The Shadow of Sin (Bantam Series No. 19)

by Barbara Cartland

  She was wearing gloves, but instead he kissed the inside of her wrist, his lips lingering greedily on the softness of her skin.

  She felt a shiver of horror run through her.

  She could not explain to herself the repugnance he aroused in her, but it was there, and when she tried to take her hand away he would not let her go.

  Still with his lips against her wrist he raised his eyes to look up at her and she saw in them a lust which shocked her into knowing that she was in the very presence of evil.

  “Until tonight!” Lord Crawthorne said silkily.

  Somehow Celesta found her feet carrying her down the stairs and out through the front door.

  The servant found them a hackney carriage and told it to drive to The Griffon Hotel.

  No sooner had the horses started up than Celesta put her head out the window on the other side and cried:

  “Go to Meltham House in Park Lane ... and quickly!”

  The man obeyed and it took them only a few moments to drive there.

  As they went Celesta felt she was escaping from something so frightening and so disgusting she could hardly bear to think of it even to herself.

  Her whole being was crying out with horror at the idea that Giles had sent her deliberately to Lord Crawthorne knowing what he was like; knowing what his reaction would be.

  And yet, she asked herself, what alternative was there?

  She was so bemused by what had occurred that she did not feel over-awed by the magnificence of Meltham House.

  She could think of nothing but Lord Crawthorne with the lustful expression on his face asking her to dine with him, and she could still feel his lips against her wrist.

  In contrast to Lord Crawthorne, the Earl of Meltham seemed someone solid and secure, a man to whom she could turn in her desperation.

  “Your brother is in prison?” the Earl said with a note of surprise in his voice. “Which prison?”

  “The Fleet,” Celesta answered.

  “For debt, I suppose?” the Earl said. “How have you learnt this? You were not aware of it last night!”

  “He bribed someone to bring us a letter this morning,” Celesta explained. “He asked to see me and Nana and I at once came to London.”

  “You have been to the prison?” the question was sharp.

  “Yes ... we have just come from there.”

  The Earl did not speak and Celesta said in a low voice:

  “It is terrible—ghastly! And Giles has deteriorated because he is so desperate. He has asked me to find the money for his release.”

  She could not look at the Earl as she spoke.

  “And so he sent you to me!” he said, with what she thought was a dry note in his voice.

  “No, no,” Celesta answered quickly. “He asked me to visit Lord Crawthorne, which I have ... done.”

  “You have seen Crawthorne?”

  “Yes ... I have just come from his ... house.”

  “You asked him to help your brother? After all it is mainly his fault that he is in a debtors’ prison.”

  “I know that.”

  “And what did Lord Crawthorne say?”

  “He ... he asked me ... to dine with him tonight ... alone.”

  There was no mistaking the fear in Celesta’s voice. Now the Earl understood why she had been trembling when she entered the Salon and why her eyes were raised to him pleadingly, like a child who asked for help.

  “This should never have happened!” he exclaimed and his voice was angry. “Why did you not come to me at once?”

  “I ... I did what ... Giles told me to do. After all ... Lord Crawthorne was supposed to be his friend.”

  “A friend who has not only won all his money from him, but intends to leave him where he is.”

  “I am ... sure that is what ... he will ... do,” Celesta agreed, “unless...”

  “You will have nothing to do with Lord Crawthorne, Celesta, do you understand? You are not to see him or speak to him again!”

  “I have no ... wish to do so,” she answered. “He is ... horrible! Horrible!”

  “He did not touch you?”

  The question was sharp.

  “No, Nana was with me. I made her stay in the room all the time I was with His Lordship. He told me we were to stay at a Hotel for which he would ... pay, and that tonight I must... dine with him alone!”

  “Now you understand why you should be chaperoned!”

  The Earl paused and added:

  “Or allow me to look after you.”

  Celesta turned her head aside.

  The thought shot through her mind that she would far rather be under the protection of the Earl than at the mercy of Lord Crawthorne.

  After a moment the Earl said quietly:

  “I think you have been through enough for one day without being expected to make decisions of any sort. I am going to send you back to Wroxley.”

  He saw a light come into her eyes. Then she said hesitatingly:

  “And ... Giles?”

  “I will see about Giles,” the Earl said. “Stay here while I speak to my Secretary.”

  He walked from the room. Celesta put her hands to her breast as if to control the relief which swept over her and left her curiously weak.

  Giles would be released and she would not have to dine with Lord Crawthorne!

  She could hardly believe that the fear that had felt like a physical pain inside her was no longer there.

  She undid the ribbons of her bonnet and took it off to lift her hair from her forehead. Then she rested her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes.

  She had not known it was possible to be so frightened of a man as she had been of Lord Crawthorne.

  Yesterday she had believed she was afraid of the Earl, but now he seemed like a rock of strength to protect her against the horror of the evil she had seen in Lord Crawthorne’s eyes.

  ‘Thank you, God,’ she whispered in her heart.

  It was like coming out of a fog into the sunshine to know that she need battle no further on Giles’s behalf.

  The Earl came back into the Library and crossed the room to sit down in a chair beside Celesta.

  “My Secretary is leaving immediately for the Fleet Prison,” he said. “I have instructed him to pay your brother’s debt and give him enough money for his immediate expenses.”

  Celesta drew in her breath and her eyes were shining as she looked up at the Earl.

  “I have arranged for one of my carriages to convey your brother to you at the Cottage,” he went on, “and another vehicle will take you and your Nurse there as soon as we have finished talking.”

  “What can I ... say? How can I ... thank you?” Celesta asked in a low voice.

  “You already know I do nothing without expecting something in return,” the Earl said in his mocking voice, “and so there is a condition that goes with my generosity.”

  “A ... condition?” Celesta asked.

  “It is quite a simple one,” he said reassuringly. “It is that you and your brother will be my guests tomorrow night at the Ball I am giving after the Coronation.”

  Celesta stiffened.

  “A ... Ball?” she said. “But you know how ... out of place I would be...”

  “You will be nothing of the sort,” the Earl contradicted. “You will be the most beautiful woman present and I intend my other guests to realise it.”

  There was a note in his voice which Celesta did not understand and she made a pathetic little gesture with her hands.

  “How can you ... imagine such a ... thing when I shall be in the company of ladies who look like ... Lady Imogen?” she asked almost piteously.

  “You under-value yourself,” the Earl answered. “I want you at my Ball, Celesta, and I think that the least you and your brother can do is to accede to my request.”

  He saw the troubled expression in her eyes and went on:

  “If you are thinking about clothes, as all women do, you shall have the most beau
tiful gown in the whole of London!”

  Celesta drew herself up proudly.

  “I will not allow you to pay for my clothes, My Lord.”

  The Earl smiled.

  “Is not that rather splitting hairs?”

  “What you have paid for Giles is somehow different,” she murmured.

  Then as she knew the Earl was going to argue with her she said:

  “I do have a gown. One in which you will not be ... ashamed of me. It came from ... Paris!”

  “From your mother?”

  Celesta nodded her head.

  “And you were determined never to wear it?” the Earl said with a perception she had not expected of him, “yet at the moment you find it easier to take a gift from your mother rather than from me. Is that right?”

  “It sounds as if I am very ... ungrateful,” Celesta said. “I do not know how to thank you ... how to find words to tell you what I feel about your ... kindness to Giles. It is just that I am ... trying not to be too ... involved with you.”

  The Earl smiled.

  “I think we are both already very involved with each other, Celesta, and there is nothing either of us can do about it except attribute it to Fate.”

  He paused and as she did not speak he said:

  “I am sure there is some literature about Fate and its power over us poor humans that you will be able to find either in the Library at Wroxley, or perhaps here, let us accept it for what it is.”

  He was speaking in a beguiling manner which she found somehow irresistible. Then he rose to his feet.

  “Go home, Celesta,” he said in a kind voice. “Go to bed and forget your troubles. I want you to look very beautiful tomorrow night, and do not be afraid that anyone you meet in my house will ostracise you because of your mother or for any other reason.”

  “You are ... sure you are doing the ... right thing in inviting ... me?” Celesta asked.

  “I am doing what I want to do,” the Earl replied, “and that is always right where I am concerned.”

  Celesta picked up her bonnet from where she had put it on an adjacent chair.

  “I will try to ... please you,” she said in a low voice. “And all the way home I shall be ... thanking you in my heart.”

  She drew in her breath and said a little helplessly: “Perhaps ... one day I shall be able to ... repay you.”

  The Earl was looking at her face. Now he said very softly:

  “You could do that now!”

  She looked up at him in surprise.

  “I want,” the Earl said, “more than I have wanted anything for a very long time in my life, to know if your lips are really so soft and sweet as they seemed to me yesterday in the peach-house.”

  Celesta’s eyes met his.

  Then almost as if she could not help herself, as if she was compelled to do as he wished, she moved towards him with the unself-conscious trust of a child. “You have ... been so ... kind,” she whispered.

  His arm went round her and very gently his lips found hers.

  It was very unlike the demanding, raffish manner in which he had kissed her on the previous day.

  There was something tender and yet at the same time possessive in the manner in which his mouth held her captive.

  She was not afraid and she was glad to give him what he desired because she was over-whelmed with gratitude.

  Then it seemed to her as if something strange and inescapable happened within herself.

  It was not just that he kissed her lips. It was as if he took possession of something deeper; as if her whole being responded to him and for a moment she had no identity of her own.

  There was only the warm insistence of his mouth, tender and yet firm, as his lips seemed to take away thought.

  Something strange and unaccountable seemed to flicker into life within her; incredibly, she wanted him to go on kissing her.

  The Earl raised his head and she was free.

  Then with a strange note in his voice she did not understand he said almost abruptly:

  “You must go, Celesta. Is your Nurse waiting for you?”

  “She ... she is ... in the hall,” Celesta answered, feeling as if she could not understand his question or force herself to speak naturally.

  “The carriage will be at the door,” the Earl said.

  Then they were walking down the corridor towards Nana and Celesta wondered why she felt as if her heart had turned several somersaults and was no longer in its right place.

  Chapter Five

  The King arrived half an hour late at Westminster Hall for his Coronation.

  It was not his fault: Lord Gwydyr, the Acting Great Lord Chamberlain, had torn his clothes while dressing and therefore was forced to keep His Majesty waiting.

  The bells of St. Margarets, which pealed every half an hour from midnight until dawn, were drowned by the boom of the cannons firing across the river and the rockets exploding into the sky.

  When the King appeared in his robes wearing a brown wig, the thick curls of which fell over his forehead and the nape of his neck, he looked as the Earl had expected, extremely impressive.

  He had a dignity which silenced his critics.

  The young people in particular who had gone expecting to laugh were taken by surprise and found themselves affected in a manner which they had not anticipated.

  Indeed the whole scene impressed the spectators with its dignity and splendour.

  The King’s friends, like the Earl, could not help feeling triumphant that once again His Majesty’s excellent taste had confounded his enemies, who had never ceased to grumble and snigger about the Coronation.

  The Procession to the Abbey was led by the King’s Herb-Woman and six young attendants who in accordance with the centuries-old tradition strewed the way with herbs and heavily scented flowers as a precaution against the plague.

  The Barons of the Cinque Ports carried a canopy of gold, but the King had instructed them not to hold, it over his head so that he could be seen by the people on the roof-tops.

  His Majesty was preceded by three Bishops and in front of the Bishops were the Officers of State with the crown, orb, sceptre, and sword of State.

  “Messrs. Rundell, Bridge, and Company,” one of the Royal House-Hold whispered to the Earl, “are wondering if they will ever get paid for the Regalia!”

  The Earl could not help smiling.

  “How much are they owed?” he asked.

  “Thirty-three thousand pounds!” was the reply, and the Earl’s smile was very cynical as he remarked:

  “I think their fears are well founded!”

  The Earl and his fellow-Peers marched in Procession in order of seniority and they were followed by the Dignitaries of the City of London, who were almost as impressive with their chains and emblems of Office.

  Twice the King stopped to give his two pages time to unfold and display his crimson-velvet, gold-embroidered train.

  “Hold it wider,” the Earl heard him say to them in a clear voice.

  The Procession reached the West door of the Abbey at eleven o’clock.

  As the King stepped inside the building the choir burst into the “Hallelujah Chorus” and the Congregation rose and cheered.

  The Ceremony lasted for almost five hours and it was exceedingly hot.

  The King looked very pale and more than once the Earl thought he seemed likely to collapse. But he was revived by sal volatile and a large number of those taking part would have welcomed something stronger!

  The King did not falter during the Crowning Ceremony and when this had taken place, the Peers waved their coronets and with everyone present waving caps and handkerchiefs shouted at the top of their voices:

  “God Bless the King!”

  As the Premier Earl present, the Earl of Denbeigh performed homage to the King, first repeating the Oath of Allegiance, kissing his hand and left cheek and touching with his fingers the crown on his head.

  While this was taking place the Earl heard a voice whisper in
his ear:

  “The Queen is trying to enter the Abbey!”

  “Damnit!” the Earl replied, “I hope they are keeping her out!”

  “I think it will be all right,” his informant replied.

  The Earl found himself worrying that Her Majesty would affect an entrance and upset the King, who, despite the heat and the weight of his robes, was obviously enjoying not only the Ceremony but the sincerity of the acclamations.

  He had in fact been astounded that on the way to the Abbey he had been applauded by the populace.

  He was so used to hearing himself booed, hissed, or shouted at by the London mob that it was like a glass of champagne for him to feel that for once his subjects were pleased with him.

  The Queen on the other hand had lost the fickle sympathy of those who had supported her all through the Trial.

  She set out for the Abbey as planned in her Coach of State drawn by six bay horses.

  Lady Hood and Lady Anne Hamilton sat opposite her, while Lord Hood followed in another carriage.

  But her reception for the first time was far from enthusiastic.

  Most of the spectators in the stands watched her in silence, and the scattered shouts of “The Queen for ever!” were drowned by loud whistling.

  Discouraged by the attitude of the crowd, the Queen stopped her carriage and looked about her.

  When it moved forward again it drew up close to the West door of Westminster Abbey, which was hurriedly closed amidst much confusion.

  The Queen stepped out of the carriage and, leaning on Lord Hood’s arm, approached two other doors which also shut in her face and were guarded by hefty prize-fighters.

  “Am I to understand that you refuse Her Majesty admission?” Lord Hood asked.

  “We only act in accordance with orders,” the Door-Keeper replied.

  The Queen laughed loudly.

  Finally she was turned away by one of the Gold Staffs and as she drove away with the roof of her landau open there were a few shouts and hisses from the crowd.

  Some people called out, “Go away!” “Go back to Como!” or “Back to Bergami,” but otherwise she caused no more stir, and the danger of her upsetting the King was over.

  “She has gone!” someone reported to the Earl in the Abbey.

  “Thank God for that!” the Earl replied.