Free The Saint and the Sinner by Barbara Cartland

men
    Have erred, and by bad women been deceived.
     
    ‘Was that what had happened?’ she wondered.
    She was still puzzling over it when she fell asleep.
    *
    Pandora was awakened by a knock on the door and started nervously, only to realise that the sun was golden at the sides of the curtains and it was morning.
    She jumped out of bed to unlock the door and found Mary standing there with a breakfast-tray in her hands.
    “Breakfast in bed?” Pandora exclaimed. “How exciting! It is something I have not enjoyed for years.”
    Without waiting for Mary to reply, she hurried across the room and got back into bed, patting up the pillows behind her back and smoothing the creases from the sheets.
    Mary put down the tray in front of her and Pandora looked at it with delight.
    There was not only a silver dish with a cover, there was toast in a silver rack, golden butter, honey, and a huge peach.
    It all reminded her of the time when she had been laid up, before her mother had died, with an attack of laryngitis.
    The doctor had said she was to stay in bed and keep warm. Her mother had spoilt her with all sorts of delicacies, so that she had looked forward to mealtimes almost greedily.
    She was just about to reminisce about it with Mary, when looking at the maid she saw that her eyes were swollen and red with tears.
    “What is the matter, Mary?”
    “Nothin’ I can tell you, Miss Pandora,” Mary answered, “but this be a real wicked place, an’ that’s th’ truth!”
    “What has happened?” Pandora asked.
    “I shouldn’t be tellin’ you such things.”
    “What things?”
    Mary twisted her fingers in her apron and Pandora saw that tears were filling her eyes.
    She was evidently thinking over what she should do, then suddenly she burst into tears.
    “It’s – cruel and – hard, Miss Pandora – that’s what it is –and wicked! I never knowed such wickedness existed!”
    Pandora moved the breakfast-tray to the other side of the bed.
    “You must tell me what has happened, Mary. You know I will help you if I can.”
    “It’s that Mrs. Jenkins, Miss. She’s a bad woman! Really bad, she be!”
    “What has she done?” Pandora asked.
    Mary looked towards the door and saw that she had left it partly open when she came in with the tray.
    Swiftly she ran to it and shut it, and with the tears running down her cheeks she came back to the bedside.
    “I daren’t tell me mother what she says t’ me this mornin’,” Mary began, her voice heavy with tears.
    “But you must tell me,” Pandora insisted.
    “Well, Miss, I comes here two days ago t’ help in th’ house, an’ as you guessed, we were glad o’ th’ money. Father’s been sacked by His Lordship’s new agent.”
    “Sacked?” Pandora questioned. “But your father has worked in the gardens ever since I can remember.”
    “Th’ new agent, Mr. Anstey he’s called, has brought in a lot o’ his own friends, Miss, an’ given them all cottages on th’ Estate.”
    “What do you mean – given them cottages?”
    “Turned out th’ old people – me Granny being one o’ them.”
    “Mrs. Clay! Do you mean to say that Mrs. Clay has been turned out of her cottage?”
    “Yes, Miss, an’ there’s nowhere else for her t’ go except th’ Workhouse if me father doesn’t get a job soon.”
    “It is disgraceful!” Pandora exclaimed. “Mrs. Clay and your grandfather worked on the Estate all their lives.”
    “I know, Miss, but that don’t count for nothing nowadays.”
    “Then it should!” Pandora said positively. “Now, tell me what has upset you, Mary.”
    “I oughtn’t rightly t’ speak o’ it, not t’ a lady like yourself.”
    “Tell me!”
    “Last night, Miss, known’ what I’d heard of th’ goings-on in the household, I locks me door when I goes t’ bed.”
    “That was a sensible thing to do,” Pandora said, remembering how Sir Gilbert had come to her room.
    “‘Twas very late, an’ I’d been asleep a long time,” Mary went on,