The Drop of the Dice (Will You Love Me in September?) (10 page)

After what seemed a long time to me, one was knocked down. The cheers shook the tent and a man came forward and held up the victor’s hand. He smiled at the crowd although there was blood on his forehead.

Now someone was calling out: ‘Place your bets,’ and Lance rose and joined the people about a man who was seated a table. Money was exchanged.

Then two men came out and began to fight. I found it all rather nauseating, but I could not take my eyes from Lance, who was clearly engrossed in what was taking place and seemed to have forgotten I was there. When the fight was over he shrugged his shoulders and when I suggested we leave he reluctantly rose and we did so.

‘You don’t care much for the sport of kings,’ he said.

‘I thought that was horse racing.’

‘It depends on the king… which he prefers, you see. I have not heard our noble George’s likes in the matter.’

‘What were you doing at the table? We had already paid to go in.’

‘I was placing my bet.’

‘Bet? What bet?’

‘On the winner. It was a little gamble.’

‘So you gambled on which one of those men would win?’

‘Yes… and on the wrong one.’

‘So you lost some money.’

‘Alas, I did.’

‘Oh dear, I hope not too much.’

‘Five pounds.’

I was aghast. It seemed a great deal of money to me. ‘Five pounds. That is terrible.’

‘Sweet Clarissa, to be so concerned. But think what would have happened if my man had won.’

‘You would have got a lot of money then, I suppose.’

‘Fifty perhaps… fifty for five. Think of it. Wouldn’t that have been wonderful?’

‘But you lost.’

‘Ah, but I might have won.’

I was silent. Then I said: ‘It was a great risk. And you lost.’

‘That’s what makes it exciting. If you knew you were going to win all the time where would be the thrill?’

‘It would be more thrilling surely to win all the time.’

‘You haven’t the gambler’s spirit, I can see.’

I did not answer. A faint cloud had settled over the outing. I had been so gloriously happy. Then I had seen the hiring stall and now Lance had lost five pounds. These two events shadowed my morning.

It was time in any case to return to the inn. I was surprised to see the man in the brown frieze coat was still there, for previously he had been making such a fuss about his horse being ready in time.

Within a short while we were on the road again.

I
LEFT GREAT-UNCLE CARL
and Lance Clavering in York, and only then did I realize how much I had enjoyed Lance’s company. His lively conversation had been so invigorating, and what I had liked most was to be treated like a grown-up person.

I had only the grooms as companions now for the remainder of the journey and as the weather continued good, and we were starting at dawn and riding till sunset we had only two nightly stops at inns which had been recommended.

We rode over moors and along by the sea. It thrilled and inspired me. This wild northern country was the home of my ancestors.

At length we came to Hessenfield Castle. It was not far from the coast—about a mile, I should say—and was a fine yellow stone edifice forming a quadrangle enclosing a court and finished at the four angles with tall square towers. At the corners of these towers were projecting octagonal turrets, machicolated and clearly intended for the convenience of archers who could drive their arrows down on an invading army.

The projecting gateway with its turret and battlemented gallery was most impressive, and above were the carved armorial bearings of the noble Field family whose title was that of Hessenfield. I looked at those mullioned windows and I felt a glow of pride because this was the home of my father’s family.

As we rode through the gateway grooms came running out to see who had arrived and as soon as they glimpsed me they guessed who I was, and I saw at once that I was going to be made very welcome.

‘His lordship said as we were to be on the look-out these last two days,’ said one of them. ‘I’ll take you to him without delay.’

I dismounted and my horse was taken from me by another groom, and two others came out to look after my guards and the saddle-bags.

As I entered the castle I was immediately aware of its grandeur. I was accustomed to Eversleigh Court, which was a magnificent mansion; Enderby was a fine old house; but this was a castle. It owed its existence to the Normans—Eversleigh was Elizabethan and therefore comparatively modern. I was immediately struck by the thick stone walls, and the spiral staircases with rope banisters in that part of the castle which was like a fortress. We emerged into the great hall—far bigger than the one at Eversleigh; on the stone walls hung weapons from another age; and when I looked up at the high vaulted roof I saw the minstrels’ gallery and was reminded of Enderby.

‘His lordship is in his sitting-room,’ said the groom. ‘I will let him know you are here.’

In a short while I was taken up a wide staircase, through a gallery hung with portraits. I took a quick look. All the men and women seemed very much alike. My father, I guessed, must be among them, but there was no time to search for him. The servant was hurrying me on.

We went through the gallery and were in a long corridor. Here there were carpets on the floor which gave a more modern touch to the place. Comfort prevailed over antiquity.

The servant knocked on a door and I was advancing into a room. It was not a large room but there was an air of extreme comfort there. The heavy blue curtains at the mullioned windows matched the blue of the carpet; there was a fire burning in the large grate and seated in a chair was a man with a rug over his knees. On the chair opposite him was a young woman.

The man spoke at once but did not rise.

‘You are Clarissa,’ he said. ‘At last you have come. I thought you would never arrive.’

I went towards him quickly and he took my hand. I realized then that he was an invalid.

‘Forgive my not rising,’ he said. ‘The plain fact is that I can’t. I have to live my life in this chair. Aimée, my dear, come and greet Clarissa.’

The young woman had risen. She was only a few years older than I… perhaps eighteen, I guessed. She was beautifully dressed in a gown of deep green velvet cut away in front to show a grey silk petticoat.

She took my hand and smiled at me. Her look was searching. I was sure she noticed how untidy my hair was and that my hands were red from the cold.

‘You will be tired and want to rest,’ said my uncle. ‘You will want to wash, perhaps, and change and then eat. Something warm, eh? I was not sure what you would want to do first but I was so anxious to see you as soon as you arrived. Now say… which is it to be? Would you like to wash first? In the kitchens they will be preparing something good to eat. And we can get to know each other over a meal.’

‘It is so good to see you…’ I began.

‘Uncle,’ he said. ‘I’m your Uncle Paul. Your father was my eldest brother. I knew of your existence but only just became aware of where you were. I wanted so much to see you. Now say what you would wish to do first.’

Because I was aware of the elegant appearance of the girl called Aimée I said I would like to wash and change. I could wait for food to be served for everyone. We had eaten cold bacon with bread and cheese at an inn shortly before we reached the castle.

‘Then Aimee will take you to your room. You can explain to Clarissa who you are, Aimée. You two are going to have a great deal in common. When you are ready you and I will have a long talk, too. But first things first. I know how you ladies feel after a long journey and our climate up here is less benign than yours in the south.’

I thought he was charming. He resembled my father slightly but the first thing that always struck one about Hessenfield was his towering height. To see his brother, my Uncle Paul, in a chair had been a great surprise to me.

Aimée flashed a smile at me. ‘I am so glad you have come,’ she said. ‘You can’t imagine how we’ve been longing to see you. Come along. Let’s get you comfortable and then we can talk.’

She led me out of the room and we seemed to go through a maze of corridors and up several staircases until we came to a room in one of the turrets. I went to the narrow window. I could see for miles over the moorland and in the distance the sea.

Aimée came and stood beside me. She smelt faintly of some perfume—rather musky and vaguely seductive. I glanced at her. She had dark—almost black—hair and beautiful long dark brown eyes with black lashes. Her skin was pale, her lips faintly carmined. I did not know then that she augmented her beauty with certain aids. I found her rather fascinating in a slightly disturbing way and I was very curious to know who she was and whether she was related to me.

‘Uncle Paul selected this room for you,’ she said. ‘He thought you would like the view.’ I noticed that she had a slightly French accent and intonation which added to her exotic aura. ‘The wind screeches across the moors when it blows from the east. Ugh.’ She shivered. ‘It creeps into the castle,’ she went on,’ and then it is so difficult to keep warm. It is very cold… here in the north.’ I noticed how she stressed her r’s, and was reminded of Jeanne.

‘Tell me,’ I said, ‘are you my cousin… or are we related in some other way?’

She came a step nearer to me and regarded me with something like amusement.

‘Not cousin,’ she said. ‘Closer… much closer… Can you guess?’

‘No,’ I said and began to wonder whether Uncle Paul had married a young wife.

Her next words so startled me that I thought I must be dreaming. ‘We are sisters,’ she said.

‘Sisters! But… how…’

She was smiling. ‘How do you call it?
Demi-soeur.
What I tell you is this. Your father… he was my father too.’

‘Hessenfield!’

‘Ah, yes,’ she said with a great effort to pronounce the H, ‘Yes, Hessenfield.’

‘But how…?’

‘Very simple. In the usual way. You understand?’

I flushed and she went on, ‘Ah, I see you do. Our father was a very loving man. He loved my mother… very much. He loved me too… very much. He was a very loving man.’

‘You mean you are his illegitimate daughter?’

‘It is an honour we both share. He was never married to your mother… nor to mine. Your mother was married already. Mine…’ She lifted her shoulders in an entirely Gallic gesture. ‘Well, he was not a man to marry. But we came… you and I… all the same. We are
bâtards,
eh?
Bâtards
who share the same loving father.’

‘My sister,’ I murmured.

She put her hands on my shoulders and, drawing me to her, kissed me on both cheeks. I was conscious of a certain revulsion. My mother had been known as Lady Hessenfield; she had lived with my father in his
hôtel
and all the time there had been this girl who must be some four or five years older than I. Perhaps that explained it. He had known her mother before he had known mine.

I was learning. The King had brought his German mistresses with him. Hessenfield had been like a king; he had had mistresses. My mother had been one of them; Aimée’s mother another.

‘Well,’ she went on, ‘how does it feel to find you have a sister?’

‘It is so unexpected, of course. But it is exciting.’

‘You thought you were the only one, didn’t you?’ she said rather slyly.

‘I was led to believe it.’

‘Not with a man like my Lord.’

‘How long have you been here?’

‘About a year. I could not come before the Peace. It was not easy for us… in Paris. And then I thought I should come here, for after all… it was my home. This was where my father meant to bring me when he had put King James on the throne. He always said so to my mother. He used to. say: ‘When this is completed, we will go home to Hessenfield Castle.’”

‘And you knew of me?’

‘Oh yes, we knew of you.’

‘And you knew that my Aunt Damaris had brought me to England?’

‘No.’

‘Then how did my uncle… our uncle… know where to send for me?’

‘He has ways of finding out. Perhaps he will tell you.’

I said: ‘It is all such a surprise for me. I shall need time to get used to it.’-

‘You will. I find it good… amusing. We shall have much to share.’

‘There is a lot I want to know. Did you just come here and tell my uncle who you were?’

‘Are you thinking that I might not be saying the truth?’ She looked angry suddenly. ‘I am as much his daughter as you are.’

‘No, no. You mistake me. I merely wondered how you came here and what did our uncle think when he met you so suddenly.’

‘I had proof.’ She spoke vehemently, and then she smiled. ‘Ah, I could prove who I was. I had his signet ring. The ring worn by all the holders of the title. I brought it back to our uncle who now wears it on the third finger of his right hand. Our father wore it on his little finger.’

I nodded. I remembered that ring. It was gold, with a stone called bezoar. I could hear his voice then, telling me this when I had shown interest in it.

‘Our father was a big man. The ring just fitted his little finger. I brought his watch too, and there was the letter: These things I brought because they were given to my mother by Lord Hessenfield in case something should happen to him. He loved well his daughters, did our father. He wanted us to be taken care of. That was what he always said. He wanted
me
taken care of as well as you.’

A maid came in with cans of hot water and Aimée said she would leave me to wash. Then if I would pull the bell-rope it would tell them in the kitchen that I was ready to be taken to my uncle. We could then talk together until dinner was served.

I felt in a daze as I washed the grime of the journey from my hands and face. My saddle-bags were brought up and I was glad to get out of my riding clothes and into a red dress which I felt was rather becoming. I wanted to look my best so that I might not compare too unfavourably with Aimée.

When I was ready I rang the bell as I had been told to, and was conducted back to the room where my uncle was impatiently awaiting my coming.

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘now you are ready.’