Drop of the Dice Read online

  ‘People won’t like a German,’ said Arabella.

  ‘They’ll get used to him,’ added Priscilla.

  ‘I believe people get used to anything in time,’ went on Lance, ‘even Mesdemoiselles Kielmansegge and Schulemberg.’

  ‘And who are they?’ I asked.

  ‘Do have some more of this roast beef,’ cut in Priscilla.

  ‘We thought the sloe gin was particularly good this year,’ added Arabella.

  This was another instance of their protection. I knew at once that there was something shocking to be learned about the ladies Lance had mentioned and that I was being shielded once more, so I repeated, looking directly at Lance: ‘Who are they?’

  ‘They are the King’s mistresses,’ he answered, smiling at me.

  ‘Clarissa is… er…’ began Damaris, blushing a little.

  ‘The lady Clarissa is more worldly than you give her credit for,’ said Lance, and I think he won my heart at that moment. He turned to me and went on: ‘They are German ladies… one incredibly fat, the other amazingly lean. You see, his Germanic Majesty likes variety. They speak very little English, like himself, and they are two of the most unattractive women in Europe. It is considered something of a joke that they should be the first German imports to show the country.’

  ‘It all sounds a bit of a joke,’ I said.

  ‘It is. I always thought so much in life is. Do you agree?’

  So we bantered and talked and the family watched and I really believe that at last they realized I was not the baby they had been imagining I was. Lance had made them see that I was almost grown up, and I loved him for that.

  It transpired that my Great-Uncle Carl and Lance would shortly be leaving for York. They were on some mission for the army.

  Damaris said: ‘Clarissa is going north to stay with her father’s relations. Perhaps she could accompany you as far as York. That is surely on the way. It would be a great relief to know that she had your protection… even so far!’

  Lance immediately cried out that it was a capital idea and after a few moments’ reflection Carl said he was sure it could be managed. It would mean my setting out a little before I had intended but Damaris was reconciled to that because she thought it would be good for me to travel with Carl and Lance.

  Preparations became intensive and while we were packing Damaris said to me: ‘I wonder if you would mind if I kept Jeanne here? She seems to manage Sabrina better than anyone.’

  I was disappointed, because I had grown so fond of Jeanne, and her bright Anglo-French conversation was always amusing to listen to. However, I did know how useful she was to Damaris and I was so excited at the prospect of my journey that I readily said of course she must stay.

  It was a warm day—the last of September—when we set out. We could not have left it much later. Damaris had said a tearful farewell to me and Jeremy stood beside her, a little reproachful because I so obviously wanted to meet my father’s family. Jeanne was both tearful and voluble. She was torn between her desire to be with the new little baby and to come with me whom she regarded as her very own.

  I was really rather glad to get away and felt ashamed of myself for this. I will get back before Christmas if that’s possible, I thought, for I knew they would hate to celebrate Christmas at Eversleigh without me.

  I rode between Carl and Lance Clavering and we were all very merry once we were on the high road and had left the sadness of parting behind us.

  It was a beautiful morning. The warmth of summer was still with us although the leaves of the oaks had turned to a deep bronze, and in the hedgerows the field maples were showing their orange and red banners. The tang of the sea was in the faint mist which enveloped everything and gave a touch of misty blueness to the woods.

  With us were two serving-men and two more to look after the packhorses. They rode behind us keeping a watch on the roads.

  Lance said: ‘How I love setting out on a journey. It’s an adventure in itself. Do you think so, Clarissa? The sun will break through at any moment. But I like the mist. Do you? There is an air of mystery about a mist… mystery and adventure. What say you, Clarissa?’

  His questions were rhetorical. He never waited for answers. ‘It’s a morning for singing,’ he went on. ‘What say you?’ Then he broke into song.

  ‘There came seven gipsies on a day

  Oh, but they sang bonny O

  And they sang so sweet and they sang so clear

  Down came the Earl’s lady O

  ‘They gave to her the nutmeg

  They gave to her the ginger

  But she gave to them a far better thing

  The seven gold rings off her fingers.’

  ‘You’ll awaken the countryside,’ said Carl.

  ‘They should be about at this hour,’ retorted Lance. ‘It’s such a pathetic story. Do you know the rest of it, Clarissa?’

  ‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘The Earl’s lady went off with the gipsies.’

  ‘So you do know the story.’ He went on singing:

  ‘Last night I lay on a good feather bed

  And my own wedded lord beside me

  And tonight I’ll lie in the ash corner

  With the gipsies all around me.

  ‘The castle lost for the love of the gipsies. What do you think of the Earl’s lady? Was she a wise woman or a foolish one?’

  ‘Foolish,’ I replied promptly. ‘She would soon get tired of the ash corner and the gipsies all around her. She’ll be wanting her high-heeled Spanish shoes before long, you can be sure.’

  ‘What a practical girl you are! I thought you would have more romantic ideas. Most girls have.’

  ‘I am not most girls. I am myself.’

  ‘Ah, we have an individualist here.’

  ‘I think the lady was not only foolish but unkind.’ I sang the last verse of the song.

  ‘The Earl of Casham is lying sick

  Not one hair I’m sorry

  I’d rather have a kiss from his fair lady’s lips

  Than all his gold and money.’

  ‘And you find such sentiments foolish?’ asked Lance.

  ‘Extremely so.’

  So we chattered rather frivolously until we stopped at an inn for refreshment and to rest the horses; but after a short stay there we were on our way again.

  We passed through villages and towns and I noticed that Carl was watchful, as though he were looking out for something. I knew of course that they were going to York for some secret purpose and I was glad, for to travel in their company—and particularly that of Lance—was exhilarating.

  Through the golden afternoon we rode on and at dusk came to an inn which they had previously decided should be the one where we spent the night.

  Rooms were prepared for us and we had a grand meal of fish with a delicious sauce, followed by roast mutton and a kind of syllabub which was a speciality of the innkeeper’s wife. I was given cider and the man sat back sipping their port. While we were at table a man came into the dining room. I don’t know why I noticed him. He was dressed in a dark brown frieze coat with black buttons, brown shoes and black stockings. On his formally curled peruke was a three-cornered hat which he took off when he came into the inn parlour.

  He sat close by and I had the impression that he was interested in us. It might have been that Lance Clavering’s elegance would arouse interest wherever he went. Uncle Carl certainly looked less impressive without his uniform. As for myself I was only a very young girl and I had a feeling that it was the men who were arousing the stranger’s interest. He sat quietly in a corner and after a while I forgot him.

  I was tired out with the day’s riding and the fresh air had made me sleepy, and as soon as I was shown to my room I went to bed and slept deeply. I was amazed that morning came so swiftly and I was aroused by the stirring of the inn folk. I got up and looked out of my window. Lance was down there. He looked up and saw me.

  ‘Did you sleep well, beauteous maid?’ he asked.

 
‘The sleep of exhaustion,’ I told him.

  ‘What tired you so? Not my company, I hope.’

  ‘No, that was enlivening. I went to sleep thinking about the Earl’s lady.’

  ‘That foolish one! There’s no need to hurry this morning. We shall be late leaving. One of the horses has cast a shoe. They’ll be taking her along to the smith.’

  ‘Oh… when did this happen?’

  ‘I’ve just discovered it. We shall be leaving at eleven. That will give us a chance to go to the fair.’

  ‘The fair? What fair?’

  ‘With your entertainment in mind, I. have been acquainting myself with the lie of the land. It seems that in the village of Langthorn… or is it Longhorn, I am not sure… in any case, the fair comes to the village twice a year and it so happens that this day is one of its biannual visits. Fortuitous, you may say, and so it is. The powers that be are determined that this shall be an interesting journey for all concerned.’

  ‘What does my great-uncle say?’

  ‘He is resigned. He has some business to do here, in any case. So he said to me, “Will you look after my little niece for an hour or so, Clavering?” I replied, “Indeed I will, sir. Nothing would give me greater pleasure, sir. If you have no objection, your little niece and I will visit the fair.” He gave his willing consent to this excursion.’

  ‘Are you always so exuberant and talkative?’

  ‘Only when I have an appreciative audience.’

  ‘You find me appreciative?’

  ‘I find you everything I would wish you to be at the precise moment I would wish it. Now that, my dear Clarissa, is the definition of an attractive woman.’

  ‘I suspect that you do not mean all the flattering things you say.’

  ‘A statement of fact is not flattery, is it? One eulogizes because the spirit moves one to do so. One speaks as one finds and if there is a flow of words… well, that is useful, but it is not flattery. To you I speak the truth and if it seems overfulsome that is because modesty is yet another of your excellent virtues.’

  ‘Have you ever been at a loss for words?’

  ‘There have been times. At the gaming table, perhaps, when I have lost more than I could afford.’

  ‘That must be alarming.’

  ‘Well, it is part of the gamble. If a man won every time there would be no excitement, would there? But I must not talk to you of gambling. Your family would heartily disapprove of that. Well, what say you to a visit to the fair?’

  ‘I should love it.’

  ‘Then break your fast early, and we’ll set off. I promise you an exciting morning.’

  ‘I will be as quick as I can.’

  I turned from the window, pulled the bell-rope and asked for hot water. I washed and went down. While I was eating hot crisp bacon on crusty bread and drinking a mug of ale, the man in the frieze coat came in. He was dressed for departure. He talked to the landlord about his horse. He was obviously rather anxious to be on his way.

  When I left the dining room Lance was waiting for me and he told me we had a couple of hours before we need be back at the inn. As we walked into the village we heard sounds of merriment. The fair was set up in a field where there were brightly-coloured booths and such crowds that I guessed many people had some in from the neighbouring countryside.

  Lance took my arm. ‘Keep close to me,’ he said. ‘At fairs like this robbers abound. Keep your hands on your purse and if anyone attempts to snatch it, shout and I’ll prevent the robbery. Above all, keep close and don’t stray from your protector.’

  ‘Who is you… Sir Lancelot!’

  ‘I have a confession to make to you. That is my real name. As soon as I became aware of its implications—that was when I was seven years old, for I was a very intelligent child, as you have gathered, and the quality has stayed with me in later life—I changed it. Lancelot! Imagine. Lance is so much more suitable. There is something rather aggressive about a lance. A weapon of war.’

  ‘Lancelot was aggressive at times, I believe. And then there was all that trouble over Guinevere.’

  ‘All the same, I should hate to go through life with the label of knighthood attached to me.’

  I laughed.

  ‘You are amused?’ he asked.

  ‘We seem to get into discussions about matters which are of no real importance.’

  ‘My name is of the utmost importance to me… and I hope it will be to you. As for those Spanish leather shoes you were so anxious about, I think I learned something about you through your attitude to the Earl’s lady and that is what interests me, my dear Clarissa.’

  ‘I fancy you might be a little like Sir Lancelot after all,’ I said. ‘What is that smell?’

  ‘An ox… roasting. A necessary feature of such occasions. They’ll be selling it at so much a slice.’

  ‘I don’t think I should want any of it.’

  ‘But you’ll have a fairing, won’t you? For I shall insist on that.’

  ‘I have an idea that you will not have to be too insistent.’

  I was fascinated by the fair. I had never seen anything like it. I felt I was stepping out into adventure. But perhaps this had something to do with the company of Lance Clavering. Perhaps it was because he did not treat me as a child.

  The autumn sun was faintly warming and it gave a glow to goods displayed the stalls. There was one section for the cattle. Horses were for sale, too, but it was the stalls that fascinated me. Together Lance and I inspected the saddles, the boots, other clothing, pots, brushes, ornaments, potatoes in their jackets roasting in a brazier; there were chestnuts, too. Lance bought a bag of these and we munched contentedly.

  This was a special fair, Lance told me. There were sideshows with waxworks, dwarfs and conjurers. There was one extremely fat woman and a very thin one and these caused great amusement because they were meant to remind the people of the King’s mistresses whom he had brought with him from Germany. They were not very respectful towards their new monarch.

  We went into one tent and watched a puppet show; we applauded wildly with the rest of the company and I noticed that Lance’s clothes attracted some attention, but the people were used to gentry looking in at the fair, so his presence was not as unusual as it might have been.

  He took me to the fairing stall and asked me to choose what I liked. There were sweetmeats tied up with ribbons making lovers’ knots—most of them heart-shaped, or in the form of some animal. There was a dog who looked rather like Damon. I hesitated over that; and then I saw a sugar mouse; it had bright pink eyes, a long tail and about its neck was a piece of blue ribbon. I was reminded immediately of the sugar mouse I had had all those years ago when Hessenfield had held up the coach and I had given him the tail of my mouse because although I had not known he was my father I had loved him.

  Lance saw that I was looking at the mouse, so he took it, and with it a heart in pink marzipan decorated with lovers’ knots. He insisted on buying that as well so we came away from the stall with the mouse and the heart.

  He wanted to hear why I liked the mouse, and I told him.

  ‘Ah yes,’ he said, ‘Hessenfield.’ And for the first time since I had known him he looked a little serious.

  We went on through the fair. I wanted to stop time passing. It was a magic morning and I was so happy to be there. I felt excited because I felt that anything could happen.

  But as though fate was reminding me that it is not the way of life to give happiness all the time, I saw the hiring stall. I wished I had not passed that way as I looked at those sad people offering themselves for hire. They were people who had failed to find work in any other way. There was an old man who had desperation in his eyes and there was a girl of about my age. I felt it must be the ultimate humiliation to have to offer oneself in this way. There were others there too—some carrying the tools of their trade to tell prospective employers what they could do. I had never seen such expressions of mingled hope and desperation. Lance noticed my reaction, and
, taking my arm, gently turned me away from the hiring stall.

  I walked very quietly, not seeing the stalls of pots and pans, the geese which had been cooked and were browning over a fire; I did not hear the quack doctors shouting of the benefits and miracles performed by their pills for lucky purchasers. I could only think of the desperate expression in the eyes of the old man and the girl who could have been myself.

  ‘You have a tender heart, little Clarissa,’ said Lance, ‘and you have a great gift for putting yourself in the place of others. It is rare. Keep it. It will make life richer and fuller for you.’

  So there was after all a serious side to his nature, I reasoned, to talk like that and to mean what he said, for I sensed that he did. We came to the boxing booth.

  ‘We’ll go in here,’ said Lance, and I saw then that his seriousness had vanished. An excitement seemed to grip him.

  We were inside a large tent. In this a ring had been set up and two men were fighting each other. There were forms on -which we sat.

  It was warm in the tent. I could see the sweat glistening on the bodies of the fighters, who were bare to the waist. I found it rather repulsive and would have liked to leave but when I turned to Lance I saw the rapt expression on his face as he watched the men pummelling each other.

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

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

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

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

  ‘I thought that was horse racing.’

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