Love, Lords, and Lady-Birds Read online

  "Who is she?"

  "Her name is Yvonne Vouvray. She is a singer at Vauxhall Gardens."

  "I should like to hear her," Petrina said.

  "I doubt if the Dowager Duchess will let you go to Vauxhall," Claire answered. "It is considered definitely 'out of bounds' for debutantes. But perhaps Rupert and I could smuggle you in one evening and no-one will know anything about it."

  "Please try!" Petrina begged.

  She was extremely curious to see what the Earl's mistress looked like, but she suspected, having seen Lady Isolda, that she would have dark hair.

  The fashion for fair hair and blue eyes, which had been exemplified by the Duchess of Devonshire, had rather petered out, and now brunettes were the rage, especially if they looked like Lady Isolda,

  Her jet-black hair, which reminded Petrina of the Earl's horses, her winged eye-brows, and her eyes, which had almost a purple tinge, were framed by the magnificent rubies, emeralds, or opals that she wore in the evening, and gowns which embraced the whole spectrum of the rainbow.

  "What are you thinking about?" Claire had asked Petrina yesterday when she had come for tea.

  They were alone because the Dowager Duchess, having spent many hours in the shops, had gone to her own room to rest, and the two girls were having tea in the Small Drawing-Room, which Petrina had decided was one of the loveliest rooms in the whole house.

  "I was thinking of Lady Isolda, as a matter of fact," she replied to her friend's question.

  "You met her last night."

  "How did you know?"

  "I saw you arrive at the Ball and she was in your party. Did you speak to her?"

  "She gave me two cold fingers and looked down her aristocratic nose at me," Petrina replied.

  "You only got that because you are staying at Staverton House," Claire said. "I have met her half a dozen times and she has never recognised me so far."

  Petrina laughed.

  "She is top-lofty like my Guardian. Perhaps that is why he likes her."

  Claire looked over her shoulder as if she was afraid someone might be listening, then in a low voice she said:

  "Rupert says she is known as a tigress in the Clubs!"

  "A tigress?'Why?"

  "Because she is so fierce and passionate."

  "She does not look like that to me."

  "That is what is so clever about her. She looks cold and disdainful, until she is alone with a man she likes."

  "As she likes . . . the Earl," Petrina murmured.

  "Rupert says the betting now is that he will marry her. Everybody is talking about their liaison and sooner or later he will be forced into it."

  "That seems to be rather a depressing way of getting married."

  Claire laughed.

  "I told you, if you want to get a man you have to hand-cuff and drag him with you up the aisle. They are all reluctant husbands."

  She saw the expression in Petrina's eyes and laughed.

  'You are different, as you well know. You are an heiress. Rupert says all the Beaux are talking about your attractions, which include your bank balance."

  "I rather guessed that," Petrina replied.

  * * *

  Petrina walked into Staverton House following the Dowager Duchess, who moved slowly owing to rheumatism in one of her legs.

  The Major Domo bowed to them in his usual obsequious way, and then, as the Dowager Duchess started to mount the stairs, he said to Petrina:

  "His Lordship would like a word with you in the Study, Miss."

  Petrina felt a sudden feeling of excitement. It was the first time in the two weeks she had been at Staverton House that the Earl had wanted to see her.

  She managed to walk demurely behind the Major Domo, although she was longing to run in front of him.

  He opened a gold and mahogany door and announced:

  "Miss Lyndon, M'Lord!"

  The Earl was seated writing at a desk in the centre of the room.

  He rose to his feet as Petrina came towards him and she thought that nobody could look more impressive or at the same time so exquisitely garbed.

  Other men seemed self-conscious about their clothes when they were as well-cut and elegant as those worn by the Earl, but his seemed to sit comfortably upon him with a casualness that was as obvious as the usual expression of boredom on his face.

  He did not appear particularly bored at the moment and she thought he looked at her sharply as if to find fault in her appearance.

  She was not in the least worried on that score, however, for she knew that her gown of pale daffodil echoed the lights in her hair and the small necklace of topazes round her neck which came from the Staverton collection was in perfect good taste.

  She curtseyed and the Earl gave her a perfunctory bow before he said:

  "Sit down, Petrina, I want to talk to you."

  "What have I done now?"

  "I have a feeling that what you really mean is, what have you done that I have found out about," the Earl replied.

  "You are making me feel exactly as if I had been sent for by the Headmistress," Petrina complained. "I may inform you, if you do not know it already, that I have been a model of discretion and decorum. Your grandmother is very pleased with me and so should you be."

  "Then why are you on the defensive?" the Earl asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

  "What do you do every day?" Petrina asked impulsively. "I know you go riding in the morning and sometimes we see you at the Balls in the evening, but you seem to have a lot to occupy you."

  "As I told you before you came here, I have an extremely well-organised life," the Earl replied, "and I have no wish to change the tenor of my ways."

  "I was just curious," Petrina said, "but of course your lady-loves take up a lot of your time."

  "I have told you not to speak of such women," the Earl said harshly.

  "I was not meaning anything improper," Petrina replied, wide-eyed. "I was in fact speaking of Lady Isolda. Are you going to marry her?"

  The Earl brought his clenched fist down on his desk with considerable force.

  "I have not brought you here to discuss my private life," he said angrily. "Will you learn, once and for all, Petrina, that is not the way a Ward should speak to her Guardian nor a debutante to anyone."

  Petrina gave a rather dramatic sigh.

  "You are behaving just as you did when we first met," she said. "I hoped you would be pleased at the exemplary manner in which I have carried out your instructions, but I thought at least where you were concerned I could be myself. However, I see now I was mistaken."

  She spoke with affronted dignity and the Earl's lips twisted in a half- smile as he replied:

  "I would wish you always to be honest and truthful with me, Petrina, but you know as well as I do that curiosity on a certain subject is barred even when you are talking to me."

  "I cannot think why," Petrina replied. "After all, everybody in London is asking if you are going to marry Lady Isolda, and I would feel very foolish if I were to wake up one morning and find it announced in the Gazette."

  "May I assure you that you have no need to worry on that score," he said. "I have no intention of marrying Lady Isolda, or anyone else for that matter."

  He saw a light of triumph in Petrina's eyes and said somewhat ruefully:

  "I suppose now you think you have extracted a piece of valuable information from me."

  “Well, you must be aware that people are curious about you," Petrina said, "and you are far more interesting to talk about than that red-faced, disgusting, fat, old Regent."

  "That is not the way you should refer to your future Monarch," the Earl said reprovingly.

  Petrina laughed.

  "Now you are being the Headmaster again. 'Yes, Sir, no, Sir, I will be good, Sir!' Why did you send for me?"

  The Earl obviously bit back some remark he was going to make about the frivolous manner in which she was speaking to him, and after a moment's pause said:

  "I
have to inform you that Lord Rowlock has approached me to ask for your hand in marriage. I have informed him that not only would I not give my consent to such an alliance, but he is not to communicate with you in any way in the future, nor, if he does so, are you to speak to him."

  "Lord Rowlock? But I find him rather amusing," Petrina replied.

  "He is a fortune-hunter of the worst sort," the Earl said. "He has tried for years to marry every young woman who is known to have money. It shows that he needs to have his head examined to have approached me with such a proposition."

  "I certainly have no wish to marry him," Petrina said. "But he is more amusing than those beardless boys I am introduced to by every scheming Mama."

  'You have my instructions, Petrina," the Earl said. "If Rowlock speaks to you, ignore him; and if he continues to bother you, I will deal with him."

  'What will you do?" she asked interestedly.

  'There is no need for us to go into details," the Earl replied coldly, "but I can assure you that whatever method I use to get rid of Rowlock will be very effective."

  'Would you fight a duel with him?" Petrina enquired. "That would be really exciting! I would love to see you fight someone over me."

  "Duelling is forbidden and is out-of-date," the Earl said firmly.

  "That is not true," Petrina replied. 'Two of Rupert's friends fought a duel only last week in Green Park. He was a Second."

  "I am not concerned with the behaviour of young men of Coombe's age who know no better,"

  the Earl said in a lofty tone. "What I am telling you, Petrina, is that you no longer number Lord Rowlock amongst your acquaintances."

  "I will consider it," she said provocatively.

  "You will do as I tell you or I will send you to Harrogate."

  "If you do I will scream all the way from London to that abominable Spa and I will pay a cartoonist to lampoon you for being so cruel to your poor, defenceless little Ward!"

  "You are neither poor nor defenceless," the Earl said, "and as long as you are a guest in my house, Petrina, you will do as I tell you."

  "Perhaps I should set up my own establishment," she said in a sweet tone.

  He glared at her, then with an effort at self-control he exclaimed:

  'You are only trying to provoke me. God, that I should be inflicted with such an abominable brat! Will you behave yourself? If not, I promise you I will make you sorry you were ever born."

  Petrina laughed.

  "Now you are behaving like a big bad wolf. Your grandmother is doubtless right when she says you have been spoilt ever since you were a child, and I suspect your lady-loves have merely carried on where your Nannies and Governesses left off."

  She rose as she spoke and walked towards the door.

  As she reached it the Earl stormed at her from his desk:

  "You will do as I say, Petrina, or I warn you the consequences will be most unpleasant."

  "Woof—woof," replied Petrina, her eyes sparkling. "I adore you when you are fierce and masterful! No wonder you have broken hearts lying round your feet like confetti!"

  She left the room, shutting the door behind her before the Earl could speak again, and for a moment he merely glared at the door. Then suddenly, in spite of himself, he began to laugh.

  He was well aware that Petrina had been an overnight success, and, although he thought cynically that it was mostly due to the often-exaggerated stories of her fortune, she was nevertheless original and, dressed by his grandmother, undeniably attractive.

  There was something lovely as well as mischievous about her face, but he found her extremely exasperating, especially when she defied him. However, he was perceptive enough to realise that most of it was an act put on for his benefit.

  "God knows she needs a husband," he told himself, and wondered what sort of man would ever be able to cope with her.

  At the same time, he was well aware that his grandmother was delighted with Petrina.

  She was not only respectful, considerate, and exceedingly grateful to the older woman, but she was intelligent enough, the Earl found, to have confided in her what the Beaux said to her at the Balls they attended and even to have shown her their love-letters.

  Nothing could have amused or interested the Dowager Duchess more.

  She loved to be "in the know" about everything and everybody, and it was a long time since she had had such an insight into the behaviour and manners of the younger generation.

  "Petrina tells me you have told her to have nothing more to do with Lord Rowlock," she said to the Earl when he went to her Sitting-Room early in the evening.

  "He has had the audacity to ask me if he could pay his addresses to Petrina," the Earl said angrily.

  "He is certainly a fortune-hunter," the Dowager Duchess remarked. "At the same time, it was unwise of you to forbid Petrina to see him. You know as well as I do that forbidden fruits are always the sweetest."

  "Do you mean to say she will defy me?" the Earl asked.

  "I would not be surprised," his grandmother replied. "After all, Durwin, you must realise that Petrina is no ordinary, half-witted girl. She has an intelligent and inquisitive mind, which I find exceptionally attractive."

  "She is also extremely obstinate," the Earl said harshly.

  "Only if you tackle her in the wrong way," the Dowager Duchess replied. "You should have left it to me to tell her to be wary of Lord Rowlock."

  "It is not merely a question of being wary," the Earl said angrily. "The damned fellow is a menace! If he cannot get an heiress one way, he will get her another. I am quite convinced he thought Petrina was so young and green that she would not realise what he is like beneath that polished veneer."

  "He has wit and is exceptionally good-looking," the Dowager Duchess said. "Both are things which appeal to the very young. Be careful, Durwin, you may drive her into his arms."

  "I will see him dead before he marries Petrina!" the Earl retorted.

  Because he was so annoyed, he left the room without saying any more.

  For a moment there was an expression of surprise in the Dowager Duchess's eyes, then it was replaced by a more speculative look, and there was a faint smile on her thin lips.

  * * *

  The following morning Petrina called on Claire at her father's house in Hanover Square.

  The Marquess of Morecombe was not a rich man although he owned a large estate in Buckinghamshire.

  After the splendour of the Earl's residence, Morecombe House seemed shabby, but Petrina, concerned only with Claire, was looking in consternation at her friend's face.

  It was obvious that Claire had been crying.

  She was pretty in a somewhat insignificant way, with very fair hair and pale blue eyes.

  When she was happy she seemed to light up in a manner which quite a number of young men found attractive, but at the moment, with red eyes, she looked, Petrina thought, rather like a flower that had been drenched in a rainstorm.

  "What is the matter, dearest?" she asked.

  "Oh, Petrina, I am so glad you have come! You must help me . . . you must! I do not know what to . . . do."

  "What has happened?"

  "I hardly know how to . . . tell you."

  "Do not be silly. You know I will help you."

  Claire gave a little sob.

  "I expected to be able to tell you either today or tomorrow that I was . . . engaged."

  "To Frederick Broddington?"

  'You guessed?" Claire asked.

  "As you have talked of no-one else since I came to London, of course I guessed, and I like him very much! You will be very happy, I am sure of it!"

  "I would have been . . . blissfully happy," Claire said, "but now . . . now I cannot marry him . .

  . and, oh, I wish I were dead!"

  She burst into a flood of tears which made her last words almost incoherent and yet Petrina heard them.

  She moved quickly to Claire's side and kneeling down beside her chair put her arms round her friend.


  "It is all right," she said. "I know it will be all right. Tell me what has happened and why you cannot marry Frederick. He is deeply in love with you, he told me so."

  "That is what he told me . . . and he saw Papa yesterday . . . who of course gave his . . .

  consent."

  It was unlikely that the Marquess would have done anything else, considering that the Honourable Frederick Broddington was the only son of one of the richest men in England.

  Lord Broddington was the owner not only of large parts of London but of valuable building land in Birmingham and Manchester.

  He was, moreover, of noble birth, and the basis of his fortune had been founded by his great-grandfather, who had had the vision to buy land on the outskirts of developing towns.

  Apart from his wealth, Frederick was just the sort of husband Petrina had thought Claire should have. He was kind and considerate. At the same time, he was intelligent and had decided opinions of his own.

  She had liked him and enjoyed talking to him, and she was certain that because he really loved Claire he would make her exceedingly happy in the future.

  "What has happened?" Petrina asked now. "Have you quarrelled with Frederick, and if so, why?"

  "Of course I have not quarrelled with Frederick," Claire answered through her tears. "It is Sir Mortimer Sneldon who has upset everything . . . Oh, Petrina, why did I ever meet him . . . and why was I such a . . . f-fool?"

  "Sir Mortimer Sneldon?" Petrina repeated.

  She tried to remember him, then recalled that he was a good-looking, rather dandified Beau whom she had seen at every Ball she had attended, but she had not actually met him.

  "Yes . . . Mortimer Sneldon," Claire said. "He asked to be introduced to you, but I refused ... I was afraid he might . . . hurt you as he has . . . hurt me."

  "What has he done?" Petrina asked.

  Claire wiped her eyes fiercely with a small, damp handkerchief.

  "He is . . . blackmailing . . . me!"

  "Blackmailing you? How can he possibly do that?"

  The mere word had brought on Claire's tears again and it was a few seconds before she controlled herself to answer:

  "When I . . . first came to London he . . . flattered me . . . and because he was older and very handsome I thought myself ... in love with him."