The changeling

“And nothing has been right since. We had Napoleon. Then we began to be great again ... but now ... these communards ... I always hope ... So I go to France. I bring in the wine. I do England a great favor. There is no wine in the world like French wine.”

“The Germans wouldn’t agree with you.”

“The Germans!” He snapped his fingers with contempt.

“They beat you, you know,” I reminded him maliciously. “We were foolish. We did not believe in their strength. They ruined everything when they came.”

“And now we have a big power in Germany in Europe.”

“A tragedy. But one day perhaps we shall come back.”

“You mean the French aristocrats?”

“And then you will see.”

“Well, now you have connections in England. Your sister is married to one of our members of Parliament.”

He nodded. “Yes, that is good.”

“For your sister?”

“Yes, for my sister.”

I wondered if he knew of his sister’s sadness. But he would not consider that, I imagined. It would be a good marriage because Benedict Lansdon was a wealthy and rising politician with very likely a brilliant future before him. It came out that Jean Pascal had plans to marry in France. The lady in question was a member of the deposed royal family. At the moment she was of little importance but if the monarchy returned, well then Jean Pascal could find himself in a very exalted position. He was not marrying her yet though. The situation was too uncertain. He did not actually tell me this, but he did not attempt to disguise it either. Although I found him amusing, there were some aspects of his character which filled me with distrust and a certain apprehension. It was the manner in which he looked at me and some other women. It was almost with speculation and what I had begun to think of as lust. That he was a man of deep sensuality, I was sure. I had gathered that long ago, for I had seen him glance at the more attractive of the maids; but in his conversation there would be certain innuendoes which I pretended not to understand; but I fancied he was so knowledgeable about the feminine mind that he was aware that I understood very well.

He seemed to have a contempt for my innocence, for my lack of sophistication, for my youthful inexperience and I fancied he was hinting that he could initiate me into a world of pleasure and understanding.

I hoped I had shown him that I was not interested in acquiring experience through him; but he was so sure of his infinite wisdom in such matters that he believed he knew what was good for me far better than I did myself. It was an intriguing situation and I was missing Pedrek. I had only his weekly letters to compensate for his absence and I found the time passed quickly in the company of Jean Pascal.

There was always Oliver Gerson. He was amusing, witty and charming. He was not at all the functions. I think some of the more aristocratic mammas thought he was not quite worthy. However, I did see him fairly frequently and he did make it clear that he enjoyed my company.

So with my secret engagement to Pedrek, I was able to enjoy the functions without that feeling of apprehension that I was failing to become a success, which had dogged poor Morwenna and Helena during their seasons. I was able to give myself up the enjoyment of those occasions, as much as I could without spell- and of course I went with them.

The ghost in the garden

To come to Manorleigh after having been away from it for some time was an emotional experience. Memories of my mother came flooding back. I could not forget those locked rooms, untouched since her death; and there was a certain intimacy in the house which the London one lacked.

For instance, in London I used to go out with Morwenna and Helena; there had been shopping expeditions and visits to their houses and I did not see Benedict for days when he was busy at the House of Commons. Celeste had had her friends-wives of members like herself who met frequently. But in Manor Grange it was different. We all seemed closer together and I found that disconcerting.

The children were delighted to see me and for the first few days I spent my time mainly in the nursery, catching up on what had been happening during my absence. They had been progressing with their riding and I went down to the paddock to watch them. They were good enough now to leave the paddock and take to the road with a groom in attendance. They both loved their ponies dearly. Leah looked a little better than she had in London. I asked if her headaches no longer troubled her.

“Very rarely now, thank you, Miss Rebecca,” she said. “I trust you had a successful season in London.”

“Oh yes,” I told her. “Mr. Cartwright unfortunately had to leave town. He’s gone to Cornwall to a mining engineering college. We shall see him when he comes down to visit his grandparents there.”

“Are we going to Cornwall soon?”

“My grandparents are suggesting we go.”

“The children always enjoy it.”