The Saint and the Sinner (5 page)

But in their bonnets festooned with ostrich feathers, their taffeta cloaks, and their gowns bedecked with lace and ribbons, they were as colourful and eye-catching as a collection of hummingbirds.

“We’ll go and dress,” the one who was called Hettie exclaimed, “and we’ve brought our best gowns with us to do justice to the ancestral mansion.”

She spoke mockingly and the Earl replied,

“You will certainly liven up this mausoleum, which, God knows, is what it needs!”

Pandora looked at him in surprise.

She loved the great house so much and admired its noble proportions and collection of treasures so whole-heartedly that she could hardly believe anyone would disparage such a possession.

As if the Earl sensed what she was feeling, he glanced at her, then said,

“If you are beginning to change your mind and wish to return home, there is time before you become contaminated.”

No-one else heard what he said, and Pandora looking up at him wondered if he realised that she was both bewildered and a little shocked.

Then she said quickly,

“No – of course not. You are very – kind to – have me, and I am sure it will have the – desired effect on Mr. Witheridge.”

“And that, of course, is all that matters,” the Earl said.

Pandora quickly hurried after the other women, who were already leaving the room.

Only as she joined them did she look back and see that while the Earl had turned to talk to one of his friends, Sir Gilbert was watching her in a manner that made her nervous.

As they all went up the Great Staircase, which had been used by so many famous Chart ancestors, Pandora gathered from the conversation that only Kitty had been in the house before.

“Lord, but it’s big enough to house an Army!” one of the actresses exclaimed.

“Why didn’t you ask the whole cast while you were about it, Kitty?” another suggested.

“Sir Edward Trentham has a house which is not far away,” Kitty answered. “Gabrielle is staying with him and a whole host of others. They are coming over to dinner.”

The others gave a shriek of delight and Pandora understood that Sir Edward was a special favourite. “Have you heard what he gave Gabrielle last week?” someone asked as they reached the top of the stairs.

“Not another diamond necklace?” someone else replied.

“No – a house in Chelsea, and he’s made the deeds over to her too!”

“God, she’s lucky!” Hettie exclaimed. “I won’t get anything like that out of Richard”

“You should stop him from gambling,” Kitty said, “he’s far too fond of the cards. It always infuriates me when men lose at the tables what they might have spent on me.”

“I agree with you,” Hettie replied.

She had hair that was so golden it was almost blinding and her eye-lashes were mascara-ed until they stuck out round her blue eyes like little matchsticks.

As they reached the landing Pandora saw that waiting for them was a Housekeeper whom she had never seen before.

She was surprised at not seeing dear old Mrs. Meadowfield, who had been at Chart Hall ever since Pandora could remember.

The new Housekeeper was younger and had the same supercilious, rather insolent manner, that Pandora had noticed in the new Butler.

“Good-evening, ladies!” the Housekeeper said, and somehow she made the last word sound like a question. “Let me show you to your rooms.”

As the others waited, Kitty said,

“You’ll be all right with Mrs. Jenkins. And don’t be late! It annoys His Lordship if the soufflés are flat – and that’s more than any of us’ll be this evening!”

She turned away as she spoke and walked down the corridor to a room that Pandora realised was next to the Master Bedroom, where her grandfather had always slept.

Mrs. Jenkins showed the other ladies to bedrooms which, Pandora saw, were each one away from the next, with another room in between.

She wondered at this arrangement, remembering that, when her mother had acted as hostess at Chart Hall after her grandmother’s death, she had always accommodated the single men and women in separate wings.

She was the last to receive the Housekeeper’s attention.

“Now for you, Miss Stratton,” she said in a somewhat familiar tone, “I’ve put you in the Rose Room.”

“Oh, I am glad!” Pandora cried. “It was always one of my favourite rooms and I love the view over the garden!”

Mrs. Jenkins looked at her and said,

“Is it really true you’re His Lordship’s cousin?”

“Yes, indeed,” Pandora answered. “My mother was Lady Eveline Chart before she married, and the old Earl was my grandfather.”

“You’ll find things a bit different now,” Mrs. Jenkins said.

Pandora did not know how to answer this. Instead, she went eagerly into the Rose Room to find that her trunk was being unpacked by a maid whom she recognised.

“Good-evening, Mary!” she said. “How nice to find you here! I did not know you were working at the Hall.”

“She’s new,” Mrs. Jenkins said before Mary could speak. “I hope, Miss, if she’s not up in her duties you’ll tell me, and I’ll find someone else.”

“I am sure Mary will look after me admirably,” Pandora replied.

“These country girls seem very ignorant to me,” Mrs. Jenkins said with a sniff.

Mary did not speak until the Housekeeper had left the room. Then she said to Pandora,

“I’m ever so glad to see you, Miss Pandora, that I am! Things be very different here now t’ what they was when I used t’ come t’ give Mother a hand when His Lordship entertained.”

“Have you been engaged permanently?” Pandora enquired.

“I hopes so, Miss,” Mary replied, ‘but there’s been so many o’ the old staff sacked and new ones brought in. None of us in the village seem to know where we are.”

“What is your mother doing?” Pandora asked.

“She be helping in the kitchen, Miss. She says as how the Chef gets into such tempers that she be real terrified of him.”

“I hear he is French, so tell your mother not to worry,” Pandora said with a smile. “I expect you are both glad of the money.”

“We are indeed, Miss!”

Pandora thought that Mary might get into trouble if she stood talking for too long when she had another lady to attend to.

“Come back a little later to do up my gown,” she said. “I can manage, as you well know.”

“When they told me as you was here, Miss, you could’ve knocked me down with a feather!” Mary said. “I never thinks I’ll see you at Chart Hall, not after the things we’ve heard of the goings-on and suchlike.”

Pandora felt it would be extremely disloyal to the Earl if she encouraged Mary to gossip, but she was well aware that the girl was longing to unburden herself.

“Leave me now, Mary, and come back in about a quarter of an hour.”

“Very good, Miss.”

Mary moved the trunk from the centre of the room and set it against the wall.

“I’ll finish the unpacking later, when you’ve gone down to dinner, Miss,” she said.

As she reached the door she added,

“I’m glad you’re here, Miss, real glad!”

She left and Pandora, with a little frown between her brows, went on undressing.

There had been a note of fear in Mary’s voice that she had not liked. It made her feel worried and apprehensive as to what was happening at Chart Hall.

She knew she did not like the new servants and it was not just prejudice because the old staff had been dismissed.

She wondered what her father and mother would have thought of the Earl.

He was certainly very strange – perhaps “eccentric” was the right word – and yet, Pandora told herself, she did not dislike him as she had disliked on sight Sir Gilbert Longridge.

‘It is no use my having fads and fancies about these people,’ she thought. ‘I came here because I was desperate, and I must make the best of them, whatever they are like.’

She could not, however, help feeling that it was all very strange, but she was certain of one thing – Prosper Witheridge would disapprove wholeheartedly of Kitty, Hettie, Lottie, and Caro, as the third actress was called.

She had heard him say that Play-Houses were a snare for the unwary and a meeting-place of sinners.

“I am sure after this he will not wish to own me,” she declared.

Her thoughts shied away from what her uncle and aunt would say when they knew where she had been.

“If the Earl will keep me,” she declared, “I will stay until Friday morning, for if I go back to the Palace earlier, Prosper will be waiting to berate me.”

She could imagine how sanctimonious and pompous he would be about it. Almost as if thinking about him conjured him up, when Mary returned a little while later she said,

“I was to tell you, Miss, as there’s a gentleman waiting to see you downstairs.”

“A gentleman?” Pandora asked in surprise.

“The footman says he’s a Parson, Miss.”

Pandora’s heart gave a frightened leap.

There was no doubt who her visitor was, but she had not expected him to be here so quickly.

Then she realised it was seven o’clock and if he had arrived back at Lindchester a little earlier than she had expected he would have had time to get here after reading her letter.

“I should have had it delivered tomorrow,” she told herself, but now it was too late.

Mary was fastening her evening-gown.

It had been one of her mother’s that she had altered for herself and she had packed it because she considered it to be her best. She felt too it was somehow right that it should be worn once again at Chart Hall.

She was however well aware that it would seem very simple and perhaps out-of-date beside the flamboyant gowns that the actresses would wear, but their appearance, while colourful, was undoubtedly vulgar, and she knew that neither her father nor her mother would have approved of them.

She was too agitated at the thought of Prosper Witheridge waiting for her downstairs to look at her reflection in the mirror.

Instead, she clasped round her long neck the little band of turquoise-blue velvet which matched the ribbons of her gown, then she said to Mary,

“I must go down. Is there anyone else downstairs?”

“It’s unlikely, Miss. The housemaids say the ladies are never ready till the last moment, ‘cause they takes such hours apainting their faces.”

Pandora stood irresolute for a moment, then she said,

“Do you think, Mary, you could get one of the footmen to tell His Lordship who is here?”

“Yes, of course, Miss, and he’ll tell His Lordship’s valet.”

“Say that the gentleman to whom I sent a letter has called here to see me.”

“Very good, Miss,” Mary answered.

Pandora hesitated.

She wanted not to go downstairs until perhaps the Earl volunteered to go with her.

Then she told herself she must not be a coward, and it was impossible to expect a man she had just met, even though he was her cousin, to involve himself in her personal problems.

Holding her head high, but at the same time aware that her heart was thumping uncomfortably in her breast, she walked slowly down the Great Staircase.

Somehow the sight of her ancestors looking down at her from their portraits on the walls seemed to give her courage.

‘Help me!’ Pandora cried to them silently. ‘Why should I be afraid of a man like Prosper Witheridge?’

But she was afraid, and her fingers were cold as she reached the hall. The Butler who was waiting there said to her,

“I’ve put your caller, Miss, in the Small Salon.”

He spoke in a way which told Pandora he was enjoying what he felt was a drama, and she replied with a cold dignity,

“Thank you. I presume that we are meeting in the Silver Salon before dinner?”

“That’s right, Miss,” the Butler replied.

She thought that he looked at her in a slightly more respectful manner, realising she was used to the ways of the house.

He opened the door of the Small Salon, which was a room her mother had loved and where she had often received visitors when her grandfather had been too ill to entertain them himself.

Prosper Witheridge was standing with his back to the marble mantelpiece, looking, Pandora realised with a sinking of her heart, particularly aggressive.

He was so angry that there was a frown between his protruding eyes, which were set too close together, and there was a hard line to his thin lips.

Pandora heard the door shut behind her and she forced herself to walk slowly and in a dignified manner towards him.

He waited until she had reached him. Then he said in a voice in which his anger was barely concealed,

“Have you gone raving mad? Are you crazy that you should have come here?”

“As I told you in my letter, I am staying with my cousin.”

“Then pack your box. I will take you back immediately,” Prosper Witheridge said sharply.

“My cousin has asked me to stay here as his guest, which I intend to do.”

“I can only assume you have taken leave of your senses,” he replied. “You know full well it is something which your aunt and uncle would not countenance, and your sensibility should tell you this is not a house in which you should stay.”

“It is the house which belonged to my grandfather.”

“But his place has been taken by a dissolute Rake and I will not allow you to remain in his company for one more second.”

“You have no authority to stop me.”

“As your future husband – ” Prosper Witheridge began.

“I will not marry you! Let me make it quite clear here and now,” Pandora interrupted, “that I would not marry you if you were the last man in the world!”

For a moment the Honourable Prosper Witheridge was stunned into silence.

He was a very conceited man and so many women had flattered and fawned on him that it had never for one moment crossed his mind that Pandora would not fall into his arms gladly and gratefully.

“Do you know what you are saying?” he asked.

The surprise in his voice would have amused Pandora if she had not found it difficult to think of anything but her thumping heart.

I will not – marry you!” she said, a determined note in her voice.

“After you have stayed here it is unlikely that any man will offer you marriage.”