Will You Love Me in September

Lance was delighted. I had rarely seen him so enthusiastic about anything except gambling. A child at last! It was wonderful news. I could see that he was planning for a boy. I wondered whether he would take a gamble on it, and it would not have surprised me in the least if he did. As for myself, I would be content with either sex. All I wanted was my own child.

Aimee said, "My mother is so delighted. She loves babies. The only thing that saddens her is that she will not be here to see the child born.”

"Perhaps we can persuade her to stay till then.”

"Clarissa, would you really! You would have a hard task persuading her, because she feels she is imposing.”

"Oh, what nonsense! This is a big household. Besides, look what she does for me.

She is never idle, and now that Jeanne has gone ...”

"You still think about her, don't you, Clarissa?" "She was a true friend ... I always thought." "Alas, that you can be so mistaken in people." It was at length agreed that Aimee's mother should stay until the baby was born.

"I am sure you will be useful," I told her, to make her feel she was not imposing on our hospitality.

"Well, if there is anything I can do to help, so gladly will I do it.”

My great pleasure was planning for the baby and talking of it with Lance. I think he lost a little of his desire to gamble, even, in contemplating the arrival of the baby.

"Perhaps we shall have a big family after all, Clarissa, eh?" he said.

"I should like ten children," I replied. Lance laughed. "Let's get one first, to begin with." Those were happy days. Often I found myself thinking how much Jeanne would have enjoyed this. Then I would remember and disbelief would sweep over me.

I was constantly shopping during those first two months after my baby's conception.

I bought laces and ribbons and soft white materials. I would take the carriage and go into the heart of the city. There I would leave the carriage and do my shopping, telling the coachman where to pick me up. Sometimes I was accompanied by Aimee or her mother; on occasions I took Sabrina. She enjoyed it, but I was always on tenterhooks that something might catch her fancy and she would slip away. I was terrified thinking of what might become of Sabrina. So I only took her when there was someone else with me.

I found that I enjoyed being alone; then I could wander where I wished as long as I remembered where to meet the carriage.

I loved to wend my way among the street vendors-past stalls full of apples and tarts, past the men selling hot gingerbread, or watercress, or doormats, past the chair menders repairing chairs on the cobbles.

Usually, different traders kept to certain streets. There were fishmongers in Fish Street Hill, booksellers in Little Britain, and barbers everywhere, for wigs were constantly worn by all and sundry and they needed frequent curling and powdering.

I loved to see the man they called the Flying Barber who hurried through the streets calling to those who wanted a shave. He carried his hot water and razors with him and did his work there in the street under the eyes of the passersby.

Nowhere in the world could there have been scenes of greater interest and vitality.

At least so it seemed to me, who had been bred in the country.

I felt stimulated by moving among those people, and the fact that I must cling tightly to my purse only added to the excitement of the adventure.

I was passing the jeweler's shop which always had a fascination for me because I loved to see those sparkling gems displayed on dark velvet. There were bars across the window, and I always wondered how soundly the jeweler slept in the gabled rooms above his shop.

I paused, and it immediately caught my eye. I stopped and stared. Lying there in the center of the shop window was my bezoar ring.

It could not be mine. But could it be? Mine had had an unusual setting. After all, it had been a royal ring-according to legend. I could have sworn that that was my ring.

On impulse I went into the shop. As I stepped down, a bell tinkled to warn the shopkeeper that someone had come in.

He rose from the counter.

"Good day to you, my lady," he said.

I returned his greeting. "You have a bezoar ring in the window," I said.

"Oh, yes. You recognized it for a bezoar, did you? They are not very common.”

"I know. May I see it?”

"With pleasure. Allow me." He brought it out of the window and I took it in my hand.

I saw the initial inside. It was identical with the one Lord Hessenfield had given me.

"I had one-exactly like this," I said.

He shook his head. "I would say this is unique. I have seen other bezoar rings. At one time kings and queens all had them but those of lesser rank too. This is a special one. It belonged to Queen Elizabeth, who bestowed it on a courtier. You see the initial E inside.”

I was sure now. I turned it over and asked the price. I was surprised at its value.

I said, "May I ask how this came into your possession?”