As the Earl drove back to London he thought that the real reason why he had lost his temper with Petrina was that he disliked her being aware of the machinations of the two women on whom he had bestowed his favours.
He had always disapproved of Petrina coming into contact with the seamier side of life.
He had in fact been horrified that she should have fixed her interest on the poor prostitutes, even while he knew their cause was one of injustice and suffering.
He knew she was exceptional in that she was not only sensitive but had very deep feelings for those less fortunate than herself.
While he admired her for her desire to help, he considered it his duty as her Guardian to tell her not to.
It was so like Petrina, he thought, to stumble inadvertently on the tangled relationship between himself, Yvonne Vouvray, and the Duke.
When the Courier had appeared, carrying the story of the fire in Paradise Row, the Earl had to put up with a great deal of good-natured chaff from his friends and the open sneers of his enemies.
He had been too successful as a sportsman and too outstanding a social figure for people to miss enjoying the feeling that his mistress by being unfaithful to him behind his back had taken him down a peg or two.
The Earl accepted everything that was said to him with a cynical smile and an imperturbable good humour which took much of the satisfaction away from those who baited him.
But secretly, inside himself, he was furious at being humiliated, and he knew now that he had disliked more than anything else the fact that Petrina should be aware of it.
For the first time in his life he questioned his own behaviour and felt something suspiciously like shame.
Ruthlessly he had sent a message to Yvonne Vouvray, telling her to move out of his house in Paradise Row.
But, as he might have anticipated, she had already expected this to happen and had availed herself of the protection of an exceedingly rich, elderly Peer who had been pursuing her for some time.
She had of course not returned the expensive jewellery which the Earl had given her, nor the carriage and horses.
The Earl had made no effort to reproach the Duke or alter in any way his usual acknowledgement of their acquaintance.
He knew the young nobleman was nervous, he knew there was speculation in the Clubs as to whether he would "call him out," but it was characteristic of the Earl that having made a bad bargain he was prepared to forget it
But Petrina's revelation of her part in the episode had made this impossible. And the Earl found himself not only angry at the way he had been treated, but exceedingly annoyed that it should have involved anyone so young and so lovely as his Ward.
By the time the Earl reached London he was regretting the things he had said to Petrina and determined to make amends.
He now understood that she had done what she thought was best for him.
It was reprehensible of course that a debutante should be involved in such matters, but Petrina was not the ordinary type of debutante who would either have been deeply shocked at what she heard or else giggled about it with her friends.
"She has courage," the Earl told himself, "and the most imaginative mind I have ever encountered."
Only Petrina, he thought with a somewhat rueful smile, could have concocted anything so fantastic as driving Yvonne Vouvray and the Duke into the street inadequately clothed because fireworks had been lit in the basement area of the house.
The more he thought about it the more he found it amusing, and by the time he was tooling his horses through the traffic-laden streets he could genuinely laugh about the whole affair.
He almost wished he had seen the Duke wearing nothing but a bedspread over a pair of pantaloons and Yvonne in a diaphanous negligeé surrounded by Firemen.
He had been shown the cartoon that had been drawn of the incident and he told himself that he would undoubtedly keep a copy to remind himself in future to put no trust in "Lady-Birds,"
as Petrina had called them.
He was still smiling when he drove his horses up Park Lane and into the drive of Staverton House.
It was six-thirty P.M. and he decided that he would not dine at White's with his friends as he had promised, but instead would stay at home and make amends to Petrina for his bad temper.
The Major Domo, however, informed him that Miss Lyndon had not returned.
"She went driving, M'Lord, at about one o'clock."
"With whom?" the Earl enquired.
"I regret, M'Lord, that as I was belowstairs she was seen off by one of the footmen, who did not know the name of the gentleman who called for her, although he says he has seen him here in the past."
The Earl wondered who it could be and went upstairs to his grandmother's room.
She looked up with delight at seeing him.
"Did you enjoy yourself at Osterley Park?" she enquired.
"It is certainly a magnificent house," the Earl answered. "Who is Petrina with?"
"Petrina?" the Dowager Duchess asked. "I have not seen her since this morning. I am afraid that I have been sleeping the whole afternoon."
"I expect she will be back shortly," the Earl said, anxious not to upset his grandmother.
He knew that she, like most elderly people, was given to worrying over small things.
He went to his own room to change, but learnt when he went downstairs before dinner that Petrina had still not returned.
He waited for over an hour, then in an ill humour sat down to dinner alone.
He thought it extremely remiss on Petrina's part if she intended to dine with friends not to have sent a message to inform his grandmother that she was not returning until later.
It was unlike her, because ever since she had come to Staverton House she had always shown the Dowager Duchess the most exquisite courtesy and good manners, which had delighted the older woman.
The Earl had the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps, because Petrina was so upset by what he had said to her, she was deliberately delaying her return in case he should continue to berate her.
He could not help remembering that he had told her to get out of his sight and he wished that he had chosen his words more carefully or rather had tried from the beginning to understand the motive behind her behaviour.
When dinner was over the Earl repaired to his Library with instructions that he was to be notified the moment Petrina returned.
He read the day's newspapers and picked up a book which so far he had found absorbing, but he was unable to concentrate on it.
He found himself continually looking at the clock and despite every resolution to the contrary he found his anger rising again.
"It is ridiculous of Petrina to disappear like this," he said to himself.
Just as he was about to ring the bell to ask if by any chance she had returned without his knowledge, the door opened and Petrina came in.
He had been about to reproach her for causing him anxiety, then he took one glance at her and the words died on his lips.
He had only to look at her pale face, the stricken expression in her eyes, and her hair, which had been blown untidily about her uncovered head, to know that something very untoward had occurred.
Petrina stood looking at him and he saw that she was trembling.
"What has happened?" he asked.
For a moment it seemed as if she could not reply. Then in a hoarse little voice, speaking so low that he could hardly hear the words, she answered:
"I ... I have . . . killed a m-man . . . and stolen a chaise!"
She swayed as she spoke and in two steps the Earl was at her side.
Her body sagged against his as he put his arms round her and drew her to the sofa.
"Forgive me . . . forgive me!" she murmured unhappily.
The Earl laid her back against the cushions and went to the grog-tray to pour out a little brandy.
He carried it to her side, sat down, put his arm round her, and lifted the glass to her lips.
> "Drink!" he said. "Then you can tell me what has happened."
She took a sip, then shook her head, hating the taste of it
"Drink more!" the Earl said firmly.
Because she was too weak to argue she did as he told her.
She felt the fiery spirit course down her throat to take away the darkness that had seemed to rise up from the floor to encompass her.
When she raised her hand to push aside the half-empty glass, the Earl set it down on the table beside the sofa. Then he said quietly and calmly in his deep voice:
"Now tell me what has occurred."
Petrina's eyes were dark and frightened as she raised them to his.
"I ... I killed him," she said. "I . . . killed him."
"Killed whom?"
"Lord . . . Rowlock!"
The Earl's lips tightened, but still quietly he said, in a voice without expression :
"Suppose you tell me exactly what happened."
Hesitatingly, stumbling over her words but somehow able to speak because she was holding on tightly to the Earl's hand, Petrina explained how she had met Lord Rowlock in the Park, and that because she was so hurt and unhappy at what the Earl had said to her she had accepted his invitation to race Lady Lawley.
"I think now," she said miserably, "that I was . . . not racing . . . anyone. It was . . . just an excuse on the part of Lord Rowlock to . . . get me ... to go away with him."
The Earl encouraged her to continue and she told him how she had fallen asleep at the Plume of Feathers, and then that Lord Rowlock had discovered that one of the horses had cast a shoe.
She looked up at the Earl as she spoke and saw a cynical twist to his lips as he said:
"It is a trick as old as hell, but you were not to know that."
She told him how they had had dinner while they were supposedly waiting for the blacksmith to arrive, and how when the meal was ended Lord Rowlock had admitted to her that he had planned all along for her to stay the night with him, so that she would be forced to marry him.
"I knew then," Petrina said in a broken little voice, "how . . . foolish I had been to ... go with him in the . . . first place. I tried to . . . run away . . . b-but he was strong and I knew I was . . .
helpless once he put his . . . arms round me."
Her voice died away on a little sob and after a moment the Earl asked:
"What happened?"
"As I was . . . struggling he had b-backed me against a side-table," Petrina answered. "There had been c-cold dishes on it when we were having dinner. I put out my hand ... I felt the handle of a . . . knife."
Her fingers tightened convulsively on the Earl's.
"I . . . knew it was the only . . . thing that could s-save me," she faltered.
The Earl did not speak and after a moment she went on:
"His arms held m-mine to my sides . . . and I could only just m-move my hand . . . but I . . ."
Again her voice died away and the Earl asked:
"What did you do?"
"I d-drove the . . . knife with all my f-force into his . . . stomach!"
She gave a little cry.
"It was horrible! It went in so easily . . . right up to the hilt . . . and for a moment he did not m-move . . . then he screamed and fell d-down."
The Earl felt Petrina shivering as if with the shock.
"He lay there and the blood began to . . . ooze out . . . crimson . . . all over him."
"What did you do?" the Earl asked.
"I could not look ... I could not s-stand there . . . and I was sure he was . . . dead!"
She drew in her breath as if remembering how terrifying it had been.
"I ran out of the room . . . down the passage . . . the door of the Inn was . . . open and outside I saw a . . . c-curricle. It was not a smart one like yours . . . but it was drawn by two horses . . . and there was a g-groom holding the reins."
There was a little pause before she forced herself to continue:
"I r-ran to the side of the curricle and s-said:
"'There has been an accident! Your master needs you immediately! I will hold the horses for you.'"
"He believed you?" the Earl asked.
"He handed me the reins," Petrina replied, "and I climbed into the driver's seat and drove off."
The Earl could not help thinking she had been rather ingenious in effecting her escape.
"I thought I heard someone shouting after me," Petrina said, "but I did not look back. I whipped up the horses . . . drove onto the main road and . . . set off for London."
She told the Earl how she had soon discovered that she was not as far from London as she had thought and that Lord Rowlock must have taken her by a far longer route than was necessary in order to prolong the time it took them to reach the Plume of Feathers.
Then as her narrative came to an end Petrina's head dropped low and she said in a small, frightened voice:
"He is . . . dead ... I am sure of it."
"That is something 1 will find out," the Earl said.
She looked up at him questioningly and he went on:
"1 will not only discover whether Lord Rowlock is dead, but I will also return the chaise you—borrowed. I have no wish for you to be branded as a thief."
He was smiling as he spoke but as he would have risen to his feet Petrina held on tighdy to his hand with both of hers.
"Do not . . . leave me!" she begged.
"I have to for a little while," the Earl replied, "but I will not be longer than I can help. Stay here, or go to bed, Petrina. I will come and tell you exactly what has happened as soon as I return."
He rose, but she still would not let him go.
"I am . . . sorry," she said. 'Terribly . . . terribly sorry that I should have caused a . . . scandal, which I know you will . . . hate."
"There will be no scandal if I can help it," the Earl said firmly. "Do not despair, Petrina.
Things may not be as bad as you think."
He took his hand from hers, then he bent down to put his arm under her legs to turn her round so that she was lying on the sofa.
"Go to sleep," he said. "You are tired out and it is not surprising. Nothing is more exhausting than fear."
She looked up at him, her eyes very large in her pale face.
"I will be as quick as I can," the Earl promised, and bending kissed her lips.
It was only a light kiss that he might have given to a child.
But he knew as he went from the room that it was not a child he had kissed, nor was there anything childish in the response he felt.
Petrina lay on the sofa where he had left her and told herself that the most wonderful thing she had ever known in her whole life was the touch of his lips on hers.
She knew he had only kissed her to reassure and comfort her after all she had been through, but because she loved him everything else she was feeling was swept aside by the leap of her heart and a rapture such as she had not known it was possible to feel.
He had kissed her!
That was something she would be able to remember for the rest of her life, then insidiously the thought came to her that perhaps she would not have a very long life.
After all, she had killed a man, and the penalty for murder was death.
Petrina had read of the horrors a condemned criminal suffered in Newgate Prison before he was hanged or alternatively—which was considered a more merciful sentence—transported.
Everything she had read about the sufferings of those condemned to prison or sent to Australia seemed to rise up and haunt her and with a little cry she put her hands over her face.
Then she began to wonder if in fact the Earl would reach the Plume of Feathers to find out what had happened before the Police came to Staverton House in search of her.
Supposing, she asked herself, the Landlord finding the dead man had immediately alerted the Constabulary and she was arrested before the Earl returned to support her?
She did not know whether or not the Inn-keepe
r was aware of her identity.
Lord Rowlock may have told him who she was and even, as Nicholas Thornton had done, given her name as a guarantee that the bill would be paid.
Because everything she thought of frightened her, Petrina rose to her feet, and as she could not lie down or rest as the Earl had told her to do, she went upstairs to her own room.
She did not ring for her maid but looked at herself in the mirror and was appalled at what she saw.
When she had left the Plume of Feathers she had no bonnet on her head and her hair was in wild disarray.
Her gown, too, from her struggle with Lord Rowlock and because she had worn it all day was creased besides being dusty.
She pulled it off and flung it on the ground, then having washed went to the wardrobe.
As she opened the doors she could not help wondering what was the best gown to wear in prison and found herself shivering again with sheer terror.
She found herself listening in case she should hear voices coming up the stairs and waited for a knock on the door of a servant to tell her that the Police were waiting below.
"I must hide!" Petrina told herself. "I must hide somewhere safe until the Earl returns."
Hastily she put on another gown and taking down a dark velvet cloak put it over her shoulders.
Her reticule containing money was in a drawer of her dressing-table.
A few minutes later she opened the door of her bed-room, and so as not to be seen by the footmen on duty in the Hall, she went down another staircase.
This led her to the passage in which was situated Mr. Richardson's office.
She went to the door and listened, but there was no sound and she was quite certain that by now he would have retired to his own apartments in another part of the house.
She opened the door cautiously.
There was one oil-lamp burning, but it was enough for her to see clearly what she sought Moving almost like a shadow, she went to the board on the wall and without difficulty, because the keys were all labelled, found the two which belonged to the house in Paradise Row.
She took one, then letting herself out onto the terrace she ran across the garden to the gate in the wall.
* * *
Love, Lords, and Lady-Birds Page 14
