Philippa Gregory - Meridon

32

I cried off from the ball that night, from the visit and from Maria’s supper party. I pleaded sick and offered as evidence my sore throat and my hot forehead. Lady Clara put her cool hand against my head and said that I might be excused tonight but tomorrow I must be well because the Princess Caterina was giving a luncheon party and we had managed to get an invitation. I nodded and I submitted to being dressed in my nightdress and wrapper and confined to the stuffy little bedroom with a bowl of soup and a pastry and some fruit.

I tried to read one of Lady Clara’s novels but I found it heavy going. It was by a man called Fielding and I was angry with him because the chapter headings at the top of the pages did not tell me what was happening in the story. They were no use for me, who only wanted to appear as if I had read the book.

For some reason I thought of the bills from the bank and took the fancy to look at them again. The key to the drawer was in the top drawer, where I always kept it. The drawer unlocked easily and slid open. It moved smoothly as if it were lightly laden.

It was lightly laden. I had given Perry most of my gold in the morning, and the eleven folded bills of £3,000 each were missing.

I said, ‘Oh,’ very softly, and I stood still for a little while, then I pulled up the pretty white and gold chair and sat before the table and looked at the empty drawer.

I thought of the maid – but she had been with the Haverings for years and Lady Clara’s jewels alone were worth far more. I thought of the kitchenmaid who had helped me to get Perry to bed, but she was not allowed upstairs. I thought of the footmen, but they were rarely upstairs and never in my bedroom.

No one entered my bedroom except Lady Clara, my maid, myself and Perry.

I had known it was Perry as soon as I saw the drawer was empty. I had been trying to avoid knowing that it was him.

I sat very still and quiet and thought for a little while.

He was a gambler. I had seen gamblers before. Not like my da who did it for a living, and not like men I had seen who did it for fun. For some men it is a lust worse than drink when it gets them. They cannot leave it alone. They believe themselves lucky and they bet on one game after another. They don’t care what the game is – the bones or the cards, horses, cock-fighting, the dogs, badger-baiting – it is all alike to them. Their faces sweat and get red, their eyes get brighter when they are gaming. They look like men about to have a woman. They look like starving men excited by food. They were a blessing to Da for you can cheat them over and over again when they are mad to win.

I was afraid Perry was one of them.

I was not even angry.

I suppose I knew he could not help himself. I suppose that inside I was still a pauper and the thick wads of paper money never really felt as if they belonged to me. I think also that my heart was not in this marriage, nor in the life I was leading. Rich or poor, wed or single, she was not here. I could not see that it mattered. And I had very low expectations of Perry.

I had known he was a drinker. I had thought he might be a gambler. If I had been asked, I could have predicted that he would steal from me, or from his mama, or from anyone who was close to him and ready to trust him.

But something had to be done about it. I would have to see Perry, I would have to tell Mr Fortescue, I would have to tell Lady Clara.

I sighed. My sore throat was no better and my head was aching from weariness. I walked across the room to my bed and thought I would lie down and rest, wait for Perry to come in and then speak to him.

I must have dozed then, for I next stirred when the clocks struck three, and a little after that I heard a stumble and a bump on the carpeted stairs. I raised my head but I did not move. Then in the firelight I saw the handle of the door turn, very very slowly.

Peregrine staggered into the room.

I lay still and did not say a word. I half closed my eyes and watched him through my eyelashes. He took a half step inside the room and shut the door behind him.

‘Sssshhh,’ he said to himself; and giggled.

I lay in silence, waiting for what would come next. The drunken repentance, the blustering explanation, the tears, the promises to reform.

He stepped quietly over to my dressing-table and there was a sudden scuffle as he collided with the chair.

‘Careful!’ he cautioned himself loudly. ‘Not too much noise now! Don’t want to wake her up! She’s going to have a surprise in the morning!’

I opened my eyes a little wider. I had not expected Perry to be joyful. I had thought he had come back for the last ten guineas, perhaps for my jewels.

In the flickering light from the dying fire I saw him pulling something out of his pocket, pieces of paper, and then I heard the chink of coins.

‘Perry, what on earth are you doing?’ I demanded and sat upright in bed.

He jumped like a deer.

‘Damme, Sarah! Don’t shout at me like that when I’m trying to give you a surprise!’ he said.

‘You’ve already given me one,’ I said tightly. ‘You’ve robbed me, Perry. There’s £33,000 in bills made out to me missing from that drawer, and I know you took them.’

‘These you mean?’ Perry said joyfully. I reached over for my candle and lit it. He was waving a sheaf of papers at me. I squinted against the sudden light. They were the same ones.

‘You brought them back?’ I asked in surprise. ‘You didn’t gamble?’

‘I won!’ Perry declared.

He staggered over to the bed and caught at one of the bedposts. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and shovelled out papers and coins. ‘I won and won and won!’ he said. He giggled delightedly and spilled coins and notes of hand over my bed.

‘I have an unbeatable system,’ he said. ‘An unbreakable system. I have an unbreatable system an unbeakable system a beakless system, a breathless system!’

‘How much?’ I asked, a gambler’s daughter again.

Perry put my notes to one side and shovelled out the rest of his pockets and we made piles on the counterpane of coins, and notes of hand, and paper money.

Altogether it came to something like £22,000.

‘Perry,’ I said, awed.

He nodded, beaming at me. ‘Unbreatheable!’ he said, with satisfaction.

We were silent for a moment.

‘You shouldn’t have taken my money,’ I said.

He blinked at me. ‘I had to, Sarah,’ he said. ‘I’d have asked you, but you weren’t here. I had to. Mama was talking of wearing her diamonds to present you at Court – I had to have money.’

I frowned. ‘What do your mama’s diamonds have to do with…’ then I broke off. ‘Have you lost them at play?’ I asked.

‘Pawned,’ he said gloomily. ‘I had to get them back, Sarah, or I’d have been really sunk. She keeps me on such a short allowance I can never manage to stay out of debt. And a little while ago I found the key to her strongbox. It was before the Season started and I knew she wouldn’t need them for months. So I prigged them, and pawned them.’

He paused gloomy for a moment, but then his face brightened. ‘And now I’ll be able to get them back!’ he said delightedly.

He glanced at my face. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’ he asked.

‘You’re a thief,’ I said. ‘A thief and a drunkard and a gambler.’

Perry looked contrite. ‘I did win, though,’ he offered.

‘I’m no better,’ I said. ‘I was a thief and a card-sharper and a horse-trader. You are what you have to be, Perry. But don’t ever steal from me again.’

His face brightened. ‘I’ll make a promise with you,’ he offered. ‘I will never steal from you again, I will never steal from Mama again, and I will never pawn anything of hers or yours again. It has been dreadful, Sarah, I thought I’d not be able to get them back and then she would have known!’