The Song of the Siren by Philippa Carr

Author:Philippa Carr
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Crime Passionnel

I WAS THRUST INTO an entirely new scene. At the beginning it was so bewildering that I was more or less bemused by it. In the first place I had renewed that extremely demanding, satisfying, exhilarating and incomparable life with Hessenfield. We resumed it as though it had never been interrupted; and although at first I pretended to be outraged. Hessenfield quickly put an end to that and made me admit, if not in actual words, that I was as enchanted with his company as he was with mine.

It was not unalloyed joy, of course, for it could not be quite as it had been on that first occasion. Although I cannot make any great excuses for myself and have to admit that I was secretly delighted to have been abducted, seduced, raped or whatever name I could put to it when I was trying to make a case for myself, I can honestly say that I felt a deep remorse for what I had done to Benjie and I was glad that I had left my cloak in the shrubbery, which would indicate that I had been taken by force. At least he would not believe that I had gone willingly; and although his grief would not be assuaged, at least he would not think that I had betrayed him.

Poor Benjie, he had lost both me and Clarissa, and I could not be happy because I must think of him.

The crossing was smooth and in a short time we had reached the coast of France.

Clarissa was excited by everything that was happening and, childlike, accepted this extraordinary adventure as a matter of course. She did ask once when her father and grandfather were coming with Harriet. I said evasively that we should have to wait and see.

“I want to show them my new father,” she said, and the pride in her voice both thrilled and pained me.

We had journeyed across France staying at various inns and it surprised me how well known Hessenfield was. The best rooms were always at his service and now he was travelling, as he said, enfamille he was especially determined on comfort.

The man who had rowed us to the boat travelled with us. He was Sir Henry Campion, a firm and trusted friend, Hessenfield told me. “A loyal Jacobite as you must be now, my darling, since you have joined us.”

I was silent. I wished that I could forget Benjie and the unhappiness I knew he must be feeling. I thought if it was not for Benjie I would be wildly excited now. I wished that I had not married Benjie. If I had been bold and given birth to my child and waited …

But that was absurd, of course. I had had to act as I did. I think even Hessenfield realised that.

Once he said: “I should never have let you stay. I should have taken you to France with me from the first.”

But Hessenfield was not one to look back. He had a joyous way of living each day as it came along.

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