‘Are you going to?’
‘When I’ve something that’s exciting enough to put down.’
‘Well, don’t you reckon Senara’s return with Carlotta is?’
‘It remains to be seen.’ She hesitated. Then she said: ‘I’ll tell you something. I swear someone from Paling will be over soon.’
‘Who’s coming over from Castle Paling then?’
She smiled secretly. ‘Bastian perhaps,’ she said.
It was not Bastian who came. It was Senara and her daughter. I wondered if they knew that my father was absent.
Senara cried: ‘So your mother is not here—’
We told her she had gone with our father to Plymouth.
‘Who is in charge?’ asked Senara.
‘My brother Fennimore,’ I answered. ‘And Bersaba and I are the hostesses.’
‘It’s nice of you to welcome us,’ said Carlotta with a sly smile, reminding us that we had done nothing of the sort.
Bersaba told them that Fennimore was out on the estate and we hastily ordered the grooms to take the horses while we brought them into the hall.
‘It’s a lovely old place,’ said Serena. ‘I always thought so. The castle is so much grimmer.’
‘But grander,’ added Carlotta.
‘Our mother will be so sorry not to be here,’ said Bersaba.
I could not imagine my mother’s being in the least sorry while she was with my father. In fact, I thought she would be rather pleased not to be here, since he would not want these visitors.
‘We’ll have a room made ready,’ I said, and went away to give orders.
When I came back Bersaba was taking the visitors into the intimate parlour, and one of the maids had brought the wine and cakes with which we always refreshed travellers on their arrival.
‘I was surprised,’ Senara was saying, ‘that your mother did not insist on our coming before.’
‘It was because our father was home,’ Bersaba was explaining. ‘When he comes they have so much to talk of because he has been away so long. They just have to be together. It has always been like that.’
‘Your mother fell in love with him when she was nothing but a girl … younger than you are,’ said Senara.
‘And she has stayed in love with him ever since,’ I said defiantly, as though there was need to defend her.
‘We were not all destined to find such happiness in married life, alas,’ commented Senara. She smiled at Carlotta and went on: ‘Let us tell the twins your news. I suppose I should be right to wait until your mother returns. She should be the first to know. But I can see you are all agog with curiosity.’
‘What news is it?’ asked Bersaba.
‘Carlotta has already had a proposal of marriage.’
‘Already … but from whom?’ My mind went over the people we knew. The Krolls, the Trents, the Lamptons … Surely one of those young men would not be considered good enough by Carlotta, who had gone to great pains to make us aware of her almost royal lineage.
‘She has to consider it, have you not, Carlotta? It is not the match she would have expected had she stayed in Spain, but it will bind the families closer, and I have never forgotten all through my life the days I spent here in my childhood.’
‘Who is it?’ asked Bersaba almost sharply.
‘It is your cousin Bastian. He has asked Carlotta’s hand in marriage.’
Because I am close to Bersaba I felt the shock which ran through her. It numbed me as it numbed her and instinctively I knew that she was deeply disturbed.
I began to talk rapidly to save her the necessity of doing so. I said: ‘So soon? How can you be sure? How can Bastian? What do Uncle Connell and Aunt Melanie say?’
‘They say it is a matter for Bastian to decide. He is of age. He is his own master and there is no doubt how strongly he is involved. Is that not so, Carlotta?’
‘He is determined to marry me.’
‘And you to marry him?’ I asked faintly.
A smile flicked across her lips. ‘I am not sure. He must wait for his answer.’
‘We left Paling so that Carlotta could have time to think of this in peaceful surroundings,’ Senara explained.
‘I wanted to know what you felt about it here,’ said Carlotta. ‘Would you be happy to have me in your family? I wanted the twins to tell me.’ She was looking at Bersaba, who stood still, her eyes downcast, saying nothing. ‘Of course,’ went on Carlotta, ‘I shall not listen to what you tell me. I shall make up my mind whether or not I shall marry Bastian.’ Again that look at Bersaba. ‘And something seems to tell me that I shall.’
The atmosphere had grown tense with secret feelings. It affected me strongly because it came from Bersaba. I could see Grandfather Casvellyn’s wild eyes, hear his accusing voice: ‘They’ll bring trouble here if they stay.’ Was that prophecy already coming true?
BERSABA
The Toad in the Bed
I AM DESOLATE SO I am taking up my pen. I had said I would only do so when there was something interesting to write about. I did not think it would be heartbreak. I am so hurt, so humiliated and I think above all angry. My anger is none the less fierce because I hide it from the world; it is like a fire inside me, a banked-up fire which is waiting for the moment to burst forth, and when it does I believe I should be capable of killing the one who has brought me to this state.
I put down my pen then and wrung my hands together; I wished that it were her neck I had in my hands. They are very strong, my hands. I could always do things with them that Angelet could not attempt.
At this time I am only half believing it. I say to myself: It can’t be true. But in my heart I know it is. Grandfather was a prophet when he said she would bring disaster to us. He was thinking of me, I know, because Grandfather has a special feeling for me. There is a bond between us. I think I know what it is, for it is a need, a desire, which he himself possessed and which came down through him to me. I appear outwardly quiet … quieter than Angelet, but internally I am not.
If I had not been as I am, this would not have happened to me. I should not have lain with Bastian in the forest and have revelled in that wild exultation which I could no more resist than he could. I used to think that if we were discovered they would blame him; they would say he had seduced me; he was older than I and I was little more than a child. But it would not be true. I was the one who had tempted him—artlessly, subtly, it was true. He used to kiss me and be frightened by the kisses I gave him in return; I would caress him in such a manner as to arouse his desires. He thought it was innocence which made me do these things. He didn’t understand that virgin though I was, at that time I was possessed by a raging desire to be possessed.
When I was fourteen years old I knew that I wanted Bastian to be my lover. He had singled me out as his favourite and this endeared him to me, for although we were so much alike people were more comfortable in Angelet’s company. She was not prettier than I … how could she be when most people did not know which of us was which? It was something in her manner. When I pretended to be her—it was our favourite game to delude people into thinking one of us was the other—I could assume her nature: open, thoughtless, chattering without thinking very much what she was saying, light-hearted, believing the best of everyone, and being easy to deceive because of that. I just had to think of Angelet’s ways to be her. But she never really succeeded in being me, because if she lived to a hundred she would never know this deep sensuality which was the strongest force in my nature and which was why Bastian and I had become lovers when I was but fifteen years old and he was twenty-two.
The first time it happened we were riding in the woods near Castle Paling where I was staying with my mother and sister. A party of us had gone out riding and Bastian and I slipped away from the others. We came to a thicket and I said the horses were tired and we should give them a rest.