Kingdom's Dream (15 page)

The bed was cold without Pedr's reassuring body beside her, and she knew now how much she loved her husband. She had loved him all along.

‘Oh, Pedr, my love, what have I done to you?' Deep, painful sobs racked her body. She wanted Pedr to take her in his arms and tell her he loved her. She wanted to put back the clock to change all that had happened tonight. Lying there in the darkness she wondered if she would ever feel clean again.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘Now, Dafydd, I will not accept a refusal from you this time. You are coming to see Papa with me and no excuses.'

Dafydd sighed. His wife could be such a child sometimes – she thought she only had to say the word and he would agree to everything she suggested. Still, it was about time he made an effort to get on with Eynon. ‘Very well, I'll come with you, but if your father starts to look down his nose at me I'll just walk out.'

‘I've talked to Papa and he will be pleasant, so you must be too.' Jayne smiled coyly. ‘I told him that his grandchildren would not take kindly to a rift between the two of you.'

She had Dafydd's full attention now. ‘Jayne, are you trying to tell me you are with child?' His spirits lifted. A son would make his marriage almost happy.

‘No, silly!' Jayne shook her head, and curls bobbed around her face. ‘We haven't been in bed together since I last saw my . . .' She looked at him from under her lashes. ‘But I will leave my bedroom door open for you tonight, shall I?'

‘Yes, of course, darling.' He kissed her cheek, wishing he could summon some enthusiasm but he found Jayne a bore in bed. She acted like an immature girl, lying quiescent beneath him. Even Shanni Morgan had shown more imagination.

At the thought of Shanni, Dafydd pulled himself up short. He should be ashamed of himself. He had taken advantage of the girl's infatuation with him. He had no excuse. She was a married woman in love with her husband, and he had been wrong to coax her into betraying her vows.

‘Pay attention, Dafydd, I'm asking your opinion.'

‘What were you saying?'

‘I want you to help me decide what clothes to take over to Papa's house.'

‘How long are we staying there, for goodness' sake?' Dafydd spoke impatiently.

‘We'll be having tea and I'll need a day-time gown for that, and then I will have to dress for dinner because Papa is inviting guests. I can't let you down, Dafydd – what would people think if Dafydd Buchan's wife was improperly dressed?'

Dafydd did not give a damn what people thought – he had never pandered to public opinion and had no intention of starting now. Still, the proprieties were important to his wife and he forced himself to give her his attention.

‘I like you in all your gowns, Jayne. I know you have impeccable taste so I'll leave the matter in your hands.' He paused. ‘I particularly like you in blue, though. It complements your fair complexion.'

He had said the right thing. Jayne dimpled at him, her eyes shining, and suddenly he felt guilty. It took so little effort to make his wife happy so why didn't he try a little harder? Once he had been caring, considerate of the feelings of others, but as he had grown older he had become more cynical. Just look at the way he'd used Shanni to relieve his boredom.

But life had dealt him some hard knocks: the one woman he wanted was out of his reach, and he could not even acknowledge his young son. He cursed Joe Mainwaring. The man had taken Llinos back but now he had gone off to America, expecting Llinos to live like a nun, a prisoner in her own house.

‘You've gone all quiet on me again, Dafydd,' Jayne said. ‘Is there something on your mind?'

He shook his head. ‘I was wondering how I could get my hands on some railway shares. I wish I'd bought them when I had the chance.'

The look on his wife's face was a little smug. ‘What?' he asked. ‘Have you heard anything about the shares – anyone selling out, perhaps?'

‘No, nothing like that. Now, come along, Dafydd, go and get ready or we'll be late for tea with Papa.'

Perhaps he had underestimated Jayne, Dafydd thought. She was up to something, but what was it?'

‘All right, I'll be an obedient husband and do as you say.' He took her in his arms. ‘And I shall look forward to seeing your bedroom door open tonight.' He kissed her hair. If there was a time to learn any of Jayne's secrets it would be after love-making. She always seemed quiet, almost subservient, then.

Jayne snuggled into his shoulder and Dafydd felt a rare moment of tenderness for his bride, which pleased him because one day, Jayne, scatterbrained Jayne, would be the mother of his children.

Llinos looked out of the carriage window at the mellow old house belonging to Eynon Morton-Edwards. They had been friends for as long as she could remember and in many ways she loved him, but it was only because of their friendship that she had agreed to join Eynon and his guests at the lavish dinner party this evening.

She felt a tinge of unease in knowing that Dafydd would be there, but it was inevitable that they would continue to meet for he was Eynon's son-in-law. How comfortable life would be if she could just shut herself away from the world.

As she alighted from her carriage, she saw Father Martin, as plump and angelic as always, standing in the doorway of the large house. ‘I just pipped you to the post, Llinos, my dear.' He took her hand and kissed it. ‘I must say you look charming as ever. I shall insist that I sit next to you when we eat, and any morsel you leave I shall gobble up. You know what an appetite I have.'

Llinos admired Martin. He might be a clergyman but he was never judgemental: he took people as they were, sins and all.

‘Why are you so kind to me, an outcast among the gentry of Swansea?' she asked quietly.

‘Well, my dear, if Jesus Christ could make a friend of Mary Magdalene then I can certainly be friends with a lady who has made a few mistakes in life, can't I?'

Together they went indoors to where two maids were waiting to take their coats. A babble of voices from the drawing room told them of the earlier arrival of other guests, and Llinos froze. Martin put his hand under her elbow and propelled her into the room. The assembled company fell silent, but Eynon broke the spell. He moved towards her, eyes shining with pleasure. ‘Welcome, to two of my favourite people. Come and sit down – we were just going to listen to Jayne play the pianoforte.'

Llinos felt eyes resting on her as she took a seat on the sofa beside one of Eynon's guests. The man moved closer to her, and Llinos knew what he was thinking: that she was a woman without scruples, an easy target for his dishonourable intentions. She was pleased when Martin squeezed between them, forcing him to move away.

She looked up to see that Dafydd was watching her. He nodded briefly as his eyes met hers, and she pretended not to notice his gesture of recognition.

Jayne seated herself at the pianoforte and as her fingers ran lightly along the keys the soft, haunting strains of Beethoven's ‘Moonlight Sonata' filled the room.

Llinos glanced at Dafydd and saw, with a pang of pain, that he was watching his wife as though amazed. Jayne's fingers flew across the keys, now softly and then more boldly, as she played an expressive passage. She really was talented.

When Jayne finished the sonata Dafydd began the clapping and Llinos bit her lip, feeling the sting of jealousy as she dutifully joined in with the applause.

Eynon went to his daughter and kissed her cheek. ‘You see what a talented daughter I have?' His face showed his pride in Jayne's accomplishment. ‘We are to go into dinner now but I will try to persuade Jayne to favour us with some more of her playing later.'

Llinos had been seated next to Eynon and Martin was at her other side. His eyes were already resting on the laden table. ‘This looks good enough to eat!' he quipped. ‘But, first, let us pray.'

As he said grace Llinos closed her eyes, wishing herself a million miles away. She was getting too old for all this emotion.

Having said grace, Martin was the first to pick up his napkin. His eyes gleamed with unashamed relish as the mutton soup was served, steaming hot and rich with meat and vegetables. ‘Delicious. Do try to eat some, Llinos, it will do you good.' Then he leaned closer and whispered, ‘You must keep up your strength, my dear Llinos. Don't let the glares of the old biddies here spoil your appetite.'

Llinos dipped her spoon dutifully into her dish and began to eat. Martin was right: going hungry would not solve anything. Yet she had little appetite: she could not forget that seated opposite her was the man who had been her lover, had fathered her son, and was now with his wife, apparently besotted with her.

She saw Eynon watching her, and when he caught her eye he smiled encouragingly. Eynon and Martin were true friends, and she must learn not to care about the spiteful gossip of other people who meant nothing to her.

‘Martin,' Eynon said, ‘have you heard that the railway is on course to come into Swansea next summer?'

‘I have indeed.' Martin popped a slice of pork into his mouth and began to chew industriously. Food was far more important to Father Martin than railways.

‘The station is only half built.' Dafydd leaned forward in his chair. ‘I can't see it being ready in time.' His eyes shone with interest. ‘I understand Brunel himself will be on the first train into Swansea. Now, there's a man I admire.'

‘A fine engineer,' Eynon nodded, ‘but the broad-gauge line will never take off. The narrow tracks will win through.'

‘Enough of this, gentlemen!' Jayne rapped her knife on the table. ‘Just wait until the ladies have withdrawn before you talk business, if you please.'

Dafydd seemed amused at his wife's air of authority and made her a mock bow. ‘Quite right, Jayne. We are being very rude and I, for one, offer my heartfelt apology.'

Llinos attempted to enter into the good-natured laughter that followed. Jayne was smiling at her husband and then, tenderly, she touched his hair, smoothing it down over his collar.

Llinos knew she was wrong to covet another woman's husband, but Dafydd had been
her
love in the past. Under the table she pressed her hands together to stop them shaking.

At last, the meal was over and Jayne rose, which was the signal for the ladies to retire to the drawing room. Llinos seated herself near the windows, an outsider in the room full of gossiping women. She listened half-heartedly to the trivial discussion about hats and gowns and the dreadful cost of hiring servants. What narrow lives these women led.

‘Aunt Llinos,' Jayne's voice roused her from her thoughts, ‘why are you so quiet? Do you miss your husband and son?'

Every eye turned in her direction and Llinos tried to speak lightly. ‘Of course I do, but they are in the great plains of America having a fine adventure.'

‘Well, you can't begrudge them that, can you?' Jayne's eyes were fixed on her.

‘Of course I don't. I like to see them both happy.'

‘I think you keep quite a few people happy.' Jayne's words rang with spite. ‘Especially the menfolk.'

Laughter rippled through the room and colour rose in Llinos's cheeks. She stared at Jayne, and the girl had the grace to look away.

‘Other women's husbands.' The whisper from one lady was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room. Llinos stood up and smiled at them disdainfully.

‘When men have such dull wives who can only talk about servants and other trivia, it's no wonder their husbands seek diversion in more amusing company.'

Jayne sat back in her chair in command of herself. ‘You might once have enjoyed these men you talk about but your time is past now, Llinos. You are an old woman.'

‘Is that why your husband sought me out only the other day, Jayne?' As soon as the words were spoken Llinos regretted them. Jayne had drunk a little too much wine but she did not deserve to be shamed in front of her guests.

She moved towards the door, but Jayne was there before her, barring her way. ‘You're lying, admit it! You're making it up about Dafydd wanting you, aren't you?'

The uncertainty in the girl's voice touched a chord in Llinos. ‘I might have misunderstood his intentions,' she said slowly. ‘Perhaps Dafydd was merely being kind to an old lady.' Her voice was edged with sarcasm in spite of her pity for the wretched look on Jayne's face.

‘I hate you, Llinos!' Jayne said. Her voice rose. ‘You're a harlot and you should not be allowed to mix in polite society. I think it's time you left. Don't come back here.' She was shouting now. Suddenly the door opened and Eynon was standing there, his face white. ‘Is this a meeting of fishwives?'

Llinos wanted to hide. ‘I'm sorry, Eynon. It was a mistake for me to come here tonight.'

‘Llinos, what has happened? What was all the shouting about?' Dafydd, followed by the other men, came into the room.

Jayne turned on him. ‘This – this harlot tells me you've been making improper advances to her. Is it true, Dafydd?'

He looked at Llinos, his eyes guarded. ‘I'm sure there has been some misunderstanding. Llinos is not a lady to throw about such accusations lightly.'

‘Ask the other ladies, if you don't believe me.' Jayne was beside herself. ‘There is no misunderstanding, Dafydd. You have slept with her and you still want her.'

‘I married you, Jayne,' Dafydd said sternly, ‘and I have been faithful to my marriage vows. Now, enough of this gossip. I'm ashamed to hear it in front of your father's guests and I will not tolerate it any longer.'

He turned to Eynon. ‘I'm sorry there has been a scene, but you brought together the wrong people this evening.'