Love, Lords, and Lady-Birds

by Barbara Cartland

  Petrina's eyes were wide.

  "What did you do? How can he blackmail you?"

  "I wrote him . . . letters . . . very stupid letters," Claire said. "You will not understand . . . but he was so fascinating, and I think now ... he wanted me to write ... as I did."

  "What did you say?"

  "How much I loved him . . . how I could never love anyone else . . . and how I was counting the hours until I . . . saw him again."

  Claire gave a heart-rending little sob as she went on:

  "He kept on saying how much my letters meant to him . . . but that he must not . . . write any to me because he was afraid Mama might see them."

  "How many letters did you write?" Petrina asked.

  "I have no idea ... a dozen . . . perhaps more ... I cannot remember."

  "And when did you give up being fond of him?"

  "He gave me up," Claire answered. "He became very enamoured with one of my friends and he . . . dropped me ... I was unhappy for a little while . . . but then I realised I was lucky to be . . .

  rid of him."

  "You certainly were!" Petrina said. "But how can he blackmail you?"

  "He learnt that Frederick and I were in love, and he is demanding that I should buy back the letters which I wrote to him."

  "And if you do not . . . ?" Petrina asked.

  'Then he will take them to Frederick, and although he knows that Frederick will buy them rather than let him show them round the Clubs . . . which he has threatened to do ... I know he will stop loving me when he . . . sees what I have written."

  Petrina sat back on her heels, thinking.

  "How much is he asking?"

  For a moment it seemed as if Claire was unable to reply, then through lips that trembled she whispered:

  "Five thousand pounds!"

  "Five thousand? But that is an enormous sum of money!"

  "Sir Mortimer thinks I would be able to obtain a sum like that quite easily once I am married, and he is prepared to wait until I am! But I am to give him a letter promising that he will receive the money within two years . . . otherwise he will go to Frederick!"

  "It is the most diabolical thing I have ever heard of!" Petrina cried angrily.

  "I know ... I agree . . . but it is all my fault," Claire said weakly. "You are the only person, Petrina, who can help me . . . please . . . please would you . . . lend me the money?"

  "Of course I will, dearest," Petrina agreed, "but before you hand it over so tamely I would like to think about it. I do not see why that man should get away with behaving in such an abominable manner."

  "There is nothing else we can do and no-one we can tell. Promise me, Petrina . . . you will not tell anybody!"

  Claire's pleading was frantic.

  "I promise you," Petrina said, "and I promise too that everything will be all right. Frederick will never know, and you must never, never tell him how foolish you have been."

  Claire gave a deep sigh of relief.

  "Dearest Petrina, how can I thank you?"

  Petrina rose to her feet to walk across the Sitting-Room.

  "You can thank me by not worrying any more and forgetting about the whole thing," she said. "It will take me a day or two to get the money— you understand that?"

  "You will not tell . . . your Guardian?"

  "No, of course not!" Petrina replied. "I will tell nobody, but I want to think."

  "About what?"

  "About Sir Mortimer Sneldon."

  "But . . . why?"

  "Because I have a dislike of knowing that the wicked are flourishing like a green bay tree,"

  Petrina said positively.

  Claire did not understand, but it did not matter.

  She only wiped her eyes again and she moved across the room to put her arms round Petrina.

  "Thank you, thank you!" she said. "You are the kindest person in the world and I can never thank you enough."

  "And you are going to be the happiest," Petrina said.

  "I thought I had . . . lost Frederick," Claire replied. "Oh, Petrina, you do not know how wonderful it is to be in love . . . one day you will feel as I do."

  "I very much doubt it," Petrina said, "but I am very, very glad, Claire, that you are happy."

  She kissed her friend and left, but as she drove back in the Earl's comfortable carriage to Staverton House she was thinking only of Sir Mortimer Sneldon.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE EARL retied his cravat with the experienced fingers which always infuriated his valets, who thought themselves indispensable.

  As he did so a voice behind him said petulantly:

  "Why must you leave? It is still early."

  He did not turn to look at Lady Isolda lying on the couch which he had so recently vacated, but after a moment he said:

  "I am thinking of your reputation."

  There was a hint of laughter in his voice, but Lady Isolda showed she was not amused by replying sharply:

  "If you were really concerned about that, you would marry me."

  There was a silence while the Earl put the finishing touches to the intricate style of his cravat, which was his own invention.

  "We are being talked about, Durwin," Lady Isolda said after a moment.

  "You have been talked about, Isolda, ever since you appeared in the Social Sky like a meteor,"

  he replied.

  "But where you are concerned it is different."

  "Why?"

  "Because there is no reason why you should not marry me, and we would make an exceptional and outstandingly handsome couple."

  "You flatter me," the Earl remarked mockingly.

  Lady Isolda sat up on the couch and pushed the silk cushions behind her back.

  "I love you, Durwin!"

  "I doubt it," he answered. "To be honest, Isolda, I do not think you have ever loved anybody except yourself."

  "That is not true. There is no-one, and this is the truth, no-one who has excited me as you do."

  "That is a very different thing," he said. "And it is not always conducive, Isolda, to a happy marriage."

  "I do not know what you are talking about," she retorted angrily. "All I know is that you are ruining my reputation and the least you can do is ask me to be your wife."

  "The least?" he echoed with raised eye-brows.

  She looked up at him and put out her white arms as he stood at the side of the couch.

  "Kiss me," she whispered. "Kiss me and let me show you how I need you, and how much you need me."

  The Earl shook his head.

  "I am going home, Isolda, and you must have your beauty sleep."

  "When shall I see you again?"

  "Doubtless at some Ball tomorrow night. Is it the Richmonds, the Beauforts, or the Marlboroughs who are giving it? Whoever it may be, it will be exactly the same as all the others we have attended."

  "You know I am not talking about Balls," Lady Isolda said petulantly. "I want to be alone with you, Durwin. I want you to kiss me, to make love to me. I want to be close to you."

  It was difficult to understand why the Earl was not moved by the passion underlying her words, the way in which her lips invited his, and the fire behind her half-closed eyes.

  He turned away to pick up his evening-coat from the chair on which he had flung it and shrugged himself into it.

  He looked resplendent and very elegant; and despite the fact that he had refused her advances and thereby aroused her anger, Lady Isolda could not help thinking that he was the most handsome and attractive man she had ever known.

  He was also the most elusive.

  Since she had known the Earl intimately Lady Isolda had exerted every wile and every allure in her whole repertoire, which was a very considerable one.

  But while it had been quite easy to make him her lover, nothing she could do would make him say the only words she wanted to hear.

  As he looked round the room to see if he had forgotten anything—and in the dim light of three candles this was somewhat d
ifficult—Lady Isolda felt as if he was slipping away from her, disappearing into the shadows, and she might never see him again.

  As if the thought galvanised her into action, she stepped from the couch.

  She ran towards the Earl to fling herself against him, knowing that no other man would be able to resist the softness of her body, the fragrance of the perfume with which her hair was scented, and the passionate demand of her lips.

  "I want you ... I want you, Durwin!" she murmured. "Stay with me, for I cannot bear you to leave me."

  Her arms went round his neck but the Earl removed them with some dexterity and picked her up in his arms.

  He carried her back to the couch and, throwing her down rather roughly against the satin cushions, said:

  "Try to behave yourself, Isolda, until I see you again. If, as you say, people are talking about us, it is more of your making than mine, and you will be the more harmed by it."

  This was irrefutably true and Lady Isolda stared up at him to say angrily:

  "I hate you, Durwin, when you treat me like a child."

  "There is nothing child-like about you, Isolda," the Earl said with a smile. "On the contrary, you are very mature."

  He turned as he spoke and walked towards the door.

  As it closed behind him Lady Isolda gave a cry of sheer fury, and turning over beat the cushions with her clenched fists.

  It was always the same, she thought, with the Earl. He came when it suited him, he left when he wished, and nothing she could say or do made any difference.

  Where other men were concerned she was supreme, and they were slaves to her bidding, but the Earl had been her master from the first moment they had met.

  "I will make him marry me," she swore from between gritted teeth.

  It was an easy thing to say, but the question of how she should do it was a very different matter.

  * * *

  The Earl let himself out of Lady Isolda's house in Park Street and knew he had only a short distance to walk before he reached Staverton House.

  It was convenient, he thought, that he did not have to keep his carriage waiting, thus making his servants aware of his movements.

  Park Street lay at the back of Staverton House and he had only to traverse the Mews, most of which belonged to him, and enter the garden by a private gate for which he had a key.

  It was a fine warm night with a half-moon rising in the sky and it was easy for the Earl to see the way as he walked down the cobbles of the Mews.

  He liked the familiar smells of horse-flesh, leather, and hay, and the sounds of the movements of the animals in their stalls.

  A road which led into Park Lane divided the Mews and on the other side of it was the wall of his own garden.

  He had nearly reached it when ahead of him from a house on the corner there fell from a second-floor window a large object which struck the cobbles with considerable force.

  The Earl started, but he was too far away to see exactly what had fallen. Then he raised his eyes to the windows of the house.

  To his astonishment, he saw a man climb out of the second-floor window and start with some dexterity to climb down a drain-pipe.

  It was quite a hazardous task and the Earl watched with interest the manner in which the thief, for obviously that was what he was, gripped the drain-pipe with his knees and descended slowly and deliberately.

  Walking very softly towards the intruder, the Earl waited until the man had actually reached the ground before he put out his hands to grip him by the neck and the wrist.

  "I've caught you in the act!" he said aloud. "And I can assure you, my man, that this will cost you a number of years in prison, if you are not hanged for the crime."

  His voice seemed to ring out in the silence of the night.

  Then the man he was holding, who he now realised by his size was little more than a boy, gave a cry of fear before he began to struggle.

  He struggled frantically, trying to free himself from the Earl's grip and kicking at his legs, but his efforts were completely ineffectual and after a moment the Earl said:

  "Be still, or I will give you the beating you so richly deserve!"

  As he spoke, the boy's efforts to escape from his clutches dislodged his cap, and he saw a glint of golden hair and beneath it a face which made him stare in sheer astonishment.

  "Petrina!"

  "All right—it's a fair cop!" Petrina replied. "I suppose I have to admit you are too strong for me."

  "What the devil do you think you are doing?" the Earl asked furiously.

  He was so astounded that for a moment he found it hard to express himself and his voice was almost incoherent.

  He relaxed his grip on her as he spoke, and Petrina, shaking herself as if she were a terrier whose fur had been ruffled, picked up her cap from where it had fallen to the ground.

  Then she moved towards the box which the Earl had seen thrown from the window.

  "It is a good thing this did not hit you," she said.

  She picked it up in her arms, and the Earl, with a great effort of self- control, said:

  "I want an explanation and it had better be a good one!"

  Petrina sighed.

  "I suppose I shall have to give it to you, but not here. We must get away."

  She glanced up at the window as she spoke as if she half-expected someone to be looking out; but it was in darkness, as were all the other windows on that side of the house.

  "Where have you been? Who lives there?" the Earl enquired fiercely.

  At the same time, because Petrina seemed to be warning him, he spoke more quietly than he had before.

  She did not answer, but carrying the heavy box started to move away.

  The Earl, not concealing his exasperation, took it roughly from her.

  "I will carry it!"

  Then as he took it he gave an exclamation.

  "I know whose house that is. It belongs to Mortimer Sneldon!"

  His voice was louder, and again looking over her shoulder Petrina said:

  "Hush! Do not shout, you might attract attention."

  "I might attract attention?" the Earl demanded. "And what do you think you are doing?"

  "Come on, let us go quickly," Petrina said.

  She reached the door into the garden of Staverton House ahead of him and waited in the shadow of it, although the Earl was certain that she too must have a key.

  He drew his from his pocket to open the door and she walked in, but as he was carrying the box she waited to close the door behind him.

  Now they were under the trees which bordered the high wall enclosing the garden. There was the fragrance of night-scented stock and some of the lower windows in the house cast a golden gleam onto the terrace ahead of them.

  The Earl walked a little way across the lawn, then stopped at a seat which stood below the terrace.

  "I have no wish for my servants to see you attired in that indecent manner," he said. "We will talk here."

  "No-one will see me," Petrina answered. "I slipped downstairs after your grandmother thought I had gone to bed and came out through the Library window."

  "Very well," the Earl conceded grudgingly, "we will go back the same way.

  He walked ahead of Petrina up the steps and onto the terrace and found as he expected that the Library window was open.

  He entered the room and saw that the candles were lit in the sconces. There was a bottle of champagne open in an ice-bucket waiting for his return and a silver covered dish of pâté sandwiches.

  The Earl put the box he carried down on a table by the sofa and walked across the room to pour himself a glass of champagne.

  He suddenly felt exhausted and it was not only because of the arduous love-making he had experienced with Isolda.

  Finding Petrina dressed as a man and descending from a window in Sir Mortimer Sneldon's house made him feel that he was confronted with a problem that was overwhelmingly formidable.

  Holding the glass of champagne in his ha
nd, he turned to see that Petrina was standing in the centre of the room, watching him.

  She had not replaced her cap and the candlelight accentuated the red of her hair, which the Earl now saw had been swathed tightly round her head.

  Dressed in a tight-fitting pair of pantaloons and a short jacket he recognised as one he himself had worn when he was at Eton, she did not look in the least like the boy she pretended to be but very feminine and, he had to admit, very attractive.

  The fact, however, that her eyes, worried and apprehensive, seemed to fill her small face, and she was very pale, made him feel exceedingly angry.

  "Tell me," he said commandingly, "exactly what you have been doing and why you were in Sneldon's house—dressed like that."

  "I am sorry if it has made you angry," Petrina answered, "but you must admit it was very bad luck that you should have been passing at that particular moment."

  "And if I had not been, I presume you think no-one would have known of this outrageous escapade," the Earl said, his voice rising. "Or had Sneldon something to do with it?"

  There was something so unpleasant in the way he asked the question that instinctively Petrina's chin rose defensively.

  "Sir Mortimer had everything to do with it," she answered, "but not in a way that directly concerns me."

  "What is in that box?"

  The Earl glanced at the box where he had set it on the table and saw that it was in fact a heavy cash-box of the sort used in offices.

  "Do I have to tell you . . . that?" Petrina asked in a low voice.

  "You have to tell me everything!" the Earl asserted. "And I can assure you, Petrina, I have no intention of treating your behaviour as anything but a serious affront to my hospitality."

  "I am sorry if I have made you angry," Petrina said again.

  "What you really mean," the Earl said bitterly, "is that you are sorry I caught you. I suppose you have some good explanation for becoming a thief, although God alone knows what it can be."

  She did not answer and after a moment he stormed:

  "Come on! Tell me the story and let me hear what devilment you have been up to now!"