Drop of the Dice

by Philippa Carr

  She was full of confidence in the future. She was going to marry Reggie and make him a happy man; and this night she would face his father.

  At precisely eight o’clock the carriage arrived. A footman knocked at the door. Sabrina was waiting. From an upper window I saw her get into the carriage and drive away. Not for a moment did it occur to me that the happenings of this night would affect us all so bitterly.

  Lance was at the club and I was trying not to picture him at the card table, that intense look on his face as he gambled away… heaven knew what.

  I preferred not to think of him. Instead I was thinking of Sabrina, about to marry and go away from us. So it happened. One day Zipporah’s turn would come. It was heartbreaking to lose those one had loved and cherished through their childhood, when one had been the most important person in their lives. But there must come the time when it was necessary to slip back and hand over the loved one to a husband.

  Zipporah was young yet, but I was already beginning to wonder how much longer I should keep even her with me.

  I should be rejoicing though in Sabrina’s happiness… if happiness it was. She was like a nun dedicated to a mission. She was marrying for pity. However, I must accept the fact that it was what she wanted and when she had set her mind on something she would never diverge from it.

  I settled down to read. It must have been nearly two hours after the carriage had left when she came back. She was wrapped in an old cloak which she had certainly not been wearing when she left the house. She came into my bedroom and as she threw off the cloak I saw that her bodice was ripped open; her skirt was torn; there was a bruise on her neck and her face was the colour of parchment.

  ‘Sabrina!’ I cried.

  She flung herself into my arms. She was sobbing and I could not quieten her.

  ‘Clarissa… Oh Clarissa,’ she murmured. ‘It was dreadful… dreadful… He’s dead. I didn’t do it. I swear I didn’t do it. It… it happened.’

  ‘Sabrina, my dearest, try to be calm. Tell me what happened.’

  ‘It was… that man…’

  ‘You mea… Sir Ralph?’

  She nodded. ‘It was terrible, Clarissa. I fought him and I was getting exhausted. I couldn’t hold him off… He seemed so strong… I kicked… I screamed… I fought with all my might and then… Oh, Clarissa, I didn’t do it. It wasn’t my fault. It… it just happened…’

  I went to the cupboard where Lance kept his brandy. I poured out a little and gave it to her. Her teeth were chattering so that she could not drink and her hands were shaking so that she could not hold the goblet.

  ‘Now tell me, Sabrina, tell me right from the beginning.’

  She sat staring ahead as though she were still living in the nightmare. ‘When I got into the carriage,’ she said, ‘Reggie was not there.’

  ‘I saw you go and I thought it was strange that he had not got out to help you into the carriage.’

  ‘I didn’t think much of it until I arrived at the house. A housekeeper was there but there was no sign of Reggie. She said that Sir Ralph was waiting for me and she took me up to a room. She knocked at the door. There was no answer. Then she opened the door and I went in. It was a bedroom. There was a four-poster bed… I thought the housekeeper had made a mistake and I was about to say so when the door shut behind me and I was suddenly seized. It was that man… oh, Clarissa, how can I tell you? I was so frightened. He was so strong… and he was holding me.’

  ‘My dear child, this is terrible. I should never have let you go alone. I thought Reggie was taking you.’

  ‘So did I. But that man had planned it. He was waiting for me. It was awful. He said he had always wanted me. He said it would be in the family and there should be love between father and daughter… I tried to get away. I went to the window. I think I would have jumped out if I could. But he was there behind me. He had taken off the robe he was wearing. He was naked, Clarissa. It was… horrible. He pulled me down on the bed. He tore my bodice and my skirt…’

  Again she turned to me and hid her face against me as though to shut out that terrible scene.

  ‘He said I was a vixen… but he liked vixens. He said there was more excitement when the girl was unwilling. He said horrible things… and he was leering at me all the time, licking his lips… his horrible flabby blue lips. I fought hard, Clarissa, but he was stronger than I was and I was afraid that he was going to win.’ She shuddered and shut her eyes tightly. ‘He was cursing me… and laughing at me… and tearing at my clothes—and then suddenly I felt his grip loosen. I had my hand over his mouth… shutting off those horrible lips… I could not bear the sight of them. And then… he wasn’t holding me any more. His face had gone blue and he was breathing in a noisy way. I was able to push him away from me… and he rolled off the bed and lay very still on the floor. His breathing had stopped and his eyes were wide open… staring. For a moment I couldn’t understand what had happened. Then I knew… He was dead.’

  ‘You came back home. That was all there was to do.’

  ‘But him… Clarissa. I left him there. I found this cloak. Perhaps it is his. I had to have something to cover myself up. I took it without thinking. I ran out of the house. I saw a chairman going by and he brought me here. I had just enough money still in my girdle reticule to pay him. Oh, Clarissa, what will happen?’

  ‘Nothing. You have done nothing wrong. It was his own fault. You are not responsible for his death. But are you sure he is dead? He might have fallen into a faint… or something like that.’

  ‘He was not breathing. I was sure of it. Clarissa, I was so frightened. I just ran…’

  I soothed her. ‘Let me get you out of these things. I’ll take you to your bed. I’ll get something for you to drink. Something that will soothe you. Nanny Curlew will know what is best.’

  She clung to me. ‘I could only think of you,’ she said. ‘How to get to you… How to be safe.’

  I was deeply moved. It was as though she were part of myself. I wanted it to be like that always, throughout our lives. I believed that only death could come between us.

  I spent a sleepless night. I sat with Sabrina until Nanny Curlew’s potion had had its effect and she fell into a peaceful sleep.

  When Lance came in late he was flushed with success because he had had a winning night. I was still sitting up. It was no use going to bed for I knew I should not sleep. I kept wondering what the outcome of this would be. If Sir Ralph were indeed dead there would be an enquiry and Sabrina’s name would be mentioned as the woman who was with him when he died. There might well be malicious gossip. There were always those ready to damn reputations.

  This was where Sabrina’s pity had led her.

  Lance was amazed to find me sitting up. I quickly told him what had happened.

  ‘The swine!’ he cried. ‘By Gad, if he really is dead that’s no loss to the world.’

  ‘But what of Sabrina?’

  He was thoughtful. Lance was a man who understood every facet of the social scene and I could see that he was thinking exactly as I was. There would be many to say that Sabrina had gone willingly to the house; some might say she had been his mistress and that her proposed marriage with Reggie was to make an easier situation for them. Sabrina would be notorious.

  Lance and I talked for a long time and finally Lance said he knew how to handle the matter, and this should be fairly easy as long as no one knew that Sabrina had been the woman who was present when Sir Ralph had died. As so many women had been connected with him—many of them courtesans who would have visited him for a night—there might be no involved inquiry into the identity of his companion. That was providing it could be proved that he had died of heart failure brought on by intense excitement.

  I said, ‘There was a letter from him to her asking her to call.’

  ‘We must destroy it,’ said Lance.’

  ‘I’ll get it at once.’ I knew she had left it lying on her dressing-table, for I had seen it there—without noticing it very
much—when I had helped her to bed. I went quietly to her room. She was sleeping deeply. I picked up the letter and took it back to Lance.

  He held it in the flame of a candle. We were both silent as the blue flame curled upwards.

  ‘Now,’ said Lance, ‘if no one saw her there is no evidence that she was there. No one would suspect a girl who was to marry his own son.’

  ‘Would they not?’ I asked. ‘Those who knew him might think he found the idea of making love to his daughter-in-law rather piquant.’

  ‘It won’t occur to them… unless the housekeeper who took her in recognized her.’

  ‘Wait a minute!’ I cried. ‘What of the coachmen? He sent his coach for her. They would remember her.’

  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 b
oth 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.’

  It was dawn when he left the house in the company of Jack Etherington, a friend of long standing, who was to act as his second.

  I sat at the window, waiting…waiting…

  I was there when they carried him in. He was bleeding profusely from a wound in his side. I scarcely recognized him. He looked so unlike the jaunty man I had known with the insouciant smile, who had never really taken life seriously.

  He had to take it seriously now, for I feared he was about to leave it.

  ‘I’ve sent someone for a doctor,’ said Jack Etherington. ‘We’d better get him to bed.’

  The moments seemed to drag interminably. Lance was looking at me, trying to speak. I bent my head down so that I could hear him.

  He said: ‘It was the only way. Understand, Clarissa. I was too slow. He got me first.’

  ‘The doctor will come,’ I told him. ‘You’ll be better then.’

  He smiled, and as he did so I saw the blood on his lips, and that frightened me more than seeing him lying there.

  The doctor came. He shook his head gravely. The bullet was too deeply embedded. He could not remove it. Besides, Lance had lost too much blood.

  There was no hope and there could only be an hour or two left to him.

  So Lance, the gallant gentleman, the exquisite dandy, the inveterate gambler, was dying, and his death was typical of the way he had lived. It made me bitterly angry to think of how he had thrown his life away… uselessly, unnecessarily. But that was Lance.