Drop of the Dice by Philippa Carr Page B

was told. A friend of a friend… one of those coincidences.’
    For the first time he seemed to lose that open look, and I felt my question had embarrassed him. I decided not to probe just then but to try to discover who the friend was later.
    ‘My brother sent messages from France. You know he was one of the leading Jacobites?’
    I nodded. ‘If he were alive today…’
    ‘You are going to say that he would bring the Chevalier of St George to England.’
    ‘I am sure of it.’
    ‘And you share his views?’
    He was evasive. ‘These could be dangerous times,’ was all he said. After a slight pause he went on: ‘Let me tell you what your father wrote to me about you. He said you were the most adorable child he had ever seen and he was proud of you. He loved you dearly, you know.’
    ‘Yes, I did know it. It is something one knows even at an early age. I still remember it.’
    ‘He loved your mother too. He regretted there could be no marriage. She was already married. He told me all about it. It was one of those adventures that came his way.’
    ‘And what about Aimée?’
    ‘That must have been some time before. I don’t know much about Aimée’s mother, but he must have been fond of her to give her the watch and the ring… particularly the ring. I think he must have known your mother was dying. You see, this ring is a rather special one in our family. It has always been worn by the head of the house. It has special properties.’
    ‘Does it bring good luck?’
    ‘It is not that. Here, take a look at it.’ He took the ring from his finger. I remembered it vaguely. I did not find it attractive. It was heavy gold with a stone of a nondescript colour. The setting was elaborate. ‘It meant a good deal to me to get this back,’ went on my uncle. ‘It is important to the family. When he knew that he was dying of the same fatal illness which took your mother too, he sent for Aimée’s mother and gave her the ring and his watch to bring to me with the letter. I thought we had lost the ring for ever and that because of his illness it would have been buried with him. Then when Aimée arrived with it she had brought back the Hessenfield heirloom. It convinced me that she was his daughter. I knew he would never have parted with the ring unless he was dying and could not give it to your mother. Of course, owing to the war, a long time elapsed before she was able to get here.’
    ‘When did you hear of his death?’
    ‘A few months after it happened. Our friends could not get across immediately to tell me. We heard that your mother had died too. I wondered what had become of you. I asked for news but could get none. No one knew your whereabouts.’
    ‘Jeanne, one of the maids at the hôtel, looked after me. She kept me until my Aunt Damaris—my mother’s half-sister—came to look for me.’
    ‘Yes, I know that now. But I did not then. As soon as I discovered where you were I sent my nephew to invite you to come here. I wished you had come earlier.’
    ‘I should have done so if my aunt had not been expecting a baby.’
    ‘The good Aunt Damaris. Tell me more about her. Aimée says that her mother tried to find you and failed to do so. She said that after the death of your father and mother there was chaos in the house. Of course, Aimée can only speak from hearsay. She only knows what her mother told her. It was all very mysterious to her before she had the opportunity of coming to England. It was what her mother had waited for. She wanted Aimée to present herself to her father’s family—and to bring back the ring and the watch. I suspect that she hoped Aimée would find a home over here. Aimée tells me that she had recently married and set up home with her new husband just outside Paris. I can imagine that a grown-up daughter would be rather de trop in such a household. I was touched to see how delighted Aimée was by her welcome here and when I suggested she stay as long as she liked… in fact, make