The Saint and the Sinner (9 page)

The sunshine was pouring in through the long windows and it turned Pandora’s hair into what seemed to be a halo of gold.

But her pansy-coloured eyes, so like the Earl’s, were dark and angry.

“What has happened? What has upset you?” he asked.

“Do you know what is going on in this house?”

His lips twisted mockingly as he replied,

“I have a good idea.”

As if she read his thoughts Pandora said,

“I am not referring to your friends, their behaviour does not concern me. But are you aware that a young housemaid, a girl of sixteen, was ordered by your housekeeper to go to Sir Gilbert’s room last night – or at least I am sure it was Sir Gilbert who – asked for her.”

“What are you talking about?” the Earl asked.

“I am telling you that Mary Clay, whose family I have known all my life, came here two days ago as a housemaid. She is a decent girl and, though she was somewhat nervous about having to work here, they needed the money as your new agent has sacked her father.”

“This all seems rather involved.”

“It is involved!” Pandora snapped. “But if you will please listen to what I have to say you will understand.”

She was shaking not with fear but fury, and the Earl raised his eye-brows as he sat down in one of the red leather arm-chairs and crossed his legs.

“Go on!” he said.

“I have every intention of doing so,” Pandora answered, “Mary’s grandmother has already been turned out of her cottage to make way for some protégé of Mr. Anstey’s. There is no money coming in for the family except what the mother and now Mary are earning, and there are four other children.”

Pandora drew in her breath before she continued,

“This girl has been told by your Housekeeper that unless she goes to a certain gentleman’s bedroom when he wants her, her whole family will be turned into the street – every one of them!”

Pandora’s voice was vibrant with anger, and after a moment the Earl said,

“Can this really be the truth?”

“But of course it is the truth!” Pandora answered. “And while I am not concerned with your friends, these people are mine – the people whom Papa loved and looked after, the people who came to my mother with their problems.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke of her mother, but her voice was still angry as she continued,

“Mrs. Meadowfield, who looked after the girls who worked here, has been sent away, and this wicked harridan has been put in her place. I remember you said last night that it was nothing to do with you that Burrows, the former Butler, had gone.”

She looked at the Earl as if she expected him to contradict her, then went on,

“Burrows protested because he felt he was one of the family. Count the snuff-boxes now and see how many are missing! The money had gone into your new butler’s pocket, just as Grandpapa’s best wines have flowed down the new butler’s throat!”

Pandora paused for breath, then went on,

“I did not believe, could not credit, that the things I had heard about you were true. But they are true! And they are happening at Chart Hall, which is a part of you whether you admit it or not.”

Her voice broke as she asked,

“How can you do this? How can you be so cruel – so insensitive as to – destroy what those of our blood have – died to – preserve?”

Now the tears ran down Pandora’s cheeks. She took no heed of them, but merely went on staring at the Earl, the anger still in her eyes, which were so like his.

For a moment he neither moved nor spoke. Then he said in a voice that seemed somehow as tense as hers,

“You have spoken bluntly, Pandora, and I have listened to your accusations. Now perhaps you would like to hear my side of the story.”

She did not answer, and he went on,

“Ever since I inherited I have done my best to disgrace the name of Chartwood, and I intend to dissipate or disperse everything this house contains, as I have already begun on the contents of Chartwood House in London.”

“But why? Why?” Pandora cried.

“That is what you shall hear,” the Earl answered.

He rose to his feet as he spoke, as if it would thus be easier to confront her, and said in a hard voice,

“My father, as you know, was a distant cousin of your grandfather’s, and when he was a young man he fell in love with a very beautiful woman. She was ostracised by every member of the Chart family because they called her a ‘play-actress.’”

Pandora looked surprised and the Earl went on,

“She was in fact nothing of the sort. She had great musical ability, and because her parents were poverty-stricken she employed the only talent she had to make a living.”

He paused to continue angrily,

“She certainly appeared on the stage, and people paid to hear her, and that damned her completely in the eyes of the stuck-up aristocrats.”

The Earl walked a few paces across the room and back again, and as Pandora did not speak after a moment he went on,

“My father, shunned by his family, made friends where he could. They were not particularly desirable but at least they amused him while he had money, but he did not have much.”

The Earl’s voice was bitter and cynical as he continued,

“Then my mother died and he fell ill and nobody wanted him. Least of all the Earl of Chartwood, who, according to you, should have protected the weaker and poorer members of the family.”

“What – happened?” Pandora asked.

“My father died,” the Earl replied, “because I could not raise enough money for him to have an operation which was imperative if he were to live.”

“Did you ask Grandpapa to help you?”

“Of course I asked the Almighty Earl of Chartwood – the head of the family – the great father figure who, like God, was supposed to care for us all!” the Earl retorted violently. “But neither the Earl nor God cared a damn!”

Pandora made a little sound but did not speak.

“My father died in agony and unnecessarily,” the Earl went on. “He was still virtually a young man, and the operation was not a very difficult one, but it was absolutely essential if he were to stay alive.”

“Are you sure that Grandpapa refused to – help you?”

“He wrote me the most charming letter,” the Earl answered sarcastically. “He enclosed ten pounds –
ten pounds
– and told me I would get no more out of him in any circumstances.”

He flung himself down in a chair as if he was almost exhausted by the violence with which he had spoken.

“I – am sorry –” Pandora began to say, then she gave a little cry.

“When did your father die?”

“In 1815.”

“After Waterloo!”

“I believe that memorable event happened in the same year,” the Earl sneered.

“I remember – now I remember exactly what happened,” Pandora said, “but of course I had no idea that it was your father.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I came in from riding and Mama was talking to Papa. She seemed very upset. ‘What has happened, Mama?’ I asked.

“‘It does not concern you, darling,’ she replied, ‘but your grandfather was in one of his black moods today. He has been a different man since poor George was killed.’

“‘I know that,’ I answered.

“Mama looked at my father. ‘Charles,’ she said, ‘I have done a terrible thing.

“‘What have you done?’ he enquired.

“‘I have stolen five pounds,

“‘Stolen?’

“I could see that even Papa was surprised.

“‘Father has received a letter from one of the Chartwood cousins,’ Mama explained. ‘I do not think I have ever met him, but he wrote to say that his father was desperately ill and needed an operation.’

“She paused as if the memory of the letter upset her, and Papa said sympathetically: ‘Go on, darling. I wish you did not have to cope with all these things.’

“‘There is no-one else now,’ Mama said, and I knew that they were both thinking of Uncle George.

“‘I suggested to Father,’ she continued, ‘that he should send the cousin the money he needed, but Father would not listen.’

“‘Give him five pounds and tell him to go to the devil!’ he said.

“Mama gave a little cry. ‘He would never have said anything like that in the old days, but when I tried to argue with him he would not listen.’

“‘So where does your thieving come in?’ Papa asked.

“‘You will think it very reprehensible of me,’ Mama answered, ‘but I took it out of the housekeeping! Father gives me money with which to pay the servants and the bills without asking too many questions. I am sure he will never notice it’

“‘So you sent your cousin ten pounds?’

“‘Which will not be enough,’ Mama said with a sigh. ‘Oh, Charles, I wish we were rich. There are so many people I would like to help.’

“‘You do more than enough already,’ Papa answered, and kissed her.

“‘It worries me - it really worries me,’ she murmured.

“‘If it does that,’ Papa replied, ‘I will do something about it. Find out the address of your cousin and I will go and see him.

“‘Would you really, Charles? That would be so kind. I cannot bear to think of him suffering and none of us being able to help.

“‘Bring me his address,’ Papa answered.”

Pandora looked at the Earl and saw that he was listening intently.

“If Papa could have found you,” she said, “he would – I am sure he would – have found some way to help your father. But I heard Mama tell him the next day that Grandpapa in a temper had thrown the letter in the fire.”

She paused.

“I did not think of it until now, but of course he did that because Uncle George had been killed and your father was heir to the title.”

She looked at the Earl and went on,

“Mama was very upset because she could not remember your address. She had written a lot of letters that day, and although she tried and tried she could not recall it exactly.”

The Earl did not speak and Pandora continued,

“Even so, as she was sure it was somewhere in Islington, Papa spent a whole day in the neighbourhood, but no-one had heard of a householder by the name of Chart!”

“That was not surprising, as we were staying in a cheap boarding-house,” the Earl said bitterly.

He rose from his chair and walked across the room to stand at one of the windows looking out onto the garden.

“I have hated your grandfather so violently that it has poisoned my whole outlook on life,” he said, “but I did not realise until after my father was dead that he had been in fact the heir for three months.”

“Then you – knew it had – come to – you?”

“I borrowed money on the strength of it,” the Earl said with a defiant note in his voice, “not much, because money-lenders are not over generous to heir presumptives, but enough to give me a taste of the life that was to be mine once I became the fifth Earl and inherited not only a coronet but a fortune!”

Pandora did not speak.

She suddenly felt that her anger had gone from her and she felt instead deflated and at the same time a little weak.

“I am – sorry I was so – rude,” she said after a moment. “I lost my temper, and I know it was wrong of Grandpapa to behave as he did, but it was in fact very unlike him.”

“I suppose we can both understand that he hated me just as I hated him!” the Earl said.

“He adored his sons,” Pandora went on as if the Earl had not spoken. “I suppose every man wants a son to carry on his name. I know Papa, although he loved me, would have liked a boy, and he always hoped he would have a son. But the doctors said it would be a miracle if Mama ever had another child.”

She spoke a little sadly, then she said,

“But you must have lots of children. I used to think when I came here as a little girl what fun it would be if there were other children to slide down the Long Gallery and play hide-and-seek in the Orangery.”

“I have decided not to perpetuate the name of Chartwood,” the Earl answered abruptly.

“How can you be so ridiculous?” Pandora asked, the softness swept away from her voice. “As I said last night, you have been so lucky, but instead of being grateful you are letting what happened in the past destroy your judgement and ruin your own life.”

“Do you really think it is ruined?” the Earl asked.

“Well, you cannot go on forever being amused by...”

Pandora stopped because she thought she was being rude.

“Go on,” the Earl said. “Let me hear what you think of my friends – the only friends I have.”

“I just wonder how long they would stay your friends if you had no money,” Pandora snapped.

For a moment the Earl glared at her, then he laughed.

“You are certainly frank, my saintly little cousin. Leave me to my sins – I prefer it that way.”

“You can sin as much as you like,” Pandora said, and I would make no attempt to stop you, but you cannot force a young girl like Mary to be corrupted by that – horrible – beastly man who came to – my bed-room last – night!”

She gave a little shiver.

“I was thinking when he had gone how fortunate it was that you were there to save me – and how – kind you – were.”

She paused and her voice softened as she said,

“I went to sleep thinking you were not – as bad as you – pretend to be – but now I am not – sure.”

“That is deliberately inviting me to say that I will show you that I am not only as bad as you think I am, but very much worse!”

“And will that give you any great satisfaction?” Pandora asked. “When you have left everyone here weeping, miserable, and starving, what will you have proved? That you can be cruel, hard, and wicked? Well, I dare say the family has survived men like you before.”

She glared at him as she continued,

“There was one Chart who joined the Roundheads and treacherously denounced the hiding-place of his brother, who was a Royalist. There was another who shot himself after he had lost so much money at cards that he could not meet his debts, without selling the family treasures.”

She paused before she added,

“They mattered to him more than life, and I dare say if you go through the history-books you would find a dozen more, and I hope you enjoy their company!”

She turned as she spoke and walked towards the door.