Saraband for Two Sisters

by Philippa Carr

  Then he turned and wheeled his chair away. He was calling, ‘Binder. Binder,’ and the terrified manservant came to take the chair and push it out of the hall.

  There was silence.

  It was Carlotta who spoke first. ‘What a terrible old man,’ she said.

  ‘He married your grandmother,’ said Senara. ‘It was your grandmother of whom he spoke with such venom.’

  ‘He must have hated her.’

  ‘He was bewitched by her.’

  ‘He’s mad, isn’t he?’

  ‘Who would not be mad?’ asked Senara. ‘Such a man as he was to be kept a prisoner in a chair!’

  My mother said: ‘You will come with us, Senara, to Trystan Priory when we leave. You would not want to stay here now.’

  Senara laughed. ‘I’ll not allow him to decide my plans,’ she said. ‘Connell is the master now. If he wanted me to stay … and Melanie wanted it … I would not care for that madman’s words. I shall come to Trystan to be with you—depend upon it, Tamsyn—but I want to be in the castle for a while first.’

  Melanie rose. She was clearly shaken by the scene my grandfather had made.

  ‘It seems as though the storm will not abate for a while,’ she said. ‘But there is no reason why we should sit over the table waiting for it. I will take you to the room which will now be ready. You may want to rest.’

  ‘I could talk and talk,’ said Senara. ‘Tamsyn, come with me to my room. Let us pretend it is years ago and we are young again.’

  My mother went to Senara and they embraced warmly. Everyone began to talk as though nothing had happened. After all, we were accustomed to Grandfather’s outbursts, but I could not forget the wildness of his eyes, and the words he had spoken kept ringing in my ears.

  News from the Castle

  THE CHANGE WAS APPARENT in the first day. This visit was like no other. Before we had rarely made plans for the days. We would come down to breakfast, which was a tankard of ale and bread with cold bacon, and we helped ourselves to this. Then we would go our separate ways. There had been a free and easy atmosphere about the castle. Sometimes I would ride with my sister and any of the girls who liked to accompany us; or I would go to the sea-shore and add to my collection of shells and semi-precious stones, or I would simply explore the castle. There was so much to do. When we had been young we had been allowed to play all sorts of games in the various towers as long as we did not penetrate Grandfather Casvellyn’s Seaward; and the castle had seemed to us an enchanted place.

  It was still that in a way, but it was different.

  Senara, my mother and Aunt Melanie seemed to want to talk all the time about the old days; Senara must go round the castle exclaiming: ‘I remember this well,’ or ‘Oh, look at that. Fancy its still being here.’ That left Carlotta to us.

  We were wary of each other—particularly was Bersaba wary. Carlotta talked in that half foreign way which was attractive; her clothes were different; they, with her voice, her manners and her incomparable beauty, set her apart. It would have been different if she had not been aware of this, but she was.

  Bersaba and I with Rozen and Gwenifer took her on a tour of the castle.

  ‘Is it very different from what your mother told you?’ asked Rozen.

  ‘Very different.’

  ‘And we are different too?’ I asked.

  She laughed, shaking her head. ‘I did not know of you, therefore I could not picture you. You are different from the people I know.’

  ‘What? Girls like us?’

  ‘Oh, it is different in Spain. Young girls do not run wild, as here. They practise decorum and have a duenna.’

  ‘Who is yours?’

  ‘I have none now. I am here, and here I shall live as girls live here.’

  ‘Do you prefer it?’ asked Bersaba.

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I cannot say. It is not a gracious way to live. Yet one has freedom, and that is good.’

  ‘We could do with more freedom,’ said Gwenifer. ‘We are not allowed to ride out without grooms, are we?’

  ‘Sometimes we get lost,’ said Bersaba.

  Carlotta turned her full-lidded eyes on my sister. ‘For a purpose?’ she asked.

  My sister shrugged her shoulders, and Gwenifer said: ‘You came back with Bastian the other day, Bersaba.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Bersaba, ‘I lost you, and so did Bastian, and then … we found each other.’

  It seemed a long and unnecessary explanation. I knew Bersaba had deliberately lost herself. I wondered whether Bastian had too.

  ‘Ah, Bastian, the brother,’ said Carlotta. ‘He is a very pleasant young gentleman. I shall miss Spain where life is so much more gracious, but I think I shall like being here … for a while.’

  ‘Shall you go back to Spain?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Are you betrothed?’ asked Rozen.

  Carlotta shook her head. ‘No, I could have been but he was not to my liking. He was old, a great nobleman with large estates and a great title, but I said, No, I am too young yet for such a union. I will wait a little while. There might be someone to my liking.’

  We all regarded her with awe.

  When we came to the Seaward Tower, she said: ‘Why do we not enter here?’

  ‘We rarely go in there,’ said Rozen. ‘That’s where our grandfather lives with his servants. There has to be a special reason for going … for instance, when my aunt arrives with the twins. She is expected to call on the first day of her arrival and after that wait for an invitation.’

  ‘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.

  We turned away from the coast to take the road to Trystan Priory and our horses could not carry us fast enough. My father was in the courtyard when we arrived, for he had seen our approach from one of the turret windows, knowing that it would be that day for he was well aware that as soon as my mother received news of his arrival she would lose no time in setting out.

  His eyes went first to her. He lifted her down from her horse and they embraced there. The servants looked on with a kind of wonder. There was something about this love between our parents which was sacred to us all. Bersaba felt it; we had discussed it; we had once both declared that we would never marry because we couldn’t marry our father and where in the world would we find another husband like him? There flashed into my mind then a vision of Carlotta’s long secretive eyes and I wondered what she would have said had she been here. I was glad she was not. I could not have endured her cynical comments or her looks which would betray her thoughts about my parents, so I was glad that she had stayed behind at Castle Paling, but I knew that she would come here some day. Then something would change to make it different and I did not want it to change.

  My father had turned to us. ‘My girls,’ he said, and caught us both up in his arms. ‘You’ve grown,’ he accused us. ‘You’re not my little girls any more.’

  Our brother Fennimore was smiling rather sheepishly. He was just as happy as the rest.

  ‘And you came while I was away …’ my mother was saying. ‘Oh, Fenn, I wish I’d known. We’d only been there a day or so … if only I’d been at home.’

  ‘Well, you’re here now, my love.’

  ‘I must see the servants. I must go to the kitchen … Oh, Fenn, when did you come?’

  He said: ‘Leave the kitchen. Stay with me. Let us talk and talk …’

  So we went into the house, and for a short time we forgot Carlotta and her mother.

  We dined in the intimate parlour—just the family—and Father talked of his adventures.

  Trade was becoming more prosperous. The great rivals were the Dutch because they were very commercially minded and were seeking maritime expansion. They were good sailors—as much to be feared as the Spaniards had been a few years back. They were as deadly in a way, for while the Spaniards had never lost sight of the desire to bring Catholicism to the entire world, the Dutch had one objective—maritime supremacy, which would make them the biggest and richest traders in the world; and as the very same ambition was possessed by the English in general and in particular those of the East India Company, the rivalry was intense.

  ‘They want to drive us off the seas,’ Father told us. ‘And we are
determined not to be driven. Why people cannot trade in peace has always been a mystery to me. There are riches enough in the world for us all and let the man who finds them first keep them.’

  Our mother was in full agreement with my father and I thought that if everyone in the world was like them it would be a happier place.

  My father told us stories of his adventures in strange lands. He made us see palm-fringed islands where the people lived in primitive fashion and rarely saw a white man, how they had been overawed by the sight of the big trading ships and were sometimes hostile. But he always implied that there was no real danger and that he would emerge safe from all his adventures, and I fancied that he sometimes coloured the stories to give this effect, for the last thing he wanted was to add to our mother’s anxieties. We basked in this atmosphere of contentment and neither Bersaba nor I thought beyond the present; we shut our eyes to the truth that one day he would sail away again. While he was home there must be perfect contentment.

  We none of us asked that first day of reunion when he would be leaving us again, and it was the next day before we mentioned Senara’s return.

  Then a faint frown appeared on his face, and I thought uneasily: He doesn’t like Senara.

  ‘You knew her well, Father?’ I asked.

  ‘Not well,’ he replied. ‘I knew her. She left before your mother and I married. I had met her when I visited the Castle.’

  My mother said: ‘She will come here. She wants to be with me awhile but I think the Castle has some attraction and she will go back there after visits with us. It was her home. Like myself she was born there.’

  ‘So she will be here,’ said my father slowly.

  ‘You would not have me not receive her?’ asked my mother, little lights of horror appearing in her eyes. Was it going to be their first disagreement?

  ‘My love, if you want her here … of course you must have her.’

  ‘Dearest Fenn,’ said my mother, ‘she is as my sister.’

  ‘She was not always good to you … to us …’

  ‘Oh, but she is good at heart. She was wild in those days. She acted without thought. But she was as my sister and I could not turn her away.’