Love, Lords, and Lady-Birds Read online

  So she did not ask for the more scurrilous papers and magazines to which he subscribed, but found that she could obtain them quite easily the day after they were issued.

  Then they were taken from the Library and stacked outside his Secretary's office for a week in case they should be required.

  It was quite easy for Petrina to make an excuse to visit Mr. Richardson, who kept a safe containing the Staverton jewels in his office and also provided her and the Dowager Duchess with any petty-cash they should require.

  After she had left his office she would purloin what newspapers she required from the pile in the passage.

  The Political Register, which was edited by William Cobbett, was selling fifty thousand copies a week and denounced in no uncertain terms the Government of the day and the lack of interest in the sufferings of the poor, felt by the aristocrats headed by the Prince Regent

  It was the Political Register which told Petrina that the Police were ineffective and largely corrupt, and nothing was being done about the Flash Houses where boys were trained as delinquents in their early teens and sent out thieving, picking pockets, and pilfering.

  She learnt that when any of these boys was arrested for some minor pilfering, he was sent to prison, flogged, then turned out without a penny in his pocket.

  This meant that, unless he was prepared to sleep in sheds and live on garbage, he had to go back to the Flash House where he would find food and warmth if he agreed to return to his criminal activities.

  In the Political Register there were also reports on the hell endured by the "Climbing Boys"

  who were sent up chimneys to clean them.

  There was an official minimum age of eight, but children of four to six were often used. They were badly fed, had to sleep on a floor, and might go for months covered with soot without being washed.

  There were not only the newspapers to teach Petrina about what was happening in the world outside Staverton House.

  There were cartoons which everybody bought as a matter of course and discussed with laughter and sometimes a good deal of spite at the parties she attended.

  The Prince Regent, depicted as enormously fat, with Lady Hertford, covered with the Royal jewels, sitting on his knee or riding him as if he were a bicycle, would make everybody laugh.

  But Petrina felt as if some of the gilt was being rubbed away from the gingerbread of the Social Scene that had at first appeared so attractive.

  She wondered why the Earl had been so strait-laced where she was concerned, when it was obvious that all the people he knew from the Prince Regent downwards were behaving in what seemed to her a very reprehensible manner.

  At the same time, the great majority of the populace were, if the newspapers were to be believed, suffering from poverty and intolerable conditions in work and housing.

  "I do not understand it all," Petrina said to herself.

  But she went on reading everything she could and was often tempted to ask the Earl about the things which puzzled her.

  Then she told herself he would merely think that she was being tiresomely curious and that it was not her concern.

  'But it should concern everybody!' she had thought as she and the Dowager Duchess drove along Piccadilly.

  She could see the poverty of the Crossing-Sweepers and the children in rags huddled in doorways, waiting to steal from the more affluent passers- by or hoping someone would take pity on them and toss them a coin.

  So much wealth, so much abject misery, and no-one seemed to care. It was all very puzzling!

  And Petrina told herself she must do something to help.

  'I suppose I have now promised the Earl I will not do anything without telling him first,' she thought now as she lay in the darkness.

  He was at this moment sorting out the letters that she had stolen from Sir Mortimer.

  By doing that she had at least righted one wrong. At the same time, there were so many more injustices and she felt appalled at the difficulties of entering the fray against them.

  She gave a little sigh and realised there was nothing she could do except try to work out the solution alone.

  The Earl would not understand. He merely thought her a tiresome brat, a child who was playing with fire.

  She felt for a moment undeniably childish in wanting his help, in feeling that he was so strong and so all-powerful that he could achieve more than she could ever hope to do.

  Then she told herself he was not interested in her problems, but in Lady Isolda Herbert.

  She was beautiful, very beautiful, there was no doubt about that!

  With a little sinking of her heart which she could not understand, Petrina realised that in comparison with Lady Isolda she must indeed seem a child and very insignificant.

  "If he does marry her, as everyone expects," Petrina asked herself, "what will become of me?"

  It was a question which made her feel suddenly afraid of the future.

  She had thought she would hate living at Staverton House, and yet now she loved it.

  It was not only the house, which was so beautiful and its surroundings a joy. It was also exciting, in some way that she could not explain, that the Earl was there.

  She might not see him often, but even when he was absent she was vividly conscious of him.

  When he came into the Salon before dinner or on rare occasions joined her and his grandmother when they were alone, the tempo seemed to quicken and she felt a strange sensation of excitement creep over her that had not been there before.

  Yet she wanted to defy him, to challenge him, to tease him. It was something she never felt with other men, and yet with the Earl the feeling was inescapable, although she could not explain it.

  "Please, God, do not let him get married ... too quickly," she found herself praying.

  It was the most selfish prayer she had ever made.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE EARL looked up from the newspaper which he was reading to see his Secretary standing just inside the door of the Library.

  "What is it, Richardson?" he asked.

  "Could I speak to you a moment, My Lord?"

  "Of course," the Earl replied, setting down his newspaper. He noted that Mr. Richardson looked worried as he moved across the room towards him.

  A middle-aged man, he had been with the Earl's father before him and knew more about the Staverton houses and estates than either of their owners did.

  He was tactful with the servants and the other employees and at the same time kept a firm hand on every detail, so that the Earl knew that, unlike what happened in so many aristocratic houses, food was not being sold by his Chefs and his Butlers were not stealing the wine.

  "What is worrying you, Richardson?" he asked in a pleasant tone.

  There was a moment's pause before Mr. Richardson replied:

  "I thought Your Lordship ought to know that Miss Lyndon is drawing very large sums of money from her account."

  "I suppose that is to pay for the gowns and furbelows that are considered necessary for a debutante's Season in London," the Earl remarked.

  "No, My Lord, I pay the dressmakers' and milliners' bills and they are not abnormally large."

  The Earl's expression changed.

  "Are you telling me that Miss Lyndon draws the sums you mention in cash?"

  "Yes, My Lord. She tells me what she requires, signs the cheques, and I have the money ready for her the following day."

  He thought the Earl looked incredulous as he handed him a piece of paper.

  "This is what Miss Lyndon has asked for this last week, My Lord."

  The Earl took the paper from him, glanced at it, then said in an ominous tone:

  "Is Miss Lyndon in the house?"

  "I think, My Lord, she has just returned from riding."

  'Then send a footman to say I wish to speak to her immediately."

  "Very good, My Lord."

  Again there was a pause before Mr. Richardson said:

  "I hope I have done right
in telling Your Lordship what was occurring. I feel, however wealthy Miss Lyndon may be, this might, if it continues, constitute a considerable drain on her fortune."

  He was obviously embarrassed at what he had to say, and the Earl answered reassuringly:

  "You have done entirely right, Richardson. I am, as you know, Miss Lyndon's Guardian, and it is I who must make an accounting of her money when it finally passes into her hands."

  "Thank you, My Lord."

  Mr. Richardson bowed and went from the room, but the Earl, with a frown between his eyes, rose to walk to the window.

  "What the devil is Petrina up to now?" he asked himself.

  He looked down at the sums of money that Mr. Richardson had inscribed on the piece of paper which he now held in his hand, and his lips tightened.

  He had felt certain, after she had given him her promise that night he had caught her robbing Sir Mortimer Sneldon, that she would behave better in the future.

  He thought he had obtained not only her promise but also her trust. But now he told himself angrily it was foolish to think that any woman was straight and honest. They all cheated when they got the chance.

  On the desk behind him there were two letters from Lady Isolda which he had not yet opened.

  Because he had not been to see her for several days she had bombarded him with messages and notes, and he knew that sooner or later he would have to make her face the fact that their liaison was over.

  As was inevitable where he was concerned, it was only a question of time before he became bored with any woman, however beautiful she might be, however attractive.

  The Earl knew that once something became commonplace it also became banal.

  He found that Isolda's conversation bored him and her persistent complaint that he would not marry her made him yawn.

  She was not in the least the type of woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

  He was not quite certain in his own mind what the woman would be like whom he would wish to bear his name and his children.

  But he did know for sure that she did not look or behave like Isolda.

  He had been involved in too many affaires de coeur not to know that when inevitably he tired first, it usually resulted in an extremely unpleasant scene, which, where Isolda was concerned, if he was not careful, would reverberate throughout the whole of the Social World.

  "Dammit! Why did I have to get involved with her?" he asked.

  He knew the answer was that she had deliberately sought him out and attempted, as so many other women had done, to capture him.

  He was, however, concerned at the moment not with Isolda and the problem she presented, but with Petrina.

  When a few moments later she came rushing into the room with her usual impetuosity, he turned to look at her and the darkness in his eyes deepened.

  "Forgive me for being so long, Guardie," she said, her eyes sparkling, "but I got your message when I was in my bath, and I thought you would wish me to wear something more respectable than a towel before I obeyed your imperial summons."

  She moved confidendy towards him, looking extremely attractive in a morning-gown of pale blue muslin trimmed with tiny frills round the skirt and narrow velvet ribbons of the same colour.

  As the Earl had his back to the light, Petrina had reached his side before she saw the expression on his face.

  She looked up at him and for a moment she was still.

  "What has happened?"

  "I thought I could trust you to keep your word," the Earl said, and his voice was like a whip,

  "but I see I was mistaken."

  "Keep my word?" Petrina questioned. "If you mean my promise to you ... I have kept it. I have done nothing reprehensible, I assure you."

  "You lie!" the Earl said savagely. "And let me tell you, Petrina, if there is one thing I really dislike and abominate, it is being lied to."

  "But ... I am not lying."

  "You are!" he said harshly.

  "What have I done?" Petrina asked. "I swear I have no idea of anything I have done wrong."

  "You are being blackmailed!"

  He saw the astonishment in her face as her eyes widened and she said:

  "I swear to you on everything I hold sacred ... I am not being blackmailed. And in any case, there is nothing for me to be blackmailed about."

  "Then perhaps you will explain this," the Earl said ominously.

  He showed her the piece of paper he held in his hand and Petrina looked at it.

  She stared down at the sums of money and the colour rose in her cheeks.

  The Earl made an exclamation of fury and walked towards the mantelpiece to stand with his back to the empty fireplace.

  "Now," he said, "perhaps I may hear the truth."

  Petrina gave a little sigh.

  "I did think of telling you, but I thought you would not . . . understand."

  'Who is the man, and what hold has he over you?"

  "There is no man."

  "Do you expect me to believe that?"

  "It is true!"

  "Then to whom have you given these vast sums of money?"

  There was a pause, then Petrina said:

  "It is . . . my money."

  "For which I am responsible until you are twenty-one."

  "Perhaps I should have . . . asked you, but I felt you would . . . prevent me from doing what I

  . . . wanted to do."

  "You may be quite sure of that"

  "Now you understand why I could not tell you."

  "You will tell me now!" the Earl commanded.

  Again Petrina hesitated, before she said in a low voice:

  "I was going to ask you how I could help these wretched girls, but I felt you would . . .

  disapprove and . . . stop me. So I thought I could give them money without you . . . knowing about it."

  "What girls?" the Earl asked.

  "The women ... in the streets."

  The Earl stared at her in astonishment, then he said in a more gentle tone:

  "Suppose you start at the beginning? I find it hard to understand what you are trying to tell me."

  He sat down as he spoke in one of the arm-chairs by the fireplace and made a gesture with his hand to invite Petrina to occupy the other.

  She sat down on the very edge of the chair and her eyes, dark and worried, looked at him apprehensively as if she was sure that he was going to be extremely incensed with her.

  "It all started," she said, "one morning when your grandmother was not feeling well, so I went to the shops with Hannah, my lady's-maid.

  "When we came out there was a girl with a very young baby in her arms. It was very small and sick-looking. She asked me to help her. I gave her a little money, and as she was so young, I asked if the baby belonged to her."

  Petrina gave a quick glance at the Earl as if in embarrassment, then looked away.

  "She told me," she went on in a low voice, "that she had only been fourteen when she came to London from the country to get a job. Somehow, I am not certain how it happened, she was picked up at the Coach- Station by a man who said he would . . . help her."

  Petrina's voice was even lower as she went on:

  "He gave her a lot of gin to drink. She was not . . . certain what . . . happened afterwards, but she never . . . saw him again."

  'This sort of thing does occur when girls come to London alone," the Earl said dryly.

  "Ethel . . . that was her name . . . managed to get some work, but when she found she was having a baby they dismissed her."

  Petrina's voice faltered as she said:

  "She said the only thing . . . she could ... do was to . . . become a . . . prostitute."

  There was an uncomfortable silence and as the Earl did not speak she went on:

  "Then after she had the baby she had to beg to keep them both alive."

  "She told you this story while you stood talking to her in the street?" the Earl questioned.

  'We were not in Bond Street
, but in Maddox Street where it is not so crowded," Petrina explained, "and I was so sorry for her. 1 gave her all the money I had with me and went back the next day to give her more, but I could not find her."

  The Earl made a restless sound and Petrina continued quickly:

  "I could not sleep that night thinking how thin and ill she looked and how small and sick the baby was."

  'That accounts for some of the money you have spent," the Earl remarked, "but what about the rest?"

  "When I drove about London with your grandmother," Petrina answered, "I could see the children in rags and the girls with painted faces and gaudy clothing waiting to . . . speak to . . .

  gentlemen passing by."

  "You should not notice such things," the Earl said sharply.

  "How could I help it, unless I were blind?" Petrina replied.

  Her retort held a touch of the old spirit in her voice. Then as if she was afraid to anger him more, she went on in a quieter tone:

  "I have read about the conditions of women and young girls in London, of the . . .

  prostitution in the streets and the way they are . . . exploited by people who keep them in a state of slavery."

  "That is not suitable reading for you," the Earl remarked. "Where can you have obtained such literature?"

  Petrina did not answer and he said insistently:

  "I asked you a question. Where have you read of such things?"

  "In the newspapers and magazines you have here."

  "They were not intended for your eyes."

  "I think it is right that I should know the state of London at this moment," Petrina said, "and it is not only the Political Register which writes about such things, there have also been speeches in the House of Commons on the subject."

  The Earl was aware of this, knowing that there had been a large number of debates on the findings of a Select Committee set up the previous year to investigate these actual conditions.

  Members of the Police Force who were not dishonest had given evidence, and the Members of Parliament had been astounded and shocked by what they learnt.

  But while the Earl and a great many other men had discussed and debated the findings, there was not one lady of his acquaintance who had been the slightest bit interested.