The Saint and the Sinner (6 page)

“I understood that when I came.”

“You are too young and innocent to know what you are saying or what you are doing,” Prosper Witheridge said, almost as if he were explaining her actions to himself.

“I do understand, and I have come here deliberately, because I wished to come and because whatever my uncle and aunt may say – I will not – marry – you!”

“You are talking arrant nonsense!” Prosper Witheridge snapped, and now he began to lose his temper. “I am taking you back with me now, and on return to the Palace I shall lock you in your bedroom, where you will stay until your uncle returns.”

“I will not allow you to do anything of the sort!” Pandora answered defiantly.

“You have no choice,” Prosper Witheridge said, and there was a grim note in his voice that she did not miss.

As he spoke he reached out and caught hold of her arm.

His action took her by surprise. She had never imagined he would actually touch her or, as she now realised, drag her away with him.

She struggled and his fingers bit into the softness of her skin.

“How dare you touch met” she cried. “Let me go!”

“You will come with me!” Prosper Witheridge said. “And I only hope that when your uncle returns he will punish you as you so richly deserve for your disgraceful behaviour!”

As he spoke, he started to drag her across the Salon, Pandora fighting every inch of the way.

She was very small and he was large, and she realised despairingly that it was a losing battle.

“Let me go” she cried, and screamed as he pulled her roughly to the door.

Even as they reached it, it opened and the Earl stood there.

He was in evening-dress and he looked not only tidier than he had previously, but almost resplendent in a meticulously tied white cravat and a closely fitting evening-coat over the long, hose-like pantaloons which had just come into fashion.

He stood still in the doorway, and Prosper Witheridge, dragging Pandora by the arm, was forced also to come to a standstill.

“May I enquire what is going on here?” the Earl asked, his voice icy.

“You are the Earl of Chartwood?” Prosper Witheridge asked without releasing Pandora.

“It is for me to ask the questions,” the Earl replied, “as you have come here uninvited.”

“I have come,” Prosper Witheridge replied, “to take a young girl, who has no right to impose upon Your Lordship, back to where she belongs.”

“On whose authority?”

“On mine!” he replied. “I am the private Chaplain to the Very Reverend Bishop of Lindchester!”

“How nice for you!” the Earl said mockingly. “And does that position entitle you to go round abducting young women from the homes of their relatives?”

“I am not abducting Miss Stratton,” Prosper Witheridge answered. “Her uncle, the Bishop, left her in my charge and I have just returned to Lindchester to find that she has embarked on this most regrettable escapade, which will deeply grieve those who out of the kindness of their hearts offered her a decent home.”

“Are you insinuating that my house is an indecent one?” the Earl asked.

There was a steely note in his voice, but Pandora knew by the look in his eyes that he was enjoying himself.

Prosper Witheridge was too angry to be cautious.

“Your Lordship is well aware,” he replied, “that Chart Hall is not a proper place for a young and innocent girl.”

“Is that your personal opinion?” the Earl questioned. “Because if it is, I should be interested to hear on what grounds you base such an assumption.”

Prosper Witheridge looked uncomfortable.

“There is no point in bandying words, Your Lordship,” he said. “I will, with your permission, take Miss Stratton home. I will arrange for her belongings to be collected tomorrow morning.”

“I do not give my permission!” the Earl replied. “My cousin is here as my guest, and here she may stay for as long as it suits her!”

“You cannot mean that!” Prosper Witheridge ejaculated.

“I should have thought that as an educated man you could understand plain English,” the Earl replied.

For the first time since they had been speaking, Prosper Witheridge released Pandora’s arm.

“This conversation is absurd,” he said harshly. “What Your Lordship does in your own private life is your affair, but Miss Stratton is too young and too unsophisticated to understand.”

“To understand what?” the Earl asked.

“That Your Lordship’s life-style and the friends with whom you associate are alien to anything she has ever known or imagined.”

“What do you know about my life-style and my friends?” the Earl asked.

He spoke mildly, almost pleasantly.

“I know,” Prosper Witheridge replied, raising his voice, “that it stinks in the nostrils of those who are godly! That what takes place here in this ancestral house is under the aegis of Satan himself.”

He roared the last words, and as he finished the Earl threw back his head and laughed.

“Very effective!” he said. “How much the spinsters of Lindchester must enjoy the fire and brimstone of Hell that you envisage for such sinners as myself! Well, Mr. Parson, let me make it quite clear, I am not impressed by your blusterings, and as I am just about to take my cousin into dinner, I suggest you return to those who appreciate your eloquence.”

The Earl spoke scathingly, but he did not raise his voice.

“If I leave I am taking Miss Stratton with me,” Prosper Witheridge roared.

The Earl was just about to reply when there was the patter of feet across the hall and Kitty and Caro appeared behind the Earl in the doorway.

“I thought we were to meet in the Sal… ” Kitty began, then saw Prosper Witheridge and exclaimed,

“Oh, who is this?”

“This gentleman,” the Earl replied, “is a messenger from the Lord to tell us that we will burn in the fires of Hell, and he is not prepared to offer us so much as a drop of cold water.”

“Cold water?” Caro cried. “Who wants that? I am dying – just dying – for a glass of champagne!”

She linked her arm through the Earl’s as if she intended to drag him away to find it for her.

Pandora glanced at Prosper Witheridge’s face and almost laughed aloud. There was no doubt that he was shocked at Kitty and Caro’s appearance, and it was in fact not surprising.

Pandora had never seen women wearing gowns which were cut so low and were so revealing.

There seemed to be a boundless expanse of white chest ornamented with jewelled necklaces, and the curves of their breasts could be seen clearly as the ribbons of their high-waisted gowns began only halfway down the valley between them.

Their faces were painted with what seemed almost white masks and their eye-lashes were mascara-ed in a way which made their eyes look enormous, especially as they were outlined in black as if they were on the stage.

Their hair was dressed with jewels and the glittering bracelets on their wrists only seemed to accentuate the nakedness of their arms.

Pandora thought that even to her father’s eyes they would have seemed fantastic, but to Prosper Witheridge they were representative of everything he denounced so fervently about the Play-Houses and the temptations in the way of those who attended them.

“Our guests will be arriving at any moment,” Kitty said. “Are you going to ask him to join us – he’ll give us a laugh, if nothing else!”

She jerked her thumb at Prosper Witheridge as she spoke, and the Earl replied,

“What a good idea! Do stay for dinner, Witheridge, and beguile us with your intimate knowledge of Satan’s ways. I am sure that even such ardent adherents of the Devil as ourselves will learn something new.”

Prosper Witheridge drew himself up.

He had gone pale with anger and disgust as he realised that to answer would merely make him a laughing-stock.

“I have nothing more to say, My Lord,” he said. “I will leave this house and this unfortunate girl, who has no idea of the depths of the cesspool in which she is preparing to drown herself.”

He took a step forward as he spoke, and the Earl made way for him.

“Do not let us keep you, Mr. Witheridge,” he said.

Prosper Witheridge turned to Pandora.

“You will regret this day!” he thundered. “You will remember for the rest of your life that the choice was yours to go upwards to the God who made you, or downwards to the Devil who has tempted you!”

His voice seemed to vibrate round the room. Then, as if he fancied himself a crusader defeated for the moment by the hordes of evil, he strode away.

He crossed the hall, snatching his black hat from the footman who held it out to him before he passed through the front door and down the steps to where a carriage was waiting.

“Hell’s bells!” Kitty exclaimed. “If you don’t want a drink after that – I do!”

“He was creepy!” Caro exclaimed. “I feel as if he cursed me!”

“He has cursed us all,” the Earl replied, “and most especially Pandora.”

He looked at her questioningly as he spoke, but Pandora gave a little sigh of sheer relief.

“He certainly will not want to marry me now.”

“He is more likely to have you branded as a scarlet woman and flogged through the streets of Lindchester,” the Earl replied.

“Did they really do things like that in the ‘bad old days’?” Kitty asked.

“It happens today,” the Earl replied, “so look out!”

“You’re trying to frighten me,” Kitty protested, “besides, except for my breeches and you, I’m almost respectable.”

“‘Almost’ being the operative word,” the Earl said. “But Caro is right, we all need a drink. These dramatics before dinner are extremely fatiguing.”

He walked towards the Salon and Pandora followed him.

She felt a little shaken by what had occurred, and the fury and contempt in Prosper Witheridge’s voice had affected her, even though she told herself the only thing that really mattered was that she was free of him.

There was now the worry of what her uncle and aunt would say, but she knew there was now no chance of Prosper forgiving her or, as he had intended, with the Bishop’s permission paying his addresses to her.

He was extremely ambitious and there was no doubt that one day he might end up a Bishop, but not if he had a wife whose behaviour was scandalous, and that was how it would appear in the eyes of those who lived in Lindchester.

‘I do not care!’ Pandora thought bravely.

They had no sooner reached the Salon where the rest of the house-party had already gathered than Sir Edward Trentham arrived with his house party.

Pandora remembered when she saw him that he had acquired an Estate in the County just before she had left Chart.

The previous owner had been a friend of her father’s, and now she remembered hearing that he had lost all his money at the gaming-tables. She thought Sir Edward must have been the winner.

It was easy to guess by the effusive manner in which the actresses greeted him that he was not only rich but generous. They all kissed him, throwing their arms round his neck.

Pandora saw that he was a man of about forty, somewhat flamboyantly dressed, as if he wished to appear younger than his age.

“Delighted to see you in your rightful background, Norvin,” he said to the Earl. “I have never been here before. Damned impressive house! What are you going to do with it?”

“Put up with it, I suppose!” the Earl replied. There was a shriek of laughter at this.

“That cannot be much of a hardship,” Sir Edward said. “I would not mind taking it from you in a game of chance.”

“Unfortunately, it is entailed,” the Earl replied, “but I assure you, my successor will get little more than the bare walls.”

Pandora felt she could not have heard him aright. What did he mean? Why did he speak in such a manner of this wonderful house which in itself was a page of history?

She wanted to ask for an explanation, but at that moment Sir Gilbert was beside her.

“I intend to look after you this evening, little Pandora,” he said, “and I cannot tell you how much the thought delights me. “

He took her hand as he spoke and raised it to his lips. Pandora felt a shudder go through her when his mouth touched her skin.

She felt the same way, she thought, about Prosper Witheridge, and wondered why she had the misfortune to attract such horrible men.

“I expected to find myself lonely and unwanted tonight,” Sir Gilbert was saying, “but instead I know that I shall be entranced and delighted in a manner which makes me excited even to think of it.”

His face was very near to hers and Pandora took a step backwards.

She hoped he would not be sitting next to her at dinner, but she found to her dismay that he was on her left, although she was relieved to find that the Earl was on her right.

Kitty was on their host’s other side and monopolised him by making him laugh and whispering in his ear in a manner which Pandora knew would never have happened at her mother’s dining-table.

So she was forced, whether she liked it or not, to talk to Sir Gilbert, and he made the most of it.

“You are very lovely!” he said. “Your eyes are a complete contrast to your hair, and they really are purple in the candlelight.”

He paused before he asked in an insinuating manner,

“Can I make them glow with the fires of desire?”

“That sounds like an extract from the sort of novel you would not find in this Library,” Pandora said coldly.

“Are you being provocative or merely unkind?” Sir Gilbert enquired.

“I think really such questions make me feel uncomfortable,” Pandora answered.

She told herself she was not afraid of him, that she just found him a bore. She would much rather look round and think how wonderful it was to be back in the huge Dining-Room where her grandfather and grandmother used to entertain when she was a little girl.

There had not been many parties after her Uncle George was killed at Waterloo.

After her grandmother died, her grandfather had sat alone at the end of the long table where the Earl was sitting now and old Burrows had laid out the family silver.

He would polish it with his rheumatic hands, but it reflected not guests but only the coats-of-arms embroidered on the empty chairs.