been beautiful. Any fool could see that. Was that the connection? Did the phantom lover choose only the most beautiful prey?
Tamara ruminated on this as she sipped her tea and tried not to stare at the changeling child lying stiffly in his wooden bassinet. William walked into the kitchen and glanced around. He frowned.
"Is Mrs. Gilroy about?" he asked.
"She'll be back in a moment," Tamara replied.
Hesitant, William turned to Betsy. "Have you got any more milk?"
The girl seemed not to hear him. William sighed but did not bother asking again. This was obviously the response he had expected. He started across the kitchen toward his sister, passing by the bassinet. He paused just a moment to stare sadly down into the yellow eyes of the hideous infant... and the changeling baby erupted in a shriek of pleasure, followed by a rush of gurgled laughter. Tamara watched, fascinated, as her brother reached out a shaky hand and carefully patted its head between the tiny nubs of horns.
