The changeling

“He probably expected me to marry some great nobleman ... someone who would bring kudos to him. ‘Rebecca Mandeville, stepdaughter of rising politician Benedict Lansdon, is to marry the Duke of ...”

“Uncle Peter was like that. He always wanted such things to be noticed. Well, Benedict is his grandson. He might have the same thing in mind.” I faced my grandmother. “If ever he tried to stop us ...”

She smiled at me. “Don’t worry. We would talk him round.”

I stamped my foot in sudden rage. “It’s not his affair.”

“He might think differently.”

“I would not have it, Granny.”

“Well, don’t let’s imagine something which has not happened yet.”

“I think we were right in not telling people. We should wait until Pedrek and I are married.”

She did not answer. I knew it was something she would discuss with my grandfather later.

She changed the subject and said: “The children look well.”

“Leah turned out to be good for them.”

“She does a lot of sewing and they have beautifully embroidered dresses. She is always stitching. I think she is happy. But one can never be sure with Leah.”

“She must enjoy coming back here ... after all it was her home.”

“I think she had a bad time before she escaped.”

“There was a change in her after she went up to High Tor. It must have been strange to her to find she was more or less working for the same people. Who would have thought Benedict would have married Celeste Bourdon?”

“It was rather surprising. I think it was their connections with Cornwall which made them interested in each other in the first place.”

“I’m glad he married again. We all know how it was between him and Angelet. They were made for each other. I think he suffered terribly. I like to think of him ... settling down.”

“He hasn’t settled down.”

I told her about the locked room, the sadness of Celeste and the uneasy situation between him and Belinda.

“Belinda is very much aware of it,” I said. “It is quite wrong. But she is much better now. Miss Stringer is very good for her and Leah, of course, dotes on her. She probably lets her have too much of her own way. But what is rather nice is that she seems to be getting fond of me. Lucie is a help.”

“Dear Lucie! One would think she might be the one to develop complexes.”

“She knows of her birth. I thought it best that she should learn of it through me and not discover some other way. Belinda has a knack of finding out things and I did not want her taunting Lucie with it. Oh, they are good enough friends, but you know what children are. Lucie knows that I brought her into the household because her mother died. She does not know of course that her mother was strange and her father unknown. I said her father was dead ... as he may well be ... and that her mother lived near Cador and we had known her for a long time. She seemed content to leave it at that.”

“I am sure you will never regret insisting that we take her.”

“I had to do it, Granny. It was some compulsion.”

“You are a good sweet girl, Rebecca.

You know what a comfort you have been to us.”

“Granny, we are getting morbid again.”

“All right ... I won’t. Tell me about Belinda.”

“Christmas was good. There is a friend of my stepfather ... well, a business associate really. He came down. He’s one of those suave men ... very charming to everyone. Men of the world, I think you call them. He was particularly nice to Belinda and that made her very happy.”

“What that child needs is tenderness... special tenderness.”

“If only her father would notice her. I think that is what she wants. After all he is her father. But I notice that he avoids looking at her ... and she knows it, too. It makes her truculent, always calling attention to herself ... always wanting to be better than anyone.”

“How does Lucie react?”

“Lucie has a sunny temperament. She takes it without concern. I think she is aware that Belinda is the daughter of the house and that she is the one who is privileged to be brought into it.”

“She is a dear child.”

I agreed. “And a wonderful companion for Belinda.”

“All was for the best then. But what are we going to do about Belinda and her father?

How could we show him what he is doing to the child?”

“I don’t think he can help it. It’s a sad household, Granny. I liked it better at Manorleigh ... when he was in London. Then Celeste had to be with him and we had the house to ourselves.”

“How’s Mrs. Emery?”

“Very grand and so is Mr. E. He’s developed great dignity. They both have. I get on well with Mrs. Emery who invites me to drink a cup of her best tea ... Darjeeling ... which comes from the Strand in London, she tells me. It’s only used on special occasions and when I take tea with her that is one of them.”

“She’s a good woman and I am glad she is with you. Now, my dear, it is getting late and time for bed. I’ll see you tomorrow ... and the next day ... and the next ... and the next. Sleep well in your old bed and in the morning we’ll talk and talk. Goodnight, my darling.”

“Goodnight, Granny dear.”

It was a wonderful feeling to have come home.