The Drop of the Dice

MENACE IN THE FOREST

LANCE WAS VERY INTERESTED to hear that I had found the bezoar ring and that the jeweller’s story had confirmed the fact that Jeanne had sold them and gone to France.

‘She should have waited until she got over there,’ said Lance. ‘She might have been caught disposing of them in London. But I suppose she didn’t like carrying them on her person. Although of course the money would be equally tempting to a thief. Anyway, I’m glad you have your ring back.’

‘I’m delighted to have found it. It’s rather a special one, having been in the Hessenfield family for generations. Our baby shall have it.’

‘It will be a long time before he can wear it,’ said Lance.

‘She shall have it in good time,’ I retorted.

Lance laughed. ‘All right, darling,’ he said, ‘I shan’t grudge you your girl any more than you will grudge me my boy. I bet if it is a girl it will turn out to be exactly what I want, and if a boy, just your desire.’

‘That is the sort of bet you can always make with certainty,’ I said.

I was indeed happy during those early days of my pregnancy. It was only now and then when I thought of Jeanne that the shadow would fall; and every time I looked at the bezoar ring I imagined her going boldly into that shop with the tale she had prepared about hurrying to France and needing the money urgently.

Sabrina was not sure whether she wanted a baby or not. Sometimes she talked about it excitedly and what she would do when it came. She would teach it to ride and tell it the stories I used to tell her, she decided.

‘It will be a long time before the baby is able to ride,’ I warned her.

‘Oh, you can’t start too young,’ said Sabrina with an air of wisdom.

Then at times she was jealous of it. ‘I believe you like this baby more than you like me. And it’s not here yet.’

‘I love you both.’

‘But you can’t love two people the same.’

‘Oh yes you can.’

‘No. You have to love one more and this one is your own.’

‘So are you, Sabrina.’

‘But I wasn’t born yours.’

‘It makes no difference.’

‘I wish this one wasn’t coming. I know it will be silly… sillier than Jean-Louis.’

‘He’s not silly.’

‘And I don’t like her, either.’

‘Who is that?’

‘His grandmother. I don’t like her.’

‘I thought you liked to listen to her.’

‘Not any more.’ She brought her face close to mine. ‘I don’t like her because she doesn’t like me.’

‘Of course she likes you.’

‘And she doesn’t like the new one either.’

‘You’re not telling the truth, Sabrina.’

‘It is the truth. I know it.’

‘She didn’t say so.’

‘She looks it. I don’t like her. I don’t like Aimée and I don’t like Jean-Louis.’

‘Oh, you are in a disliking mood.’

‘Uncle Lance likes Aimée, though.’

‘Of course he does. We all do… except you, of course.’

‘He likes her… kind of special.’ She hunched her shoulders and looked mysterious.

‘Who told you?’

‘I saw them.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I saw them talking.’

‘Why shouldn’t they talk?’

‘I saw them. I knew. He likes her and she likes him… a lot.’

It was silly to listen to Sabrina. She told wild stories, and if she saw that she had caught my attention her stories would become wilder. All she was doing was calling attention to herself, for she had an idea that now the baby was coming she was being set aside.

I tried to be extra loving to her. She responded, but the suspicious jealousy was there, and I felt it growing.

After the first two months of pregnancy I began to feel quite ill. Aimée soothed me. It had been the same with her, she told me. She had been wretchedly ill during the first months. But it passed. What was that tisane Jeanne had made? She thought she remembered. She would ask her mother, for she was sure she would know. She believed it was a well-known remedy in France for morning sickness.

Madame Legrand was only too delighted to make the tisane. She wasn’t sure that it was the same as Jeanne’s, but there was a recipe in her family which had been handed down for generations, and if she could lay her hands on the right herbs she would make it for me.

She did, and I felt worse after it. I thought it didn’t agree with me.

‘That can’t be,’ said Aimée. ‘It often makes you worse for a time and then it cures you. You see.’

Madame Legrand was disappointed. She had believed it to be a certain remedy. She immediately prepared another, and I felt considerably better after taking it.

‘I think we have hit on the right thing,’ said Madame Legrand. ‘The first one was too strong.’

Lance was deeply concerned. ‘You’ll have to rest more, Clarissa,’ he said. There’s no help for it.’

I did not ride but I did like walking. Lance said we should go to the country, which would be so much better for me. I supposed it would be, but I missed my walks through the teeming streets of London.

However, we went to the country, and Lance said he thought I should stay there until the child was born. He would have to be in London some of the time, of course, but he would accompany me and stay with me for a few weeks.

So we went to the country. Madame Legrand declared herself delighted with Clavering Hall.

‘It is beautiful,’ she said. ‘The old English country house! Never would I wish to leave it.’

‘You’re welcome to stay as long as you like,’ Lance told her in his generous way.

‘Your husband is a reckless man,’ she told me with a smile. ‘Listen to what he say to me! Why, you might be hating me in a few months’ time.’

‘I am sure, Madame Legrand, I could never hate you, however much I tried,’ said Lance.

‘Oh, he is a charmer,’ she replied.

I did not feel any better in the country, in spite of the tisanes which Madame Legrand continued to make for me.

I remember one occasion when Sabrina was with me. She used to come and sit on my bed when I felt it necessary to be there.

‘You see what a lot of trouble this baby is causing,’ she said. ‘You have to rest in bed because of it. You never had to rest in bed because of me.’

‘Oh dear, Sabrina,’ I replied, ‘don’t be jealous of this little baby. You’re going to love it as much as I do when it comes.’

‘I am going to hate it,’ she told me cheerfully.

One of the servants brought in the tisane on a tray and as soon as we were alone Sabrina picked it up and sipped it.

‘Ooo, it’s nasty. Why are things to do you good always nasty?’

‘Perhaps we imagine they’re nasty.’

Sabrina pondered that. ‘Nice things do you good sometimes. You’re wearing your ring. That’s the one Jeanne stole. It’s rather a funny ring. It belonged to a Queen.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Granny Priscilla told me about it. Kings and Queens had them because people were trying to poison them and if you put the ring in the drink the poison goes into the ring.’

‘Something like that.’

She had the ring from my finger, and with a laugh dropped it into the tisane.

‘Let’s see what happens,’ she said.

‘Nothing will happen. That was not poison.’

Sabrina’s eyes grew round. ‘Suppose it was? Then we’d see it go into the ring.’

She held it up to the light. ‘I can’t see anything,’ she said.

Nanny Curlew came in. ‘Time for bed, Miss Sabrina. What are you doing?’

‘She’s testing my ring, Nanny. My bezoar ring.’

‘Whatever next!’

‘I can see it going in!’ cried Sabrina.

‘What nonsense! You can’t see anything.’

‘I can. I can.’

I took it from her. The ring and the liquid were quite unchanged. I picked out the ring. ‘Now it’s wet,’ I said, ‘and I really don’t fancy drinking that now.’

‘I’ll get another one made for you, my lady,’ said Nanny Curlew.’

‘Oh thanks,’ I said.

Sabrina put her arms round my neck. ‘Don’t get killed,’ she begged.

I laughed. ‘Dear Sabrina, I have no intention of doing so.’

Nanny Curlew brought a towel and wiped the ring which I slipped on to my finger, and Sabrina went off with her.

A little while later Madame Legrand came into the room with another tisane.

‘Nanny Curlew explained,’ she said. ‘She tells me Mademoiselle Sabrina have too much imagination. She look for poison with your ring in the tisane.’

I laughed. ‘Sabrina likes drama.’

‘And to be the centre of it, eh? I know that one.’

I had noticed that one of the young men who came to Lance’s gambling parties was interested in Aimée. Not that other men had not been, but with Eddy Moreton it was different. He was a tall, rather gangling young man with very fair hair, pale blue eyes, a rather prominent nose and a weak chin. He was an inveterate gambler and I heard that he had once won fifty thousand pounds in one night at the gambling tables in one of the London clubs and lost it before the week was out. He was the younger son of a rich father, but he had quickly got through his inheritance and the rest of the family frowned on his activities. All the same he was a likeable person, always good-natured, happy-go-lucky and always ready to take a gamble.

I mentioned him to Aimée, for I had always thought it would be a good idea for her to settle down and marry. She was young, attractive, and she needed someone who would be a father to Jean-Louis.

‘I like Eddy,’ she said, ‘but he has nothing but his winnings. If I had had your luck with the Bubble, I wouldn’t have to consider these things. As it is… what would we live on?’

‘I believe he is fond of you and if you loved him…’

‘You can’t live on love, sister.’

All the same I think she liked Eddy. She certainly led him to believe she did.

He came to dine with us in the country. This was significant, because during dinner the conversation turned to my bezoar ring.

I think it was Madame Legrand who brought it up. She was always present at our dinner parties and sometimes would join the players. Lance had told me that she had good luck. ‘It might have been beginners’ luck,’ he added, ‘for she had not played very much before.’

They were talking about the past and somehow the subject of the Borgias came up.

‘It was easy in the old days,’ said Eddy, ‘if you wanted to get rid of people you didn’t want around. You asked them to dine and… hey presto!… they partook of the delicious dish of—what shall we say? Lampreys? Sucking-pig? It didn’t matter which, for that took care of them. Those people developed poison to a fine art. No taste. No smell. Nothing suspicious, therefore.’

‘It is why they had the bezoar rings,’ put in Madame Legrand. ‘Clarissa has one. Do you wear it today, Clarissa? You do. Oh, then you are safe.’

Everyone laughed.

‘You know what it is?’ I said. ‘It’s formed in the stomachs of certain animals. It absorbs poison. That’s why Queen Elizabeth had one. Quite a number of monarchs had them in the past.’

Everyone was enormously interested, and the ring was passed round the table.

‘It was stolen by that unscrupulous maid of Clarissa’s,’ said Lance. ‘She found it by a miracle. Tell them about it, Clarissa.’

So I told how I had seen the ring in a shop window.

‘A chance in a million,’ said Eddy, awestruck.

‘What a pity that you did not bet on my finding it!’ I said.

They laughed and the ring was handed back to me.

The tables were set up in the usual manner and after seeing them all settled I went upstairs. Madame Legrand accompanied me.

‘They will play into the early hours of the morning,’ she said. ‘I wish that Aimée had not such a taste for this gambling.’

‘It’s a pity,’ I agreed. ‘They win, then they lose. It all seems such a waste of time.’

‘And dear Lance, he has this love of the gamble, has he not?’

I nodded ruefully, and she lifted her shoulders, kissed me and said good night.

Lance came up eventually. I was half-asleep. He came in, went to the dressing-table and went out again. Now I was fully awake, wondering what this meant.

Shortly afterwards he came back.

He was in a rather sober mood so I guessed that his losses must have been great to have that effect on him.

‘Is everything all right, Lance?’ I asked.”

He was silent for a few moments and I sat up in bed to look at him more closely.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘Just a bit of bad luck. I think we drank too much wine at dinner… and we were drinking afterwards. Drink makes you do foolish things.’

‘Have your losses been so great then? Tell me. What have you lost?’

‘Let me explain,’ he said. ‘I want you to see it as it happened. We were all very merry… as I said, the wine… and we played poker. The stakes were getting rather high when Eddy said he was finished. He could bet no more for if he lost he would be so deeply in debt that he would never get out of it.’

‘It seems he has come to his senses at last.’

‘No. He couldn’t bear to stop so he staked the diamond pin in his cravat. I won it. He was wearing a signet ring with the family’s crest engraved on it. Heavy solid gold, of some value. He wanted to throw it against some possession of mine and suddenly he said, “That ring we saw at dinner. That’s what I want. We’ll play for that.” I said, “No. That’s Clarissa’s ring.” He shouted: “What’s hers is yours. Come on, I want to play for the bezoar ring.” I told him the bezoar ring was priceless. I said. “It’s worth more than your signet ring, Eddy, and you know it.”

‘He said: “All right. My country house for the bezoar ring.” Everyone had become excited because of the unusual stakes. We were urged on. Someone said Eddy was crazy. A house for a ring! Aimée was sitting beside Eddy urging him on. She loves a gamble, that girl…’

Lance’s eyes were shining, the excitement still with him.

‘So you gambled with my ring,’ I said.

‘Yes,’ he answered soberly.

‘And you lost.’

He was silent.

‘Lance,’ I cried, ‘are you telling me that my bezoar ring has gone to Eddy Moreton!’

He looked shamefaced. ‘I’ll get it back,’ he said.

It was rarely that I was angry with Lance, but I was then. I had always deplored his reckless gambling but that he should have risked something which was mine filled me with rage. I was as furious as I had been on that occasion when he had used my money to buy shares in the South Sea Company without consulting me. I was tired, and this was the last straw.

‘How dare you!’ I cried. ‘It’s tantamount to stealing. What right have you? Risk your own goods if you want to be so foolish… but leave mine alone.’

‘I will find another ring, I promise you. I will get you that one back. Clarissa, I’m sorry. It was wrong of me. But you must try to imagine what it was like down there. The excitement of it… the different type of bet. It was momentarily… irresistible.’

‘It’s despicable,’ I said.

‘Oh, Clarissa,’ he murmured. He came to the bed and tried to put his arms about me. I pushed him aside.

‘I am tired of your incessant gambling,’ I said. ‘I don’t know anything about your affairs but it wouldn’t surprise me if they’re in a bad state. You are so foolish… like a child who can’t say no, even when it comes to taking what is not yours. I do not forget what you did with my money in the South Sea Company.’

‘And look what I made for you.’

‘You did not make it. I made it by my good sense in putting an end to the gamble. I forgave you that, but this is too much. The ring was my special property.’

‘You did not seem to care so much when you lost it before.’

‘I cared deeply.’

‘That was because Jeanne stole it.’

‘You are as bad as Jeanne. You have stolen it, too. I see no difference in you. She at least had the sense to steal it for a sensible purpose. You… just to satisfy your lust for gambling.’

‘Clarissa, I swear I’ll get it back.’

‘Yes,’ I retorted. ‘Stake the house against it… all you possess. You might lose that too. Stake me, perhaps. Please go away now. I’m tired and I want to be alone.’

He tried once more to cajole me, sitting on the bed, looking at me with wistful appeal, bringing out all his considerable charm, but I wanted him to know how deeply upset I was, and that I no longer accepted this gambling when he so wantonly risked what was mine. I could not and would not forgive him for taking my bezoar ring.

Lance had always hated trouble and escaped from it as soon as possible, and when he saw that I was adamant, he did that now.

He sadly rose from the bed and opened the door of the powder closet. He would go there and spend the night on that uncomfortable couch, hoping that I would soften towards him.

I stayed in bed next day for I was feeling unwell. My condition, together with last night’s shock, had upset me so much that I felt too ill to get up. Moreover, I wanted to shut myself away, to consider Lance and my feelings for him.

I loved him in a way. His charm was undeniable. He was always gracious and kind, and very popular in society, and there had been many an occasion when I had felt proud to be his wife. And yet sometimes, and this was particularly when the gambling fever was on him, I felt I did not know him. I thought of Elvira. How deeply did his feelings ever go? He must have been fond of her, albeit in a light-hearted way. Why had he not married her? I suppose because she would not have been a suitable wife, so their relationship had been a casual one. I was a suitable wife. Why? Because I came from a good family background, or because I had a fortune? Had that been the reason?

I was thinking now of Dickon. Our relationship had been strong and firm in spite of the fact that everything was against it. It had been young and innocent and beautiful even though the feud between our families was as fierce as that between the Montagues and Capulets. I wandered back to the old familiar theme; what would have happened to us if Dickon had not been sent away; and I dreamed of an ideal.

It was then that I felt that life had cheated me.

Sabrina came to see me. She was always uneasy when I was not well. It was touching to see how much I meant to her. I believe I stood for security and that was what Sabrina, in common with most children, wanted most in life.

She climbed on to the bed and studied me closely.

‘You’re ill,’ she said. ‘It’s that silly baby.’

‘People often feel slightly less well when they are going to have babies.’

‘Silly to have them, then,’ she said scornfully.

She studied me again. ‘You look a bit angry, too,’ she commented.

‘I’m not angry.’

‘You look sad and angry and ill.’

‘Whatever else you are, Sabrina,’ I said, ‘you’re frank. I’m all right, though.’

She said: ‘I don’t want you to die.’

‘Die? Who says I’m going to die?’

‘Nobody says it. They only think it.’

‘What on earth do you mean?’

She put her arms round my neck and held me tightly. ‘Let’s go away from here. You and me… We can take the little baby with us. I’ll look after it. I’d like there to be just the three of us. No Aimée. No Jean-Louis. No her.’

‘And no Lance?’ I asked.

‘Oh, he’d rather stay with them… now.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He likes her, you know.’

‘Who?’

‘Aimée,’ she replied with conviction. ‘He likes her better than you.’

‘I don’t think he does.’

She nodded vigorously.

One of the servants came in with a dish of chocolate. It was steaming hot and smelt delicious.

Sabrina looked at it suspiciously. ‘Where is the ring?’ she asked.

‘The ring?’

‘Your bezoar ring.’

‘I haven’t got it any more,’ I told her.

‘Has it been… stolen again?’

‘In a way.’

Her eyes were round, and on impulse I said: ‘Lance gambled with it and lost it.’

‘It’s yours,’ she cried. ‘It’s wicked to take it.’ I was silent and she suddenly clung to me, her eyes round as saucers.

‘Oh Clarissa,’ she said fiercely, ‘you mustn’t die. You mustn’t.’

‘What are you talking about? You are a funny girl, Sabrina.’

‘I don’t know,’ she said in a small voice. ‘I know I’m frightened… a bit.’

I held her tightly to me for a moment. Then I said: ‘What about a game of I Spy?’

‘All right,’ she answered, brightening.

As we played I thought what a strange child she was, and how dear to me, as I knew I was to her. There was an intimacy between us. It had been there from her birth. She was more than a cousin; she was like my own child. I loved her dearly. I loved her strangeness, her waywardness, her love of the dramatic and what seemed like a determination to create it when it was not there—all that made up Sabrina.

Sabrina was now caught up in an intrigue of her own imagining, and it concerned Lance, Aimée and myself.

It was difficult for me to know how much to suspect, or how much had been planted in my mind by my own observations or by Sabrina’s suggestions.

Sabrina wanted me to herself. She was ready to accept the new baby but she wanted us to be alone. She resented the others, and now Lance more than any. She saw him as the real barrier, and with characteristic determination she was doing her best to remove that barrier.

She had made up her mind that Aimée and Lance were the enemies and that Madame Legrand was their ally. In her mind, she, with myself, stood against them. As Lance was my husband she thought there should be another woman, for she was very knowledgeable about such matters, having listened avidly to servants’ gossip. Sometimes I wondered whether the servants were gossiping about Lance and Aimée.

Eddy Moreton was still paying attention to Aimée. He had a small house not far from Clavering Hall. His family’s ancestral home was in the Midlands but he hadn’t a chance of inheriting that. Aimée did not exactly encourage him. I think my sister was far too practical to enter into a marriage which would bring her no financial advantage.

Sabrina watched them cautiously. I wondered whether anyone would notice her absorption, but the manner in which she sought to protect me was touching.

Sometimes in life there appears to be a special bond between people; it is almost as though their lives are entwined and therefore they are of the utmost significance to each other. I often thought of that afterwards.

She was now having a deep effect on me. She was sowing seeds of suspicion in my mind. She was creating in me an atmosphere which I told myself had grown entirely out of her imagination, and yet at the same time I was not sure that this was so. Sometimes I wondered whether she had an extra sense; at others I dismissed her insinuations as childish nonsense. She was possessive and she wanted me for herself; moreover, she had an insatiable desire for drama. Her great interest now was to protect me from some impending evil, and whether she actually sensed it or built it up out of jealousy of Lance, I could not be sure.

I often thought of the bezoar ring and I wondered if it had more magical qualities than those assigned to it. Through it I had learned of Jeanne’s frailty, and I would have sworn her loyalty was unshakeable and perhaps the most important emotion in her life. And through it the fact that Lance would stop at nothing in his mad passion for gambling had shown itself.

Sabrina’s study of Lance and Aimée was becoming noticeable. She was very watchful. I was sure they would notice and I told her so.

She said cryptically, ‘I have to watch them. How would I know what they will be doing next if I didn’t?’

She was firmly convinced that Lance and Aimée were lovers. There had been a case in the village when one of the farm labourers had come home suddenly and caught his wife in bed with another man—one of his fellow workers. He had strangled him and later been hanged for murder. Everyone talked of it for weeks, and Sabrina, of course, listened with the utmost interest.

One day when she was sitting by my bed, because I had stayed there, having felt ill in the morning, she narrowed her eyes and said: ‘Perhaps you are being poisoned.’

‘My dear Sabrina, what notions you get! Who would want to poison me?’

‘Some,’ she said darkly. ‘They put things in people’s food.’

‘Who?’

‘People who want to get rid of someone. The Borgias were always doing it.’

‘But we have no Borgias in this house, darling.’

‘It’s not only them. Other people do it too. Kings and Queens used to have tasters, just to make sure their food wasn’t going to poison them.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘It comes in history. You ought to have a taster. I’ll be your taster.’

‘Then if there was poison, you’d take it.’

‘I’d save you, and that is what tasters are for.’

‘Dear Sabrina, it is sweet of you, but really I don’t think I need a taster.’

‘You’re going to have one,’ she said firmly.

That evening when my meal was served she insisted on being with me and tasted everything before I ate it. She enjoyed it, being rather fond of food.

My tisane came up and when one of the servants brought it to my bed, Sabrina looked at it suspiciously.

‘Do you remember how we used to put the ring in it?’ she asked.

‘You did,’ I reminded her.

Her eyes grew round with horror. ‘You haven’t got the ring any more. Perhaps they took it away from you because… because…’

‘Sabrina, my ring was lost in a gamble.’

She narrowed her eyes. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she said. ‘It was stolen because it was taking the poison out of your food.’

She picked up the tisane and took a gulp. She grimaced. I went to take it from her and in doing so it was spilt over the counterpane.

I laughed at her. ‘Oh, Sabrina,’ I said, ‘I do love you.’

She flung her arms about me.

‘I’m going to keep you,’ she told me. ‘We’re going to catch the murderers and they’ll be hanged like poor old George Carey who was hanged because he killed his wife’s lover. I wouldn’t have hanged him, but I would anyone who hurt you.’

‘Dearest Sabrina, always remember that there is a special bond between you and me. Promise me you’ll never forget that, and won’t be jealous if there is someone else I love besides you.’

‘I’ll remember, but I might be jealous.’

This ten-year-old girl was half child, half woman; at times she seemed merely her age and at others much wiser than she could possibly be. She was passionately interested in everything that went on around her. She listened unashamedly at doors; she watched people, and followed them; the role of spy-protector was one after her own heart. Once she said she saw Lance and Aimée kissing and when I pressed her admitted that they had just stood close together talking. If anything did not happen as she wanted it to, she tried to make it do so, and sometimes imagined it had. She did not exactly set out to tell lies, but her imagination ran away with her. When I said that she must not say they had been kissing if they had not been, she replied: ‘Well, they might have been when I wasn’t looking.’ That was her reasoning. She was obsessed by the idea of saving my life.

So when next day she was ill, I was not sure whether the illness was… well, not exactly faked, but whether her strong imagination had willed her into sickness because she so wanted to prove her point about the tisane.

I went up to see her at once. She was lying very still, her eyes raised to the ceiling. I was concerned as I knelt by the bed; then I saw the smile of satisfaction steal across her face.

‘Sabrina,’ I whispered, ‘you’re pretending.’

‘I did feel sick,’ she said. ‘I had cramping stomach pains.’

She had heard that was a symptom of poisoning, I realized at once. ‘Where?’ I asked.

She hesitated for a moment and then placed her hands on her stomach.

‘Sabrina,’ I said, ‘are you sure you didn’t imagine it?’

She shook her head vigorously. ‘It’s what happens to tasters,’ she whispered. Her eyes grew round with excitement. ‘Last night I tasted the tisane,’ she said. ‘Just one sip was enough.’ She threw up her hands dramatically.

I pretended to laugh, but a terrible uneasiness persisted. ‘You’re romancing,’ I said.

‘I’d die for you, Clarissa,’ she said fiercely.

‘No you won’t,’ I retorted sharply. ‘You’re going to live for me.’

‘Oh, all right,’ she said almost grudgingly.

‘Now what about getting dressed and coming for a stroll in the wood? Be ready in half an hour.’

‘Can I have my breakfast first? I’m starving.’

I laughed and, bending, kissed her.

We walked through the woods to the dene hole.

‘Do be careful, Sabrina,’ I said. ‘If ever you come to the woods alone, don’t go too near.’

‘All right. I won’t. I don’t care about the old dene hole now, anyway.’

I could see that she thought our domestic drama was far more interesting than the dene hole.

A few days later I was seated in the garden on the wooden seat close to the shrubbery when Sabrina came out and sat beside me. She looked both secretive and triumphant so that I knew something she considered important had happened.

‘Well?’ I asked.

‘I’ve found something. I think it could be an important clue.’

‘Well, tell me:’

‘You’ll think I was wrong to do this. Promise you won’t.’

‘How can I, until I know what it is?’

‘I’ve been watching them…’

‘Who?’

‘Oh, you know. Lance and Aimée. I’ll catch them, then we’ll know for sure. But this is even better. Her door was open when I went past, so I looked in. She was sitting at her dressing-table and I saw her take something out of a drawer. She kept looking at it and I wondered what it was.’

‘You were a long time passing,’ I said. ‘How did you manage to see so much!’

‘Well, I stopped a little while.’

‘And spied on her.’

‘I am a sort of spy. That’s my job. I discover things. But you wait and see what I’ve found. I waited until she had gone out and then I went to her room. I saw where she had put this thing she was looking at. You know the secret drawer? You have to take out one drawer and there’s another drawer behind it. That is where she had put it… in the secret drawer, so it must have been a secret. So I went in and found… guess.’

‘You tell me.’

She put her hand in her pocket and when she withdrew it she was holding something in the palm of her hand. It was the bezoar ring.

I was so startled to see it that I gasped. She watched me with satisfaction.

‘He gave it to her. He gave her your ring.’

‘No… he lost it at the tables.’

‘That was what he told you.’ Sabrina spoke scornfully. ‘She wanted it. She said, “Get me the bezoar ring and I’ll be yours.” So he just gave it to her.’

I shook my head, but of course I half believed what she was telling.

I sat staring at the ring. I was wretchedly unhappy, for I felt in that moment that there was more than a pinch of reality in Sabrina’s wild imaginings.

She was watching me intently. ‘They took it away,’ she said darkly, ‘because it was taking the poison out of the tisane

I laughed a little unconvincingly. I didn’t want her to know that I was worried. I think that at times Sabrina herself did not believe in these accusations. It was a game to her, like charades and I Spy. She had always loved treasure hunts and games of detection.

‘You won’t need a taster now,’ she said. ‘You have the ring.’

I said thoughtfully: ‘I think the best thing you can do is take it back and put it where you found it.’

She was astounded and I went on slowly, playing her game: ‘It is best for them not to know that we know where it is.’

She nodded darkly.

I sat still, watching her speed across the grass to the house.

Was it possible? I asked myself. Was he in love with my sister? It was feasible enough. She was attractive and she shared that all-consuming passion. They were together a great deal. She was often invited to accompany him to gambling parties. I was left out because people knew I did not care to play. How often had I heard them laughing together or growing excited as they discussed the manner of some past play.

Was it so absurd? Was I wilfully blind to what was happening about me? Did I need the awareness and the possessive love of a child to make the picture clear to me?

After that I seemed to become conscious of a certain menace all about me. At times I thought it must be due to my condition. Women had strange fancies at such times. Sabrina had planted suspicion in my mind and it grew.

There was Lance. What did I know of Lance? He was in a way a secret person and this was all the more alarming because he showed no signs of secrecy. He appeared to be light-hearted in all ways, reckless, even careless, but always kind… avoiding trouble or any form of unpleasantness. How could he be capable of intrigue, of plots to be rid of me—for that was what it amounted to. I looked for motive. He had been both passionate and tender, a lover and a friend; but I had always known that his real passion was for gambling, and it had made a barrier between us. I had made it clear that I thought his gambling foolish; and there was Aimée, pretty enough and very elegant, with a love of gambling which almost equalled his own. They were together a great deal. There was one other dark thought. I guessed that there were debts and they might be enormous ones. He was constantly staving off his creditors. If I died, my fortune would be his… except the Hessenfield inheritance which had so rapidly increased at the time of the South Sea Bubble. But Aimée would have that because my money was to go to her and hers to me in the event of either one of us dying.

So there was a motive.

I wondered about the extent of Lance’s debts, but he would never tell me. He would always shrug the matter aside if I raised it, as though debt were a natural sequence in the life of a gentleman. Then it occurred to me that he might be in dire financial straits in which case my death would be a necessity to him for it would give him escape from his creditors and, at the same time, Aimée, if it were true he was in love with her. How could I be sure? He was charming to her, but he was charming to everyone and it was his nature to pretend that people were of the greatest importance to him. My death might even have meant to him escape from a debtors’ prison… and marriage with Aimée.

No, I could not believe it. There were times when my doubts seemed to have grown out of wildest imaginings and to be quite absurd.

Oh Sabrina, I thought, I am as bad as you are!

I found a certain pleasure in escaping to the woods which I loved. I found them enchanting, and different every day. I liked to watch the leaves change and to listen to the birds’ song. There was peace there and when I was among the trees everything seemed natural and normal, and my doubts faded away.

Of course, I would say to myself, it must have been Eddy who gave the bezoar ring to Aimée. She had been intrigued by it from the time she had first seen it and knowing how I felt about it she did not want me to know that it was in her possession. She probably felt she ought to hand it back to me and I could understand that she wanted it for herself. As for the suggestion that she and Lance were lovers, it was too ridiculous to stand up to credulity. He was my devoted husband; and I did not believe that he had ever been unfaithful to me either in thought or deed.

So I went to the woods in the late afternoon of each day; that was when Sabrina was having her riding lesson, and it was something she would not willingly give up. She was learning to jump now and was very excited about it.

I had returned from the woods that afternoon and was resting, as was my custom, when I heard Madame Legrand in the corridor outside my room talking excitedly to Aimée.

I rose and looked out.

‘Has something happened?’ I asked.

‘Oh dear,’ said Madame Legrand raising her hands and looking extremely annoyed with herself. ‘Now I have awakened you, which is méchante of me. Oh, but the ’eart it go pit-pat, pit-pat. I think it burst from the bosom.’

‘Maman had a shock near the common,’ Aimée explained. ‘There were gipsies there a day or so ago. One of them was lurking in the bushes. He called out to her as she passed… something about telling her fortune.’

‘He look… evil,’ said Madame Legrand. ‘I begin to run…’

‘And he ran after her, or so she thought,’ went on Aimée. ‘Poor Maman, rest a while and I will bring you one of your tisanes.’

‘And now we have return and disturb poor Clarissa. See to her, Aimée. I will go to my room. Clarissa, you must forgive.’

‘Oh it was nothing,’ I assured her. ‘I wasn’t asleep. I’m so sorry you’ve had a fright.’

‘Maman is nervous by nature,’ whispered Aimée, ‘but she will be recovered in half an hour.’

I went back to bed and shortly afterwards Sabrina came in to tell me how high her horse had jumped and how Job, the groom who was teaching her, had said he had never had as good a pupil as she was.

She was so proud of her achievements that she could think of nothing else and was not even very interested when I told her how Madame Legrand had been frightened by a gipsy.

It was a few days later when I took my usual walk in the woods. My favourite spot was a little clearing among the trees. There was an old oak there under which I liked to sit. From there I could just glimpse the dene hole between the trees. I would sit there and wonder about it and imagine for what it had been used in prehistoric days. I would dream too of my baby, who had now become alive to me. I could feel its movement -and I longed above everything to hold it in my arms.

I knew that to have a child of my own would be the greatest happiness I could hope for.

There was something strange about that afternoon. Was it a premonition? I wondered afterwards; but from the moment I had entered the woods I had been aware of something… I was not sure what. It was a certain uneasiness. I had felt it before… in Enderby particularly… as though I were being watched, that I was menaced in some way. The servants had said it was the ghost in Enderby, but were there ghosts in the woods?

Little sounds made me start; a crackle in the undergrowth, the displacement of a stone, a sudden rustling. It was probably a squirrel getting his hoard ready for the winter; perhaps a rabbit or a weasel or a stoat scuttling through the foliage; the breeze making moaning sounds as it moved among the branches of the trees. They were the natural sounds of the wood which, but for the unusual nature of my mood, would have gone unnoticed.

When I came to the clearing the strangeness passed and peace descended upon me. I sat there under the oak, thinking of my baby. This time next year you’ll be here, my little one, I thought. And how I longed for the waiting to be over.

And then… there it was again. I was not alone. I knew it.

I turned my head sharply. I thought I saw a dark shadow darting among the trees… scarcely a human being… a shape.

I sat very still peering into the wood. I could see nothing.

I had imagined it, of course. I turned away. And then… there it was again… the sound of a footfall, the eerie certainty that something was menacing me… something evil.

I must get back to the house. To do so I had to go through the woods and suddenly I was afraid of what might be lurking there. There was no other way, though. It was absurd to be afraid of those familiar trees which I loved.

I had let my imagination run on. Sabrina, I thought, you are responsible for this!

I was getting a little cumbersome and not able to get nimbly to my feet, and as I attempted to do so there was a movement from behind. I turned. Something struck me on the back of my head. I had fallen to the ground. I was not sure what happened then. I think I must have lost consciousness for a moment or so, before a terrible realization came sweeping over me that Sabrina had been right. Someone wanted me out of the way and here I was in the woods, alone and helpless.

It could only have been for a few seconds that I had lost consciousness. I was aware now that I was being dragged across the grass. I could smell the scent of earth; the grass brushed my hands; I had returned, from blankness to horror and a fearful understanding of what was happening to me.

I was being dragged towards the dene hole.

I could not see who my assailant was. It appeared to be a dark, cloaked figure… man or woman, I was not sure. I was lying face downwards on the ground and I could not see who was looming over me. I could feel my head beginning to throb and I knew that death was staring me in the face.

Sabrina… oh, Sabrina… I was thinking. You were right after all.

I had stepped into a nightmare. I was going to be taken to the dark pit and then… I should disappear.

Suddenly I heard a voice; ‘Clarissa! Clarissa!’

Everything seemed to stand still. Time itself. But the voice I heard was that of Sabrina. I thought I must be dreaming. It was the last moments of consciousness before death took me; and it was significant that it should be Sabrina of whom I was thinking.

Sudden silence. What had happened? I knew I was still above the earth; vaguely I could see the light; I could smell and feel the grass beneath me.

I tried to rise. I heard Sabrina’s voice again. ‘Stop. Stop. What are you doing to Clarissa?’

Then she was close to me, kneeling over me. I could see her face hazily through the mists which seemed to be settling over my eyes.

‘Clarissa… oh dear, dear Clarissa. Are you all right? You’re not dead, are you?’

‘Sabrina.’

‘Yes, I came. Buttermilk was in a bad mood today. He wouldn’t jump. Job said leave him. He’s touchy today. So I did and I came here to find you… and talk. Then I heard you call out and I saw… I saw…’

‘What did you see?’ I was fighting the desire to slip back into unconsciousness. ‘Sabrina… Sabrina… what did you see?’

‘Someone… was pulling you across the grass.’

‘Who was it? Who?’

I was waiting for her to tell me. It seemed like a very long pause. I was praying, I think. Oh God, let it not have been Lance.

‘I didn’t know. It was the disguise. A long cloak and a hood over its face. It could have been anyone.’

‘Oh, Sabrina, whoever it was was going to kill me. I felt the strangeness as I came into the woods today… something evil… lurking there.’

‘Yes,’ said Sabrina, ‘yes. I ought to get you back to the house. Can you walk?’

‘I think so.’

‘We ought to get someone to carry you. I can’t go away and leave you, though. It might come back.’

I was sitting up leaning against her and she had her arm protectively round me.

‘Oh Sabrina,’ I said, ‘it was… horrible.’

‘It was attempted murder,’ she answered. ‘If I hadn’t been here they would have killed you.’

‘You saved my life. I am sure of it. I know what it was going to do—take me to the dene hole.’ Sabrina was shivering.

‘I knew I had to save you,’ she said. ‘I knew it.’

We clung together for a moment. Then I said: ‘We must get back. If whatever it is comes back…’

‘I’d kill it,’ said Sabrina.

‘Help me up.’

She did. My head was swimming and I could feel a large bump coming up. I felt I was going to faint.

Then I thought with alarm of my baby. I felt it move within me and for a moment I felt exultant. I had greatly feared it might have suffered from the assault.

Sabrina put her arm round me and although she was only a girl of ten I felt safe and secure with her beside me.

I took a few tottering steps towards the trees.

‘It’s not really far,’ said Sabrina. ‘Can you do it, dear Clarissa?’

I said I could and I would.

As we came within sight of the house I saw Lance. He was on his way to the stables. When he saw us he stopped and stared.

‘Clarissa! Sabrina! What’s happened?’ he cried. He had run to us and as I looked at his kindly, handsome face, so full of concern, I was ashamed of myself for thinking for a moment that he could wish me harm, let alone do me any.

I said: ‘I was attacked in the woods.’

‘Good God! Are you all right?’

‘I’m very shaken… and I can feel a bump on my head. I think Sabrina has saved my life.’

It was as though a radiance had settled on Sabrina. She smiled and nodded. Then she said excitedly: ‘Something told me to go into the woods and save Clarissa. I came just in time. I saw this man… or whatever it was… all dressed in a cloak like a monk’s… and there was Clarissa on the ground. It was dragging her along to the dene hole.’

‘What are you talking about?’ demanded Lance.

‘It’s true,’ I said. ‘Someone did attack me. It didn’t seem like robbery. I was being dragged across the ground and I can only think it was to the dene hole.’

‘It sounds mad. But let’s get you in.’ He picked me up in his arms, and the tenderness in his face touched me deeply.

As we entered the hall Madame Legrand was coming down the stairs’.

She stopped suddenly at the sight of me and murmured: ‘Mon Dieu!’

Lance said: ‘Clarissa has been attacked in the woods. Let’s get her to bed.’

He went on up the stairs, Sabrina still at his heels with Madame Legrand joining her.

‘Attack, you say? What is this attack? This dear child… is she well? The little bébé…’

‘Everything is all right, I think,’ said Lance. ‘I’ll have the woods scoured to see what prowlers are about. Everyone must be warned.’ We had reached our bedroom and he laid me gently on the bed. ‘I shall get the doctor,’ he said. ‘I think that wisest.’

Madame Legrand said: ‘I will nurse her. I will see that she is well again. No harm must come to this little baby.’

Sabrina said: ‘I’m staying with her.’

‘No… no…’ murmured Madame Legrand, ‘she must rest. It is best for her to be quiet.’

Sabrina insisted stubbornly: ‘I shall stay.’

I smiled at my little defender. ‘I should like Sabrina to sit by my bed,’ I said.

Madame Legrand started to protest and Lance said: ‘If that is what you want, Clarissa…’

Sabrina smiled complacently.

Nanny Curlew had come in. She had heard what had happened. It always astonished me how quickly news travelled. She said a hot sweet dish of tea was what was wanted and she was brewing one immediately. I had had a nasty shock and that would help until the doctor came.

Lance went off to send someone for the doctor. Then he came and sat by my bed. Sabrina sat on the other side. When the tea came she took it from Nanny Curlew and tasted it.

‘It is not for you, Miss,’ said Nanny Curlew.

‘I know,’ retorted Sabrina, ‘but I’m the taster.’

I wanted to tell her how she comforted me; how happy I was to have her with me. It was to her I turned before I did to Lance, and that was significant. I could not feel suspicious of him as he sat there at my bedside, looking so anxious and tender, and yet… lurking at the back of my mind there were still a few doubts and fears.

Those shapely white hands of his with the Clavering crest on the signet ring he wore on his little finger… were they the hands which had dragged me along? I kept thinking how much he would have gained by my death. He had had plenty of time to discard the monk’s robe… perhaps leave it somewhere in the woods… and then appear sauntering casually towards the stables.

And so I turned to Sabrina… the only one of whose fidelity I could be absolutely sure.

The doctor arrived. He shook his head gravely. It was a nasty blow I had had on the back of my head. My arms and legs were grazed too; but fortunately the baby appeared to be unharmed by the adventure. As for myself, I was very shocked—perhaps more than I realized just now. I must rest for several days and take nourishment. If I did so, he believed I would be myself in a week or so.

The news spread. Madame Legrand had been chased by a gipsy and now I had actually been attacked in the woods. The next day Aimée came running in from the woods in a breathless state. She had been chased by a figure in a dark cloak with a concealing hood which hid the face. She had been terrified and just managed to make the edge of the woods before the apparition caught up with her. As she came into the open, her pursuer disappeared.

‘It is some madman disguising himself with the hood and cloak,’ declared Lance. ‘I’ll set people to watch in the woods. He has to be caught.’

This he did but the apparition seemed to have learned that he was being looked for and made no appearances.

I recovered quickly. Sabrina was constantly with me, and I began to be glad of what had happened because of the change it had wrought in her. She had never forgotten that it was her disobedience which had cost her mother her life. Now she had saved mine and felt she had expiated her sin. Through her a life had been lost; now, through her, one had been saved.

I loved to have her near me, tasting my food as she insisted on. She was now even talking about the baby, and admiring the clothes which were being prepared for the child.

I found that I had lost a garnet brooch during my adventure. It wasn’t very valuable but was precious to me because Damaris had given it to me long ago.

I told Sabrina. I said: ‘The clasp was weak, and when I was dragged along the ground it must have come undone.’

‘I’ll find it for you,’ said Sabrina, confident in her powers to do everything she set her hand to.

‘It’s lost for ever, I dare say. Don’t go into the woods alone.’

She was silent, nodding her head.

It was two days later while I was having my afternoon rest when she burst in on me.

That she was excited was obvious. Her hands were grubby and she looked as if she had been digging up the earth.

‘Oh, Clarissa, what do you think I’ve found!’

‘My brooch?’

She shook her head and for once even Sabrina was at a loss for words. Then she said slowly: ‘Look. I found it near the dene hole. It’s Jeanne’s Jean-Baptiste.’

I stared down at the little plaque with the chain attached. Soil was sticking to it. As I took and held it memories of Jeanne came flooding back, of her showing me this when I was a child, her Jean-Baptiste which had been put about her neck when she was born and which she must wear until the day she died.

I felt sick. And it had been found near the dene hole.

Thoughts crowded into my mind. I was there again… lying on the ground… I was being dragged along with obvious intent. Someone had planned to throw me down the dene hole. Could it have been that Jeanne had met the same murderer and that there had been no one to rescue her?

But no. Her clothes had gone. My jewels had gone and only the bezoar ring had been recovered.

There was some mystery here and wild thoughts were racing through my head.

Lance said the dene hole must be searched. No one, as far as he knew, had ever been down there before, but that was no reason why someone should not go down now.

All the men on the estate were with him. They all knew of Jeanne’s disappearance and now that this ornament had been found near the dene hole, it seemed significant, for I could testify and so could others that Jeanne had taken off her Jean-Baptiste only to wash and she had always said that she would wear it till she died.

Several men volunteered for going down the dene hole. Stakes were brought, with a thick rope-ladder. There was excitement throughout the community and everyone was talking about the prowler in the woods. They were certain that Jeanne had been his victim.

I remember that afternoon well. It was hot—the beginning of July—and in the woods practically the entire neighbourhood had gathered. Lance had said I must not be there. In any case the doctor’s orders were that I should rest every afternoon. Sabrina stayed with me, although I knew she was longing to be in the woods.

At length Lance came to my room. His face was pale and for once very serious.

‘Poor Jeanne,’ he said. ‘We misjudged her. She’s hardly recognizable… but her clothes are down there and her old cloth bag… do you remember? The one she brought with her from France.’

I covered my face with my hands; I could not bear to look at Lance or Sabrina.

Jeanne, dear, good, misjudged Jeanne, how could we ever have thought she was a thief? We should have known,

‘It’s a mystery,’ said Lance. ‘The jewellery was missing. What can it mean?’

Aimée had come into the room.

‘I heard you come in, Lance,’ she said.

He told her that Jeanne’s body had been found.

‘In the dene hole!’ Aimée was almost disbelieving.

Lance nodded.

‘It must have been this gipsy… or prowler… all that time ago…’

Lance was silent.

I said; ‘There is the loss of the jewellery to explain. What could that have to do with Jeanne’s being attacked in the woods?’

‘That,’ said Lance, ‘we shall have to find out.’

‘But… how?’ asked Aimée.

‘Well, someone sold the jewellery to the London jeweller from whom Clarissa bought the bezoar ring.’

‘Oh yes, I see,’ said Aimée slowly.

‘We’ll get to the bottom of it in time,’ said Lance. ‘At least poor Jeanne has been exonerated. Poor girl… to die like that… and to be blamed for stealing…’

‘Dear Jeanne,’ I said, ‘I never really believed it of her. At least some good has come out of this attack on me.’

‘I shall go up to London at once,’ said Lance. ‘I’ll call on that jeweller.’

There was no talk of anything but the fate which had befallen Jeanne. In the village, in the servants’ hall, it was discussed endlessly. Most people declared that they had always known Jeanne was honest and that there was something decidedly odd about her disappearance, which was not true, of course, as most of them had stated at the time of Jeanne’s disappearance that you never could be sure of foreigners.

After a few days Lance came back from London. It was a stormy evening when he returned and he had had a difficult journey from London because of the weather. He had seen the jeweller and questioned him. The man had repeated his story about a Frenchwoman coming in with the jewellery and the tale she had told about leaving England in a hurry. Did he think he would know her if he saw her again? He was sure of it.

More enquiries were being made, said Lance, and they would go on until the mystery was solved.

The next morning Madame Legrand and Aimée were missing.

‘It began to seem rather obvious,’ said Lance, ‘from the time we found Jeanne’s body. A Frenchwoman selling the jewellery could very likely be Madame Legrand or Aimée.’

‘Yes,’ I pondered, ‘but what has that got to do with the death of Jeanne?’

Lance thought that when she had disappeared, they might have had the idea that they could steal the jewellery and make it appear that Jeanne had taken it—which it did.

‘They are obviously running away now,’ he said. ‘You can depend upon it, they will try to get to France. I’m going to get them back because there is a lot of explaining to be done. They might try to make for Dover. On the other hand that would take time. How would they get to Dover? The horses are all in the stables… besides, Madame Legrand cannot ride. I am sure they will take one of our little boats and try to get along the coast in it… to Dover, possibly, where they can take ship for the Continent. I’m going to get down there and see what I can find out.’

I watched him ride away. Sabrina was with me. She looked pleased; although she said nothing she was reminding me by her very expression that she had always known there was something wrong with both Aimée and her mother.

All through that day I waited. It was late evening when Lance came back, bringing Aimée with him. She seemed more dead than alive and unaware of what was happening to her. We got her to bed and the doctor was sent for. She was like someone in a trance.

While we were waiting for the doctor Lance explained to me. In desperation they must have taken one of the boats and attempted to get along the coast as he had thought they would. The sea was rough and their craft very frail and they could make no headway. They were washed back to the shore again and again, but when Lance found them they had been carried out to sea. He watched them, contemplating how he could best get out to them. He saw their boat capsize and the two women washed overboard.

He saw that they were in danger of drowning. Madame Legrand went under but he managed to save Aimée.

One or two of the grooms were with him, but they could not save Madame Legrand although they made several attempts. Aimée was half-drowned, but when Lance applied artificial respiration she survived. He thought the best thing was to get her back to the house, and here they were.

Aimée recovered in a day or so. She was deeply shocked and very frightened, but I think there was a certain relief that she could tell the truth. This she did, throwing herself on our mercy.

She was wicked; she was a cheat and a liar, but she begged our forgiveness and said that if we could possibly give her another chance she would go back to France and try to earn her living there as a dressmaker, which was what she should have stayed in France to do all the time.

I was sorry for Aimée. She was quite different now from the girl I had known first at Hessenfield Castle and later here in my home. She was very fearful of the future; she was subdued, almost cringing in her terror.

She seemed to be afraid of Lance and turned her pleading eyes on me as though begging me to save her from her deserts.

When we heard the whole story, Lance and I decided we must not blame her too much, for she had been under the influence of her dominating mother. She did what she did because she had always obeyed her mother without question, and it did not occur to her that she could do otherwise.

The truth as Aimée told it to us—and I do not think she was lying, for there was no point in doing so now—was as follows:

Giselle Legrand was in fact Germaine Blanc who had lived as a servant in the hôtel where my parents had lived. Germaine had an illegitimate daughter who was Aimée and whose father was the footman in a nearby hôtel. Because Germaine was in the household she saw my father frequently, which was why she could give such an accurate account of his habits and talk of him so knowledgeably. When he and my mother died almost at the same time through what was believed to be some sort of plague, Germaine had seized her opportunity. She had stolen my father’s watch and ring. It must have been easy to pilfer from his dead body. He had realized that he was suffering from some fatal illness and had written a letter to his brother about my mother and me; but as he did not mention our names—as he had already mentioned us to his brother—it was easy for Germaine to say that the letter was given to her by my father and concerned her and her child.

Germaine had always been a clever woman. She had waited for the right moment to act, realizing of course that it might never come. But when it did she would be ready, and she was. When Aimée grew up and there was easy traffic between France and England because the war was over, she had decided to send her to Lord Hessenfield. My father had had a reputation as a philanderer and Carlotta, my mother, had been one of his many mistresses. It was logical to assume that Germaine might have been another. Who was to know that she had been a servant in the household? Shrewd and good-looking as she was, she had become the mistress of a bookseller on the Left Bank and when the Hessenfield household had broken up she went to live with him. The plan had been growing in her mind for some time and she thought it would provide very well for her daughter’s future; and when that was established she might decide to join her, which was really how it worked out. Aimée was to present herself to the living Lord Hessenfield as his brother’s daughter, and one who, according to the letter, was to have a share in the estate.

‘I did not want to do it,’ Aimée kept assuring us. ‘But I was afraid of my mother… I always have been. So I came and it was easy at first… and I liked the life. It was so much better than what I had had to do in Paris. I really made myself believe it was true… I was your half-sister, Clarissa. After all, it all seemed to fit… and it could have happened just like that. Only it didn’t. You were so kind to me… you and Lance… I could have been happy and forgotten it was all a fraud… if she hadn’t come here.’

She shivered and covered her face with her hands at this point. ‘You see,’ she said, so quietly that we could scarcely hear, ‘Jeanne knew her. She recognized her at once. She was about to come into the house and there—in the garden—was Jeanne. She took one look at my mother and said, “Why… if it isn’t Germaine Blanc. What are you doing here?” My mother hadn’t thought of Jeanne. I had forgotten to mention her. How she cursed me for that. And when she came face to face with her, she turned and ran into the woods. She allowed herself to be caught by Jeanne… there.’

I felt overcome with horror. I was beginning to see exactly what had happened.

‘Jeanne said, “What are you up to, Germaine Blanc? No good, I’ll swear… if you are anything like you used to be.” My mother then went for her. I don’t know whether Jeanne was dead before she threw her down the dene hole. But… that was the end of Jeanne. I was terrified and horrified. I really was. I could see Jeanne could ruin everything for us… but I didn’t want to kill her. I would never have done that. You must believe me, Clarissa… Lance… I was there but I didn’t do it. I had no hand in that. I never wanted to be a party to… murder.’

‘I understand,’ I said. ‘I do… I do.’

‘My mother said we must make it look as though she had run away, taking things with her. I did show her where her clothes were… the jewellery. Yes, I did that. But I had to, Clarissa. I had to do what she told me.’

‘And then your mother sold the jewellery to a London jeweller,’ said Lance. ‘That was a mistake.’

‘Yes, she needed money. It was for that reason.’

‘And,’ I said, ‘she was going to kill me.’

‘She always made plans. She said she had to get what she wanted from life. She wasn’t born lucky. That’s what she always said. She had to make her own way. None of these plans ever really brought her what she wanted. She wanted to be lady’s maid to Lady Hessenfield and when she might have got it, Lady Hessenfield died. Then the bookseller was going to marry her… and he died. I think that made her determined to succeed with this bigger plan.’

‘And why did she want to kill me… to send me down the dene hole with Jeanne?’

‘So that the money you had from Lord Hessenfield, and which had grown so much, would come to me. Then she wanted a grand marriage for me…’ Aimée flushed.

Good heavens! I thought. She was planning that Lance should be Aimée’s husband. So Sabrina’s suspicions were not without foundation.

Aimée said quickly: ‘She thought if I had your fortune it would be easy for me to find a rich husband.’ She broke down and began to cry pathetically. ‘What can become of me now?’ she sobbed. ‘Let me go back to France, please, I’ll work there. Perhaps…’

Lance and I talked a great deal about Aimée.

‘She stole the jewellery because her mother insisted that she should,’ said Lance. ‘She acted the part of your half-sister for the same reason. She would have done none of these things on her own.’

‘And yet she cheated at cards,’ I told him. ‘I saw her. I know she needed money badly… but it is no excuse really. She has my bezoar ring…’

Lance looked startled. ‘Why, Eddy must have given it to her.’

‘It seems the only answer,’ I said. ‘Sabrina discovered it. You know she has established herself as my guardian angel or my watchdog.’

‘Bless the child,’ said Lance fervently.

‘Lance.’ I turned to him earnestly. ‘I’m almost glad this happened. Sabrina saved my life. There is no doubt of that now. It was what she needed. I wonder if she would ever have got over that unfortunate incident on the ice without this.’

Lance took my face in his hands. ‘It was a risky price to pay for the lesson.’ And then suddenly that veneer of graceful manners dropped from him; he held me to him; he was intense and briefly allowed his fears to show. I loved him for that, and I was more than ever ashamed for having doubted him.

‘And what of Aimée?’ I asked.

‘It’s for you to decide,’ he told me. ‘Poor girl. She shouldn’t be charged with murder. An accessory, perhaps… but in extenuating circumstances. No, I think Aimée will get by if she is free of her dominating mother. The Hessenfield money is all yours now… if she has left any. We can send her back to France, and set her up as a dressmaker there. Perhaps that would be the best thing that can happen to her. As far as robbery is concerned, we should have to bring a charge against her, and I am sure you would not want to do that.’

I agreed that I would not.

I talked it over with her. She was very grateful.

‘It might have been so different,’ she said, ‘if my husband had lived. I would have stayed in the North. Jeanne would never have seen my mother.’

‘But it didn’t work out that way and I think you are honest enough not to have been truly happy in such deception.’

‘Honest?’ she said with a wry laugh. ‘You caught me cheating once, and there is the bezoar ring…’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘what about the bezoar ring?’

‘My mother wanted you to lose it because she was trying to poison you with her tisanes. She hated Sabrina, for she was arousing suspicions. “How does that child know so much?” she was always saying. “Has she second sight?” She was sure the ring had magical properties and she wanted to lose it, so she hit on this idea of letting Eddy win it from Lance. I’m weak, Clarissa. I’m not worthy of your regard. I helped her again. I put him up to it… and I helped him win that night.’

‘You mean…’

‘You saw me do once. He won the ring… through me. I saw that he had the right card. He was fond of me, Eddy was,’ she added wistfully.

She brought the ring back to me and I slipped it on my finger, glad to have it back. It was part of my Hessenfield inheritance.

The problem of Aimée was solved for us. Eddy asked her to marry him. He knew that Aimée was not what she had pretended to be; he knew that her mother had murdered Jeanne and that Aimée had played her part in this; but he believed she was repentant and under his influence could regain her self-respect. He genuinely loved her.

He sold his house and decided they would be better right away, so he bought a farm in the Midlands and declared that he would give up gambling and they would make a life together.

There was the question of Jean-Louis. He had grown up in our nurseries; Nanny Goswell was the one he loved best. What should happen to Jean-Louis?

Aimée had never been a maternal type. She told me she wanted a complete break with the past. Jean-Louis was in a state of misery when he heard he was to leave us and go with his mother and her new husband. He followed Nanny Goswell round and would not let her out of his sight. He cried at night and had nightmares. In the morning he would not get up from his bed and used to cling to the bedposts. Once he hid himself in the attics and we thought he was lost.

At last we came to the conclusion that he should stay with us… for a while at least. There was no disguising Aimée’s relief. As for Jean-Louis, he was beside himself with joy.

So Jean-Louis stayed with us when Aimée left.

In spite of everything that had gone before, my baby was born at the appointed time. She was strong and healthy from the start, and I had never been so happy in my life as I was when I held her in my arms—my very own child. I called her Zipporah and from the moment of her coming she changed the household. She was a contented baby and only cried when she was hungry or tired. She bestowed her smiles on everyone indiscriminately and never failed to charm them all. Lance adored her and it was clear that she had a special feeling for him. As for Jean-Louis, he would stand at her cradle and gaze at her in wonder. He would rattle a case of beans for her pleasure over and over again; he would put coloured rings into a little sack and get them all out again as though it were the most interesting occupation in the world just because that was what Zipporah wanted to do.

I think his devotion to her was something to do with his desire to establish himself as part of our household… In any case, his devotion to Zipporah amused us all except her. She took it for granted.

Nor did it diminish as the years began to pass.