Kingdom's Dream (11 page)

He looked up into her face, holding her hands while the carriage rocked as the horses shifted uneasily between the shafts. ‘Please, Llinos, just say you'll meet me tomorrow. We'll walk in the park, if that's what you want, but I need to be with you at least for a while.'

She tried to draw away her hands – Eynon was probably watching from the window. ‘All right, then. Tomorrow in Victoria Park, the early afternoon. Now I must go.'

The driveway from Caswell House seemed to stretch to infinity, and Llinos pressed herself into a corner of the carriage as though she could make herself invisible. But she could not escape her conscience. Why was she agreeing to meet Dafydd? She knew the temptations of being alone with him. She would not go, she decided, and Dafydd would have to accept that there was nothing he could do.

Then she heard the sound of hoofs pounding along behind her and wondered if he had come after her.

‘Stop, driver!' Eynon appeared at the side of the carriage. He was holding his horse on a tight rein and his face was white with anger. ‘Llinos, don't do this to Jayne.'

‘I don't know what you mean,' Llinos said. ‘Do what, Eynon? I have done nothing but talk to Dafydd. What else could I do outside in the drive?'

‘You know exactly what I mean,' Eynon said. ‘You can't hide the longing in your eyes whenever that man is near you. Are you ever going to behave like a responsible woman, Llinos?'

‘How dare you speak to me like that?' Llinos knew her anger was driven by guilt. ‘Since Dafydd took his vows we have done nothing to be ashamed of.'

‘I don't believe you! That man makes love to you with his every gesture.' Eynon's face was white. ‘I could kill the bastard for the way he disregards my daughter's feelings.'

‘Are you sure it's not jealousy that is clouding your judgement, Eynon?' Llinos's voice rose. ‘You are wrong about us! We have done nothing to be ashamed of.'

‘Tell me you don't care for him any more, then,' Eynon said angrily. ‘Just tell me that, Llinos, and I'll leave you alone.'

‘My feelings are nothing to do with you, Eynon!' Llinos was as angry as he was. ‘Nothing gives you the right to tell me what I can and can't do.'

‘I've been your friend for as long as I can remember. Doesn't that give me some rights, Llinos?'

‘And can you tell me
you
've never done anything wrong, Eynon? Have you never given way to your feelings?' She looked into his anguished eyes and remorse built inside her. She was about to make a conciliatory gesture when Eynon wheeled his horse away.

‘When will I see you again, Eynon?' Llinos called, but he was already riding away. She shrugged. She was hurt by his attitude but she knew that as soon as he'd thought things over they would be friends again.

‘Well, Katie, are you getting used to being lady's maid to Mrs Dafydd Buchan?'

Katie heaved her basket on to her other arm. ‘Well, when she's in a good mood I enjoy my work.'

‘And that's not very often, is it?' Shanni fell into step beside her. ‘You know Sarah, one of the maids at Caswell House, don't you? She's a good girl, talkative, too, and not above a bit of gossip. She says she'd heard Jayne and Dafydd quarrelling.'

A carriage pulled up sharply alongside her.

‘Katie Cullen, what do you think you're doing, girl?'

Katie bit her lip as she saw Mrs Buchan lean out of her carriage. ‘Get in at once. You know I don't like my servants talking to the likes of Shanni Morgan!'

Katie was confused. ‘I'm sorry, Mrs Buchan, but I am doing my job, that's all.'

‘And gossiping the day away by the look of it. Now, get in at once if you value your position in my household, and you are never to talk to her again.'

Katie was angry now: maid she might be, but she deserved to be treated with courtesy. ‘I think it's my business who I talk to when I'm out on the street – and didn't you tell me yourself that it was all right to talk to Shanni?'

‘I said no such thing!'

Katie stared at her in dismay. ‘But you did, Mrs—'

‘Don't answer back, girl! How dare you call me a liar? I've got a terrible headache and you're making it worse. Oh, I've had enough of you. You can collect your belongings and leave my house. Get out of my sight for good!'

Katie stared open-mouthed as the carriage disappeared along the road. ‘Well!' she said. ‘I don't want to work for the likes of her anyway.' But for all her brave words she was upset. Where would she go? What could she do?

Shanni took her arm. ‘Look, let's go and fetch your things. I'll come and help you and then we'll ask Dafydd to find you a place somewhere else, right?'

Katie nodded and quickened her step. ‘Let's just get it over and done with,' she said.

Shanni touched her arm. ‘You spoke up well for yourself there. I'm glad to see you're not afraid to talk back to the gentry.'

‘Well, they're no better than us, they just have more money,' Katie said, with a grin.

‘Apart from which,' Shanni began to laugh, ‘she has to pee the same as the rest of us.'

The walk to Caswell House passed more quickly than Katie expected, mainly because she was listening to Shanni's strange views on women's place in society. ‘You see, Katie, women can pull themselves up by their bootlaces if they want to. We don't have to be maidservants and wait on the rich. Many of the women who are successful now were poor like us, once upon a time.'

‘Who, for instance?' Katie looked at Shanni's red hair blown in tendrils across her pale skin. She was so lucky to be such a beauty.

‘Well, there's Llinos Mainwaring. Her father fought with the Duke of Wellington and was injured badly, so they say, and she was left as poor as a church mouse when the pottery got run down. It was only because she had courage and talent that she could pull everything together and make a success of her life. Except in love, though. She made a right mess there.'

Katie was intrigued. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Don't you know anything, Katie? Well, perhaps you've lived a sheltered life up there on Greenhill. You had a strict mam and dad to take care of you, didn't you?'

‘Maybe so, but that doesn't make me stupid.'

‘I'm not saying it does!
Duw, duw,
no need to be so jumpy. I only meant you were brought up in a respectable household.'

‘I'm sorry,' Katie said, ‘but because my family were Irish some folk treat me like a fool. Anyway, are you going to tell me more about Mrs Mainwaring?'

‘She married a foreigner, didn't she?'

‘What's wrong with that?' A glimmer of a smile lit Katie's face. ‘I suppose you could say I'm a foreigner, too, my mam and dad coming from across the sea an' all.'

‘Well, not so foreign as Mr Mainwaring. He was an American Indian and he took a squaw woman as his mistress and gave her a baby too, so all the old women say.'

‘Mrs Mainwaring can't help that, though, can she?' Katie frowned. ‘Quite a few men go funny over women, don't they?' She thought of her father, the way he used to eye up the young Catholic girls in church then go to the alehouse and get drunk.

‘Ah, but Llinos Mainwaring took her revenge.'

‘How?'

‘She had an affair with Dafydd Buchan – surely you heard about it? She's got a child by him too – you can see the likeness a mile off.'

Katie heard a touch of bitterness in Shanni's voice and realized there was more to the story than met the eye. Still, it was shocking that a woman could openly flaunt the child of a man who was not her husband.

‘Mr Buchan is as bad as she is, then,' she said aloud. ‘You can't always blame the woman, can you?'

‘And you a good Catholic girl?' Shanni laughed. ‘You're like me. We both have spirit, and we both think a man is as much to blame as the woman in these affairs.'

Katie looked at her closely. ‘You might say that but I can tell you're angry with Mrs Mainwaring.'

‘No! Well, yes, I suppose I am. As far as I can see the affair is still going on, and that's not fair to Jayne. She might be a spoiled madam but she doesn't deserve a husband who strays.'

Caswell House loomed on the horizon and Katie quickened her steps, wondering what sort of reception she would get. She led the way to the back of the house and let herself into the scullery.

Susie was laying a tray with dainty cups and an elegant silver pot from which the fragrance of coffee emanated. ‘You're out of a job, then, Katie,' she said. ‘So sorry, love.'

Katie put down her basket and looked at Shanni. ‘Come upstairs and help me collect my things, will you?'

Shanni pushed ahead of her and, to Katie's surprise, made her way across the hall towards the drawing room. ‘We'll see what Dafydd has to say first, shall we?'

She knocked at the door in a peremptory manner and pushed it open. Jayne was sitting on the large sofa, her feet neatly crossed, and Dafydd was flicking through a sheaf of papers.

‘Shanni!' He looked up at her in surprise. ‘What are you doing here? I thought it was your day off. Is there more trouble down at the pottery?'

‘No, Dafydd, Pedr has sorted it out. I've come to talk to you about Katie here. She's been sacked and she doesn't know where to go.'

Jayne prickled visibly. ‘Yes, she has been dismissed and rightly so! And how dare you, Shanni Morgan, come into my house as if you own it? You'll be the next one out of a job, if you aren't careful.'

‘Calm down,' Dafydd said. ‘Tell me, Shanni, what's happened?'

‘Katie was shopping for Mrs Buchan and we were walking down the street talking. Jayne – Mrs Buchan didn't like it so she told Katie her job was finished.'

‘That's not all of it, Dafydd!' Jayne interrupted. ‘The girl answered me back. She was insolent to me and I will not tolerate it.'

With a sigh Dafydd put down the papers. ‘Go and get your things, Katie, and I'll drive you over to Mr Morton-Edwards' house. I'm sure he'll have a place for you.'

‘But, Dafydd,' Jayne protested, ‘you must let the girl find her own situation. Why should my father take her in?' She spun to face Shanni. ‘And trust you to be involved in all this! You can't keep away from my husband, can you?'

‘Jayne! Control yourself and act like a lady, not a fishwife.'

Katie watched the colour recede from Mrs Buchan's face, and felt almost sorry for her.

‘A fishwife, is it?' Jayne asked, her voice low with anger. ‘And I suppose you have always acted like a perfect gentleman, have you?'

‘Jayne,' his voice held a warning, ‘don't say something you might regret.'

Katie backed towards the door. If man and wife needed to argue, it should be done in private. Shanni, however, stood her ground, apparently enjoying every minute of the confrontation.

‘Oh, no, you must appear faultless, mustn't you, Dafydd? No one dares to speak of your shameful liaison with Llinos Mainwaring, do they? But everyone talks about you behind your back, Dafydd, and you know what they say?' She did not wait for a reply. ‘They say it is still going on now, husband. What have you to say about that?'

Dafydd ignored his wife and opened the door of the drawing room. ‘Ladies,' he said, ‘after you.' Katie almost ran from the room. ‘Get your belongings, Katie.' He spoke kindly. ‘As I said, I'll take you over to Mr Morton-Edwards' house as soon as the carriage is ready.'

Katie went upstairs with Shanni, who looked around her with shining eyes. ‘Well, that put Mrs High and Mighty in her place!' she said. ‘And even with all this wealth and luxury she doesn't know how to keep her husband happy.'

‘Hush!' Katie warned. ‘You don't want any of the other servants to hear, do you?'

‘I don't give a fig,' Shanni retorted. ‘Come on, now, let's get your things and join Dafydd, shall we?'

The ways of some folks were a mystery to Katie, and she wished she was back at Greenhill, living quietly at home with her parents. But they were dead and she was on her own now. She glanced at Shanni. No, not quite on her own, she had Shanni as a friend and – her heart missed a beat – she was walking out with Bull Beynon, the handsomest man in Swansea.

CHAPTER TEN

Bull ran his hands around the collar of his one good shirt, feeling hot in spite of the cold weather. He sat in the plush room of Government Buildings aware that he was being judged by the man seated before him. On him rested his future as a manager on the Great Western Railway.

‘So, Mr Beynon, you wish to become a manager?' Mr Morton-Edwards looked closely at him, sizing him up.

‘Yes, sir,' Bull replied. ‘I'm used to the railways, well versed in the stresses and strains of steel, and I know how to check the rolling stock and make sure the tracks are in good condition.'

‘But only in the way a navvy would be familiar with the workings of a railway, is that right?'

‘Not quite, sir. I read and write, I have studied plans with the engineers. I think I know a great deal more than a nayvy.' Bull's fate might have been in the hands of the man seated opposite him, but he had no intention of crawling to him.

‘Beynon is a remarkable man, Eynon,' Mr Cookson, who was also at the meeting, said slowly. ‘I have the utmost faith in his ability or I would not have raised the matter. He knows all about Mr Brunel and his work on the Landore Viaduct.'

Bull remained silent, studying Morton-Edwards, knowing how shrewd a businessman he was. The talk on the line was that he had acquired railway shares when they were scarcer than hen's teeth. As he was wealthy and influential it had not been long before he was asked to join the board of governors of the South Wales line.