“Why?”
“Just the way of the world,” he said. “Your child is of an enquiring mind,” he added, and then suddenly I knew that what had seemed a vague possibility had become a certainty. He was no ordinary highwayman. Could I be mistaken in one with whom I had lived so closely?
The man behind the mask was Hessenfield.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“Your purse, of course. Or have you anything more to offer me?” I took my purse from my pocket and threw it on the ground.
“Is that all you have to offer? And you too, my lady?”
“My purse is in the coach,” said Harriet.
“Get it,” he said.
She obeyed. Then he came close to me.
“How dare you!” I said.
“Men such as I am dare much, my lady. ’Tis a pretty locket you are wearing.” His hands were on it, caressing my throat.
“My father gave it to her,” said Clarissa.
He snatched it suddenly. The clasp broke. He put it into his pocket.
Clarissa said: “Oh!”
I picked her up. “It’s all right, darling,” I said.
“Put the child down,” he commanded.
“I intend to protect her,” I replied.
He took her from my arms, still holding the blunderbuss. Clarissa did not know fear. I suppose it had never occurred to her that anyone would ever hurt her. She was petted and loved by all who saw her. Why should anyone in the world want to hurt charming Clarissa.
She studied him intently.
“You look funny,” she said. She touched the mask. “Can I have it?” she asked.
“Not now,” he said.
“When?”
Harriet had stepped out of the coach.
She said: “I can’t find my purse.” She gasped. “What is he doing with Clarissa?”
“Will you please put the child down?” I said. “You’re frightening her.”
“Are you frightened?” he asked.
“No,” said Clarissa.
He laughed and put her down.
“My dear ladies, cease to fret. I will call off my man and you shall go on your way in peace. Of course I have the lady’s purse and I have her locket. Have you some little token for me to remember you by, my lady?”
He had his eyes on a bracelet Harriet was wearing.
She took it off and handed it to him. He smiled and put it into his pocket.
“You’re a robber,” said Clarissa. “Are you hungry?”
Her face wrinkled in pity. One of the greatest calamities she could visualize was to be hungry. “I’ll give you the tail of my sugar mouse.”
“Will you?”
She felt in her pocket, produced the mouse and broke off the tail.
“Don’t eat it all at once or you’ll be sick,” she told him, repeating my mother.
“Thank you. I won’t. Perhaps I won’t eat it at all. I might keep it in memory of you.”
“It’ll get sticky in your pocket.”
He touched her head gently and she smiled up at him.
Then he bowed.
“I will detain you no longer, ladies, but bid you farewell.”
He picked up Clarissa and kissed her. Then he took Harriet’s hand in a very courtly manner, bowed, kissed it then kissed her lips.
It was my turn. He drew me to him; he held me fast. Then his lips were on mine.
“How dare you!” I cried.
He whispered: “I’d dare much for you, sweetheart.”
Then he laughed. “Into the coach,” he cried, “all of you.”
He gave one fleeting look through the window and was gone.
Harriet sat back in her seat and stared at me.
“What a strange adventure! I didn’t think being held up on the road was like that.”
“I doubt it ever was before and ever will be again.”
She looked at me oddly.
“A most gallant highwayman.”
“One who has taken my purse, my locket and your bracelet?”
“And the sugar mouse’s tail,” piped up Clarissa. “Though I gave him that. Do you think he’ll remember not to eat it all at once?”
The grooms were at the door, white and shaken.
“God help us, ladies,” said the driver. “They were on me before I had a chance.”
“The blunderbuss in the coach didn’t prove much use,” I said. “Have they taken anything of yours?”
“Not a thing, my lady. It was you passengers they were after robbing.”
“They didn’t take much,” I said.
“It could have been worse,” agreed Harriet. “Get back and drive on as fast as you can. We want to get to an inn before it’s dark.”
We rattled on in silence for a while. Harriet was looking at me very intently.
I shut my eyes and thought about him. He was back. How like him to have chosen this way to let me know. For I was sure he had known whose the coach was. He had meant to surprise me. I should see him again soon, I was sure of it.
I pretended to be asleep. I had to escape Harriet’s searching gaze. She had known. We had betrayed something. Or she had guessed.
Clarissa was soon fast asleep and once again I marvelled at the way in which children could accept the most extraordinary happenings as the natural course of life.
The first thing she said was: “He was nice. I liked him. Will he come again?”
“Do you mean the highwayman?” said Harriet. “Good heavens, no.”
“Why won’t he?” asked Clarissa.
Neither of us replied and Clarissa did not press for an answer.
Benjie was delighted to see us back. He said it seemed like years that we had been away. I had been thinking so much about Hessenfield since our adventures with the highwayman that my conscience worried me; and when that was the case I always tried to make up for my deficiencies by being especially affectionate to Benjie, which always delighted him. At such times I often thought what a happy lot could have been mine if I had only been of a different nature.
Benjie was horrified to hear of our adventure with the highwayman. “It’s the coach,” he said. “These people think those who ride in coaches are very rich.”
Gregory reproached himself because he had not come with us, but Harriet said perhaps it was better that he had not been there.
“He was one of those gentleman highwaymen we hear of,” she said. “He took pity on two women travelling with a child. He really dealt with us very gently. Do you agree, Carlotta?”
I said I thought she was probably right.
We had been back two nights and were in the winter parlour, a small cosy room at the back of the east wing with windows which overlooked the shrubberies.
It was dark and the candles had been lighted. Gregory remarked, as he did frequently, that the evenings were drawing in and he could notice the difference every day.
A fire burning in the grate, throwing flickering shadows over the panelled walls, and four candles guttered in their brackets on the wall. Harriet was playing the spinet and occasionally breaking into song. Gregory was sprawling contentedly in a chair watching her, and Benjie and I were playing a game of chess. It was a typical evening scene at Eyot Abbass and one I had shared many a time.
And as I sat there looking at the chessboard and deciding on my next moves, I was aware of a shadow, or it might have been some instinct which made me look up—but I did so.
Someone was outside looking in. Someone tall, wrapped in a dark cloak … and I knew who it was.
My impulse was to shout: “Someone is outside.” But I restrained myself.
What if he were caught in the grounds? If they released the dogs he might well be. He would be captured and I knew what that would mean. I had heard enough at my grandfather’s table to understand that it would be a feather in the cap of anyone who brought about his capture. We should be applauded for giving up one of the Queen’s enemies.
You fool, I thought. Why do you
play with danger? Why do you have to risk your life?
I looked away from the window and back to the chessboard.
“Your move, Carlotta,” said Benjie.
I moved a piece without thinking.
“Ha!” said Benjie triumphantly. And a few moves later: “Checkmate.”
Benjie always liked to analyse a game.
“It was that bishop’s move of yours. Till three or four moves back you were on the offensive. You lost your concentration, Carlotta.”
I thought angrily: Of course I did. How could I help it? Hessenfield has come back.
It was an hour later when I was able to slip out. I would not be missed for a little while. I had wrapped a cloak over my dress and told myself that if I were seen I would say I heard one of the dogs or something like that.
In any case I had no intention of being missed if I could help it.
He had come to see me. He might have gone by now. Even he must realise how dangerous it was to hang about here. I would tell him so if I found him.
I examined the flower bed under the window. It had quite clearly been disturbed.
I looked towards the shrubbery and as I did so I heard what could have been the call of an owl.
I stepped towards the bushes and said softly: “Is anyone there?”
“Carlotta … ?”
It was his voice. I ran forward, glancing over my shoulder as I did so to assure myself that no one was about.
I was caught in his arms and held tightly. He kissed me again and again and so fiercely that I gasped for breath.
“You fool!” I cried. “To come here. Don’t you know they will be after you?”
“Dearest, everyone is always after me … just everyone.”
“Do you want to end up with your head on a block?”
“No, on a pillow side by side with yours.”
“Will you please listen to me.”
“No. You must listen to me.”
“I will talk,” I said. “I have heard your name mentioned. You have only to be recognised and it will be the end of you.”
“Therefore we should leave as soon as possible.”
“You should indeed.”
“We. I have come back for you, Carlotta.”
“You are mad,” I said.
“Yes,” he agreed, “for you.”
“It has been years …”
“Four,” he said. “It is too long to be without you. No one else will do for me. I have learned that.”
“You did not come for me alone.”
“I mix business and pleasure.”
“You waited a long time,” I said.
“I did not know then how important you are to me.”
“I suppose you imagine that you only have to come and beckon and I shall drop everything and follow you. Do you think of yourself as some divinity and I your humble disciple?”
“What gave you such an idea? Was it because you felt that fitted the case?”
“This is nonsense. I must go. I saw you at the window. It was foolish to come here. Someone might have seen you. The dogs could have been released. I came out to warn you—that was all.”
“Carlotta, you are more beautiful than ever and you lie just as glibly. Did you enjoy our adventure on the road? You did not recognise me immediately, did you? I know just when the moment came. Then I knew … and you knew … that it was just as it had been …”
“You play such foolish jokes. You could have been caught on the road there and hanged as a thief.”
“Dear Carlotta, I live dangerously. Death is prowling round the corner all the time. He may catch up with me at some time. It is a great game I play with him. I am on such familiar terms with him that he has ceased to frighten me.”
“It would be a different matter if you were in some noisome dungeon in the Tower, I’ll swear.”
“But I am not. And I don’t intend to be. By the way, who won the chess?”
“My husband.”
“So you have been unfaithful to me, Carlotta.”
“I married him because of you,” I said.
He gripped my arm.
“I was going to have a child. It seemed the easiest way out.”
I heard him gasp. Then he said: “That enchanting creature …”
“Clarissa. Yes, you are her father.”
“Carlotta.” He almost shouted and I said: “Be quiet. Do you want to bring someone out here?”
He held me against him and put his lips to my ear. “Our child, Carlotta. My daughter. She took to me. She gave me the tail of her sugar mouse. I shall tell her that I shall keep it forever.
“It will probably melt,” I said. “And I shall certainly not tell her. I want her to forget the incident as soon as possible.”
“My daughter Clarissa, you say. I loved her on sight.”
“You love very easily, I daresay.”
“You are coming with me … both of you. I shall not rest until we are all together.”
“Do you really believe that you can uproot us like that after all this time?”
“I invariably do what I set out to,” he said.
“Not with me.”
“I did once. Ah, but you were willing, were you not? What a time that was. Do you remember when we were down there by the sea and the horseman came riding by?”
I said: “I am going in. I shall be missed.”
“Get the child and come with me.”
“You really are crazy. The child is in bed and fast asleep. Do you really think I can get her up and walk out of my husband’s house just like that?”
“It is not an impossible feat.”
“It is. It is. Go away. Go back and play with your conspirators. Go and plan your Jacobite plans. But don’t involve me in this. I am for the Queen.”
He laughed aloud. “You care nothing who is on the throne, my darling. But you do care a little, I think, who shares your life. I am going to do that. I shall not leave this country without you.”
“Good night and take my advice. Go away quickly and don’t come here again.”
I pulled myself away from him but he held me fast.
“One moment,” he said. “How can I reach you? How can I get in touch with you?”
“You cannot.”
“We must have a trysting place.”
I thought of Benjie then I said firmly: “It is over. I want to forget we ever met. It was unfortunate. You forced me to become your mistress.”
“It was the happiest time I ever knew and I did not force you.”
“That is how I see it.”
“And the result was that child. I want her, Carlotta. I want you both.”
“You did not know of her existence a few days ago.”
“I wish I had. You are coming away with me.”
“No, no, no,” I said. “I have a good husband. I intend never to deceive him again …” The word slipped out but he did not notice. I kept thinking of Benjie’s face when I had returned and how tender he had been, how unsuspecting, endowing me with qualities I did not possess and shaming me so that I felt I wanted to be as he thought me.
But I kept remembering Hessenfield and those magic moments with him; and I wanted to be taken up and carried off as I was on that other occasion.
“I might have to communicate with you suddenly,” he said. “How?”
“You can scarcely come to the house and call.”
“Is there somewhere where I can leave word?”
I said: “There is an old tree trunk at the edge of the shrubbery. We used to leave notes in it when I was a child. Come, I’ll show you.”
He followed me swiftly through the shrubbery.
“If you approach from the back,” I said, “you would stand less chance of being seen, but do not attempt to come here in daylight.”
I showed him the tree. It was an oak which had been struck by lightning years ago. It should have been cut down, people were always saying that it should be done, but it never was. I used to
call it the post box, because there was a hole in the trunk and if one put a hand in there was quite a little cavity there.
“Now go,” I begged.
“Carlotta.” He held me against him and kissed me. I felt myself weakening. It must not be. I hated myself. But my feelings would not be suppressed.
I tore myself away.
“I shall come back for you,” he whispered.
“You waste your time. Go away … quickly, and please do not come back.”
I ran through the shrubbery and back to the house. I slipped off my cloak relieved that no one had noticed my absence.
I went up to Clarissa’s room and opened the door and looked in.
I tiptoed to the bed; she was sleeping peacefully. She looked serene and beautiful.
“Is anything wrong?” It was Jane Farmer, her nursery governess, a good and efficient woman who was devoted to Clarissa without spoiling her.
“No. I just looked in to see if she was all right.”
If Jane was surprised she did not show it.
“She’s fast asleep,” she whispered. “She drops off almost immediately she’s in bed. It is because she has so much energy. She tires herself out but she’ll be full of life when she wakes up. Well, that is as it should be. She is more full of life than any child I ever knew.”
I nodded. “I won’t disturb her.”
I went quietly out. His child! I fancied she had more than a slight look of him. I was not surprised—and a little proud—that he had been so taken with her.
I was deeply disturbed. I wanted to be alone to think.
But it was impossible to be alone.
I went up to our bedroom. I had only been there a few minutes when Benjie came in.
I was at the dressing table brushing my hair and he came and stood behind me looking at it.
“Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you,” he said.
I felt sick with shame.
“You are so beautiful,” he went on. “I never saw anyone as lovely. My mother was a great beauty in her day … But you … you are the most lovely creature that ever was.”
I put up a hand and touched his. “Oh, Benjie,” I said. “I wish I were … better. I wish I were good enough for you.”
That made him laugh. He knelt down and buried his face in my lap.
I caressed his hair.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “It’s that devil … Clarissa’s father. I understand it, Carlotta. I understand it perfectly. You mustn’t blame yourself for that. You could do nothing else … You had to save yourself. Don’t think I should ever reproach you for that. Besides, there is Clarissa.”
Song of the Siren Page 24
