Changeling

“Would you like to see us jump?” went on Belinda. “We go very high now.”

“Oh really, Belinda,” I said with a laugh. “Mr. Gerson won’t have time for that.”

“I have time.” He smiled at Belinda. “And my greatest desire at this moment is to see Miss Belinda take the jump with her pony.”

“Will you wait until we get into our riding things?” asked Belinda excitedly.

“Until the end of time,” he told her.

“You say such funny things. Come on, Lucie.” She turned back to him. “Stay there till we come. Don’t go away.”

“Wild horses could not drag me away.”

They ran off and I looked at him in astonishment. He smiled at me half apologetically. “They were so charmingly eager,” he said. “What a bright creature Miss Belinda is.”

“Sometimes we feel a little too bright.”

“The other one is charming, too. She is the foundling … is she not?”

“We don’t mention it.”

“Forgive me. I am a close friend of Benedict’s and I know the circumstances. I have so long wanted to meet his family and this is a great occasion for me.”

“I am surprised that you did not know he is in London.”

He had a way of lifting one eyebrow when he smiled.

“Will you forgive me? I did know. I wanted an opportunity to meet his stepdaughter in private, so that when we meet at those functions which you as a young lady who has passed the royal test will be attending, I should already have had the pleasure of your acquaintance.”

“Why should you bother?”

“I thought it would be more amusing. At those dances and such like functions conversation is not always easy. I wanted to get to know you away from them. You must pardon my forwardness.”

“Well, at least you have been frank and there is really nothing to pardon.”

“May I say that I have rarely spent such an agreeable afternoon?”

He had such a convincing manner that I almost believed him. His presence in any case had given an interest to the afternoon.

The girls appeared, flushed and excited.

“Do we have to have a groom?” asked Lucie.

“I think you should. Let’s go and see who is in the stables.”

“We don’t need a groom,” said Belinda impatiently. “We can do without him. We can ride now. Grooms are for little children.”

“I know you are fast leaving childhood behind and are vastly experienced but the rule is that a groom must be present and we must keep to it.”

“It’s nonsense,” said Belinda.

“Don’t flout authority, Belinda,” I said, “or Mr. Gerson will think you are a rebel.”

“Will you?” she asked. “And am I?”

“The answers are Yes and Yes again. Do you believe I am right?”

She skipped round him. “You’re a rebel. You’re a rebel,” she chanted.

“Do I so betray myself to those clear young eyes?”

It was obvious that Belinda was enchanted by Mr. Gerson. I was afraid she would try to do something rash to impress him.

We stood side by side in the paddock, watching them taking their jumps, under the guidance of Jim Taylor.

“What a charming domestic scene,” said Oliver Gerson. “I cannot remember when I enjoyed an afternoon so much.”

Afterwards I took the children back to the house.

“Leah will be wondering what has become of you.” I told them.

“Oh, she’s got one of her silly old headaches,” said Belinda.

“You will see that Miss Belinda Lansdon is not of a very sympathetic nature,” I said to Oliver Gerson.

“Miss Belinda Lansdon is a young lady of strong opinions,” he replied, “nor does she hesitate to express them.”

He did not come into the house. He said he had to get back to London; he had business to deal with.

After he had gone Lucie said to me: “I think Belinda liked him a lot … and I think he liked you.”

I replied: “He is the sort of person who appears to like people … that is on the surface. In fact, he might have entirely different feelings about them.”

“That’s called deceit,” said Lucie.

“Often,” I answered, “it is called charm.”

It was time for me to return to London. The children said a regretful goodbye to me, but I felt that they were happy enough at Manor Grange. In the short time we had been there it had become home to them and it was true that a house in the country was more suitable to their needs than the splendid London residence could be.

Morwenna was waiting for me. There was a great deal to press into a short time, she said. We must go to the dressmaker to make sure everything fitted; moreover Madame Perrotte would be coming until the very last day. She was a little worried about my curtsy.

There followed a week of intensive action and then the great day dawned.

I set out in the carriage with Morwenna and Helena and as was the custom we were inspected by the curious eyes of passers by. It was quite an ordeal. At last we were in the royal drawing room and there was the Queen, a diminutive figure, with an expression of gloom and an air of aloofness which was rather disconcerting.