‘That mad old man!’ said Carlotta. ‘What a scene he made! He did not like my mother nor me. He does not want us here.’
‘He gets very angry. For so many years he has been crippled. At first they thought he would kill himself, but he didn’t; and now he goes on making everyone’s life unbearable, but somehow the servants who look after him admire him. I can’t think why?’
‘It is time he is dead,’ said Carlotta, blowing her lips in an odd gesture as though he were so much dust and she were blowing him away.
We were all a little shocked. Perhaps it had occurred to us that Grandfather Casvellyn’s life must be a burden to him and others, but while he had life in his body that life was sacred. Our parents had taught us that.
Carlotta sensed our thoughts. There was something uncanny about her. Perhaps she was indeed a witch or had such experience of life that she understood how the minds of simple country girls worked. She cried out: ‘Oh, you don’t talk of such matters, do you? You all pretend you’re fond of him because he’s your grandfather. How could anyone be fond of such a horrible old man? He wanted us turned away. Did my grandmother really marry him? She is so beautiful … the most beautiful woman I ever saw … and she married him!’
‘He was no doubt very handsome in those days.’
She was thoughtful. ‘Tall and strong and powerful … the lord of the castle … perhaps. Well, how I say it is time he was dead and I shall say what I think.’
‘Don’t let anyone hear you,’ I said.
‘I shall not care who does, little twin. Which one are you? How can people tell you from your sister? What fun you must have.’
‘Yes,’ said Bersaba, ‘we do.’
‘I do not think I should care to have someone so like myself,’ said Carlotta. ‘I like to be different … no one like me … all by myself … unique.’
‘We have our differences,’ I said. ‘It is in our natures.’
‘One is the saint and one the sinner, I believe,’ said Carlotta.
‘That could be true,’ said Bersaba.
‘And which is which?’
‘Our mother says that no person is all bad, none all good. So we shouldn’t be so neatly divided,’ I said.
‘How you quote your mother!’ said Carlotta contemptuously. ‘You will have to learn your own lessons from life, won’t you? Is the old man watching us now, do you think?’
‘It may be,’ said Bersaba. ‘I have sometimes seen him at a window watching.’
Carlotta turned and looked up at the Seaward Tower. She clenched her fist and shook it.
Again we were horrified, and seeing this she laughed at us.
‘Let us ride,’ she said. ‘I have a fancy to see the countryside.’
‘We are not allowed to ride alone,’ said Rozen.
‘We shall not be alone. There are five of us.’
‘We are girls, so we have to take some grooms with us.’
‘What could happen to us?’
‘We could be set upon by robbers.’
‘Who would take our purses,’ said Gwenifer.
‘Or worse,’ added Rozen.
‘Rape?’ said Carlotta with that strange laughter in her voice.
‘I think that is what they fear.’
‘We could elude them,’ said Carlotta. ‘Come, we are taking no grooms with us.’
‘And if we are robbed or …’ began Rozen.
‘Then we shall have gained in experience,’ answered Carlotta. ‘Let us change into our riding-habits.’
‘You have yours with you?’ asked Rozen.
‘My dear cousin … for I suppose we are related in a way, since your grandfather was my grandmother’s husband, and “cousin” covers these complicated relationships. So, dear cousin, let me tell you that the pack horses brought our clothes and there are plenty of them, for my mother said the fashions here at Castle Paling will not be of the latest and your English ones of course could not compare with those of Spain.’
‘I believe the fashions at Court are quite splendid,’ said Rozen warmly.
‘Gaudy, no doubt,’ said Carlotta, ‘and I suppose that could be called splendid here. But let us change and then you can show me the countryside.’
As we went to our rooms to change Bersaba said to me: ‘I don’t like her, Angelet. I wish they hadn’t come.’
‘You don’t know her,’ I insisted.
‘I know enough.’
‘How can you in such a short time? You’re thinking of Grandfather and what he said.’
‘He’s right. She’s going to bring trouble … they both are.’
When we met in the stables Carlotta looked at us somewhat scornfully. I supposed our riding-habits with their safeguards were not very attractive. Her outfit was beautifully cut to enhance her tall willowy figure and the black riding-hat became her well.
She mounted the horse she had arrived on and she stood out among us all. As we were preparing to ride out Bastian rode in.
He smiled and his eyes came to rest on Carlotta.
‘Are you going riding?’ he asked. ‘Take two of the grooms with you.’
‘We are not taking grooms,’ retorted Carlotta.
‘Oh but …’
‘There are five of us,’ said Carlotta.
‘But you should …’
She shook her head, still smiling at him, and he could not take his eyes from her face.
‘I’ll come with you,’ he said.
‘It is as you wish,’ she answered.
And we all rode out together.
Bersaba brought her horse up and rode beside Bastian. Then Carlotta was there and Bastian was between them.
Carlotta talked about the countryside and Bastian told her of the quaint customs of the people and the crops that were grown.
I did not think she was very interested in that, but she was in Bastian. So it seemed was he in her, for he never left her side during the whole of the morning.
He had said that we must keep together and we did. I was surprised that Carlotta obeyed this because I thought that the very fact that she was asked not to wander off would make her do so. But she seemed content to ride with Bastian and she kept beside him.
Bersaba contrived to keep her place on his other side but I noticed that he gave his attention to Carlotta, which seemed natural as she was the newcomer.
When we returned to the castle there was great excitement. Our mother came running down to the hall as we came in.
‘Your father’s ship has been sighted. Fennimore has sent a servant to tell us. He has ridden with all haste from Trystan. We must prepare to go back at once.’
‘When shall we start?’ I asked.
‘Within an hour. Your Aunt Melanie knows and is helping me make ready. We shall come back as soon as your father goes away again. But now … make ready.’
It was a short visit, I thought, but a significant one.
As we came along the coast we saw the ship riding the water and we knew it for our father’s. My mother’s eyes glistened with joy as she beheld the sight. It was named after her, the Tamsyn, and my father had had it built five years before. I had heard my father extol her and say that since she was named after the best woman in the world she must indeed be the best ship that ever sailed the seas. From her poop lantern to her figurehead she was some two hundred and twenty feet in length and forty feet across the beam. She carried cannon, of course—a necessity when on her journeys she might meet pirates or rivals masquerading as such. It was a source of great anxiety to my mother that on their return voyage the ships were laden with precious cargoes of silks, ivories and spices. The figurehead of the Tamsyn was an exquisite carving of my mother. My father had said that in some ways that made him feel as though she were with him. He was a very sentimental man and theirs was indeed a rare marriage of minds.