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Authors: Philippa Carr

The Changeling (51 page)

BOOK: The Changeling
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“And capable of greater mischief.”

“Oh, I daresay she has settled down. From the letters we’ve had they all seem to be happy out there.”

“Do you want her back?”

I nodded.

“Well, if she did come back we would not have any nonsense.”

“You mean she may come?”

“I expect Celeste feels she must have her, and you want it.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, I’m glad. I’ll tell Celeste. I think she was afraid you might say no.”

“Good Heavens! This is her home.”

“She wouldn’t dream of asking anyone you didn’t want!”

“No, I suppose she wouldn’t. Well, you have decided, have you, you and Celeste between you? So Belinda and Leah had better come here.”

I felt excited. Belinda was coming home!

He looked at me quizzically and said, “I believe she was not exactly charming toward you.”

“Oh … she was Belinda.”

“That is just it—Belinda!” he retorted. “Well, we shall see. But we shall have no nonsense. If she does not behave well here, she will go.”

“She will be different. She’s grown up. She is my age.”

“Ah. The age of great wisdom! By the way, I’ve asked the Greenhams for tomorrow night … dinner. That will please you, won’t it?”

“Of course. I suppose there will be lots of speculation about the next election.”

“That,” he replied, “is something you can be sure of.”

Then he went on to talk of the recent debate, but I fancied he was still thinking about Belinda.

I was always pleased when the Greenhams visited us or when we went to them—and the main reason was Joel Greenham. Joel and I were very great friends and always had been. He was about twenty-five, and although I was catching up on him now, I must have seemed like a child to him for some time, but he had always been attentive to me even before I entered my teens.

He had all the qualities I admired most in a man. He was not exactly good-looking; his features were too irregular for that, but he had a most charming smile; he had a musical voice to which I loved to listen; he was tall and looked even taller because he was rather slender. He was a Member of Parliament—one of the youngest, I believe—and I heard that in the House he spoke forcibly, with an air of strength; yet there was a certain gentleness about him which was rare in a man and which I found particularly endearing. He had never treated me as anything but an intelligent person. My father was interested in him and often said he had the making of a good politician. He was popular with his constituents, who had elected him with a very good majority.

In his turn he had a great admiration for my father. Perhaps that was why my father liked him. One has to be very self-critical not to like people who admire one—and my father was certainly not that. Joel had always been interested in me, and he was pleased when I contributed to the conversation and would take up the points I made as though they were well worth considering.

I would sit listening to them as they talked over dinner—my father, Sir John and Joel. Lady Greenham would try to engage me and Celeste in conversation, and I would make a great effort not to be drawn in, so that I could hear the men talk.

My father was always fiercely authoritative, Sir John amused and a little half hearted. Joel would take up the points made by my father and when he did not agree with them he would put forth his views in what I considered to be a concise and clever way. I could see that my father thought so, too. I enjoyed listening to them; and I loved them both dearly.

It had been a century-old tradition with the Greenhams that there must be one politician in the family. Sir John had held the seat at Marchlands for many years and gave it up when Joel was ready to step into his shoes. Since taking it Joel had increased the already sizeable majority.

There was an ancestral home at Marchlands in Essex, close to Epping Forest, so not very far from London, which was convenient, but they had the house in Westminster. Although Sir John was no longer an active member of the House, his life had been politics and he spent a great deal of time in London. He said he liked to be under the shadow of Big Ben.

There was another son—Gerald—who was in the army. I saw him from time to time; he was amusing and charming, but it was Joel whom I loved.

Lady Greenham was one of those women who manage their families with skill and are inclined to hold anything outside family affairs as of no real importance. I fancied she thought that masculine pursuits which aroused such fierce interest in her menfolk were some game, such as they had played in their childhoods, and she would watch them with pursed lips and a mildly contemptuous indulgence that implied she was perfectly agreeable that they should play their little games, as long as they remembered that she was the custodian of the family laws laid down for them.

I looked forward to a little conversation with Joel. Celeste always put me beside him at table and my father clearly thought that was a good idea.

In fact, I think there was between him and Celeste—and perhaps Sir John and Lady Greenham shared in this—a belief that it might be a good idea, if in due course Joel and I married and united the two families.

As the daughter of Benedict Lansdon I would be acceptable to the Greenhams and Joel would be so to my family. It was a cozy implication, and in the meantime I continued to enjoy my friendship with Joel.

I think the two families looked forward to being together. Celeste was happy in the company of Lady Greenham. They would talk of matters of which Celeste was very knowledgeable; and she seemed to find confidence in Lady Greenham’s approval.

Joel was talking of the possibilities of our spending a week or so at Marchlands when Parliament was in recess. I looked forward to that. The Greenhams sometimes stayed with us at Manorleigh so we saw a good deal of each other both in London and in the country.

My father was saying something about an African project and even Lady Greenham paused in her conversation with Celeste to listen.

“It’s coming up for discussion,” my father said. “It seems a good idea to send out a few members. They’ll be chosen with care from both parties. The government will want an unbiased view. Well, it is not really a matter of party politics.”

“What part of Africa is this?” asked Sir John.

“Buganda. There has been some trouble since Mwanga took over. When Mtesa was kabaka things ran more smoothly. With Mwanga it’s quite a different case. There were the martyrs, you remember. And now, of course, we are extending our sphere of influence.”

“Were the Germans in on this?” asked Sir John.

“There was the Anglo-German agreement, of course, but this was revoked recently, and that area embracing Buganda is to be under our influence. Hence the interest.”

“Are they going to send some Members of Parliament out there then?” I asked.

“It’s the usual procedure. To spy out the land and see how they are received … what impression they get. It’s a rich country. We want to make sure that the best is made of it.”

“Who are the martyrs of Buganda?” I wanted to know.

“They were African Roman Catholics,” Joel explained. “There were twenty-three of them. It happened a few years back … round about ‘87 … and a little before that, too. The first mission was accepted by Mtesa. It was when Mwanga came to power that the trouble started. He organized a massacre of missionaries. An English bishop, James Hannington, with his band of missionaries was murdered. So you see, we have to step in because it looks as though before long Buganda will become a British Protectorate.”

“And when is the jaunt going to take place?” Sir John asked my father.

“Fairly soon, I should think,” he replied. “It is very important that the right people should go. The situation will require a certain tact.” He was looked at Joel. “I think it would be very good for one’s reputation to be a member of the party.”

“Are you going?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, most definitely not. It’s a job for younger men. I’ve got too many irons in the fire here. So have others. It’s for a strong and healthy young man. The climate needs a bit of withstanding. It needs a man with a little prestige … he’ll have something to show his party and the people that he is capable of action.”

“You are looking at me,” said Joel.

“Well … it might be an idea.”

“It sounds exciting,” I said.

“Yes,” replied Joel slowly.

“Well, who knows?” went on my father. “No one has been chosen yet, but I should say you have a very good chance, Joel … with a nod in the right direction.”

“It would be a great experience.”

“As long as you don’t get eaten by the cannibals,” put in Lady Greenham. “I believe they have them in those outlandish places. And there are fevers and all sorts of unpleasant animals.”

Everyone laughed.

“It’s true,” added Lady Greenham. “And I think it’s about time to let these natives get on with their killing. Let them kill each other and that will be an end of them.”

“It was an English bishop whom they killed, Lady Greenham,” I said.

“Well, he should have stayed at home in England.”

“My dear,” said Sir John mildly, “where should we be today if everyone had followed your advice?”


We
should be sitting at this table!” she retorted. “And those who went would be massacred or eaten or die of fever.”

It was always Lady Greenham who had the last word. But I could see that Joel was rather excited by the prospect of going with the mission to Africa.

Then the talk turned to the burning question of the next election and speculation as to when it could be expected to take place. There seemed to be no doubt that Gladstone would be returned to power. The important point was with how big a majority.

Joel and I walked along by the Serpentine. We sometimes rode in Rotten Row while we were in London, but not very often. It was when we were at Marchlands or Manorleigh that we indulged our passion for horses. But we did enjoy walking in the parks—Green Park, St. James’s, Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens. One could walk through one to the other and almost feel that one was in the country, only occasionally coming out into the traffic which was considerably muted when one was under the trees or strolling along the sylvan paths.

We sat by the Serpentine and watched the ducks.

I said to him, “Do you really think that you will go to Africa?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “If I were chosen I suppose I would.”

“My father thinks it would be good for your career.”

“He’s right. He always is.”

“I imagine he is putting your name forward.”

“His influence could count considerably.”

“Oh, Joel, how exciting it would be for you!”

“H’m. Your father has talked to me about it … and other things. He is very anxious that I should make a name in the House. It’s absurd that he himself has never had Cabinet rank.”

“There is so much chance in politics. Everything has to be right at a certain moment. Time and place … they matter tremendously. Opportunity comes and if a man can’t take it he probably won’t get another chance … and a politician has to wait for his party to be in power.”

“How right you are!”

“I don’t know the whole story but I do know he came near to having a high post in the Cabinet. There was even some talk of his following Mr. Gladstone as Prime Minister.”

“He might do that yet.”

“Who can say? Life is full of surprises.”

“He’s been good to me.”

“I’m glad of that, Joel. I know he’s fond of you.”

“And my family are fond of him and Celeste … and you.”

“It’s a wonderful friendship between the two families.”

“Lucie, you are very young yet.”

“You’re not exactly old.”

“I’m twenty-five. It’s quite a bit older than you.”

“It seems so at this stage, but when we get older it will seem less so.”

“That’s just it. I … I think they have plans in mind for us.”

“The families, you mean?”

He nodded. “They think it would be a good idea if you and I … one day … when you’re older … well, if we married.”

“Do you think it would be a good idea?”

“I can’t think of anything better. What of you?”

“It seems a good idea to me, too. I’m not seventeen yet, you know.”

“I thought … when you were eighteen …”

“Is this a sort of proposal? I never thought a proposal would be quite like this.”

“It doesn’t matter how it is … as long as it is acceptable to both parties.”

“There’s one thing, Joel. I haven’t lived yet.” That sounded so trite that I began to laugh. But I went on, “It’s true. Have you
lived,
Joel?” He did not speak, so I went on, “I don’t know much about people … about men, I mean. It’s as though we have been chosen for each other by our families. Is that the best way to choose a wife or a husband?”

“We have known each other for such a long time. There wouldn’t be any unpleasant surprises such as come to some people.”

“There wouldn’t be any surprises, pleasant or unpleasant.”

“Well, I think it’s a good idea.”

“So do I,” I said.

He turned to me suddenly and kissed me on the cheek.

“Shall we say we’re engaged?”

“Unofficially … tentatively. And, Joel, if you fall in love with someone else, you mustn’t hesitate to say so.”

“As if I would!”

“You never know. Passion strikes like lightning, so I’ve heard it said. You never know what direction it’s coming from.”

“I know I shall never love anyone as I do you.”

“How can you know yet? You haven’t been struck so far. Some exciting female may come along … someone you meet for the first time in your life … someone mysterious … irresistible.”

“You’re talking nonsense, Lucie.”

“Do you know, I rather hope I am.”

He took my arm and we snuggled close together.

Then he said, “We’re engaged.”

“Secretly,” I reminded him. “We don’t want the families to start planning yet. I have to grow up a little more and you’ve got to go to Buganda or whatever it is.”

“If I go … when I come back …”

“That would be a dramatic moment to announce it. You … the hero covered in glory.”

BOOK: The Changeling
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