Saraband for Two Sisters

I looked down at her. How elegant she was! Her habit was of pale gray and she wore a hat with a curling feather.

“They are here then?” She laughed as though there was something amusing about my being there.

She came up to my room and stood on the threshold, looking at me. “Angelet!” she cried as she came forward and, taking my hands, drew me to her. It was scarcely a kiss she gave me. Rather did she knock her cheek against mine-first on one side and then on the other.

“A pity your sister couldn’t come with you.” Her mouth twisted slightly and I knew then that she really would have liked to have Bersaba here. I remembered how she had taken Bastian and upset Bersaba quite a bit-although she had pretended not to be-and I thought that perhaps because of that she had a special interest in my sister. “Has there been news of Trystan?” I asked.

She shook her head. “How was she when you left?’* “Very sick.”

“Some recover,” she said. “You mustn’t brood. Where are your clothes?”

“Mab has hung them in the cupboard.”

She went there and, looking at them, groaned.

“Don’t you like them?”

“They are a little old-fashioned. You will need new things here.”

“They’re all I have.”

‘We’ll remedy that. I foresaw this so I’m prepared. Ana has already started a gown. She’ll fit you and it will be ready tomorrow. I shall take you into London and buy some fripperies for you ... a fan, some patches, and some rouge and powder. »

“Patches and powder!”

“Yes, we must subdue that blooming country complexion somehow. It will make you look such a bumpkin.”

“But... isn’t that what I am?”

“Assuredly you are. That is why we shall have to work hard to make you otherwise.”

She sat down on a chair and laughed at me.

“You look startled. You are in London-where society is smart. I can assure you it is a little different from Cornwall.”

“I am sure it is. Perhaps....”

“Perhaps what?”

“As I am so unsuitable I should go back.”

‘We’ll make you suitable. It’s just a matter of time. And you can’t go back. Your sister is ill. That’s why you’re here. I doubt your mother would ever have submitted you to the wicked ways of the world but for that.”

She laughed again and I said coldly, “I seem to amuse you. »

“Oh, you do. And you’ll amuse yourself. In a month’s time I’ll remind you of what you are like now and you’ll laugh like mad.”

“I’m sorry I’m so unsatisfactory,” I said.

“Never mind. It’s a challenge. You’ll soon grow up here. That’s the difference really.

You are young for your age.”

“I shall not be eighteen until next birthday.”

“But eighteen in your dear old Priory is not quite the same as being eighteen in the outside world. You’ll see.”

I said, “Where is your mother?”

“She is on a visit at the moment. She’ll be delighted that you’re here.

She always wanted to do something for Tamsyn’s girls and said it was a pity you were condemned to life in the country.”

“And your husband?”

“Gervaise is at Court. We have a residence close to Whitehall and I am there often.

We are not so far from Whitehall here, so it is not really like being in the country.”

“Are you happy in your marriage?”

“Life has been amusing,” she answered.

“Is that the same as being happy?”

“I assure you, my little country mouse, it is the essence of contentment.” I was uneasy. I disliked being talked down to. Bersaba would have known how to deal with the situation much better than I did. Oh, how I missed her! I was realizing more and more how much I had always turned to her when I was not sure how to act. Carlotta was aware of my discomfiture and seemed to enjoy it. “You will soon fall into our ways,” she said, “and how glad you will be that you have escaped the dull life. Now let us be practical.”

Later she showed me the house, introduced me to some of the servants, examined my wardrobe in detail, and discarded most of it. She said I would be tired after my journey, that I should retire early and tomorrow I could start my new life.

We ate together in a small room off the main hall as we did at home when we were just the family, and she talked all the time about her life, how exciting it was and how different I was going to find it, behaving all the time as though she were my benefactress.

As soon as supper was over she said I should go to my room and sleep, for she was sure I was tired out. I was certainly glad to escape.

Mab came in and helped me get to bed, but when I lay there I could not sleep. I kept thinking of how Carlotta and Senara had arrived at the Castle and how Grandfather Casvellyn had looked like an angry prophet when he had said no good would come of their return into our lives.

Now Bersaba was ill and perhaps I should never see her again. I felt bereft. We were as one. How could I go on living without her?