Drop of the Dice (37 page)

‘What a man!’ she said. ‘Never one like him. But he was never a man for one woman. Ah… if he had been… I did not see him so much after your mother came to France. I remember it well. She was said to be the most beautiful woman in Paris. It was no wonder that milord wanted her.

‘He talked to me about you. “That adorable daughter of mine,” he used to say. Oh, he was fond of you. He was fond of Aimée too. He would have been a good father if he could have settled down to one…’

I grew quite emotional, listening. I was back in that big
hôtel
which had been our home in Paris. I was lying in my little bed there, longing for a visit from my mother in one of her exquisite gowns. I was completely bemused by her dazzling, beautiful looks, and when he was with her, those had been the great occasions.

Madame Legrand touched me gently on the arm. ‘Oh, I see I have carried you back through the years…’

When we were ready to go I said she must come back with us. She demurred. No, no, it would be too
difficile,
she being as she was… but with no regrets. Anyone who had known my lord would have understood that he had to have his needs gratified, and there were few women who could resist him. No, she would not come. She would content herself with having seen her daughter. Ah, but she would like a glimpse of her little grandson. Just once to see him, to say ‘Ah, that is my little one who has made my Aimée so happy.’ Just that and then… adieux.

’What will you do then?’ I asked.

Again she lifted her shoulders. ‘I shall go back. There is work I can do. Perhaps be a housekeeper, eh? Am I not skilled in the work of the household, Aimée? It is best to forget the past and make the future.’

‘Dear Maman, you have only just come,’ said Aimée.

‘At least come and stay with us for a while,’ I said.

‘I could not. But you are so kind. I understand you have your husband. He will not wish me to impose. You have been good to Aimée and for that I thank you with all my heart. But for me… I shall go back to France. I will find some way of keeping myself. I am clever with my hands. I am a seamstress of some quality, am I not, Aimée? Oh, how I should love to make up that beautiful silk you have bought for my little one. But no matter.’

‘I am going to insist that you come and stay with us for a while,’ I said. ‘You must get to know your grandson. Besides, Aimée will be most upset if you go away just as soon as you have come.’

She cast down her eyes and shook her head.

Aimée took her hand. ‘Please, Maman,’ she said.

Madame Legrand hesitated and then said: ‘Very well. For a little stay. A little rest before I go away. A little time with my daughter and my grandson.’

‘You are very welcome,’ I told her.

Aimée said eagerly: ‘Let us go back to your inn. You can settle there and come right away.’

‘Oh… no… no… Give me today. Tomorrow I will come.’

‘Then let it be so,’ said Aimée. ‘Clarissa, may I have the carriage tomorrow and come and collect my mother?’

‘But of course. And I will come too. We’ll bring the children. Jean-Louis and Sabrina will love that.’

Madame Legrand covered her face with her hands.

‘You are too good,’ she murmured. ‘And I am too, too happy.’

So it was arranged.

So Aimée’s mother came to stay with us in Albemarle Street. Lance welcomed her with his usual charm. ‘Strange,’ he said, ‘we lost one member of the household and have acquired a new one.’

‘Lance,’ I said earnestly, ‘you don’t mind her being here?’

‘Mind! Of course not.’

‘I could do nothing else but invite her. She is, after all, my sister’s mother.’

‘Such complicated relationships,’ he murmured. ‘It all comes of your having such a colourful personality for a father.’

‘I’m sorry it happened that way.’

‘It’s the way of the world,’ he said, putting a light kiss on my cheek.

Madame Legrand proved to be quite an asset to the household. She was voluble in her gratitude and at the same time determined to make herself useful. Like her daughter, she had a wonderful way with clothes. She could make them and wear them so that the simplest looked elegant. She could dress the hair and apply the right amount of cosmetics to the face; she could make a dress to show off the advantages of one’s figure. She was good with the children, who were both a little fascinated by her strange accent; and her gesticulating conversation was a source of wonder to them both. Even Sabrina was at first impressed by her.

She did a great deal for me. She asked if she could dress my hair. She was sure she could show it off to better advantage. She understood I had had a French maid. Aimée had told her that the woman had turned out to be a thief and had upset us all by running away with valuable jewellery.

‘I still can’t believe it,’ I said, ‘I thought I knew Jeanne.’

‘Aimée tells me that she came from the slums of Paris.’

‘Oh, it is a long story but I owed her a good deal. I will never really believe what everyone says is the only answer to her disappearance.’

‘Ah, people are strange,’ mused Madame Legrand. ‘They are good in one way… bad in another… but if the bad is there, or the good, it will break out some time… and then… some part of the nature is revealed.’

She altered my clothes. ‘A little taken in here… you see… and we show off that pretty little waist. A little lower here to show the white throat and just a little beginning of the bosom, eh? And a full skirt… sweeping out from the waist. I will make a dress for you and you will be so beautiful… Yes, let me make it for you, dear Clarissa, to show you how happy I am to be here.’

Sometimes she talked of going away. We persuaded her to wait a while. A whole month passed and she was still with us.

I knew she wanted to stay and would be desolate if she had to leave us. She was devoted to her grandson, and he would sit on her lap and listen to stories about France; how the children collected snails after a rainy day and put them in a basket to take to the kitchens to be cooked and served with garlic; how they picked the grapes and danced on great tubs of them; how they put slippers by the fire on Christmas Eve when presents were put into them and opened on Christmas morning.

Sabrina listened too; she was clearly a little fascinated by Madame Legrand.

Then came the day when I knew for sure that I was pregnant. I was delighted. For the first time I ceased to think of Jeanne. The incident was now fading into the past but I was still not convinced that what appeared so obvious was true.

I did think, however, how excited she would have been at the prospect of my becoming a mother. It was something she had always wanted.

Lance was delighted. I had rarely seen him so enthusiastic about anything except gambling. A child at last! It was wonderful news. I could see that he was planning for a boy. I wondered whether he would take a gamble on it, and it would not surprise me in the least if he did. As for myself, I would be content with either sex. All I wanted was my own child.

Aimée said: ‘My mother is so delighted. She loves babies. The only thing that saddens her is that she will not be here to see the child born.’

‘Perhaps we can persuade her to stay till then.’

‘Clarissa, would you really! You would have a hard task persuading her because she feels she is imposing.’

‘Oh, what nonsense! This is a big household. Besides, look what she does for me. She is never idle and now that Jeanne has gone…’

‘You still think about her, don’t you, Clarissa?’

‘She was a true friend… I always thought.’

‘Alas, that you can be so mistaken in people.’

It was at length agreed that Aimée’s mother should stay until the baby was born.

‘I am sure you will be useful,’ I told her, to make her feel she was not imposing on our hospitality.

‘Well, if there is anything I can do to help, so gladly will I do it.’

My great pleasure was planning for the baby and talking of it with Lance. I think he even lost a little of his desire to gamble, in contemplating the arrival of the baby.

‘Perhaps we shall have a big family after all, Clarissa, eh?’ he said.

‘I should like ten children,’ I replied.

Lance laughed. ‘Let’s get one to begin with.’

Those were happy days. Often I found myself thinking how much Jeanne would have enjoyed this. Then I would remember, and disbelief would sweep over me.

I was constantly shopping during those first two months after my baby’s conception. I bought laces and ribbons and soft white materials. I would take the carriage and go into the heart of the city. There I would leave the carriage and do my shopping, telling the coachman where to pick me up. Sometimes I was accompanied by Aimée or her mother; on occasions I took Sabrina. She enjoyed it but I was always on tenterhooks that something might catch her fancy and she would slip away. I was terrified thinking of what might become of Sabrina. So I only took her when there was someone else with me.

I found that I enjoyed being alone; then I could wander where I wished as long as I remembered where to meet the carriage.

I loved to wend my way among the street vendors—past stalls full of apples and tarts, past the men selling hot gingerbread, or watercress, or doormats, past the chair-menders repairing chairs on the cobbles.

Usually different traders kept to certain streets. There were fishmongers in Fish Street Hill, booksellers in Little Britain, and barbers everywhere, for wigs were constantly worn by all and sundry and they needed frequent curling and powdering. I loved to see the man they called the Flying Barber who hurried through the streets calling to those who wanted a shave. He carried his hot water and razors with him and did his work there in the street under the eyes of the passers-by.

Nowhere in the world could there have been scenes of greater interest and vitality. At least, so it seemed to me, who had been bred in the country.

I felt stimulated by moving among these people, and the fact that I must cling tightly to my purse only added to the excitement of the adventure.

I was passing the jeweller’s shop, which always had a fascination for me, because I loved to see those sparkling gems displayed on dark velvet. There were bars across the window and I always wondered how soundly the jeweller slept in the gabled rooms above his shop.

I paused, and it immediately caught my eye. I stopped and stared. Lying there in the centre of the shop window was my bezoar ring.

It could not be mine. But could it be? Mine had had an unusual setting. After all, it had been a royal ring—according to legend. I could have sworn that that was my ring.

On impulse I went into the shop. As I stepped down a bell tinkled to warn the shopkeeper that someone had come in,

He rose from behind the counter.

‘Good day to you, my lady,’ he said.

I returned his greeting. ‘You have a bezoar, ring in the window,’ I said.

‘Oh yes. You recognized it for a bezoar, did you? They are not very common.’

‘I know. May I see it?’

‘With pleasure. Allow me.’ He brought it out of the window and I took it in my hand. I saw the initial inside. It was identical with the one Lord Hessenfield had given me.

‘I had one… exactly like this,’ I said.

He shook his head. ‘I would say this is unique. I have seen other bezoar rings. At one time kings and queens all had them—but those of lesser rank too. This is a special one. It belonged to Queen Elizabeth, who bestowed it on a courtier. You see the initial E inside.’

I was sure now. I turned it over and asked the price. I was surprised at its value.

I said: ‘May I ask how this came into your possession?’

‘Why yes, indeed. I bought it as I do so many of my pieces. Most of them are not new, as you know. When something goes back into time it increases its value. So it is with this. I bought it from a French lady.’

My heart sank. It seemed as though Jeanne’s guilt was being proved.

I said: ‘I have reason to believe that this ring was once mine. It was stolen.’

‘Oh, my dear lady, I do not deal in stolen goods.’

‘I am sure you would not knowingly… but if someone comes into your shop and tries to sell you something, how are you to know how it was come by?’

He looked apprehensive.

‘She was a very respectable lady. She had some fine emeralds, too, which I bought.’

‘May I see the emeralds?’

‘A necklace and a brooch,’ he murmured, frowning.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘That is right. Please let me see them.’

‘They were sold some weeks ago. A lady and a gentleman came in and he bought them for her.’

‘Tell me about the woman who sold them to you.’

‘She was French. She said she had to leave England in a hurry. She was going to catch the Dover coach. She had to return to France unexpectedly, and being short of money temporarily until she could settle her French estates, she was disposing of some of her jewellery.’

Oh, Jeanne, I thought, how could you?

I didn’t want to hear any more. I asked if he would deliver the bezoar ring to Albemarle Street, where he would be paid for it.

He promised to do so.

L
ANCE 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.’