pandora said with a smile.

“Two of the housemaids left with Mrs. Jenkins because they’d come with her,” Mary went on. “We’re short-handed but the rest of us will work our fingers t’ the bone, that we will, Miss, t’ make things as they ought t’ be.”

While Pandora was dressing, Mrs. Meadowfield came to see her.

“You have everything you want, Miss Pandora?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Meadowfield,” Pandora answered. “It is so delightful to have you here.”

Mrs. Meadowfield smiled her appreciation. She was wearing the black gown with its taffeta apron that Pandora remembered, and the silver chatelaine with its clanking keys hung from her waist.

She sent Mary on an errand and when the girl was gone she said to Pandora,

“I’ve never seen anything like the mess everything’s in, Miss Pandora. I don’t know what your mother would have said, I don’t really! The linen’s all topsy-turvy, the rooms aren’t properly spring-cleaned, and a lot of things are broken or missing.”

“I am sure you will soon put everything right again,” Pandora said.

“I hopes so, Miss. His Lordship shouldn’t be using the State Bed-Rooms for… ”

She stopped suddenly, but Pandora was well aware of what she had been about to say.

“We have to help His Lordship, Mrs. Meadowfield,” she said. “It takes a long time to know Chart in the way you and I know it. He wants to learn, but, since he is a man, we must not push him too hard at first.”