Read Online The Saint and the Sinner by Barbara Cartland - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Cartland
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seen off Sir Edward and his friends with shrieks, cries, and hiccups which had echoed round the marble hall and made even the flags from the ancient battlements seem to sway with the noise.
Now all the house-party were climbing up the Great Staircase and the tired servants were locking and bolting the front door, preferring to scurry off to their own quarters.
The gentlemen had more command over their actions than the women had.
Caro had collapsed altogether and Richard was carrying her rather unsteadily.
Hettie was still at the noisy stage, protesting, like Kitty, that she had no wish to go to bed and that she wanted another drink.
The Earl had got Kitty to the landing when she struggled unexpectedly against him, and, as he had not a firm hold on her, she collapsed against a valuable piece of furniture, knocking over a vase of flowers.
“I want to – dance,” she said. “Let’s go and – dance.”
“You had better go to bed, Kitty,” the Earl said.
“I won’t! I won’t!” she cried defiantly.
Then she swayed against him so that he was forced to support her with both arms.
“I’ll give you a hand, M’Lord,” a voice said, and Mrs. Jenkins put her arm round Kitty’s waist.
Together they propelled her down the corridor and into the magnificent room which had always been occupied by the Countesses of Chartwood.
As they reached the bed, the Earl realised that Kitty was no longer fighting. Her eyes were shut and she had gone limp.
“Out cold!” Mrs. Jenkins remarked. “I’ll put her to bed, Your Lordship.”
She too spoke in a slurred way, which made the Earl look at her sharply.
The Housekeeper’s face was very red and her hair was untidy. There was no doubt that she had been drinking.
She picked up Kitty’s legs by the ankles and flung them down with almost a disdainful action.
“You won’t be hearing from her, M’Lord, ‘til morning,” she said in an impertinent manner, “so Your Lordship’ll be sleeping – alone.”
The Earl frowned but he did not answer, and after a moment Mrs. Jenkins added,
“Everyone else is tied up nice and tidy. One gentleman, Sir Gilbert Something-or-other, gives me a guinea to tell him in which room your cousin is sleeping.”
The Earl stiffened.
He seemed about to say something. Then, as if he thought any rebuke would be useless, seeing the state Mrs. Jenkins was in, he turned and went from the room.
He walked down the corridor to where he knew the Rose Room was situated.
He had arranged the other bedrooms himself, but he would not have known where Pandora was had not she said at dinner,
“It is so lovely to be back here and to sleep in the Rose Room, where I have slept before.”
“Did you often stay here when you had a house in the village?” he had asked.
“Only when Papa and Mama went away on what they called ‘a second honeymoon.’ They so loved being alone together, but they could not afford to do so very often.”
The Earl had been about to ask her more about her life, but Kitty had demanded his attention, jealous that he should speak to any woman other than herself.
Now he reached the Rose Room, which was at the end of the corridor where the central part of the great house joined the West Wing.
For a moment he hesitated outside the door. There was no sound, but there was a light beneath the door and he was surprised that Pandora was still awake.
Very gently he tried the handle; it turned, and he opened the door and went in.
There were only two candles, both of which were guttering low on the table beside the bed.
Then as he looked round the silk curtains which fell from a corola fixed to the ceiling, he saw that Pandora was asleep.
She was lying against the pillows with her fair hair falling over her shoulders, and by her hand on top of the sheet was an open book.
The Earl drew a little nearer.
He stood looking down at her small heart-shaped face and at her long, natural eye-lashes like half moons silhouetted against her
Now all the house-party were climbing up the Great Staircase and the tired servants were locking and bolting the front door, preferring to scurry off to their own quarters.
The gentlemen had more command over their actions than the women had.
Caro had collapsed altogether and Richard was carrying her rather unsteadily.
Hettie was still at the noisy stage, protesting, like Kitty, that she had no wish to go to bed and that she wanted another drink.
The Earl had got Kitty to the landing when she struggled unexpectedly against him, and, as he had not a firm hold on her, she collapsed against a valuable piece of furniture, knocking over a vase of flowers.
“I want to – dance,” she said. “Let’s go and – dance.”
“You had better go to bed, Kitty,” the Earl said.
“I won’t! I won’t!” she cried defiantly.
Then she swayed against him so that he was forced to support her with both arms.
“I’ll give you a hand, M’Lord,” a voice said, and Mrs. Jenkins put her arm round Kitty’s waist.
Together they propelled her down the corridor and into the magnificent room which had always been occupied by the Countesses of Chartwood.
As they reached the bed, the Earl realised that Kitty was no longer fighting. Her eyes were shut and she had gone limp.
“Out cold!” Mrs. Jenkins remarked. “I’ll put her to bed, Your Lordship.”
She too spoke in a slurred way, which made the Earl look at her sharply.
The Housekeeper’s face was very red and her hair was untidy. There was no doubt that she had been drinking.
She picked up Kitty’s legs by the ankles and flung them down with almost a disdainful action.
“You won’t be hearing from her, M’Lord, ‘til morning,” she said in an impertinent manner, “so Your Lordship’ll be sleeping – alone.”
The Earl frowned but he did not answer, and after a moment Mrs. Jenkins added,
“Everyone else is tied up nice and tidy. One gentleman, Sir Gilbert Something-or-other, gives me a guinea to tell him in which room your cousin is sleeping.”
The Earl stiffened.
He seemed about to say something. Then, as if he thought any rebuke would be useless, seeing the state Mrs. Jenkins was in, he turned and went from the room.
He walked down the corridor to where he knew the Rose Room was situated.
He had arranged the other bedrooms himself, but he would not have known where Pandora was had not she said at dinner,
“It is so lovely to be back here and to sleep in the Rose Room, where I have slept before.”
“Did you often stay here when you had a house in the village?” he had asked.
“Only when Papa and Mama went away on what they called ‘a second honeymoon.’ They so loved being alone together, but they could not afford to do so very often.”
The Earl had been about to ask her more about her life, but Kitty had demanded his attention, jealous that he should speak to any woman other than herself.
Now he reached the Rose Room, which was at the end of the corridor where the central part of the great house joined the West Wing.
For a moment he hesitated outside the door. There was no sound, but there was a light beneath the door and he was surprised that Pandora was still awake.
Very gently he tried the handle; it turned, and he opened the door and went in.
There were only two candles, both of which were guttering low on the table beside the bed.
Then as he looked round the silk curtains which fell from a corola fixed to the ceiling, he saw that Pandora was asleep.
She was lying against the pillows with her fair hair falling over her shoulders, and by her hand on top of the sheet was an open book.
The Earl drew a little nearer.
He stood looking down at her small heart-shaped face and at her long, natural eye-lashes like half moons silhouetted against her
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