Philippa Carr - The Drop of the Dice

Lance looked abashed. ‘I’ll see the coachmen,’ he said at length. ‘I’ll make it worth their while to forget they called here and took her back.’

‘Lance… is that wise?’

‘It’s necessary,’ he added.

‘Oh, Lance, I’m so glad you are here to help.’

He looked at me tenderly. ‘That’s my mission in life, to serve you,’ he said.

I was so grateful to him. He had always been so good and kind; in real trouble he was always there beside me.

Sabrina woke much calmer next day. She had always been logical and she saw at once that she was in no way to blame for what had happened. Lance and I told her that the best way out of the trouble was to keep quiet. The only people we had to fear were the housekeeper and the coachmen.

Had the housekeeper seen her clearly, could she say?

‘I hardly think so. It was dark and the house was not well lighted. She quickly took me up to Sir Ralph’s bedroom. We were only a minute or so in each other’s company.’

‘We’ll risk the housekeeper,’ said Lance.

Sir Basil Blaydon called that morning. He was clearly shaken. Lance was at home when he called, for which I was grateful.

He burst out at once: ‘Have you heard the news? Ralph is dead. He died last night. They say there was some woman with him. It was apoplexy, they think. I always told him that if he continued at the pace he was going it would happen one day.’

‘By Gad!’ cried Lance. ‘What an end! Who was with him at the time?’

‘There seems to be some doubt about that. The housekeeper says she let a woman in but she didn’t see her very clearly. She didn’t hear her name. She just knew that he was expecting someone and she took her up.’

Sir Basil was clearly upset. He had walked in Sir Ralph’s shadow for so long he could not imagine life without him.

As soon as he had gone Lance went out. When he came back, he was smiling.

‘I’ve seen the coachmen,’ he said. ‘I’ve made it worth their while to forget they called at this house to pick up a young woman. They will say they picked her up from some other point. At the top of Dover Street, I suggested. Anywhere to stop attention being directed to this house. There’s nothing to fear now. They will not think of looking for his companion here.’

How thankful I was for Lance!

The entire circle of our acquaintances was talking about Sir Ralph’s sudden death. There were a few smirks of complacency, for many had said he would meet his death that way. A man could not go on indefinitely practising the excesses he did without one day succumbing to exhaustion.

The great curiosity was to find the woman.

Then came the blow. I had not missed the seed pearl stole and had forgotten that I had lent it to Sabrina on that night. Of course she had been wearing it when she left the house, and she had come back without it.

It was found in the chamber of death. It was unusual, even unique, and many people knew to whom it belonged.

That was how the scandal started.

The identity of the woman was discovered, and who else could it be but the owner of the seed pearl stole; Clarissa Clavering.

Lance was appalled. Sabrina was horrified. She said she would confess at once. Lance stopped that.

It was a tricky situation. We must keep very quiet. In the meantime Lance endeavoured to find another stole like the one he had bought before. There was not another like it to be found. He would have to have one made… speedily, he said, and he wanted me to appear in it.

There was another factor. One of the coachmen whom Lance had bribed to keep quiet decided to talk when Sir Basil Blaydon promised a larger sum than Lance had given him. He told Sir Basil that he had come to our house in Albemarle Street and had picked up the lady in the seed pearl stole. She had gone willingly to Sir Ralph’s residence, where he had been waiting for her.

The whispers grew to a rumble. Everywhere they were talking. The mystery was solved and the general opinion was that the woman in the case was Lance Clavering’s wife.

Sabrina was beside herself with grief. ‘People must be told,’ she said. ‘I went because he was to be my father-in-law. Surely that will be easily understood.’

‘No one would believe it,’ I told her. ‘No, it is better for them to suspect me than you. You have your life before you. You are young. We do not want scandal clinging to you. However false it is proved to be, there will always be some who insist that it is true. Lance knows the truth. That is all that matters.’

Lance came in with a new stole. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘it only remains for you to appear wearing it.’

‘What if the stole-maker talks… as the coachman has?’ I asked.

‘We must risk that,’ said Lance.

‘Oh Lance, you take too many risks!’

The news was soon being circulated. The stole-maker had lost no time in spreading the news that she had made another stole for Lance, which was an exact replica of the one found in Sir Ralph’s bedroom.

Lance came in looking pale and very serious. I had never seen him look like that before. His eyes were glittering, his lips tightly set together.

He said: ‘I’ve called Blaydon out.’

‘What do you mean?’ I cried.

‘He insulted you. He insulted me. He said you were Lowell’s mistress. There were several people there and… I challenged him. We are meeting in Hyde Park tomorrow morning.’

‘No, no, Lance!’

‘It has to be. I couldn’t stand by and let him insult you.’

How like him that was. He would always obey the rules of society. To him it was the only gracious way of living. He would risk his life because he considered it was the only honourable thing to do.

‘What does it matter what they say of me?’ I cried. ‘You and I know it is untrue.’

Lance’s reply was: ‘I shall be meeting him tomorrow morning at dawn.’

I whispered: ‘What is it to be?’

‘Pistols,’ he said.

‘And if he kills you…?’

‘Luck is always on my side.’

‘And if you kill him?’

‘I shall aim for his legs. It’ll teach him a lesson if I put a bullet through one of them. He’d recover and perhaps regret he said what he did.’

‘Lance… stop this. It’s not worth it.’

‘It is worth it to me,’ he said; and there was that about the set of his lips which told me he would not diverge from his purpose.

‘Please don’t do it, Lance,’ I pleaded. ‘Let’s leave London. Let them say what they will. What does it matter to us? We know the truth. It’s agreed that Sir Ralph was responsible for his own death. No one is accused of foul play. It is so easy. Let us slip away. Scandals die down.’

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘I shall defend your honour. It is the only thing I can do in the circumstances.’

‘It is not. There are other things. It is a silly code that doesn’t fit in with reality.’

‘It means something to me, Clarissa. Leave this in my hands. I will make him repent. He shall eat his words. I will not have your name sullied.’

There was no persuading him.

I did not tell Sabrina. She would have been frantic with remorse. I kept from her the fact that both the stole-maker and the coachman had talked. She did not go out, for which I was thankful. She had not seen Reggie either. I was sure she could not bear to think of him now for he would surely remind her of that terrible scene with his father.

I did not sleep all night. I wanted to go with Lance to the park, but he would not allow that.

‘You must not be there,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back with you soon. Then I promise you we’ll leave London. We’ll go to the country and take Sabrina with us. We’ll take Zipporah and Jean-Louis and forget this nightmare.’