Philippa Carr - The Drop of the Dice

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Clarissa Field
Beautiful, spirited love child of a nobleman's dalliance with a tempestuous lady, Clarissa is only twelve when she first encounters the dashing officer, Lance Clavering. But she is not too young to fall in love, nor to become the pawn in a deadly game of power and passion which are both her heritage and her destiny. The time is 1715, the place an England rife with civil discontent threatening to explode into revolution. Clarissa is caught up in events which will alter England's history - and lure her into a strange, shadow box future.
Is the dashing Lance what he pretends - a heroic, charming lover - or is he the agent of an evil cabal sworn to strip Clarissa of her fortune, her dignity ... perhaps even her life?
Is the mysterious young rebel, Dickon Frenshaw - first her jailer, then her salvation - watching over her out of devotion ... or spying on her for those who would see her destroyed?
As her dreams of romance and peace first seem to be realized in marriage, then ever more gravely thratened by that same marriage, with only herself to trust, Clarissa must penetrate the long-buried mysteries of her own legacy - and risk a heartbreak more painful than betrayal.

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‘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.

THE SEED PEARL STOLE

WE CAME TO THAT period when my daughter was ten years old—a lovely child and a joy to us all. To my regret there had been no more children. Lance did not seem to mind. He was well content with his daughter. She looked rather like him—tall, fair-haired, with intensely blue eyes, but it was her smile which was so enchanting.

I suppose I could have been said to have settled down. I was happy—not perhaps ecstatically so, as I had been with Dickon, but I had come to believe that my feelings then had been partly due to youth and my first and sudden encounter with romance. Lance had been a good husband to me—always kind and tender, but perhaps never as close as I had felt myself to be with Dickon even though we spent but a few days together. Lance had his secrets—for he was really a very secretive man—and I always believed they were between us. I had often felt that his gambling was my rival and that his passion for it would always exceed that which he felt for me. I used to think that he would gamble us all away if the challenge were strong enough. It was a foolish thought and yet I was sure there was some truth in it.

This discontent with my marriage was only vague. In my sober moments I reproached myself for reaching out for the impossible… as perhaps most people do when it would be so much wiser to accept and enjoy what they have. They dream up an ideal… an impossible dream… and spend their lives unappreciative of what they have because it does not exactly fit the dream.

Lance was often in financial difficulties. In fact, he lived constantly on the verge of them. No sooner had he won than he would risk all he had gained. It would always be like that, I knew, and I must accept it because it was his nature. But, as I said, it set a barrier between us. He would never admit defeat. If ever I asked him how he fared it would always have been wonderful. I was shut out of his gambling life and as that meant more to him than anything I could not be very close.

Then of course there was Sabrina. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, bearing a strong resemblance to my mother, Carlotta, who had caused such consternation in the family. But she was not like Carlotta in other respects. She was determined, strong-willed, vivacious and adventurous. Carlotta, it was true, had been all these; but in Sabrina, the dominating trait was to care for the weak.

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