"If you are a thief or a burglar, I should not allow you to do so."
"I promise you, Miss Lyndon, that I have no intention of stealing anything."
"You know who I am?" Petrina asked.
"Yes."
"But how, and why are you here?"
"I would rather not answer that question, but I promise you I will not do any material harm and I will leave at once if you wish."
"What do you mean by 'material harm'?" Petrina asked.
The stranger smiled and she realised he was young, under twenty-five, and although she could not see him clearly she knew he was dressed neatly, but not with the elegance that might be expected from a gentleman.
"Who are you?" she asked again.
"My name is Nicholas Thornton, which will mean nothing to you."
"What do you do?"
"I am a reporter."
'You are a reporter?" Petrina echoed, then added:
"You mean you are here to report on what is happening tonight? I am sure the Earl would not like that. This is a private party."
She knew that when the Prince dined privately with one of his friends, every step was taken to prevent it coming to the notice of the press.
Nicholas Thornton smiled again.
"I can promise you, Miss Lyndon, that His Royal Highness's presence at Staverton House is not my main reason for being here."
"Then what?" Petrina enquired.
"That is something I cannot tell you, but I would be grateful if you would allow me to stay."
"How did you get in, as a matter of interest?" she asked.
"I climbed over the wall."
"Then you most certainly are trespassing. If I were doing what is right, I should be screaming loudly for help and have you thrown out."
"I am aware of that, but because I know you are kind to people less fortunate than yourself, I beg you to let me stay."
"How do you know I am kind?" Petrina asked suspiciously.
"I have heard about the money you have been giving to the women on the streets."
"If you have heard about it, please do not write anything about it for your newspaper,"
Petrina said pleadingly. "It would annoy my Guardian exceedingly and I too would not wish it to become known publicly."
Nicholas Thornton did not answer and Petrina said:
"Please ... I am asking you this as a favour."
"May I ask one in return?"
"What is it?"
"That you let me stay."
"I suppose that is reasonable," Petrina said doubtfully, "but I should like you to tell me why."
"I will tell you if you swear that you will not change your mind and have me thrown out of the garden."
"1 can only decide that when I hear what you have to say," she answered.
She was trying to be cautious; at the same time, she was aware how much the Earl would dislike any publicity about her generosity to the prostitutes in Piccadilly and she knew how shocked the Dowager Duchess would be at the thought of her speaking to such women.
She sat down on the seat, feeling rather helpless.
"Tell me what you want," she said, "and I will try to understand."
'That is kind of you, Miss Lyndon," Nicholas Thornton said, seating himself beside her,
"because although it may not seem of much consequence to you, it is extremely important to me personally."
"Why?"
"Because if I can get a story tonight it might affect my whole future."
"How could it do that?"
"Have you ever heard of someone called William Hone?"
"I do not think so," Petrina replied.
"He is what is commonly called a 'Press Hero,'" Nicholas Thornton explained. "He has been a Reformer since 1796, when at age sixteen he joined the London Correspondents Society."
"What does he do?" Petrina asked.
"He owns the Weekly Reformists Register."
"I have heard of that," Petrina said. "In fact I have read issues of it."
"I write for it," Nicholas Thornton told her, "but William Hone was in prison last year and because he was not there the paper almost faded away."
"What is he doing now?" Petrina asked.
"He is free, and he intends to bring out a newspaper called John Bull. He has promised me a good position on it if it goes well, and I think it will."
"But it is not yet published?"
"It takes time to bring out a new paper," Nicholas Thornton said. "In the meantime, I am trying to show William Hone exactly what stories I can produce, and he has arranged to have them published by a friend of his who owns the Courier."
"I understand," Petrina said, "but what is this story which is so important to you?"
"I am going to be quite honest with you, Miss Lyndon," Nicholas Thornton said, "because without your goodwill I shall be turned out of the garden. Then I shall be forced, of course, to use the story about you rather than the one I have come here to obtain."
He spoke pleasantly and quietly, but Petrina was well aware of the threat behind his words.
"Tell me," she said.
"You know Lady Isolda Herbert?" Nicholas Thornton questioned.
"Of course."
"And you know that everyone is expecting her engagement to the Earl of Staverton to be announced at any moment?"
"Yes," Petrina said in a low voice.
"Well, apparently," Nicholas Thornton went on, "the Earl is lagging his feet, and Her Ladyship is finding it difficult to make him say the words that will make her the Countess of Staverton."
Petrina did not speak. She only felt that the pain of what this man was saying stabbed at her as if he used a weapon.
"Lady Isolda has thought up a litde scheme of her own," Nicholas Thornton continued.
Petrina stiffened to attention.
"A scheme of her own?" she repeated. "What is it?"
"She has asked me to wait here and note the exact time she leaves the party, which she insists will be several hours after the departure of the Prince Regent"
"What do you mean? What are you saying?" Petrina asked.
Even as she asked the question she saw all too clearly what Lady Isolda intended.
It would be quite understandable that a newspaper, if they knew of it, should report that the Prince Regent accompanied by Lady Hertford had dined at Staverton House.
It would also be of considerable interest to the gossip-loving Beau Monde if they learnt that Lady Isolda Herbert had stayed on afterwards and had not returned to her own house until the early hours of the following day.
There was no doubt of the construction that would be put upon the prolongation of her visit, and the Earl would be forced to make honourable amends for the damage to her reputation by offering her marriage.
Petrina had her suspicions as to where the Earl had been the night he had caught her climbing down the drain-pipe with the stolen letters.
She knew that Lady Isolda's house was only a short distance from his own, but while the Earl might walk home unnoticed, Her Ladyship would drive with all pomp and ceremony from the front door of Staverton House and her servants as well as the Earl's would be aware that what the newspapers reported was true.
The Earl's bed-room in the East Wing overlooked the garden, and perhaps, Petrina thought, Nicholas Thornton would be watching for the light in that window while the others in Staverton House were dark.
It was just the sort of idea that someone like Lady Isolda Herbert would think up, which she knew would force the Earl into marriage simply because it would be impossible for him to do other than the honourable thing.
Petrina had learnt since coming to London of some of the unwritten but very stringent rules by which Society regimented its members.
A gentleman could drink himself under the table, own an astronomical amount of money, and have innumerable love-affairs with ladies and anyone else he fancied, but he must not offend the Social Code.
This protected a lady's reputation, and Pet
rina knew that the Earl, if he offended, would be forced by public opinion to make retribution.
It was a clever plan, but at the same time everything she felt for him cried out against it.
The Earl had told her with his own lips that he had no wish to marry Lady Isolda or anyone else, and she believed him. It was only jealousy that had made her suspect, during the last few days when Lady Isolda's groom was continually knocking on the door, that he was weakening in that resolve.
Now that she had learnt that he was being pressured into doing what he had no wish to do, she knew she must save him.
Her thoughts were turning over and over in her mind, but she had not spoken, and after some moments of silence Nicholas Thornton said a little anxiously:
"I hope you will help me."
His words seemed to come to Petrina out of a fog and she thought frantically that while she had to help him she must somehow prevent him from doing anything which would hurt the Earl.
"How much is Lady Isolda paying you?" she asked.
"Ten sovereigns," Nicholas Thornton answered.
"I will give you twenty," Petrina said quickly.
"It is kind of you, Miss Lyndon, and of course I accept," Nicholas Thornton replied, "but I still have to have a story. My whole future is at stake!"
"A story! A story!"
The two words seemed to repeat themselves over and over in Petrina's brain. Then slowly an idea seemed to form itself piece by piece as if it were a jig-saw puzzle and she said aloud:
"If I give you twenty pounds and a really good story, will you promise not to mention the Earl in any way, especially in connection with Lady Isolda?"
"A good story?" Nicholas Thornton questioned.
"A very good story," Petrina replied.
"Whom does it concern?"
"The Duke of Ranelagh."
"He is news. Anything about him would certainly be acceptable."
'Then listen to me . . ." Petrina said, lowering her voice.
* * *
"Are we going to Ascot?" Petrina enquired of the Dowager Duchess.
The Dowager Duchess shook her head.
"Not to stay. I hope you will not be disappointed, dearest child, but I really could not attend the races for three days without being completely exhausted."
"No, of course not," Petrina agreed.
"I thought we might drive down for the Gold Cup," the Dowager Duchess said, "to back Bella as Durwin will expect us to do."
'That would be delightful," Petrina agreed.
But she could not prevent herself from asking:
"Will he drive with us?"
The Dowager Duchess shook her head.
"No, he is staying at Windsor Castle. The Prince Regent likes to have him there and we are not included in the invitation."
The Dowager Duchess's voice was slightly spiteful as she added:
"I would not really wish to have Lady Hertford patronising me and showing off that she is the hostess. I find it impossible to tolerate that woman!"
"Then it is a good thing we are staying in London," Petrina said with a smile.
"We have already been invited to luncheon in the Royal Box on Gold Cup day," the Dowager Duchess said. "You will find that amusing, and you will be able to wear that pretty gown you bought last week."
"That will be lovely!" Petrina enthused.
But as soon as she was alone she dashed off a note and told a footman to take it to an address which made him raise his eye-brows when he was out of her presence.
Two days later, when the Earl had left for Windsor Castle, driving his team of black horses and looking extremely dashing in a new Phaeton painted in the yellow and black of his family colours, Petrina received a reply to her letter.
She read it, concealed it in her reticule, then went to the Dowager Duchess's Sitting-Room.
"Have you anything particular planned for this evening, Ma'am?" she asked.
"We have no invitations," the Dowager Duchess replied. "As you know, everybody has either gone to Ascot or is pretending to have done so. Our next Ball is on Friday evening after the racing is over."
"Then if you do not mind, Ma'am, I would like to dine with Claire tonight."
"Yes, of course," the Dowager Duchess approved, "and it will give me a chance to have dinner in bed. My leg has been tiresome lately and the Doctor keeps telling me I must rest."
"Then you must be very quiet for the next two days," Petrina said, "and if you do not wish to go to Ascot on Thursday, 1 shall quite understand."
"And miss seeing Durwin's horse win the Gold Cup?" the Dowager Duchess cried. "Leg or no leg, I must be there to see Bella pass the Winning Post."
"Of course!" Petrina smiled. "In the meantime, rest as much as you can. You have been so kind in taking me everywhere, and I know at times you feel very tired."
"There is nothing more tiring or tiresome than old age," the Dowager Duchess replied, "but I can assure you I would not have missed your Season for anything in the world!"
Petrina kissed her, then went to her own room to make plans for the evening.
She naturally had to leave the house in one of the Earl's carriages, which deposited her at Claire's house.
She had already ascertained that Claire was at Ascot, staying with her future father-in-law, and when the Marquess of Morecombe's Butler looked at her in surprise, she said:
"I know Lady Claire is away, but I have a very important message for her to receive the moment she returns. Would you permit me to write it down?"
"Yes, of course, Miss," the Butler replied, and showed Petrina into the Morning-Room.
She scribbled down something which was not of the least importance, sealed it, and handed it to the Butler.
"I should be most grateful if you would see that Lady Claire has it in her hand the moment she returns from Ascot."
'You may leave it to me, Miss," the Butler answered.
He opened the door and looked out into the Square and was astonished to see the carriage disappearing.
"Oh, dear!" Petrina exclaimed in dismay. "The coachman could not have understood that I wanted him to wait. I expect he thought I was dining here as I do so often."
"There has obviously been a misunderstanding," the Butler said.
"Will you please call me a hackney carriage?" Petrina asked.
There was nothing else the man could do, and Petrina drove off, the coachman having been told to take her to Staverton House.
As soon as they left the Square she gave him another address, and when she arrived at Paradise Row in Chelsea it was to find Nicholas Thornton waiting for her.
She stepped out, gave him the money to pay the coachman, and asked:
"You have got them?"
"I have them here," he said, holding out a parcel.
"That is good," Petrina said, "and here is the money I promised you."
She handed him an envelope as she spoke and Nicholas Thornton pushed it into his pocket.
"Is everything arranged?" she asked.
"Everything we planned," he answered. 'That is the house."
He pointed to the one on the corner, which Petrina realised was very attractive.
It had an elegant front door with a fan-light above it, carved porticos, and corniced eaves with deep sashed windows.
The houses in Paradise Row had, she had learnt since she first heard the name, been built during the Stuart times, and one of its first occupants was the beautiful, warm-hearted, and feckless Duchess de Mazarin, who had captured the heart of Charles II.
The King had made her an allowance of four thousand pounds a year. Her principal fault, Petrina had learnt in the books she studied, had been an obsession with gambling, and after the King's death when her debts had become a serious embarrassment she retired permanendy to the house in Paradise Row.
'The King's mistress and the Earl's mistress!' Petrina thought to herself.
Then she put everything from her mind to listen to what Nicholas Thornton was telling her.
"If we move a little way down the Row," he said, "there is an empty house where we can sit on the door-step while we wait."
"It will certainly be more comfortable," Petrina answered.
She let him lead her to the front of the empty house and from there, where no-one entering was likely to notice them, they could see the front door that belonged to Yvonne Vouvray.
Nicholas Thornton dusted the stone step with his handkerchief and Petrina sat down.
She had a feeling that she was doing something extremely reprehensible. At the same time, it was the only way she could think of to save the Earl from Lady Isolda; and she had to keep her side of the bargain with Nicholas Thornton.
She had just seated herself when he said:
'Wait a minute, we might as well be comfortable. I brought some hay here earlier in the day."
Petrina looked to see a bundle of hay pressed into the shadows of the front door where it was not likely to be noticed.
Nicholas Thornton brought it out and heaped some of it on the top step to make a soft seat for Petrina.
She laughed as she said:
"It is as good as a cushion any day!"
When she had once again seated herself he brought a package out of his pocket and handed it to her.
"What is this?" she asked.
"Something to eat," he answered. "I knew you would go without your dinner and I thought you might be hungry."
'You think of everything," Petrina said.
"Detail in a campaign is always important," he said solemnly, and they both laughed.
She opened the packet and found crusts of new bread and slices of ham and cheese, which they shared.
"How long do you think we will have to wait?" Petrina asked after they had munched for a little while in silence.
"Not as long as we had expected."
"Why not?"
"Because I heard today that Mademoiselle Yvonne is not singing at Vauxhall tonight."
"Not singing at Vauxhall?"
"No. She is at home, resting. They told me so at the Gardens."
"But why?"
"Well, from the tradesmen I have noticed calling at the house today, I think she is entertaining someone important for dinner."
"You really think so? Surely that is rather a risk?"
Love, Lords, and Lady-Birds Page 10
