Will You Love Me in September

"No. He couldn't bear to stop, so he staked the diamond pin in his cravat. I won it. He was wearing a signet ring with the family's crest engraved on it. Heavy, solid gold, of some value. He wanted to throw it against some possession of mine, and suddenly he said, 'That ring we saw at dinner. That's what I want. We'll play for that.' I said, 'No. That's Clarissa's ring.' He shouted, 'What's hers is yours. Come on, I want to play for the bezoar ring.' I told him the bezoar ring was priceless. I said, 'It's worth more than your signet ring, Eddy, and you know it.' "He said, 'All right. My country house for the bezoar ring.' Everyone had become excited because of the unusual stakes. We were urged on. Someone said Eddy was crazy.

A house for a ring! Aimee was sitting beside Eddy, urging him on. She loves a gamble, that girl ...”

Lance's eyes were shining, the excitement still with him.

"So you gambled with my ring," I said.

"Yes," he answered soberly.

"And you lost.”

He was silent.

"Lance," I cried, "are you telling me that my bezoar ring has gone to Eddy Moreton!”

He looked shamefaced. "I'll get it back," he said.

It was rarely that I was angry with Lance, but I was then. I had always deplored his reckless gambling, but that he should have risked something which was mine filled me with rage. I was as furious as I had been on that occasion when he had used my money to buy shares in the South Sea Company without consulting me. I was tired, and this was the last straw.

"How dare you!" I cried. "It's tantamount to stealing. What right have you? Risk your own goods if you want to be so foolish ... but leave mine alone.”

"I will find another ring, I promise you. I will get you that one back. Clarissa, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me. But you must try to imagine what it was like down there. The excitement of it ... the different type of bet. It was momentarily ... irresistible.”

"It's despicable," I said.

"Oh, Clarissa," he murmured. He came to the bed and tried to put his arms about me.

I pushed him aside.

"I am tired of your incessant gambling," I said. "I don't know the state of your affairs, but it wouldn't surprise me if they're in a bad state. You are so foolish ... like a child who can't say no, even when it comes to taking what is not yours.

I do not forget what you did with my money in the South Sea Company.”

"And look what I made for you.”

"You did not make it. I made it by my good sense in putting an end to the gamble.

I forgave you that, but this is too much. The ring was my special property.”

"You did not seem to care so much when you lost it before.”

"I cared deeply.”

"That was because Jeanne stole it.”

"You are as bad as Jeanne. You have stolen it, too. I see no difference in you. She at least had the sense to steal it for a sensible purpose. You ... just satisfy your lust for gambling.”

"Clarissa, I swear I'll get it back.”

"Yes," I retorted. "Stake the house against it-all you possess. You might lose that too. Stake me, perhaps. Please go away now. I'm tired and I want to be alone.”

He tried once more to cajole me, sitting on the bed, looking at me with wistful appeal, bringing out all his considerable charm, but I wanted him to know how deeply upset I was and that I no longer accepted this gambling when he so wantonly risked what was mine. I could not and would not forgive him for taking my bezoar ring.

Lance had always hated trouble and escaped from it as soon as possible, and when he saw that I was adamant, he did that now.

He sadly rose from the bed and opened the door of the powder closet. He would go there and spend the night on that uncomfortable couch, hoping that I would soften toward him.

I stayed in bed next day, for I was feeling unwell. My condition, together with last night's shock, had upset me so much that I felt too ill to get up. Moreover, I wanted to shut myself away, to consider Lance and my feelings for him.

I loved him in a way. His charm was undeniable. He was always gracious and kind, and very popular in society, and there had been many an occasion when I had felt proud to be his wife. And yet sometimes-and this was particularly when the gambling fever was on him-I felt I did not know him. I thought of Elvira. How deeply did his feelings ever go? He must have been fond of her, albeit in a lighthearted way. Why had he not married her? I suppose because she would not have been a suitable wife, so their relationship had been a casual one. I was a suitable wife. Why? Because I came from a good family background-or because I had a fortune? Had that been the reason?

I was thinking now of Dickon. Our relationship had been strong and firm in spite of the fact that everything was against it. It had been young and innocent and beautiful even though the feud between our families was as fierce as that between the Montagues and Capulets. I wandered back to the old familiar theme. What would have happened to us if Dickon had not been sent away, and I dreamed of an ideal.

It was then that I felt that life had cheated me.