Changeling

“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.