The Changeling (18 page)

Miss Stringer was introduced and seemed to make a good impression on Benedict and his wife as they did on her.

We were shown the nursery which was on the top floor of the house. It was simple but elegant with high-ceilinged rooms and long windows looking out on the square with the enclosed garden in the center. Miss Stringer had a room on the top floor as did Leah and the night nursery was there, too.

We left them up there and Celeste took me down to my room which was on the second floor.

“I think you first want to see the little ones … how is it?”

“Settled,” I suggested.

She nodded smiling. “This is your room.”

It was spacious and furnished with the elegance I found everywhere in the house. The colors were blue and cream; it had the long high windows and the view on the square was just as below the nursery.

She slid her hand through my arm. “I want so much that you be happy here,” she said.

“That is so kind of you.”

“Your
beau-pére …
”

“My stepfather.”

“Yes, your stepfather … he very much wish. He wants you happy here in his house.” She lifted her hands and added charmingly: “And because he want … I want.”

“That is most kind of you. I am sure everything is going to work out very well.”

She nodded. “Now I leave.” She rubbed her hands together as though washing them. “And when you …
préte …
you come down, eh? We have tea … and talk … I think that is what your stepfather want.”

“Thank you. By the way … what do I call you?”

“Celeste is my name … I will not be stepmother … oh no. I must be too young to be your
maman
… do you not think?”

“Much too young,” I assured her. “Then I shall call you Celeste.”

“That will be nice.” She went to the door and looked back at me. “I see you very soon … eh?”

“Very soon.”

She was gone and I thought: She certainly seems welcoming. I think I am going to like her.

I dined that evening with Benedict and his wife. There were just the three of us. The children were already in bed, sharing the night nursery. When I went in to say goodnight Lucie put her arms round my neck and clung to me fiercely.

“You are going to like it here,” I whispered. “And I am right below you.”

She continued to cling.

“It will be almost the same here and later on we’ll go back to Cador to stay for a while,” I assured her.

I went over to Belinda’s bed. She opened one eye and looked at me.

“Goodnight, Belinda. Sleep well.” I bent down and kissed her lightly.

“You’re going to like it here,” I repeated.

She nodded and closed her eyes.

I guessed both children were exhausted after the day’s journey and the excitement of arriving.

Leah had glided into the room.

“They will be asleep in no time,” she whispered.

The meal was served in a small room leading from the large and imposing dining room, presumably where Benedict entertained his political friends. The small room was intended to be more intimate, but I was deeply conscious of the restraint I always felt in his company.

While the fish was being served, he said: “I thought the children should stay in London for a little while, although of course Manorleigh will be so much better for them.”

“Yes,” I said. “I think Manorleigh would suit them very-well. They will have more freedom in the country.”

“Exactly.”

“There are parks here, of course, I remember …”

I stopped. He knew I would be thinking of my mother and the memory would be as painful to him as it was to me.

To my dismay I realized that Celeste had guessed the gist of the conversation. She was hurt.

I went on quickly: “They can walk in the park and feed the ducks … but the country is, of course, better. They can ride there and there is the garden. The garden at Manorleigh is a delight.”

“You must be here,” said Celeste. “There is this … how you say it? …”

“Coming out,” supplied Benedict. “The London season. Yes, Rebecca will have to be here and …” He turned to me. “… I … we … thought the children would be unhappy at first if they were deprived of your company. They have just said goodbye to your grandparents which must have been something of a wrench. Well, the fact is I thought that if you remained in London for a few weeks … then perhaps you could all go to Manorleigh for a while for you to settle them in and then you would come back to London.”

“I should think that would work out very well. They would have Leah who is very important to them.”

“She is very good,” said Celeste.

“Well you know something of her,” I said. “She was with you when she repaired the tapestries at High Tor.”

“They will soon get used to the change,” Benedict said.

I thought: Yes, they will have to. It is necessary that you have your happy family to present to your constituents.

After that, conversation was of a light nature and of so little interest to me that I have forgotten it; but I was aware of a certain tension between them, and it occurred to me that all was not well with this marriage. His relationship with her had been entirely different, but with Celeste there was a complete absence of that obsessive love. In fact I thought I detected a faintly critical attitude in his manner towards her. As for her, it was easy to see that she was besottedly in love with the man.

I tried to assess him as a man. I had been so hedged in with my own prejudices and resentment that I had not really seen him clearly. My mother had loved him. Something told me that he had been more important to her than even my noble father … though of course I had seen nothing of that relationship.

He was distinguished looking though not handsome in the manner of Adonis or Apollo. He was tall and of a commanding appearance; his features were not clearcut but they emanated strength. He was a very rich man and he exuded power and I had come to believe that power is an essential part of masculine attraction. He certainly had that.

I sensed that neither he nor Celeste was happy. There was something between them.

I daresay, I told myself, he married her because she would grace his dinner table. She was to be an asset to his political career and, just as he had acquired a family in Belinda and myself and even Lucie, he had taken a wife.

It would be interesting to watch them and discover what exactly was wrong. I despised myself for taking this attitude, but I could not help gloating a little. After all, he had spoiled my life. Why should his go smoothly?

Morwenna asked me over to the Cartwrights’ house which was not very far from Benedict’s residence.

She greeted me warmly.

I had always liked Pedrek’s mother. There was something very sweet and gentle about her; moreover she and my mother had been close friends and had shared many an adventure together.

“It is lovely to see you, Rebecca,” she said. “I am glad you have come to London. Though I must say I am a little scared about this coming out business. I’m to do it.”

“I’m glad you are.”

She laughed self-deprecatingly. “Helena would have been much better. Wife of a prominent member of the House. She brought us out, you know.”

“Yes, I did know.” I could talk about my mother more easily with Morwenna than I could with my grandmother. Morwenna and I did not mind showing our emotion when we spoke of her whereas with my grandmother we both tried to hide the intensity of our grief. “My mother often talked about it.”

“How awful I was! I was terrified … not so much of a presentation … that was over in a few seconds … just a curtsy and taking care that your train did not trip you up so that you stumbled at Her Majesty’s feet. One can imagine what consternation that would cause but there was very little danger of it. It was the parties and the balls … and the terrible fear that one was not going to get a partner. I was in agonies. Your mother did not care. But then she didn’t have to …”

I had heard it all before, but somehow with Morwenna it did not upset me. It was almost as though my mother were there with us in the Cartwright sitting room and that gave me a warm and comfortable feeling of peace.

“Helena is getting a little old now, though she is sprightly enough and Matthew is still high up in politics and a name to be reckoned with. She will help, of course, but she doesn’t feel like undertaking the whole thing.”

“What shall I have to do?”

“Well, first of all you’ll have to have some dancing lessons, singing too. Her Majesty is very interested in singing and dancing.”

“I thought she had gone into seclusion.”

“She has been for years … ever since the Prince died … but the conventions go on.”

Yes. Mama often told me about Madame Dupré who was really Miss Dappry and how she used to dragoon you both.”

“And how I was the clumsiest creature she was ever doomed to teach.”

“My mother did not say that. She said that all that was wrong was in your mind.”

“She was very wise.”

We were silent for a little while. Then Morwenna said: “You’ll get through easily. The thing is not to worry. I always felt that Mother and Pa wanted a great marriage for me … which is, after all, the purpose of the operation … and that I was going to fail them. Your mother didn’t care because her parents only wanted her to enjoy herself. Mine did too … but they just had this idea.”

I was suddenly appalled. “Of course, that is what my stepfather will expect of me!”

“But your grandparents …”

“I wasn’t thinking of them. They would want me to be happy as they did my mother, but he … that will be why he wants it. ‘The stepdaughter of Benedict Lansdon, the Member for Manorleigh, has become engaged to the Duke of … , the Earl of … , the Viscount …’ I don’t think a simple Sir would be good enough for him.”

“You mustn’t think like that. Just go in and see what happens. If you meet someone and he happens to be a duke or an earl or a viscount … well, as long as you’re in love with him … his title is of no account.”

I burst out laughing. “It will be to him.”

“This is your future happiness. That’s what is important.”

“You don’t know him, Morwenna.”

“I think I do.” She was silent for a moment, then she said: “He loved your mother dearly … and she him. She was never so close to any other man.”

“She loved my father,” I insisted. “He was a wonderful man.”

She nodded. “Justin and I have every reason to be grateful to him. It is something we shall never forget. But for him … well, you know he gave his life to save Justin’s.”

“He was a good man … a heroic man … a father to be proud of.”

She nodded. “But one does not always love people for their heroic qualities. You see, something happened between your mother and Benedict … years before. They met in Cornwall and the spark struck then. I felt theirs was the perfect marriage. And to think it ended in what should have been an additional joy for them.”

And there we were, weeping quietly, but giving comfort to each other.

Morwenna stretched for my hand and said: “We have to go on living, Rebecca. He is your stepfather. He wants to care for you.”

“He doesn’t. He wants a family because it is good for his image with the voters.”

“No … no. He wants you here. You are her daughter and that would endear you to him.”

“I am another man’s daughter. Perhaps he does not like that.”

“No … no. You must try to understand him … try to be fond of him.”

“How can you make yourself fond of people?”

“By not building up resentment against them … by not looking for their faults but by trying to see the good in them.”

I shook my head. “Where?” I asked.

“He wants to love you and Belinda. Help him.”

“I wonder what he would say if he thought
we
were helping him. He would laugh. He doesn’t need help. He thinks himself omnipotent.”

“He is not a happy man.”

I looked at her steadily. “You mean his marriage …”

“Celeste is a nice girl. I think she loves him very much.”

“He married her because he believed she would be suitable to entertain his guests.”

“I think that he mourns for your mother still. I think she is there … between those two. It is the last thing your mother would want. She loved him. She would want to see him happy. He has his demons to face, Rebecca, as you do. You should help each other. Oh dear, what am I saying? I am talking about something of which I know nothing which is a silly thing to do. Pedrek will be home from school soon. He’ll be glad to know you are in London.”

“That’s wonderful news. I missed him in Cornwall.”

“Well, school makes a difference, you know.”

“What is he going to do?”

“We’re not sure. He might go to the university. On the other hand he would like to go into business. His grandfather wants him in Cornwall naturally to take over the mine in due course, but his father thinks he needs a spell in the London office with him. We shall have to wait and see.”

“It will be wonderful to have him here.”

“You’ll see him … often, I imagine. And now, of course, we shall have to get busy. Court dress … deportment lessons … dancing. My dear Rebecca, your days from now on will be fully occupied Until we get you into that drawing room where you will have to make your curtsy … without a wobble, mind … and have become acceptable to London society.”

Then the preparations began. This was what my mother had done some twenty years before. Morwenna told me that the presentation ceremony was less formal than it had been. In the days of the Prince Consort it had been quite a different matter, with debutantes and sponsors being severely censored to make sure that their families were worthy to come into contact with the Queen.

Time was passing and it would soon be Easter. Pedrek came home for half term which was pleasant. Madame Dupré was past giving deportment and dancing lessons. Her successor was Madame Perrotte, middle-aged, black-haired and sallow skinned, who spoke in mincing tones, over-refined and very precise. I danced with her which was not very inspiring, but I did enjoy the lessons. I sang, too. My voice could naturally not compare with that of Jenny Lind but, according to Madame Perrotte, it was just passable.