Kingdom's Dream (23 page)

Without glancing back, Dafydd rode away from the town and followed the river as it wound its way through the manufactories where chimneys pointed to the leaden skies like a dark forest.

It was with little surprise that soon he found himself outside the pottery owned by Llinos Mainwaring. He dismounted and stood, rubbing his horse's flank, almost willing Llinos to appear. He saw the shimmering heat coming off the bottle kilns and breathed in the familiar smell of drying clay with a deep sense of loss.

Inside those walls were the two people he loved more than life itself: Llinos and Sion, the son born of a passionate union. At last he turned away. It was too late to go calling and, anyway, he knew he would not be welcome. He mounted his horse and rode as hard as he could to the loveless house he called home.

‘Papa, how nice to see you looking so well.' Jayne kissed her father's cheek, and hugged him in an uncharacteristic show of affection.

‘I'm delighted to see you too, my lovely daughter. Come and sit down. Let's have some tea together, shall we?'

Jayne took a seat and settled her skirts around her ankles. She looked at her father from under her lashes, wondering how she was going to broach the difficult questions she needed to ask. Last night Dafydd had not returned home until the early hours of the morning and she suspected he had been with Llinos. When she thought of them together her stomach twisted into knots and she felt bile rise to her throat.

‘To what do I owe the honour of a call from my little girl so early in the day?' Eynon asked.

‘Nothing, really. I just need to get out for a bit, Papa. Where's the tea you promised me?'

Eynon rang the bell and the maid responded at once. ‘Yes, sir?'

‘Oh, Katie, fetch some tea, there's a good girl, and ask Cook for some of those scones she's been baking.'

Katie nodded, and Jayne noted briefly that the girl looked pale and wan. She ignored her but wished now she had kept Katie sweet: who knew what bits of gossip she might have picked up?

‘The weather's brightening up now, thank goodness.' She looked out of the window, pretending to be interested in the garden. ‘I see the daffodils are flourishing.'

When the tea arrived she wondered how to start the conversation, but Eynon settled back in his chair and steepled his fingers. ‘Now, little darling, why are you really here? Is all well with you and Buchan?'

‘Yes.' Her reply came too fast. ‘Well, no. He came in very late last night and I was worried about him.'

‘Yes, I can believe it.' Her father's tone was dry. ‘But for most of the evening he was at the club.'

‘At what time did he leave, Papa? He didn't come home to me until about three in the morning.'

Eynon sat up straighter. ‘Good Lord!'

‘Good Lord indeed!' Jayne fought for control. ‘Who was he with until that time of the morning?'

‘Now, don't jump to conclusions, Jayne. I know that he was piqued because he still has no shares in the Great Western Railway. Perhaps he went for a walk.'

‘I have a distinct feeling that he went to see Llinos,' Jayne blurted out. ‘Papa, he still loves her – I can see it plain as day. Why did I allow myself to believe he cared for me?' Her father took her hand and kissed it.

‘Look, my lovely girl,' he said gently, ‘most marriages are made without real love but it doesn't mean they don't work. Just wait until you have his children. Dafydd will be the finest husband and father you could ever find.'

Jayne frowned. ‘Why are you taking his side?'

‘I'm not, Jayne. It's just that I'm more used to the ways of the world than you are.' He sighed. ‘As for him seeing Llinos, I doubt that very much. Young Sion has a spring fever and Llinos is an excellent mother. She would put her son before any other consideration, believe me.'

Jayne felt a glow of hope. ‘Are you sure about that, Papa?'

‘I'm sure, and even Dafydd would not be so foolish as to go visiting at that time of night.'

She brightened. He was right. Dafydd would not want the neighbours talking about his precious Llinos.

‘What should I do, then, Papa?'

‘Give it time, Jayne,' Eynon said. ‘Be clever and forge the links so strongly between you and Buchan that he won't be able to break them. Have a family, a brood of fine grandchildren for me to indulge.' He smiled. ‘It was because of you, my love, that I was loyal to your mother when she was alive. Now, cheer up. Once you give him a son Dafydd will be tied to you for life.'

Jayne smiled at him. ‘You're a wise old owl, aren't you?'

‘I've learned a few things about love and life,' Eynon said. ‘These lessons are not always easy to digest, Jayne, but they're all about becoming an adult.'

‘Thank you, Papa.'

‘What for?'

‘Just for being a sensible old father.' She smiled. ‘I'll be kind to Dafydd and not expect too much too soon. He thinks of me as a child still, and that is partly my fault for behaving like one.'

‘So, now that's settled,' Eynon said jovially, ‘let's have another cup of tea.'

Later, when Jayne sat in her carriage travelling towards her home, she thought over her father's words carefully. Battling with Dafydd, throwing accusations at him, would get her nowhere. She must learn to curb her jealousy, to make herself a model wife and mother. And tonight she would make a start by luring Dafydd to her bed and proving to him that she was an adult, passionate woman.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Bull had changed. Looking at him now over the scrubbed table in the little hut Rhiannon could see from the slope of his broad shoulders and the lack of spark in his eyes that he was unhappy. She knew that her chat with Katie was to blame, but she couldn't tell him the truth and risk losing him.

‘You haven't eaten much of your rabbit stew, Bull,' she said gently. ‘You've been working hard all day and you need good food in your belly.'

‘I'm not hungry, Rhiannon.' He avoided her eyes. ‘I think I'll just go down to the Castle and have a drink with the boys.'

‘But, Bull, it's getting late for walking into town, and you know what they can be like when they've been paid. Please, Bull, I don't want you involved in any fighting.'

Bull was already on his feet, swinging his coat over his shoulders. ‘Don't worry about me, girl, I'm used to dealing with the men. I wouldn't have lasted long as foreman if I'd let them walk all over me, would I?'

Rhiannon glanced at the battered clock on the shelf over the fire. It was just on nine. ‘You're going to meet her, aren't you?' The words tumbled from her lips before she had time to think. ‘She comes out of choir practice about now, doesn't she? Come on, Bull, don't lie to me.'

She saw his features harden. ‘Be careful, Rhiannon.' His voice was terse. ‘You are not my keeper and I don't answer to any man, so why should I answer to you?'

Rhiannon was past caring about what she said and the anger she'd suppressed for the last few months rose up inside her. ‘Be careful, is it? Do you mean you'll hit me if I don't shut my mouth, Bull?' She faced him, hands on her hips, cheeks red. ‘Go on, then, hit me! Be like all the other men in my life and take your anger out on me!'

He sighed. ‘Rhiannon, I have never hit you and I have no intention of doing so, but you can't order me about. Just get that into your head.'

Rhiannon hardly heard him. ‘You don't care about me any more. You haven't lain with me for months. Ever since you met that Katie Cullen you've been a million miles from me. It wouldn't work, Bull. Katie needs a proper home, a respectable man. She wouldn't look at you.'

‘Stop there now, Rhiannon.' There was warning in his voice, but Rhiannon ignored it.

‘She came here.' She knew she was playing with fire, but the words spilled from her lips. ‘Gave me a message, she did. I was to tell you to keep away from her. She doesn't want you, Bull. That sort of woman wants a gentleman for a husband.'

‘And what did you say to her?' He moved away from the door. ‘What did you say?'

‘I didn't want to hurt you, Bull, but take it from me that girl is not the one for you. She's little more than a spoiled child.'

Bull was white to the lips and Rhiannon's anger faded. She had gone too far.

‘Rhiannon, I think it's about time you found yourself another man.' His words fell like slivers of ice into her consciousness.

‘No, Bull! I'm sorry, I really am, I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have told you about Katie coming here.'

‘Look,' he paused, ‘you know I'm going to be promoted to manager, don't you?' He tried to speak calmly. ‘I'll have a proper home soon.' He took her hand. ‘I don't want to hurt you but I might as well tell you straight that you have no place in my life any more.'

‘Don't say that, Bull, please don't say that! I love you so much that it's like a pain inside my heart. I need you, Bull, I can't go back to the life I lived before, you know I can't.'

‘That's up to you, Rhiannon,' he said. ‘You can stay in this hut for as long as you need and perhaps, later, I could find you a position in one of the big houses.'

‘I don't want to skivvy for the rich women of the town. Scrubbing floors and curtseying to the gentry is not my idea of living.'

‘Well, as I said, that's up to you. I can't be held responsible for the way you choose to run your life.'

‘But, Bull, haven't I been good to you? I've washed your clothes and cooked your food and lived at the side of the track for a long time and never complained. I love you, Bull, more than Katie could ever love you.'

‘Tell me, Rhiannon,' Bull said quietly, ‘what did Katie really want when she came to see me?'

‘Oh, go and ask her!' Rhiannon turned away, her face in her hands. Bull knew then that she had been keeping something from him.

‘I intend to.' He opened the door and the chilly evening air rushed into the hut. Rhiannon hurried across the room in time to see him striding away in the direction of the town. ‘Bull, will you be back tonight?' she called, but her words were carried away on the wind.

Jayne was worried. She thought that by now she should have conceived Dafydd's child. She was beginning to wonder if there was anything wrong with her. She had spoken to her doctor, but old George Sullivan had only told her to be patient and let nature take its course. But nature was not taking its course: it seemed to need a helping hand.

She could always go to see Mrs Keen, the midwife. She had brought many babies into the world, and it was said she had helped some to slip out, too. Any disfigured or damaged child was quietly smothered at birth. At least, that's what Jayne had heard.

Apart from being the local midwife, Mrs Keen was something of a sage. She would give medicine to those who needed it. But how discreet was she? Jayne wouldn't like everyone gossiping about her. No, she could not lay herself open to gossip of that sort. But early the next day, Jayne found herself riding her pony away from the western part of the town and towards Fennel Court where Mrs Keen lived.

If the old woman was impressed by Jayne's good clothes and air of good breeding she did not show it. Jayne glanced around the tiny house and noted that while it was sparsely furnished it was spotlessly clean. That cheered her a little.

‘Sit down, ma'am,' Mrs Keen said politely, ‘and tell me what ails you. Perhaps I'll be able to help.'

‘I'm not sick,' Jayne said diffidently. ‘It's just that I've been married for a while now and I would dearly like to have a baby.' There. The words were out.

Mrs Keen nodded. ‘Well, I have to ask if your husband is vigorous in the bedchamber, ma'am. I'm sorry to be so personal but it is important.'

‘He's like most husbands.' Jayne heard a touch of bitterness in her voice. ‘He comes to me when he's ready and not before.'

‘As you say, that's what most husbands are like. So there's no problems, then?'

‘Not real problems, only the everyday ones that confront a married woman.' Jayne had no intention of going into detail.

‘Very well,' Mrs Keen said. ‘I can give you something to take that will make you relax while your husband . . . Well, you know, and then you might just catch for a baby.' She was about to speak again when someone knocked at the door. She got to her feet. ‘Excuse me, I won't be a minute.'

Jayne shrank back into her seat as the old woman opened the door. She didn't want to be seen.

‘Can I come in, Mrs Keen?' The voice was familiar and Jayne sat up to listen intently.

‘I got company now, Shanni,' Mrs Keen said, ‘but are you feeling better? You still look a little pale. Why don't you come back later and I can give you something for your blood. Slipping a baby always takes it out of you.'

Jayne muffled an exclamation of shock. Shanni Morgan had been expecting a baby and Mrs Keen had helped her to lose it? But why? Shanni was a respectable married woman and there was no reason on earth why she should not have children. Unless . . . unless the child had not been her husband's.

‘I'm feeling awful poorly, Mrs Keen,' Shanni said, and Jayne noticed that she had slipped back into the language of Fennel Court.

‘Well, that will teach you not to go with the gentry,' Mrs Keen said. ‘They don't care where they sow their seeds as long as they get their satisfaction.'

So Shanni had slept with a gentleman, but what man of breeding would sleep with the likes of her? A dreadful thought came to her. The one man Shanni saw day in and day out was Dafydd.