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Authors: Philippa Carr

The Changeling (38 page)

BOOK: The Changeling
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The letter dropped from my hands. Gone away! To Australia! As my parents had in search of gold. My grandmother had gone there too and met tragedy … and now Pedrek had left to look for tin and get away from a situation which had become intolerable.

Who would have believed that in such a short time life could change so drastically?

I should have written to him before. I should have told him that I loved him and would go on doing so no matter what had happened.

But it was too late now.

He continued to haunt my thoughts. Where was he now? Had he left Cornwall? I could imagine the heartrending farewell between him and his grandparents.

Morwenna came to see me. She was distraught.

“What does all this mean between you and Pedrek?” she demanded.

“We decided we couldn’t marry … for a while.”

“But why? You were so happy … so looking forward to it … why, you had almost got the house.”

“I know … but it changed. We realized that we had made a mistake and it would be wrong to … to er … rush into it.”

“I can’t believe it.”

I looked at her sadly. I could not explain to her. I could not show her how bewildered and unhappy I was. She and his father would be completely shocked if they knew.

So I let them think that I was fickle. They could not believe that it was Pedrek who had changed his mind.

And now he was going to Australia … the home of his birth. I could see the fear in Morwenna’s eyes; her attitude had changed towards me. She was cold and withdrawn.

But I could not tell her. The terrible event at the pool had resulted in misery in all directions.

Mrs. Emery said: “I don’t know what’s the matter with Mrs. Cartwright. She seems changed. It’s because her son’s going out to Australia, I suppose.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” I said.

She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. They had all guessed that there had been an understanding between Pedrek and me and knew that this was so no longer.

“These matters are for them they belong to,” was her judicial summing up. “It’s for them to decide and nobody else’s business.” She looked at me almost tenderly. “And you’ve got to take a bit of care of yourself. We don’t want you ill, Miss Rebecca.”

“I’ll take care,” I promised.

I imagined how they all discussed the matter round the kitchen table and conjured up reasons for my wan looks.

There were times when I almost walked out of the house and took the train to Cornwall that I might see him before he left and urge him not to go …to tell him that no matter what had happened I wanted to be with him.

Would he accept that? He would not want me to say “no matter what.” He wanted me to have the utmost belief in his innocence. This I instinctively knew would be his terms.

I loved Pedrek. I knew now how much. But I had grown up. I had discovered lust in the bedroom at High Tor and I knew men could change when that lustful urge was upon them. I had learned that it takes a long time to know people and I was asking myself, Did I know Pedrek? Did I know every aspect of him?

The fact of the matter was that I could not be sure. And what he was asking from me was absolute belief in his innocence.

It was an impasse. I hesitated … and so he would go to Australia.

There he would try to forget me … and I must try to forget him.

Blackmail

A
N AIR OF EXCITEMENT
pervaded the house. I often had talks with Mrs. Emery and found it comforting to sit in her room and chat desultorily about little matters of the household and to drink a cup of tea from one of her special cups.

She was aware of a great deal of what was going on.

One day she said: “Mr. Lansdon is especially busy these days. Emery and me … well, we’re interested in politics … and we’re keeping our fingers crossed for Mr. Lansdon.”

“Oh … why?”

“Well, there’s this Cabinet reshuffle, isn’t there? And since his party’s in … who knows? I reckon Mr. Lansdon’s made for some high post. Emery thinks the Home Office.”

“Does Mr. Emery think that Mr. Gladstone will stay in power?”

“Oh yes. The Conservatives are not the same now that that Mr. Disraeli’s lost his wife. I reckon a man wants a woman behind him.”

“I’m not so sure. He did some important things
after
her death. It may be that he’s devoted everything to politics now she has gone. What about his getting control in the Suez Canal and proclaiming the Queen Empress of India and cleverly averting war with the Russians and bringing Cyprus into the Empire? He did all that after his wife died.”

“Yes, but he was never a happy man since and a man needs to have a happy home life. There’s Mr. Lansdon …” She shook her head sadly.

I thought: They know everything about us. They know that Benedict does not love Celeste and that he still mourns for my mother, and that I have come back from Cornwall sad and troubled because my engagement to Pedrek is broken. All these things they know of us and they discuss them at meal times when they are all round the table together. No, Mrs. Emery would not allow that. It would be between herself and Mr. Emery when they were alone in their room. But the servants would be all eagerness to learn; they would listen at every opportunity; they would watch; they would garner their information and compare with each other; then they would doubtless draw their garbled conclusions.

“It’s no good looking back,” said Mrs. Emery. “Your dear mother is dead and gone and more’s the pity. If she were here … how different everything would be. The present Mrs. Lansdon … she tries. She could be good for him … if he’d let her be. But he keeps looking back.”

“Perhaps in time.”

“Time. That’s what saves us all. No use nursing your troubles, Miss Rebecca. That’s what I always say … and it will be wonderful for Mr. Lansdon if he gets a post in the Cabinet. Emery and me … well … we’ll be that pleased.”

“Yes,” I said. “I wish …”

She looked at me expectantly but I did not finish.

She was silent. She was a very understanding woman and I think she had the good of the family at heart. She really would like to see Benedict in the Cabinet and happy in his domestic as well as public life; she would like to see me recovered from my wounds and happily engaged to a suitable someone.

She and Emery wanted to have a happy as well as a successful household over which to rule in the lower regions.

Benedict was in London and Celeste with him. Oliver Gerson came down once or twice but his stays were brief. He told me that Mr. Lansdon was so busy in the House that business matters were left to him.

I was pleased to hear Belinda’s laughter. She really seemed to have forgotten. Leah said she never referred to it now and that she slept peacefully and was her old self.

When I went to the children’s room to say goodnight she suddenly put her arms round my neck and hugged me tightly.

“I love you, dear darling sister Rebecca.”

Such expressions of affection from Belinda were rare and made me very happy.

I went over to Lucie’s bed. She hugged me too. But then she often did. “I love you too, Rebecca,” she said.

I was very comforted.

It was a few days later in the early afternoon, a time when the household was usually quiet. Mrs. Emery returned to her room to—as she said—put her feet up for five minutes. I don’t know what Mr. Emery did—probably took a nap in the Emery bedroom. The house had a somnolent air.

I was going upstairs and as I passed the locked room, I thought I heard a sound. I went quietly to the door and stood there for a few moments … listening.

I felt a tingling sensation in my back. Benedict was in London. Mrs. Emery was in her room, and I knew that someone was behind that locked door.

It was so much my mother’s room … her brushes, her mirror … her clothes … just as she had left it. I must be mistaken. I stood very still … listening. And then came the faint rustling sound.

I was trembling. Did the dead really return? Once I had had the feeling that my mother came back to me. That was when I had fancied that she had wanted me to take in Lucie. Fancy? Imagination? I had always had a vivid one. I had been intrigued by the story of Lady Flamstead who had returned to comfort the child whom she had never seen. Perhaps if people left especially loved ones behind they had to come back. My mother had left Benedict and she had left me. I knew how deeply she had loved him and I had been the center of her life until she married him.

These thoughts flashed into my mind as I stood there, tingling with excitement and apprehension.

I took the handle of the door and turned it very quietly. The door was locked. Yet … someone was in there.

I stood for a few more seconds and then I went very quietly along to Mrs. Emery’s room.

I knocked. There was no answer for a few moments and then she said sleepily: “Who’s there?”

I went in. She was dozing by the fire and was startled to see me.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mrs. Emery, but I think there is someone in the locked room.”

She continued to look bemused and was clearly not yet awakened from her doze.

“Locked room …” she repeated.

“Yes. I distinctly heard someone there.”

She was recovering herself. “Oh no, Miss Rebecca. You must have fancied it. Unless Mr. Lansdon’s come home unexpectedly and none of us heard he had.”

“I can hardly believe that. Have you got your key?”

She jumped up, looked alarmed, and went to a drawer, opened it and held up the key in triumph.

“Then it must be Mr. Lansdon. But I tried the door and it was locked.”

“You didn’t speak to him, did you? He wouldn’t have liked that. He wouldn’t have wanted to be disturbed.”

“No, I did not. I was very quiet. I can’t believe he was in there.”

“I’ll go up to his room and see if his things are there. But we should have heard him if he’d come from London. There would have been the carriage from the station and all that bustle. There always is.”

“Let’s go at once, Mrs. Emery. Bring the key. Let’s go into the room. Someone may have broken in.”

She nodded grimly. But first we went to Benedict’s room. There was no sign of his arrival.

Mrs. Emery was looking uneasy.

“I must assure myself that there is no one there, Mrs. Emery,” I said.

“All right then, Miss Rebecca.”

We went to the room and she unlocked the door. I caught my breath in amazement. Oliver Gerson was sitting at a little bureau near the window. There was a tin box at his feet and it looked as though he were going through some papers.

He stood up and stared at us.

“So …” I stammered. “It was you …”

“Miss Rebecca …” He looked a little startled for the moment. I fancied he had paled beneath his bronzed skin.

I said: “What are you doing here? No one is supposed to come here. How did you get in?”

He smiled at me and then he was the charming easy-going Oliver Gerson. He put his hand in his pocket and held up a key.

“But there are only two. Mrs. Emery has one.”

“This is the other,” he said.

“Mr. Lansdon’s? So he gave it to you.”

“I came to get some papers and take them back to him.”

“Papers?” I said. “But this was my mother’s room.”

“He keeps some papers here … rather special papers. He wanted me to find them and take them to him.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling deflated.

Mrs. Emery looked very relieved.

“You look really scared,” he said. “Did you think I was a ghost?”

Mrs. Emery said: “Mr. Lansdon always wanted the room locked. He was the only one who went in … bar me to clear. I wonder he didn’t say.”

“Oh, he didn’t think it was important. He knew my coming would not excite much curiosity. As a matter of fact I have nearly finished.”

“Did you bring any luggage, Mr. Gerson?” asked Mrs. Emery. “I’ll see about a room …”

“No … please. It is just a day visit … to get the papers and get back with them. They are wanted urgently.”

“Well, I expect you’ll want something to eat before you go back to London.”

“I dropped in at an inn for some ale and a sandwich. I was in rather a hurry.”

“How did you get into the house?”

“The back door was open and as everyone seemed to be out of the way I got on with the business. I knew where to find everything.”

“Well, you’d like something, I daresay. A cup of tea … or that sort of thing?”

“How very good of you, Mrs. Emery; always so thoughtful for our creature comforts. I was saying to Mr. Lansdon what a treasure you are. But I can’t stop. I’m in rather a hurry. I have to get back to London.”

He was putting some papers into a case.

“You found what you wanted?” I asked.

“Oh yes. Everything.”

“So you will be leaving immediately?”

“I regret that I must. Mr. Lansdon can be a very impatient man.”

“Belinda will be disappointed.”

He put his fingers to his lips. “Sh. Not a word to her or I shall be severely castigated when I next see her which I hope will be soon.”

He smiled at me warmly. “Well, much as I regret it, I must be off. Sorry I gave you a bit of a scare.”

“It wouldn’t take me long to brew a cup of tea,” said Mrs. Emery. “The kettle’s on the hob in my room.”

“Mrs. Emery; you are an angel of mercy as well as a treasure, but duty calls.”

He closed the case and we went out of the room. He locked the door and put the key back into his pocket.

“Au revoir,”
he said and was gone.

Mrs. Emery said: “Well, I could certainly do with a nice cup of tea after that. You really had me scared, Miss Rebecca.”

“It was a bit hair-raising to hear someone there.”

“I’d say. It was a good thing it wasn’t one of those girls. They would have had hysterics … you can bet your life.”

“I’m glad we found the explanation.”

We went to her room. “What a nice young man he is,” said Mrs. Emery, looking intently at me. “Always a smile and a cheery word. He’s as friendly to the tweeny as he is to the rest of us. And the children just love him.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “particularly Belinda.”

“Poor mite. She looked really seedy when she came back.” She looked at me intently and added: “I think he’s sweet on you.”

BOOK: The Changeling
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ads

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