Philippa Carr - The love child

I went out into the open. I could see two men with the dogs walking along the beach. One of them picked up a pebble and threw it from him. The dogs chased after it to retrieve it.

The scare was over, but something had happened.

Jocelyn took my hand and kissed it.

“Now you understand,” he said.

I had turned away to look at the sea, grey with white frills on the edge of the waves and the wind carrying the spray far up onto the beach.

I said: “I understand how dangerous it is here. Leigh will come back soon.”

“I shall have to go away then.”

“It may be to Aunt Harriet’s.”

“You visit her often?”

“Oh, yes. I am a favourite of hers.”

“I shouldn’t want to go if it meant not seeing you.”

“You must go where you will be safe.”

He kissed me suddenly. “It has been a great adventure,” he said.

“It is not over yet,” I warned.

“Let’s sit down close and talk.”

We sat on the shingle and he said: “I wish you were older.”

“What if I were?”

“We could marry.”

“They would say I am too young.”

“People marry young. When all this is over I shall ask your parents for your hand. May I?”

“Could I stop you?”

“No, I don’t suppose you could. But I should want your consent, shouldn’t I?”

“I know some people who have been married without their consent.”

“You never would be. You would find some way out of an undesirable alliance, I am sure. Oh, Priscilla, I believe you have some feeling for me.”

“Yes, I have.”

“And it doesn’t displease you that I talk like this. You seem content to listen.”

“At the moment I can’t think of much else but your lucky escape.”

“Those people with the dogs …” He shivered.

“I was terribly frightened, Jocelyn, weren’t you?”

He was silent for a while, then he said: “I thought they had come to take me, yes. I thought it was the end. When they took my father and in a short time had murdered him—they called it execution, I call it murder—something happened to me. It was almost as though I felt there was no sense in working against fate. As I lay there with you in my arms, I thought: This is the end. But before I die I shall have known Priscilla and it was all this which brought me to her. You see, it is a sort of acceptance of fate.”

“You are philosophical.”

“Perhaps. If I am to die then die I must, but if fate is kind to me and preserves me from this, then I can think of my future and I want you to share it with me, Priscilla.”

“You scarcely know me.”

“In circumstances like this acquaintance ripens very quickly into friendship and friendship into love. You have risked a great deal for me.”

“So have the others.”

“But I prize what you have done most. Whatever happens I have had those moments with you in the cave when you lay close to me and your heart beat with fear … for me. I shall remember that moment forever and I should not have had it but for the fear which went with it. Most things that are worth having have to be paid for.”

“You are indeed a philosopher.”

“Events make us what we are. I know that I shall love you until I die. Priscilla, when this is over …”

I felt in an exalted mood. Too much had happened in such a short time. That fearful experience and then a proposal of marriage. And I was fourteen years old! I was regarded as a child in my home—Edwin’s little sister. And that was how Leigh thought of me, too. Little sister! That had rankled coming from him.

“Priscilla …” Jocelyn was saying, “will you remember this … forever? Shall we plight our troth here on this desolate beach?”

I smiled at him. He was so handsome and melancholy in a way—a young man to whom brutal life had been revealed and it had made him accept it instead of rebelling against it. I admired him, and when he kissed me I was aware of an excitement which I had never felt before.

It was so comforting to be loved. Moreover, he did not regard me as a child, I thought to myself, and it was as though I were talking to Leigh.

“Jocelyn,” I replied, “I think I love you, too. I know that if they really had been looking for you and had taken you, I should have been more unhappy than I have ever been before.”

“It’s love, my dearest Priscilla,” he said, “and it will grow and grow and wrap itself about us for the rest of our lives.”

So we kissed and plighted our troth, as they say. He gave me the ring he was wearing on his little finger. It was gold with a stone of lapis lazuli. It was big and would only stay on my middle finger and even then was in danger of slipping off.

It was hard to leave him then, but I knew that I must if I were going to get back before dark.

He was reluctant to let me go but I reminded him that we must be more careful than ever now.

“Do not have the lantern lighted when you sleep,” I warned. “It could guide people to you. Oh, do be careful, Jocelyn.”

“I will,” he assured me. “I have the future to think of now.”

Leigh came back that evening.

We were all overcome with joy at the sight of him and the news was good.

He told us about it as we sat over supper in the winter parlour after the servants had all gone away. Even so he spoke in whispers and warned us to do the same, and every now and then went to the door to make sure that no one was near.

“Harriet says she will have him,” he told us. “He is to be John Frisby whose mother acted with her, and whom she knew as a child actor himself when she played in London. He can stay there for as long as he likes. She’ll brief him when he arrives and make sure that if any other actors come visiting her, he will be warned about them. She’s excited. She was excited right from the beginning of the prospect. She said she was getting a little tired of being in the country, but now it would be as good as a play. I’m going off now to see him. I shall have to get a horse for him somewhere. In fact I have one at a horse dealer’s … Shoulden way. I can collect it tonight and take it down to him. I want him on his way.”

“Do we need food?” asked Christabel. “They are getting a little suspicious in the kitchen.”

“No,” said Leigh. “He’ll have money and he can feed himself during the journey. Soon after he’ll be with Harriet. All he wants is the horse and directions how to get there. I think our part of the plot is almost over.”

I told him about the people and the dogs and how terrified we had been—but I did not mention our conversation and its result.

“Yes,” said Edwin. “I guessed it would be tricky there for more than a night or two. It will be a relief when he is with Harriet.”

We were all rather subdued, and as soon as supper was over Leigh went out again. I overheard one of the servants say: “Master Leigh’s no sooner in than out.”

“He’s got his lady to see to. She’s been without while he’s been with his mother.”

“If it’s her I think it is she wouldn’t have been without altogether … only without Master Leigh.”

There followed giggles which annoyed me. But I had to curb my irritation. I wanted to say: It is not a mistress he is visiting tonight. But how foolish that would be. Leigh’s reputation had served us well during this affair, but at the same time I felt irritated that he had it—and more so because I was well aware that he deserved it.

I was watching at my window for his return. It must have been an hour or so after midnight when he came in. I had to know what had happened. I slipped on a cloak over my nightdress, put on slippers and ran down to the hall. He came in quietly. The moon—now waning—gave a little light through the tall, narrow windows.

“Leigh!”

“So it’s you.”

“I had to know.”

“All’s well,” he said. “I got the horse and he’s now on his way. If he’s careful there shouldn’t be any mishaps. He’s assumed his new identity—onetime child actor, John Frisby, on his way to see his old friend, Lady Stevens, who played with him in the past. Once he’s in Harriet’s charge all will be well.”

“Thank God,” I said fervently.

I had put up my hand to hold my cloak about me, and Leigh said: “You have a new ring. I haven’t seen that before. It looks like a signet ring and it’s too big for your hand.”

I hesitated, then I said: “Jocelyn gave it to me after … after the scare.”

“Jocelyn! May I see it?”

I took it off and showed it to him.

“It’s a signet. That’s the Frintons’ crest. You can’t wear that.”

“Why not? I want to.” I snatched it from him. “He gave it to me.”

“Then he must be mad, the careless fool! What if it were discovered with you! Don’t you understand? People would want to know how you came by it. And what would your answer be then, eh? Tell me that?”

“I should say it was given to me.”

“When? How? By whom? That’s what you’d be asked and what would you say? By Jocelyn Frinton when we helped him to escape! Give it to me.”

“Certainly not. It’s mine.”

“I only have to be away for a short while and people start acting senselessly. He had no right to give it to you.”

“He has every right to do what he likes with his own property.”

“Not when it means implicating you who have helped him. Give it to me. I’ll return it to him and let him know what I think of him.”

“I shall keep it,” I retorted. “Don’t be afraid. I do see the point. I won’t wear it.”

“It looks ridiculous on your finger anyway and everyone would notice it.”

“I’ll put it away.”

“In a hiding place, please. How foolish of him! What did he want to give you a gift for! And such a one! He must have been mad. Both of you must have been mad.”

I was silent. Perhaps it could be called a moment of madness. We had both been overwrought. I was sure Jocelyn would not have spoken as he had if those men with their dogs had not come along and brought such fear with them.

I gripped the ring tightly in my hands.

“Well, be careful,” he said. “There’s too much gossip and prying in a houseful of servants.”

“I’ll be careful, Leigh. I really will be. I’m glad you made me see it. I’ll hide it right away. You know I would do anything … anything for his safety.”

“He’s a pleasant young fellow, I agree. I wonder what Harriet will make of him.” He smiled, thinking of his fascinating mother.

“Time you were in bed,” he said. “Heave a sigh of relief. Our dangerous adventure is over.”

But of course it wasn’t. It was only just beginning.

WE WERE ALL IMMENSELY relieved at Jocelyn’s departure, for my mother had written that she and my father were preparing to return and we were certain that one of them at least would have discovered that something unusual was taking place.

Carl had been warned to be careful of what he said, but in any case the adventure was over as far as he was concerned and his entire attention was now focused on a new falcon he had acquired and which one of the gamekeepers was helping him to train. Carl’s conversation consisted of nothing but this bird.

Leigh showed us a letter he had received from Harriet.

All was well at Eyot Abbas, she wrote. She had had to postpone the visit to town which she and Gregory had been contemplating. Benjie was in good spirits. He had taken quite a fancy to a visitor they had staying with them—a man with whom she had acted years ago. He was quite young, having taken child’s parts naturally, and he had never really made the grade as an adult actor, poor fellow. But he was quite amusing and it was fun to have him. He fitted quite well into the household and she was not sure how long he could stay with them. She was happy to have him, for Leigh knew how much she liked visitors when they were in the country. Gregory had had a slight cold and was saying when were some of you coming to see us? …

Leigh patted the letter, well pleased. “You can trust her to enter into the spirit of the thing.”

Christabel came to my room that night. She looked excited and quite beautiful.

“I wanted to talk to you, Priscilla,” she said. “I’m sorry to come at this time but I wanted to be sure of our being alone. Do you mind?”

“Of course not,” I said. “Come in.”

She sat down. “I noticed the ring you were wearing,” she told me. “What happened to it?”

“Leigh made me hide it away.” I did not tell her that when I wore bodices with high necks I wore it on a chain hidden from sight.