Drop of the Dice by Philippa Carr Read Free Book Online Page A

my last visit. There was no doubt that Anita and Benjie were happy. The house was more like it had been when Harriet was alive.
    It was September, a rather chilly day, for the mists had continued through the afternoon and we had not seen the sun. I had ridden over to Eversleigh Court as it was a Sunday and it became a habit for us to dine there on that day. Grandmother Priscilla was insistent that we keep up the habit. It cheered Arabella, she said, who had never really recovered from Harriet’s death, and whose health was not as robust as it had been.
    Even I could see the change in both great-grandparents. Arabella looked very sad sometimes, as though she were looking back into the past, and her eyes took on a misty look as she remembered. My great-grandfather made a show of being more irascible than before but at times he was a little unconvincing.
    I remember we had dined, and were sitting back sipping elderberry wine which had come from Arabella’s stillroom, and she and Priscilla were assessing its quality and comparing it with the last brew. Carleton was rambling on about his favourite topic—Jacobites. The fact that my father had been one of the leaders made no difference. Whenever he thought of them his face would grow a shade more purple and his eyebrows would quiver with indignation.
    I always felt a need to defend them because whenever he talked in this way it brought back vivid memories of Hessenfield. Sometimes I wondered whether Carleton knew this. He had a mischievous streak in his nature and when he was interested in young people he would tease them more persistently than if he liked them less. I would often find those bright eyes peering out from the bushy brows which seemed to have sprouted more hairs every time I saw him.
    Even now, although he was supposed to be talking to Leigh and Jeremy, his eyes were on me. He had probably noticed my rising colour and a certain flash in my eyes.
    ‘He, ha!’ he was saying. ‘“Get out,” said the King of France. Court of Saint Germain! What right has James to set up a court of his own when he’s been drummed out of the only one he could lay claim to!’
    ‘He had the permission of the King of France to do so,’ Jeremy reminded him.
    ‘The King of France! The enemy of this country! Of course he would do everything he could to irritate England.’
    ‘Naturally,’ put in Leigh. ‘Since he was at war with us.’
    ‘Was! Ah… was!’ cried Carleton. ‘Now what will happen to our little Jacobites, eh?’
    I could not bear any more. I thought of Hessenfield, brave, strong, tall. He became taller in my mind’s picture as time passed, and so had I magnified his virtues, so diminished his faults, that he had become the perfect man. There was none like him and if he had been a Jacobite then a Jacobite was a wonderful thing to be.
    ‘They are not little,’ I burst out. ‘They are tall… taller than you are.’
    Carleton stared at me. ‘Oh, are they indeed? So these traitors are a race of giants, are they?’
    ‘Yes, they are,’ I cried defiantly. ‘And they are brave and…’
    ‘Just listen to this,’ cried Carleton. His eyes opened wide so that the bushy brows shot upwards, and his jaw twitched, which usually meant he was suppressing amusement. He looked fierce, though, as he banged the table. ‘We’ve got a little Jacobite in our midst. Now, my girl, do you know what happens to Jacobites? They are hanged by the neck until they are dead. And they deserve it.’
    ‘Stop it, Carleton,’ said Arabella. ‘You’re frightening the child.’
    ‘He is not!’ I cried. ‘He just said Jacobites are little and they are not.’
    Carleton was not going to be deprived of his teasing.
    ‘We shall have to be watchful, I can see. We must make sure that she does not start a conspiracy here in Eversleigh. Why, she’ll be raising a rebellion, that’s what she’ll be doing.’
    ‘Don’t talk such nonsense,’ said Arabella. ‘Try some of these sweetmeats,