Love, Lords, and Lady-Birds Read online

  It was then that, from the other side of the partition which divided them from the alcove next door, she heard a voice she recognised say:

  "She not only sings divinely but is exceptionally seductive, as the noble Earl certainly appreciates."

  "I curse him every day for having beaten me to the post!" a man's voice replied.

  "You are boasting, Ranelagh," the first man said with a laugh, and Petrina knew that the voice belonged to Lord Rowlock.

  She was aware now to whom he was speaking, for she had met the Duke of Ranelagh at one of the Balls she had attended and had danced with him.

  She had thought him a boastful, conceited young man and he had made it obvious that he was not particularly interested in her.

  "I hear that Staverton has bought Yvonne a house in Paradise Row in Chelsea, and set her up with a carriage which knocks spots off all the horses of the Ton," Lord Rowlock continued.

  "I have not only heard about the house, I have been there!" the Duke replied.

  "Good heavens!" Lord Rowlock exclaimed. "Did you crawl through the key-hole? I cannot believe the Earl took you on a tour of inspection."

  "I am not without my resources," the Duke said boastfully, "and to tell the truth, Rowlock, our French charmer has made no bones about the fact that she fancies me."

  Lord Rowlock did not reply and the Duke went on:

  "But I was frank. I told her I was not deep in the pocket like Staverton and we have come to a very amicable arrangement."

  "What sort of arrangement?" Lord Rowlock asked.

  Petrina could not see the Duke, but she had the feeling that he was looking smug and pleased with himself, and she was sure that he winked at his friend.

  "When the cat's away, the mice will play," he said evasively.

  "What do you mean by that?" Lord Rowlock enquired.

  "You can guess," the Duke answered. "Staverton is not always in London, nor, when he is with the demanding Lady Isolda, is he in Chelsea."

  "Do you mean . . . ?" Lord Rowlock ejaculated.

  "I mean I am very much persona grata with our little French Love- Bird," the Duke replied.

  Lord Rowlock gave an exclamation.

  "For God's sake, man, be careful what you do where Staverton is concerned. He is a dead shot and I am quite certain would allow nobody, least of all you, to poach on his preserves."

  "I am discretion itself, my dear fellow." the Duke said airily, "and I can assure you, having seen the diamonds Yvonne has extracted from her protector, she has no intention of losing him."

  "Well, you are a braver man than I am," Lord Rowlock remarked.

  "What you need is more push and determination to get what you want in this world," the Duke said.

  "You really believe that?" Lord Rowlock enquired in a different tone of voice.

  "I have always got exactly what I wanted out of life," the Duke replied. "I have not only been determined, but have taken certain risks in attaining it."

  He laughed.

  "When I make love to Staverton's mistress in Staverton's bed, having drunk Staverton's excellent champagne, I congratulate myself on being extremely clever."

  "I drink to that," Lord Rowlock said. "And I drink to you, Ranelagh. You have given me an idea, and if it comes off I shall thank you in all sincerity."

  "I am delighted to be of assistance," the Duke replied.

  Petrina heard their glasses clink as they must have touched across the supper-table.

  She had eavesdropped because she could not help it, but now she felt angry that the Duke of Ranelagh and Lord Rowlock, whom she had been told to eliminate from her list of acquaintances, should be laughing at the Earl and thinking that they had scored off him.

  She had however little time to consider what she had learnt, for the Viscount reappeared to tell them that Yvonne Vouvray would be singing at any moment He had hardly sat down in the alcove before a Master of Ceremonies, following a roll of drums, announced the Prima Donna from the balcony of the Rotunda.

  "My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen! Tonight we have the great honour and privilege to hear one of the most famous Prima Donnas in all Europe. A citizen of France, she has sung at the famous Opera House in Paris and at La Scala in Milan, and she is known as 'the Nightingale.'

  "My Lords, Ladies and Gendemen! I have the supreme pleasure to present for your delectation and delight Mademoiselle Yvonne Vouvray!"

  There was a great burst of applause and the Master of Ceremonies drew to the front of the balcony the famous soprano.

  Even at a distance from where she was sitting Petrina could see how attractive the Frenchwoman was.

  She had dark hair, even darker than Lady Isolda's, and it seemed to glow with blue lights.

  Her eyes were enormous, fringed with long eyelashes, and her lips were crimson. She was exquisitely dressed in a gown which shimmered with diamante, which reflected the oil-lights so that she glittered as if she were clothed in moon-beams.

  She began to sing and there was no doubt that she deserved all the praise that had been lavished upon her by the critics.

  It was a compliment which all performers appreciate that everyone listening was still and completely silent.

  Her voice had the rare, exquisitely clear quality of a young boy's and yet as she sang she looked very feminine and extremely seductive.

  Her figure was slightly voluptuous, but her long neck and rounded arms were those of a young goddess.

  As she listened, Petrina knew her voice had an allure that was irresistible, and looking at her she felt suddenly a sharp pain within herself that was so intense that it was physical as well as mental.

  "She is lovely, attractive, no wonder he . . ."

  She stopped because it was so painful to think that this exquisite creature, this woman with the voice that justified her being called "the Nightingale," should belong to the Earl.

  For a moment she could not understand why the knowledge of it hurt her and why the pain in her heart seemed to intensify with every note that Yvonne Vouvray sang.

  Then Petrina suddenly knew the truth, and the horror of it made her want to cry out a denial.

  Yet it was impossible not to realise that she was jealous, jealous of the Earl's mistress, jealous with a pain and an agony that was like a sword thrusting into her flesh.

  Jealous because she loved him!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "I HAVE MADE arrangements for us to dine at Devonshire House this evening," the Dowager Duchess said. "We are not wanted here, as my grandson is giving a dinner-party."

  "A dinner-party?" Petrina asked, supposing it was to be for men only.

  The Dowager Duchess smiled.

  "The Prince Regent has invited himself," she said, "and although there will be a number of beautiful women present, the main topic of conversation will centre round another female."

  Petrina looked at her questioningly and the Dowager Duchess went on:

  "Durwin is determined to win the Gold Cup at Ascot with his horse Bella, while the Prince is quite certain that his entry will be the victor."

  Petrina could understand that the conversation would be a very spirited one between the rival owners, and she was certain that other distinguished members of the Jockey Club would also be there. But she felt a trifle piqued that she was not to be present.

  As if she knew what Petrina was thinking, the Dowager Duchess said:

  "The Prince Regent likes older and more sophisticated women. He will of course be bringing Lady Hertford with him, and I am quite certain that Lady Isolda has managed to get herself included one way or another."

  There was a cold note in the Dowager Duchess's voice because, as Petrina knew, she disliked Lady Isolda, but no more than Petrina herself did.

  Ever since she had admitted to herself that she was in love with the Earl and was jealous of the ladies on whom he bestowed his favours, she had felt every day was more agonising than the last.

  She was not only continually tortured by the attractions of Yvon
ne Vouvray but by the beauty of Lady Isolda Herbert

  She had no idea, of course, that the Earl was finding Lady Isolda's persistent demands on him more and more irritating, or that there was an increasing number of scented effusions written in her flowing hand lying unopened in a drawer of his desk.

  All that Petrina knew was that at every Ball, Reception, or Assembly they attended Lady Isolda gravitated to the Earl's side as if he were a magnet, and that day after day she saw grooms wearing the Herbert livery delivering notes at the front door.

  'I am glad I am not going to be present at the dinner-party this evening,' she thought.

  She knew it would be difficult to attend to the gentlemen seated on either side of her when she would be watching the Earl, knowing that Lady Isolda, doubtless beside him, would be holding his attention.

  It was impossible to suppose that he was not infatuated by her outstanding beauty, and Petrina felt despairingly that it was only a question of time, perhaps only of days, before their engagement was announced.

  "I love him!" she admitted to herself in the darkness of the night, and all through the day she found herself waiting and looking for his broad shoulders, his dark head, and his handsome, rather cynical face.

  He had been exceedingly kind in taking her, as he had promised, to meet the Vicar of St.

  James's in Piccadilly.

  There Petrina had listened to what the Clergy were trying to do for the unwanted children in their Parishes, who were abandoned sometimes inside the Church itself.

  They were handicapped, as the Earl had said, by lack of funds, though at least they were making a small step in the right direction.

  But Petrina felt that they were not trying hard enough to prevent the young girls who came from the country from being seduced into a life of sin before they realised what was happening to them.

  "Would it not be possible," she asked, "to have someone like yourself, Vicar, or perhaps even a woman, on duty at the Inns where the stagecoaches disembark their passengers, so that if a

  young girl arrives looking helpless and bewildered, she could be taken to a place of safety or escorted to the house where she has been engaged as a servant?"

  "It is certainly an idea, Miss Lyndon," the Vicar answered, "but quite frankly, I have not enough helpers to call upon and I doubt if the majority of young girls who come to London would listen to anyone speaking to them for their own good."

  This, Petrina felt, was a defeatist attitude, and when she had left the Vicarage and was alone with the Earl she persisted in her idea, saying she was sure it was something that could be done.

  "I will discuss it with the Police," the Earl said.

  "A country girl might be frightened of a Policeman speaking to her," Petrina said. "What we want is an elderly woman, kind and maternal, who would gain their confidence and make them understand how careful they must be."

  The Earl did not reply, but he knew there were quite a number of women such as Petrina had described waiting for girls who came off the stage-coaches.

  They were procuresses, who with promises of good employment and high wages lured their victims away to houses of disrepute from which later there was no escape.

  "I promise you I will go into the whole problem," the Earl said, "and I have already discussed the matter with Lord Ashley, who is one of our foremost Reformers. But you must not be impatient if we do not get results very quickly."

  "I am impatient!" Petrina answered. "Every day, every hour that we are wasting time, more young girls are ruined, and more miserable, unwanted little babies are born into the world."

  There was a passion in her voice which the Earl found very moving.

  In all his acquaintance with the female sex he had never met anyone who had cared so deeply for what happened to less fortunate women than themselves.

  He found himself looking with different eyes at the prostitutes he saw as he drove through the streets, and reading the newspaper reports on crime with more attention than he had done in the past.

  A number of his friends were extremely surprised when he spoke seriously to them on the subject, quoting passages from the reports of the Select Committee.

  "I should have thought, Staverton, you had enough women to worry about without including the poor Droxies," one Member of Parliament joked.

  But the others paid attention to what he said, knowing that he had a powerful position in the House of Lords.

  He had certainly been kind, Petrina thought, but that was not to say he was interested in her personally; and after all, why should he be when he already had two such seductive and alluring women of his own?

  Because she was in love and because she could think of nothing but the Earl, she slept badly, and the Dowager Duchess noticed that she was thinner.

  "I think it is a good thing that the Season will soon be at an end," she said. "These late nights with so much dancing will be taking their toll of your looks if we are not careful."

  "The Season will be at an end!" Petrina repeated almost beneath her breath.

  She wondered what she would do then and if the Earl had any plans for her. Because she could not bear to think he might send her away to the country, or even to Harrogate, she dared not ask questions.

  But she had learnt that when Ascot was over the Prince Regent would go to Brighton. Then gradually all the great houses would be shut up and their owners would either follow His Royal Highness or retire to their country estates until the autumn.

  Petrina asked Mr. Richardson who was dining at Staverton House that evening, and he showed her a list of the guests.

  There were only twenty of them, headed of course by the Prince Regent and Lady Hertford, and Lady Isolda's name seemed to jump out of the paper and flash itself in front of Petrina's eyes.

  She went out to dinner with the Dowager Duchess, feeling like Cinderella, who had not been invited to the Ball.

  As there was only a small family dinner at Devonshire House, they returned early, and as they stepped out at the pillared entrance the Major Domo informed them:

  "The ladies have only just retired to the Salon, Your Grace, and the gentlemen are still in the Dining-Room."

  "Then we will slip upstairs without being seen," the Dowager Duchess said with a smile.

  She kissed Petrina on her cheek, saying:

  "Good-night, my dear. Do not wait for me. You know I have to take the stairs slowly."

  "Good-night, Ma'am," Petrina replied, curtseying.

  As the Dowager Duchess put her hand on the bannister and started to move slowly step by step up the stairway, Petrina said:

  "There is a book I want to read in the Blue Drawing-Room. I will just go fetch it."

  She knew she would encounter no-one in that room, for it was never used in the evening. She found the book she wanted and also a magazine which she had been reading earlier in the day.

  She had picked them up and turned towards the door when she had a longing to go out into the air.

  She knew it was unlikely that she would sleep once she was in her bed.

  It had been very hot during the last two days, almost too hot to enjoy riding in the Park, and Petrina wanted to feel the coolness of the night on her cheeks.

  She put down the books she had in her hand, drew back the heavy satin curtains, and opened a French window which led onto the terrace.

  As she stepped outside she could hear voices coming from the Salon and also masculine laughter from the Dining-Room, whose windows also overlooked the garden.

  Petrina, however, slipped down the flight of steps and walked over the lawn in the shadows.

  It was, as she had expected, pleasantly cool, and when she was away from the lights of the house, the moon and stars in the sky above were brilliant enough for her to find the way without falling into the flowerbeds or brushing against the shrubs.

  She remembered there was a seat at the far end of the garden not far from the door in the wall which she and the Earl had used the night she had robbed Si
r Mortimer's house.

  She thought she would sit there and try not to think of how beautiful Lady Isolda was or how alluring Yvonne Vouvray was. There were so many other things, she told herself, that should occupy her mind.

  Because she was in love she wanted, as every other woman has done since the beginning of time, to be better, cleverer, and more beautiful for the man she loved.

  The Earl was so clever, she thought, that it was obvious that he would find her ignorance on so many subjects boring.

  Because she was modest about her own capabilities, Petrina was certain that Lady Isolda could discuss politics, racing, and every other interest he had with a knowledge which because she was so much younger she could not hope to emulate.

  "But I will try," she told herself fiercely, "I will try!"

  The book she was reading and which she had fetched to take up to bed with her concerned the history of thoroughbreds and the breeding of racehorses.

  She had nearly reached the seat she was seeking, and as her eyes searched for its outline in the shadows she saw with astonishment someone rise from it and move quickly out of sight into the shrubs.

  She stood still.

  "Who is there?" she called.

  There was no reply.

  "I saw you," she said accusingly, "so there is no point in hiding!"

  She thought it must be one of the servants and knew that they were not allowed in the garden.

  She reached the seat and as the shrubs behind it were not very thick she thought she saw a figure standing in the midst of them.

  "Come out," she ordered firmly. "Unless you want me to call for one of the footmen to make you do so."

  The shrubs parted and from them there came a man.

  She could see his face by the light from the sky and she realised he was a stranger and not, as she had expected, one of the household.

  "Who are you?" she asked. "And why are you here?"

  "I must apologise," he replied.

  "You realise that you are trespassing?"

  "Yes, and I will leave at once."

  Petrina looked at him uncertainly, then she said: