The Changeling (65 page)

I had wandered to the edge of the lake as I watched the swans. The large one was coming purposefully toward me, the little one docilely swimming behind him. I thought how beautiful they were, so exquisitely graceful and serene. They were coming nearer and nearer. I was surprised. Previously they had seemed somewhat disdainfully aloof.

Then I heard the sound of horse’s hoofs. I turned. Jean Pascal was galloping toward me. He was alone.

I did not know why I had that sudden feeling of uneasiness. I was subject to strange moods in the château. Often I felt this sense of foreboding which I found impossible to shake off. It seemed to me that the servants watched us … Belinda and myself … closely—as though they were speculating. Once or twice I caught the whispered words
les anglaises
so I knew we were the subject of their conversation.

“Lucie!” Jean Pascal was calling my name and there was an urgent note in his voice. “Come here. Come to me … quickly!”

I did not move … and then I heard the sound of flapping wings. I turned sharply. The big black swan was flying straight at me. Jean Pascal had leaped from his horse. He pushed me roughly to one side. The swan turned its attention to him. Fortunately there was a fairly stout branch of a tree lying on the ground and with great presence of mind Jean Pascal picked it up. He was just in time to be able to protect his head by striking out at the swan. He took a few paces backward and hit out.

For a few seconds the black swan continued to attack him; and then suddenly it turned and flew back to the lake. I stood still, shocked, while it swam back to the middle of the lake, his meek mate following in her usual fashion, just as though nothing untoward had happened.

Jean Pascal put his hand on my shoulder. He whistled. “That was rather uncomfortable,” he said.

He took both my hands. “You’re trembling,” he said.

“It happened so quickly … I didn’t realize what it was all about.”

He dropped my hands and put an arm around me.

“Dear little Lucie, it is all over now.” He held me tightly against him and I wanted to cry out in panic, for he alarmed me as much as the swan had.

I tried to break free but he held me firmly. “You see,” he said. “I was there. I hope always to be at hand when you need me.”

I managed to free myself. “It was good of you,” I said. “Why did the swan try to attack first me … and then you?”

“You should have been warned. He’s a wicked old fellow, that swan, for all his good looks. We call him Diable. His little mate is so charming. She would never indulge in tantrums. She wouldn’t dare to with old Diable around. As a matter of fact her name is Ange. So you see, we have a devil and an angel. You went too near the lake, which Diable regards as his property. He doesn’t like people intruding. We have to be careful not to offend him. You should have been warned.”

“He’s quite dangerous, and he was ready to attack
you.
”

“Oh, he is no respecter of persons. He is quite ungrateful to those who provide for him. There’s a certain arrogance about him. Heaven knows what would have happened to you if I hadn’t come along just in time. He would have attacked your face … pecked at your nose or your eyes. His wings are strong. He’s a magnificent creature.
Mon Dieu,
the thought of your being hurt … I am so annoyed with myself. We’re so used to Diable here that we forget to tell people how vicious he can be. He’s a menace to the unaware. Never go near the edge of the lake again, and when you are out walking, find a stout stick just in case you encounter Diable.”

“Why do you have such a dangerous creature on your lake?”

“He keeps it clean … and you must admit he is rather majestic.”

“I admit that … but so dangerous!”

“Well, we accept him. The servants all know Diable, and now … so do you. You are becoming one of us, Lucie.”

“You have been most hospitable.”

Belinda was coming toward us. She frowned to see us together. I wanted to tell her how pleased I was to see her as I did not feel happy when I was alone with her father.

We told her about the adventure.

“Trust you, Lucie, to provoke him,” said Belinda.

“It could have happened to anyone … even to you.”

“I knew swans could be like that … male ones anyway.”

Jean Pascal laughed. “You see, Belinda knows the ways of the world. She recognizes the dangerous male who is so different from the gentle, charming female.”

“It’s not always like that,” said Belinda.

“That’s one thing you have to learn in life, isn’t it—not to generalize,” he said. “There will always be exceptions.”

And so we came to the château. I went to my room. I was still shaken … not only by the swan’s attack but by the manner in which Jean Pascal had held me to him and the look in his eyes when he spoke to me.

COPYRIGHT

Copyright © 1989 by Philippa Carr

All rights reserved.

Cover Design by Jason Gabbert

ISBN: 978-1480403819

This edition published in 2013 by Open Road Integrated Media

180 Varick Street

New York, NY 10014

www.openroadmedia.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.