Changeling

“Yes,” she murmured. Her thoughts seemed far away. I wished I knew what she was thinking but she had always struck me as being rather withdrawn … mysterious in fact.

The time arrived when we were to leave Cornwall.

My grandmother said: “It’s the best thing for you really. But we shall miss you terribly. It makes it harder for us because all of you are going. But we both agree it is for the best and it is only right that Benedict should have his daughter with him.”

“He only wants us so that he can have a family to show his constituents.”

“I don’t think that is entirely true. Try to be fair to him, Rebecca. He’s had a hard time and one thing I do know: he really loved your mother. He has lost her, don’t forget, just as you have.”

“But he is putting someone else in her place now.”

“I do not believe he will ever do that.”

I was not sure.

Leah was growing more and more uneasy as time passed. It must have been a great upheaval for her. I believed she had never been out of Cornwall before. Belinda was excited though. She kept talking of the grand house she was going to live in the big city. She was going to live with her rich and important father whom she did not like much but she would forget about him and enjoy the house.

Lucie watched me and would take her cue from me, I knew. So I tried to pretend that I found it all exciting and not give her an inkling of my feelings of disquiet.

I thought at least I should enjoy Manorleigh where I should find the Emerys, Ann and Jane who had been with us before my mother’s marriage. Moreover I had felt a certain attachment to the house … particularly the haunted garden.

In a way, although I did not want to share Benedict’s house, it was an exciting project—particularly as I was to be presented at Court.

A carriage was waiting for us at the station. Miss Springer, who had come from London, was in good spirits. She had no regrets about the move and it was obvious that she believed we were going to lead lives of much greater interest in the big city than we could in some remote country place.

Benedict and Celeste were waiting to receive us when we arrived at the house. He was quite gracious and seemed very pleased to see us. Celeste hovered in the background until he signed for her to come forward.

She had changed from the girl I had seen all those years ago. She was a young woman now. Attractive, I thought, though not exactly beautiful or even pretty; but she was dressed with elegance in a pale grey gown of what I imagined was a Parisian cut. There were pearls at her neck and in her ears. Her dark hair was beautifully dressed and she moved with becoming grace.

She came forward and took my hands.

“I am so pleased you are here,” she said with a very pronounced French accent. “I am touched that you come. You must be happy here. It is what we want … the two …” She smiled ingratiatingly at Benedict.

“Yes,” he said, returning her smile. “It is what we want. And the children …” He looked towards them. “Belinda …” She gave him a rather defiant look. “And … er … Lucie.”

I took Lucie’s hand and brought her forward.

“I hope you will like your new home,” said Celeste very carefully as though she had learned the words by heart.

I could see the children were a little fascinated by her.

She smiled at Leah. “But … we have met. You came … I remember it well.”

Leah flushed and the look of uneasiness returned. She did not seem to want to recall her stay at High Tor although, from what we have heard from Mrs. Polhenny, the Bourdons had been delighted by her work.

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?”