The Shadow of Sin (Bantam Series No. 19)

by Barbara Cartland

  “Amen! And a plague on all women!” his informant murmured.

  He obviously expected the Earl to agree with him and when there was no response, he moved back to his seat.

  Soon after four o’clock the King, followed by his Peers, proceeded back to Westminster Hall for the Coronation Banquet.

  “You must admit,” the Earl said to the Noblemen beside him, “that when the English put on a spectacle, they do it well.”

  He looked as he spoke at the other Peers, wearing, like himself, their ermine-trimmed robes and coronets, at the Privy Councillors, the Knights of the Bath, and the Officers of State, all in the most spectacular dress.

  The double row of Galleries on each side of the Hall were filled with all the most distinguished and beautiful Peeresses vying with each other in the magnificence of their apparel and the splendour of their gowns.

  Some of them appeared to be literally ablaze with diamonds.

  “It is certainly impressive!” the Peer to whom the Earl had spoken agreed. “I am told that Prince Esterhazy, the Austrian Ambassador, is wearing jewels estimated at eight thousand pounds!”

  Once the King had settled himself down at the table, under a red and gold canopy, the meal was brought in by a procession of House-Hold Officials, while the Duke of Wellington, the Lord High Constable, the Marquis of Anglesey, the Lord High Steward, and Lord Howard of Effingham, the Deputy Earl Marshal appeared on horseback.

  The Deputy Earl Marshal had trouble with his horse and swore at it in a voice that resounded round the Hall.

  The King’s Champion in full armour had, however, taken the precaution of borrowing a white charger from Asheley’s Circus, who, being used to confined spaces and cheering crowds, behaved perfectly.

  The Earl with the Peers and the Bishops at the long table in the centre of the Hall rose to drink His Majesty’s health and the King stood up to thank them for their good wishes.

  The Earl of Denbeigh served turtle soup to the King and to the Royal Dukes and the Earl of Chichester cut up a pineapple weighing eleven pounds.

  It was half past seven before the King retired from the Hall to return to Carlton House.

  It was then that the Peers and the Bishops were at last allowed to sit down and enjoy the Banquet.

  “I do not mind telling you,” the Earl said to a friend sitting next to him, “that I am damned hungry!”

  “So am I!” his friend replied, “and certainly thirsty! Would you like to know what there is to eat?”

  “I cannot see a menu,” the Earl remarked.

  His companion drew a piece of paper from his pocket.

  “I got this from the Caterers,” he said. “I thought it would be amusing to keep to show my sons and grandsons how greedy we were on this auspicious occasion.”

  The Earl laughed and looked at the list.

  160

  tureens of soup, 160 dishes of fish;

  160

  hot joints, 160 dishes of vegetables;

  480

  sauce boats (lobster, butter, mint);

  80

  dishes braised ham, 80 savoury pies;

  80

  dishes of goose, 80 of savoury cakes;

  80

  of braised beef, 80 braised capons;

  1,190

  side dishes;

  320

  dishes of mounted pastry, 320 of small pastry;

  400

  dishes of jellies and creams;

  160

  dishes of shellfish (lobster and crayfish);

  160

  dishes of cold roast fowl, 80 of cold lamb.

  “If we eat all that,” the Earl exclaimed when he had read it, “it is doubtful if we shall be able to waddle home!”

  “The people I am sorry for are the Peeresses,” his friend replied.

  “Of course!” the Earl replied. “I forgot they would get nothing, they must be starving!”

  He looked up at the Galleries as he spoke and saw the ladies in their glittering jewels looking down at them.

  He was aware that Imogen was trying to catch his eye and deliberately inspected the opposite side of the Hall.

  “I will tell you what I am going to do,” his friend went on. “I am going to put some cold chicken in a handkerchief and throw it up to my son. I hope he has the good sense to share it with my wife; otherwise I shall get a cold shoulder when I return home!”

  The Earl was relieved when the Banquet was over and he could return in his ornate State Coach, which had been in the family for over a century, to Meltham House.

  There he found he had plenty of time to have a bath, change, and be ready for his guests, who were invited for ten o’clock.

  Fireworks were exploding in Hyde Park, rockets whistling into the sky, Church bells ringing, and guns thundering as the Earl’s guests began to arrive at Meltham House; many of them still in the elaborate gowns and the glittering tiaras they had worn in the Abbey.

  Among the first to arrive, as the Earl had expected, was Lady Imogen.

  She was wearing a very fine necklace of emeralds which the Earl had given to her during the first weeks of their wild infatuation with each other.

  A tiara of the same jewel glittered in her hair and she immediately informed the Earl that she had borrowed it for the occasion and wished more than anything else in the world to possess it.

  She looked up at him with an expression in her green eyes which was a provocative invitation.

  At the same time he had the feeling that she was calculating how far she could press him into making their association legal.

  He greeted her with courtesy and when she held on to his hand longer than was necessary, freed himself to welcome the next guest who followed her into the large Salon which had been decorated with an amazing display of lilies.

  Beyond the Salon, the windows of the Ball-Room opened onto the garden where fountains were lit by different coloured lights, and Chinese lanterns hung from the trees.

  The paths were edged with fairy lights and there were specially constructed little arbours made comfortable with sofas and soft cushions, where those who found the dancing too strenuous could flirt half screened by fragrant flowers.

  A thousand candles lit the glittering chandeliers in the Ball-Room and in honour of the occasion the decorations were all in red, white, and blue.

  The Earl was known to be very fastidious about his friends and an invitation to Meltham House was more sought after than one to Carlton House.

  Only the most important, intelligent, and amusing of the Beau Monde had been asked this evening.

  The guests were well aware that of all the parties being given in London that evening after the Kings Coronation, an invitation from the Earl was the most prized.

  The Earl was irritated to find that as he greeted his guests, Lady Imogen stood so near to him that it almost appeared as if she were receiving them with him.

  It was quite obvious that she intended to make it very clear to everyone arriving at Meltham House that she had a special place there.

  It was, he thought, what he might have expected her to do.

  At the same time, the fact that she was deliberately inviting comment about their association annoyed him.

  More and more guests arrived and by half past ten he was aware that he was watching the door in an apprehensive fashion which was very unlike his usual air of indifference.

  Then, just as he was beginning to wonder if anything untoward had happened to delay her, Celesta appeared.

  The Earl had sent a carriage for her and Giles, and the fact that they were late was not Celesta’s fault, but her brother’s.

  When Giles had arrived back from the Fleet Prison in the carriage that the Earl had provided for him, Celesta had been glad that he had thought to stop at his lodgings to collect his trunks.

  He had made no effort to tidy himself, shave, or put on a fresh cravat since she and Nana had left him in prison.

  He was in fact extremely drunk and Celesta knew wh
en the carriage drew up at the Garden Cottage it was only because it had taken nearly two hours to travel down from London that he was not incapable.

  On arrival he immediately asked for a drink and when Nana informed him firmly and with truth that there was nothing alcoholic in the house, he swore and, staggering upstairs, pulled off his dirty, stained clothes and got into bed.

  He slept until noon. Then Nana persuaded him to eat a sensible meal and to rest while she pressed his best clothes preparatory for the evening.

  “Why the hell do we have to go to a Ball?” Giles asked Celesta when she went to see him in his bedroom after luncheon.

  “His Lordship asked that we should attend the party he is giving after the Coronation,” Celesta replied.

  “Well, you can go without me,” Giles answered fretfully.

  “I cannot do that,” Celesta said. “To begin with, I cannot go alone, and secondly it was only on condition that we attended his party that the Earl paid your debts.”

  “Did he say so?” Giles asked.

  “Yes,” Celesta answered, “and you do see, Giles, that we must be very agreeable to him; for without his generosity you would still be in that terrible prison.”

  “I expect Crawthorne would have paid up if you had dined with him as he asked you to do.”

  “He wanted me to go alone,” Celesta said, “and, Giles, he is an evil man. I am sure of it. You cannot wish me to have anything to do with a man ... like that!”

  “Nonsense!” Giles said, “Crawthorne is all right. In fact no-one can be more amusing or a better host when he wishes to be!”

  “He did not seem very anxious to pay your debts,” Celesta answered coolly, “and what is more, at first he said he could not afford to do so.”

  Giles appeared to have no answer to this, but after a moment he said:

  “Well, as Meltham has coughed up, there is no need to worry as to who pays them. I cannot think why the hell he wants me to go poodle-faking. If I had enough money I would go to my Club.”

  Celesta clasped her hands together.

  “Oh, Giles, do not go gaming again! Surely you have learnt by this time that you cannot win, and besides the extra money the Earl gave you was not meant to be thrown away at cards.”

  She paused to say firmly:

  “Before you spend one penny of that money you must pay back Nana what she spent yesterday. A pound for the runner who brought your note and it was two pounds of her money that we brought to the prison.”

  “I shall want everything I have got,” Giles said in a surly voice.

  “You are going to pay Nana,” Celesta replied.

  “Oh, very well. Take the money yourself! It is lying on the dressing-table,” Giles said. “But if you think I am going to stay in this benighted hole with, you nagging at me, you are very much mistaken!”

  He was in a disagreeable mood for the rest of the afternoon. Celesta was wise enough to know that it was the result of the drink he had consumed the day before and left him alone.

  Only when it was time to go to London did Celesta and Nana have difficulty in persuading Giles to dress.

  Having spoilt six cravats before he could tie one to his liking, he had kept the carriage for over half an hour.

  Finally they set off.

  For the first time it seemed to Celesta that Giles grew more cheerful.

  “At least I shall get something to drink at Meltham,” he said.

  “Giles! Please be careful. Do not drink too much,” Celesta pleaded. “You know how ashamed I should feel if you were anything but sober, and you look so smart. I am so proud of you at the moment.”

  She flattered and cajoled him all the way to London, and when finally they stepped out at Meltham House he was, she thought with relief, in a surprisingly good humour.

  Despite his disagreeableness about attending the Earl’s party, Celesta thought secretly that he was rather pleased at the thought of being a guest at Meltham House and was well aware that only the elite of Society would be present.

  Celesta had been so concerned for Giles that she had hardly had time to worry about herself.

  She had hated the thought of wearing the gown her mother had sent her and yet, when finally she had it on, she knew that she had never before worn anything so beautiful.

  Her mother had not only sent her the gown from France but she had enclosed with it a small corset that had been introduced the previous year when the straight Empire gowns first designed for the Empress Josephine had finally gone out of fashion.

  Celesta had no idea until this moment how tiny her waist could be or how perfect her figure.

  The frills of lace, the bunches of camellias, and the expensive perfection of the gauze and satin were a perfect frame for the whiteness of her skin and the soft gold of her hair.

  She looked incredibly lovely as she and Giles entered the Salon.

  She stood for a moment in the doorway, her eyes wide and a little apprehensive, the light from the candles revealing the sensitivity of her curved lips and the perfection of her features.

  “I was afraid that something had delayed you,” the Earl said in his deep voice.

  He felt Celesta’s fingers flutter in his and knew she was nervous.

  She swept him a curtsy, then as she rose he still kept hold of her hand.

  “Now that you are here,” he said, “I want you to open my Ball with me, because this is not only my party, Celesta, but also yours.”

  “Mine?” she asked in a very small voice.

  “Your first Ball,” he said, “and I am very honoured that I can be instrumental in introducing anything so lovely to the Social World.”

  What he said was perfectly audible to a number of people who had been standing round talking before Celesta’s entrance.

  There was a silence after he had spoken, then after greeting Giles the Earl led both Celesta and her brother through the Salon and into the Ball-Room

  A number of older guests had already seated themselves on the gold chairs round the room while others were standing at the open windows looking out at the fountains in the garden.

  The Band was playing softly but no-one had as yet begun to dance.

  The Earl smiled at Celesta.

  “Will you honour me with this waltz?” he asked.

  “I ... I am afraid I ... may not be ... good enough,” she replied in a voice that only he could hear.

  “I think you will find that our steps will match each other perfectly,” he replied.

  He put his arm round her waist and drew her onto the floor.

  She was very light and although she was afraid of making mistakes she found it was surprisingly easy to follow the Earl’s lead.

  There was something reassuring in the firmness of his arm round her waist and with her hand in his she felt that she need have no thought for herself, but just leave everything to him.

  They moved round the floor and danced alone for at least a minute before they were joined by other couples.

  The Earl knew that everybody’s eyes in the Ball-Room were on them and they were all speculating as to who Celesta might be.

  He had wanted to find a way of making it quite clear that Lady Imogen was not the only woman in his life.

  He had contrived it in a manner that would ensure, as he well knew, that for the rest of the evening and tomorrow, the gossiping tongues of the Beau Monde would talk only of Celesta.

  “Is it what you expected?” he asked softly.

  “Much, much more marvellous!” she answered, “but will ... people not think it ... strange that you invited me?”

  “One reason is quite obvious,” he answered.

  “What is ... that?”

  “That you are very beautiful.”

  Celesta blushed and dropped her eyes.

  “If you do not smile at me,” he said, “those watching will think I am not saying the pleasant things that you would want to hear.”

  She looked up, saw the twinkle in his eyes, and laughed.
<
br />   “That is better!” he approved.

  “You sound as if you are producing me ... like an actress.”

  “Perhaps I am.”

  “But ... why?”

  “One day I will tell you—but not at this moment.” Celesta glanced round.

  “Your house ... this room ... it is a perfect stage for ... you.”

  “And you?”

  “I am only a strolling player.”

  “Tonight you are the leading lady!”

  “And when the curtain ... falls?”

  “What happens afterwards will be entirely your decision.”

  Celesta felt that everything they said to each other had a deeper meaning than the actual words they spoke.

  She could not explain it even to herself, but it was part of the strange bewilderment, almost an enchantment, that had enveloped her ever since the Earl had kissed her.

  It was like moving in a dream and she could not believe that everything which was happening to her was real.

  “You are like a flower!” the Earl said softly as they moved to a slow waltz.

  “Flowers wither and die ... and are then ... forgotten.”

  “I was wrong—you are not a flower but a star—unforgettable and for the moment out of reach.”

  “It sounds ... distant and rather ... cold.”

  “Then again I have made a mistake because your lips were warm.”

  Celesta blushed again and in her confusion missed a step.

  “You are making me ... stumble,” she murmured.

  “I will take care of you,” he said quietly and his arm tightened round her waist.

  They danced for a long time.

  Then the Earl introduced her to a number of elegantly gowned and slightly older women who had been watching their performance on the dance floor.

  As he had predicted, they were all charming but obviously curious as to who Celesta might be, until one of them remarked: