The Saint and the Sinner (17 page)

Again Freddie met Pandora’s eyes and after a moment he said, turning to Richard,

“Who is going to take Kitty?”

“Will she leave?” Richard enquired.

“It is time she went back to London anyway for rehearsals,” Freddie said. “She will not want to lose her part in
The Beggar’s Opera.”

Then you persuade her,” Richard said dryly.

“Is Ellison putting on that old show again?” Clive enquired.

“It is always a success,” Freddie replied, “and with Madame Vestris as Captain Macheath in breeches, how could it fail?”

Pandora was listening and she thought it extraordinary that any woman should be prepared to appear in public wearing men’s attire.

She wondered what Prosper Witheridge would say if he knew that one of the play-actresses of whom he so heartily disapproved not only appeared on a stage but actually without a skirt.

Her expression must have shown what she was thinking, because Freddie said with a smile,

“You are not the only person who is shocked, Pandora. Women often swoon in the audience when they see Madame Vestris and Kitty prancing about in their breeches.”

“I expect I am old-fashioned,” Pandora said.

She rose from the table and walked towards the door. As she reached it she said,

“Please – will you tell – Miss King about – Norvin?”

She saw by his expression that it was not a task which he fancied, but he smiled at her and answered, “I will, but it is an extraordinary thing that if there is any dirty work to do it is always I who have to do it!”

Pandora heard the other men chaffing him as she hurried upstairs.

She went to the Earl’s room and beckoned Mrs. Meadowfield out into the corridor so that they could speak without having to lower their voices.

“The guests are all leaving as soon as everything is packed,” she said.

“That’s good news, Miss Pandora,” Mrs. Meadowfield replied. “We don’t want anyone disturbing His Lordship, do we?”

“No, of course not,” Pandora agreed, “and I think, Mrs. Meadowfield, the snuff-boxes which have been neglected while you have been away need cleaning.” She did not need to say any more: she could see by the expression on Mrs. Meadowfield’s face that she understood exactly what she meant.

As the Housekeeper hurried away down the passage, Pandora went into the Earl’s bedroom.

He was lying as she had left him, but she thought his face was paler still than it had been before, and there was blood already beginning to seep through the clean linen with which the Doctor had bandaged his head.

She sat down beside the bed.

How could it be possible, she wondered, that in so short a time she could have lost her heart completely to a man who stood for everything that her uncle the Bishop of Lindchester thought of as wicked and evil?

She could understand what he had felt when his father had been allowed to die because there had been no help from any of the Charts.

She could also understand how bitterly her grandfather had hated anyone, whoever it might be, who would take the place of his beloved son George.

She tried to imagine what the Earl had done in London when he had inherited a huge fortune and because he hated the Charts had been determined to dissipate it.

She had only to think of Kitty still sleeping next door to know that he had turned instinctively to women who were denounced as outrageous and immoral. Women, as her aunt had said, in whose company no decent man would be seen.

He had meant to behave indecently and he had succeeded, but now it was not Kitty King who had been instrumental in his being injured in a duel, but Pandora herself.

As if her thought of Kitty conjured up the actress, Pandora heard her speaking loudly and angrily outside in the passage. A moment later there was a loud knock on the door.

Hastily Pandora opened it, and found Kitty arguing with Freddie, who was obviously trying to prevent her from entering the Earl’s bedroom.

“You are not going to keep him from me,” she said furiously, and added as Pandora appeared: “Nor you either, you milk-faced, so-called cousin!”

Pandora shut the door behind her and stood against it.

Kitty was wearing only an elaborate lace trimmed wrap over her nightgown and her face was not yet painted, powdered, or mascara-ed.

Even so, with her red hair untidy and her lips their natural colour, she looked very attractive.

Her skin was blotchy from excessive drinking and there were dark lines under her eyes, but she was still exceptionally lovely and Pandora could understand why the Earl was infatuated with her.

Aloud she said calmly,

“You have been told that my cousin was injured in a duel? Sir Gilbert shot him in the head and the Doctor says he must have complete quiet.”

“I don’t believe you!” Kitty snarled. “It’s a trick of yours to keep me away from him.”

“You can see for yourself,” Pandora answered. “But I beg of you, if you have any feelings at all for him, do not speak or make a noise.”

She thought Kitty was going to say something rude, but as Pandora opened the door quickly and stepped inside the darkened room, Kitty followed her towards the great four-poster bed in which all the heads of the family had slept since the reign of Charles II.

It was so tall that the ostrich-feathers above the carved and gilded posts almost touched the painted ceiling.

Emblazoned on the velvet back was the colourful coat-of-arms of the family with its innumerable armorial bearings.

Kitty approached the bed and for once it seemed she was awed into silence. After staring at the Earl for a few seconds she turned and walked out of the room.

Freddie was waiting in the corridor.

“Is he going to die?” Kitty asked abruptly.

“We hope not.”

“It looks to me as if he’ll be ill for a long time. “

“There is always that possibility,” Freddie agreed. “I suppose you’d better take me back to London.”

“It would be wise,” he said, “and, as I have already told you, there are rehearsals for you to think about.”

Kitty was considering, then she made up her mind and looked at Pandora.

“All right,” she said harshly, “you win! But I’m not leaving here without money. Only God knows how I’m going to manage until he’s well again.”

Pandora looked at Freddie in perplexity.

He raised his eye-brows in an expressive gesture which told her that she would not get rid of Kitty unless she gave her what she required.

“How – how much do you – want?” Pandora enquired.

As much as I can get!” Kitty replied. “At least one hundred pounds.”

“One hundred pounds?”

It seemed to her an immense sum of money and she thought wildly that it would be impossible, even if they were willing to do so, to provide so much.

Then she remembered that Michael Farrow, now that he was the agent, could draw on the Estate account.

She thought perhaps she should argue with Kitty and say that she was asking too much. Then she knew that Kitty would not lower her demand.

“I will see if that sum is available,” she replied curtly. “In the meantime, will you ring for a maid to pack for you?”

“Very much the ‘Lady of the Manor’ at the moment, aren’t you?” Kitty said with a sneer. “Well, make the most of it while he’s too weak to say what he wants. He’ll be back to me as soon as he can put a foot to the ground. Make no mistake about that!” She walked into her bedroom as she spoke and slammed the door behind her.

“Can you manage to find one hundred pounds?” Freddie asked. “It seems a silly question in a place like this, but I know she will not budge without it.”

“I will find it somehow,” Pandora replied.

She went back into the Earl’s bedroom and rang the bell.

It was answered by his valet, a man who looked to Pandora to be as sensible as the Doctor had said he was.

“Will you find Mr. Michael Farrow?” Pandora asked. “He may be in the Estate office. If not, send a groom to discover where he is. I have to speak to him immediately.”

“Very good, Miss.”

He looked towards the bed. “His Lordship all right?”

“I think so. There is nothing more we can do for him until the Doctor comes back at noon.”

“That’s what I understood,” the valet said. “Is there anything I can bring you, Miss?”

“Not for the moment, thank you.”

He left, and Pandora walked back to her chair at the side of the bed.

Kitty’s words were ringing in her ears and she was sure in her heart that the actress was right.

When he was well enough the Earl would either want to go to London or would bring Kitty back here.

‘She is lovely,’ Pandora thought with a little sigh, and, except for when she was drunk, she had a
joie de
vivre which would amuse and fascinate any man.

‘How could I be like that?’ she asked herself silently.

She remembered how little she knew about men and how ignorant she was of the amusements of London. She was certain that they were far more entertaining to someone like the Earl than anything Chart could offer.

It was an effort to tell herself that that was the truth, but she had to face it.

One day she had managed to interest him in the workings of the great Estate, but she had not forgotten the surprise in his voice when he asked her if she expected him to live permanently in the country.

How could she expect him to feel as she did about Chart? Or to enjoy riding and hunting as her father had?

She looked at the Earl lying unconscious beside her and she wanted to go down on her knees and ask him to give himself a real chance to understand and to love Chart.

Then she told herself that he would be lonely even with Chart, unless he had someone with whom to share it, and that someone, she was certain, would be Kitty or a woman like her.

She heard a soft knock on the door and the valet entered.

“Mr. Farrow is downstairs in the Morning Room, Miss.”

“Will you stay with His Lordship?” Pandora asked. “I will not be long.”

“He’ll be safe with me, Miss, however long you are.”

“I am sure of that,” Pandora answered.

She ran along the corridor and down the Great Staircase.

Michael Farrow, looking large, solid, and trustworthy, was standing by the fireplace.

“I’m sorry to hear what has happened, Miss Pandora. How is His Lordship?”

“Dr. Graham says he should be all right in a few days,” Pandora answered, “but it is frightening to see him so quiet and still.”

“I can understand that,” Michael Farrow said sympathetically.

“I wanted to see you,” Pandora told him, “for two reasons. One is that I need one hundred pounds immediately.”

“Immediately?” Michael Farrow questioned, obviously surprised.

Then, as if he understood, he added quickly,

“I’ll manage it somehow, but there’ll be no time to go to the Bank in Lindchester.”

“Then borrow it from anyone who will lend it to you,” Pandora said, “and when you have it, hand it to Miss King.”

“I’ll do that, Miss Pandora.”

“The other thing I was going to suggest,” Pandora said, “is that your father, if he would, should go to London and close up Chart House.”

Again she saw surprise in Michael Farrow’s eyes, and she explained frankly.

“Things, as you know already, have a way of being stolen or of disappearing when they are not properly looked after. The Earl is ill, and anyway it is the end of the Season.”

She drew in her breath as she went on.

“I am taking it upon myself to suggest that your father should pay off the servants who were not in the employ of my grandfather and also should check what is missing before they leave.”

She did not say openly to Michael Farrow that she thought Kitty might in the Earl’s absence help herself to anything valuable that took her fancy.

She was quite certain Kitty would have tried to take the snuff-boxes when she left Chart Hall. Michael Farrow did not speak for a moment. Then he said,

“I wonder, Miss Pandora, if you’d think it a good idea if my father took Mr. Winslow with him to check the contents?”

“Mr. Winslow?” Pandora questioned.

Then she remembered that he had been the Headmaster of the big school in Lindchester until he had retired to the village, and her parents had found him to be a very intelligent man.

“He often tells my father how interested he is in the history of Chart Hall and the family collection,” Michael Farrow explained.

Pandora’s eyes lit up.

Here, perhaps, was the Curator she had been hoping to find.

She gave her wholehearted approval to Michael Farrow’s suggestion, and feeling that everything was being handled satisfactorily she went back to the Earl’s bedroom.

Dr. Graham arrived at noon and found that there was no change in his patient.

Pandora was walking with him down the stairs when she saw that everybody was gathered in the hall ready for departure.

The Phaetons were waiting outside, while the luggage was being strapped onto the back of them. The actresses looked as they had when they arrived, gaudily garbed in their taffeta capes and feather-bedecked bonnets.

They created a kaleidoscope of colour which seemed very alien to the dignity and good taste of the great Chart Hall.

Instinctively Pandora stopped when she saw who was waiting below, and she would not have proceeded had not the Doctor continued to walk down the stairs and she felt she must go with him.

“We are just waiting to say good-bye, Pandora,” Freddie said, moving away from the chattering actresses, “but we heard that the Doctor was with you.” “He is just leaving,” Pandora replied.

She introduced Dr. Graham and Freddie said, “I hope His Lordship will soon be well. I am sure if you need a second opinion you will not hesitate to send for a London Physician.”

“I have already thought of that,” Dr. Graham replied, “and I intend to discuss it with Miss Stratton.”

“Then I am sure my friend is in good hands,” Freddie said.

The men came to say good-bye to Pandora and Caro did the same. Only Hettie and Kitty, who had been whispering together, looked at her with unveiled enmity.