Philippa Carr - Song of the Siren

I did not answer.

“Come,” he said. He unlocked the door and we went out. I stood for a moment breathing in the fresh air. It was exhilarating.

“A pleasant spot,” said Hessenfield. He gripped my arm. “Ah, it is good to be out of doors again.”

We walked in silence up the slight incline and now we were facing the sea. It was calm as a lake and of a beautiful mother-of-pearl translucency.

“Sometimes I think our ship will never come,” he mused. “Or come too late for us.”

“What shall you do if it does not come?”

“If it does not come our chances are slight. With every day that passes the danger becomes more acute.” He turned to me suddenly and looked intently at me. “And each morning I have said, ‘Not today. Give me another night with my love.’ ”

“You do not deceive me. You are as eager as the others for the ship to come.”

He shook his head, and we were silent for a while.

We had come out to the path which was close to the cliff edge. There was a narrow gully leading down to the beach.

I said: “I should like to go close to the sea … to touch it.”

“Why not?” he said. “Come on.” He took my hand and we ran down the slight slope. I crouched by the water and let my hand trail in it.

“So peaceful here … so quiet,” he said. “I wish … Ah, since I met you, Carlotta, I have done little but wish things were otherwise. Do you believe me?”

I said: “We often feel something at a certain time and think it is all-important. Then life changes and we see that which was so important to us was of small significance.”

“And you think this … our encounter … is of small significance?”

“If you kill me it will be of small significance to me, for I shall be dead.”

He turned away from the sea, and, holding my arm firmly, as though I had reminded him of the need to guard me, we walked up the incline to the path.

As we reached the top I heard him catch his breath. I glanced along the path and saw why. Four horsemen were riding towards us.

Hessenfield’s grip tightened on my arm. We were too late to turn back or to hide ourselves. They would have seen us as soon as we saw them.

Now, I thought. It is my chance. This is what they feared. Oh, Hessenfield, I thought, you have made a grave mistake. You should never have left the house with me.

The tables were turned. His life was in my hands now.

Triumphantly I saw that the men were soldiers of the King’s army and it could well be that they were on the trail of the conspirators who had rescued General Langdon from the Tower.

Hessenfield pressed himself against me. It was as though he was reminding me of everything we had been to each other. He said nothing. This was no time for words.

All I had to say was: “They are holding me prisoner because I know what they have done.” And I would be free.

The men were now within calling distance.

“Good day to you,” they shouted.

“Good day,” called Hessenfield. I said “Good day” too.

The horsemen drew up and looked at us keenly. They saw an elegant country gentleman and his woman in a well-cut riding suit.

“You live hereabouts?” asked the horseman.

Hessenfield waved his hand in the direction of the house.

“Then you know the district?”

“You could say so,” said Hessenfield. I was amazed by the calmness of his voice.

“Have you seen any strangers pass this way?” asked the horseman.

“Strangers? I have noticed nothing.”

“And you my lady?”

It seemed a long silence. I heard the shriek of a gull—mocking in a melancholy way. Revenge. Your chance. They will lose their heads, every one of them.

I heard myself say: “I have seen no strangers.”

“I’m afraid neither I nor my wife can help,” said Hessenfield and there was a lighthearted joy in his voice which I thought must be apparent to them. “Is it anyone in particular you are looking for?”

“No matter,” said the horseman. “But perhaps you can tell us how far it is to Lewes.”

“Five or six miles along the road,” said Hessenfield.

They doffed their hats and bowed. We stood for a moment looking after them. Then he turned to me. He said nothing. He just took me in his arms and held me tightly.

I had shown him my true feelings for him. It was like ridding myself of a burden.

There was no longer any need to pretend.

That night it was different.

We were lovers now in truth.

“Do you realise, foolish one, that you have declared yourself for us?”

“I care nothing for your plots.”

“That makes it all the more important. Oh, Carlotta, I love you. I would have loved you if you had betrayed us. But I don’t think I was ever so happy in my life as I was that moment when you stood there and declared yourself for us.”

“For you,” I said.

“Dearest Carlotta,” he said. “My love. A week ago I did not know you, now you are here and you have changed my life.”

“You will forget me,” I said.

“As you will forget me?”

“I don’t forget easily.”

Then he kissed me and we made love with an intensity as though we had some premonition that this would be our last night together.

We found sleep impossible.

We lay awake talking. There was no barrier between us now. I had held his fate in my hands and had shown clearly that I would save him at risk to myself. Nothing could have been more explicit.

He told me of the necessity of taking the General to France.

“We are determined,” he said, “to rid the country of the imposters. The throne belongs to James Stuart and his son after him. William has no right to it. Anne is not the true heir while James lives and has a son to follow him.”

“Why should such matters be of great importance to us? William is a good king, most people agree. Why should we risk our lives just so that one person shall wear the crown instead of another?”

He laughed at me. “Women’s reasoning,” he murmured.

“And none the worse for that. In truth, reasonable reasoning.”

He ruffled my hair and kissed me.

Then he told me of the disappointment over the plot that failed and the consternation in St. Germain-en-Laye when it was discovered that General Langdon was in the Tower. “We planned carefully. It was the usual escape. Wine smuggled in … drunken guards, stolen keys. Unfortunately at the last lap it was necessary for the General to jump to freedom. The rope he used was not long enough. He crashed to the ground. Hence his injuries. We got him away by boat to a spot on the river where horses were waiting. That was how we got to the Black Boar.”

“And if you were caught …”

“Our heads would be the price we should pay.”

I touched his head—his thick light brown hair with the tawny lights in it, which was so much more becoming, I thought, than the fashionable peruke.

“Yes,” he said, “and you have saved it this day, my love. Although we should have put up a good fight if you had betrayed us. Oh, I was so proud of you, so happy for myself when you stood there and told them you had seen no strangers pass by. You hesitated, though. Just a split second. You knew you could save yourself. Yes, you could … but at my expense … perhaps the cost of my life. And then you knew what you wanted to do. Never, never shall I forget.”

He told me of the Court at St. Germain-en-Laye where the sad old King lived out his days, an exile in a strange land, deserted by his people, betrayed by the daughters he had loved so well, living on the bounty of the King of France when he should be in his own Palace of Westminster.

“But he will come back,” said Hessenfield vehemently. “There are many in the country who want him and hate the usurpers. You see what support we have. This house was put at our disposal. The people who own it are good Jacobites. They moved out with all their servants and left it in readiness for us. The owner will return in a few days to see if we are gone. If we have he and his family will return. The doctor who came to see the General is another of us. You see we are scattered throughout the country and only awaiting the call …”

“They are foolish,” I said. “No good can come of civil war. That was proved years ago.”

“We are fighting for the true King, the King Across the Water, and we shall not cease until he is back where he belongs.”

“And if the ship comes you will go back?”

“When the ship comes, Carlotta, I shall go.”

I sighed and we lay in silence for a while.

As soon as it was light he went to the window. I heard him gasp and I leapt out of bed to stand beside him.

There was the ship.

He gripped my hand. “At last … it has come,” he said. Then he turned to me. “Get dressed. Lose no time.”

I did so and when I was ready so was he.

“Come,” he said, “quickly.”

I followed him to the stables where he selected a mount for me.

I said: “You are sending me away?”

“Before the others know the ship is here.”

“Durrell would kill me,” I said.

“He thinks it the only way. You must get away from here as soon as possible. You are some twenty miles from Eyot Abbass. You can do it today. Ride on to Lewes and there ask instructions. You will say you have lost your party.”

“And you will go to France?”

He put his arms about me and held me fast.

“I had thought to take you with me. But I dare not. It is too dangerous. You must go back to your home.”

“So it is good-bye.”

“I shall come back,” he said.

I shook my head and turned away.

“Come,” he said. “There is no time to lose. I want you away from here before Durrell wakes. The first thing he would want to do is kill you.”

“You would not let him. You would save me as you did before.”

“There might come that unguarded moment. Who knows? I cannot risk it. But I tell you this, Carlotta, I shall come back.”

He led my horse out of the stables. Anxiously he looked back at the house.

He patted the horse’s flanks. Then he took my hand and kissed it and then laid it against his cheek for a few seconds holding it there.

“Farewell, my sweet Carlotta,” he said.

Then I rode on.

I did not see where I was going. I could only see his face. After a while I looked back and he had gone.

I came to a small hill and I rode up this and as there was a clump of trees there, I dismounted, tethered my horse to a tree stump and looked back.

I could still see the ship.

And as I stood there I saw a boat lowered from the side of the ship and rowed ashore. Then I saw them lifting the General into the boat.

I watched and I waited there until the boat had reached the ship and they were all on board.

Then I untethered my horse and rode on to Lewes.

The episode was over.

IT WAS DARK WHEN I arrived at Eyot Abbass. I had received instructions in Lewes and at length I had come to a road which was familiar to me.

I rode into the courtyard and one of Harriet’s grooms who was there gave a great shout when he saw me.

I called out: “Yes, I’m here. At last I have arrived.”

He rushed to help me dismount. “I must go and tell the mistress. They’ve been that worried.”

“Yes,” I said. “I’ll come with you.”

We ran into the house. I was shouting: “Harriet. Gregory. Benjie. I’m here.”

Harriet was the first to appear. She stared at me for a few moments and then she ran to me and caught me in her arms. “Oh, Carlotta,” she cried. “Wherever have you been? We’ve been worried to death. Gregory. Benjie. She’s here. Carlotta’s here.”

Benjie came running into the hall. He swept me up into his arms. There was no mistaking his joy.

Then there was Gregory—dear quiet Gregory, who might be less effusive but who was as delighted to see me as the rest.

“You’ve come alone …”

“Harriet, I’ve had such an adventure …”

“But you’re worn out. You need something to eat and your clothes …” That was Harriet.

“The grooms came here without you. They said you must have been attacked on the way from the inn to the farm where they were staying.”

“I’ll tell you all about it. I hardly know where to begin.”

“I do,” said Harriet, “with food and a wash and change. Your saddlebags arrived. I can tell you we’ve been frantic. Now you men, leave Carlotta to me, and, Gregory, go and tell them to speed up supper, but first some chicken broth for Carlotta and it is to be brought to her room.”