Daughters of Rebecca (23 page)

It hurt to think that it was Binnie who had comforted Joe when he lost his Indian woman and her child. It somehow seemed to be a betrayal of their friendship that Binnie should sympathize with Joe but, then, men stuck together where matters like infidelity were concerned.

Llinos glanced unseeingly through the window, her thoughts bitter. Joe should have come back to her sooner. Then, perhaps, she would never have been tempted to sleep with Dafydd.

She forced her mind back to the matter in hand and reread the letter. She should be anticipating Binnie's visit with joy not sadness; he was like a big brother to her, so uncomplicated, so sensible.

She folded the letter away. She would reply at once, tell Binnie that he and Hortense were welcome to stay with her for as long as they wished. Impulsively, she kissed the paper. ‘My old friend Binnie is coming home. It will be so good to see him again,' she said.

Shanni looked up from her book. ‘Did you say something, Mrs Mainwaring?'

Llinos felt a sudden chill. The fickle sunshine had vanished. Clouds hovered threateningly over the Mumbles Head, and then the rain began to fall. She felt her spirits sink. ‘No, Shanni, I think I must have been talking to myself.' She realized at once how petty she must seem. She held out the letter. ‘Come, take this from me and read it aloud. I want to see how you've progressed.'

Shanni stretched her slim legs and flexed her dainty feet. ‘
Duw!
I'm getting stiff, sitting with my legs tucked under my skirt.' She took the letter, glancing at the address with a flicker of excitement.

‘It's all the way from America!' she said. ‘Who do you know out there, then?' She put her hand to her mouth. ‘I'm sorry,' she mumbled. ‘Your husband is American, isn't he?'

‘American-Indian,' Llinos replied. ‘And this letter is nothing to do with Joe. Binnie is a friend of mine. He worked here once, helped to build up the pottery to what it is today.'

‘Oh, I see, he's quite old, then?' Shanni lost
interest in the letter and dropped it on to Llinos's lap. ‘And it's not very well written, is it?'

Llinos hid her irritation. ‘Binnie is a dear friend. He saved me from disaster more than once.' Llinos stared out of the window, not seeing anything but her memories of the past. Binnie had tried to help her the day her stepfather had cornered her in one of the sheds and had been beaten half to death for his pains.

Llinos loved Binnie as a dear friend. There had never been any hint of a romance between them.

‘Binnie is a rich man now,' she said proudly. ‘He owns a pottery in a place called West Troy. He has a magnificent house and three lovely sons. I'm so proud of what he's achieved because Binnie, like you, grew up in poverty.'

Shanni ignored her last remark. ‘And he's coming here to visit? How old are his sons?'

‘Dan is the eldest. He's probably about your age, perhaps a little older.' She smiled at Shanni's open curiosity. ‘Looking for a sweetheart, are you?'

‘Not me!' She looked up at Llinos. ‘Can I confide in you?'

‘Of course you can.' Llinos sat near her and took her hands. ‘What is it? Have you fallen in love already?'

‘In a way.' Shanni did not meet her eyes. ‘I've met a most wonderful man. He's older than me, and I think he sees me as a child but I mean to win him over.'

Somehow, Llinos felt uneasy. There was a look in Shanni's eyes that could almost be described as spiteful. It was as if she was holding some secret
in her heart, something she knew would hurt Llinos. Her instincts were not wrong.

‘I'm in love with Dafydd Buchan,' Shanni said. ‘He's handsome and brave and, oh, I admire him so much!'

Llinos was frightened. Her mouth was dry when she tried to speak. ‘That's silly. He's so far too old for you, Shanni.'

‘But, then, you are much older than Dafydd,' Shanni said quickly. ‘In any case, you were in love when you were my age, weren't you? You do still love Mr Mainwaring, don't you?' She was challenging Llinos. Her attitude was one of defiance. She knew. Somehow she had found out that Llinos and Dafydd were lovers.

‘Would you advise me to tell Dafydd how I feel?' Shanni persisted, her expression bland.

Llinos took a deep breath. ‘I don't think so. In any case, I'd rather not talk about it.' Llinos swallowed hard. ‘Just don't do anything you might regret.'

She was silent then, wondering how Shanni had found out about the affair. Every move she made, every word she uttered spoke volumes. She wanted to take Dafydd away from Llinos.

‘Look, Shanni, you will meet many young men, suitable sweethearts, more your own age. You will soon get over your infatuation.'

Shanni shook her head. ‘No, I won't. From the moment I set eyes on Dafydd I wanted him. I suppose you think he's above me in station, that I'm not good enough for him, is that it?' Her voice was edged with anger.

‘No, I'm not saying that at all.' Llinos got up
and turned her back on the girl, her mind racing, jealousy searing her. How close had they been? Had Dafydd given Shanni so much attention that she thought she had a chance with him?

Outside the rain was dripping from the trees, the sky was heavy. There would be no break in the weather for some time to come.

Llinos rubbed her eyes, knowing she must tread carefully. ‘Never think you are unworthy of any man. You are an intelligent young woman. Just don't love unwisely, that's what I'm trying to say.'

‘Is it all, though, Mrs Mainwaring? I think you are angry with me and I don't understand why.'

Llinos spun round to face Shanni and the disgust in the girl's eyes was almost tangible.

‘Mind how you talk to me, girl!' Llinos said. ‘Remember why you are here in my house and who is paying for your education. Now, you're due a lesson with Isabelle soon. In any case, I can't stay here gossiping. I have work to do.'

She left the room and crossed the hallway, clasping her hands to stop them shaking. The clouds parted and, for a moment, pale sunshine highlighted the coating of dust from the clay that settled afresh on the glass panes every day.

Llinos sat at her desk and took out her drawing pad. It was time she thought up some fresh designs – at least she could still contribute something to the pottery. But her mind was not on her work: Shanni's words still echoed in her mind. Silly girl, how could she think that Dafydd would be interested in her? Had he encouraged her in any way? The thought nagged at her.

Llinos rested her chin in her hands and stared out into the garden. The rain had started again and beat down with a vengeance. She was filled with uncertainty. Shanni probably saw as much of Dafydd as she did. Every time Shanni stayed with Isabelle it seemed Dafydd was there too. Was he flattered by the attentions of a young and lovely girl?

She would be meeting Dafydd later that night and, at the thought, her heart fluttered in nervous excitement. Should she talk to him about Shanni's infatuation for him? That was all it was, of course – Shanni was too young to be truly in love. Llinos could see wherein the attraction lay: as well as being handsome Dafydd was a man of courage, a hero. But there was no way he would look at Shanni as anything other than a child. Would he?

She forced her concentration back to her drawing but it was pointless: her pencil refused to move across the page. The sound of voices in the hall came as a welcome distraction. She lifted her head, her senses alert, as she recognized Joe's tones.

Before she had time to rise from her chair he was in the room. ‘I want to talk to you,' he said, closing the door firmly behind him.

‘Really?' Llinos said, sarcasm evident in every nuance of her voice. ‘Should I be flattered?'

‘You have to stop this affair.' Joe's arms were folded across his chest. He was barring her way as though worried she might try to make her escape. ‘You are becoming the talk of the town.'

‘Fancy that!' Llinos turned her back on him, unable to bear the hurt in her husband's eyes. ‘That makes two of us, doesn't it?'

‘Look, Llinos,' he said, ‘I did you wrong and I am sorry for it, but it's one thing for a man to have a mistress and quite another for a married woman to take a lover. You will have not one shred of reputation left if you continue to flout the rules of society.'

Llinos turned to face him. ‘How dare you tell me how to behave? You are the worst sort of philanderer. You are a man who makes excuses so that he can enjoy bedding another woman with an easy conscience.'

Joe sighed heavily. ‘Sho Ka never meant anything to me, not in the way you did.'

Llinos felt anger flare at the mention of the Indian's name. Joe had lived openly with her on Llinos's own doorstep, and now he was adding lying to his list of crimes.

‘I told you, I spoke to your lover.' The words hung in the air and Llinos felt her shoulders tense. ‘I asked him to end this affair.'

Llinos rose quickly and walked over to where Joe was standing, exuding righteous indignation. She raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. ‘How dare you!' She was so angry that her voice came out as a croak.

‘You are my wife, or have you forgotten that?' Joe's words fell like chips of ice.

‘And you were my husband,' Llinos said. ‘And I respected you until you killed my respect by taking that Indian squaw to your bed. You even bought a house to keep her and your bastard child
in. What more could you do to betray me, Joe? Answer me that.'

He took a deep breath. He looked mighty and strong, and so very handsome. Why had he ruined everything between them?

‘Are you forgetting that you are speaking ill of the dead?' His voice was husky.

‘No.' Llinos sank back into her chair. ‘But I am very much alive, Joe, and I need love and comfort, and I need to know that the man I am with is faithful to me.' She looked up at him. ‘I need that like parched ground needs water. You failed me, Joe. I want nothing more to do with you.'

She picked up her drawing pad and her hand was trembling. ‘Close the door on your way out.'

He left the room silently, like a whisper of the breeze, and as Llinos stared at the carved wooden panels of the door she grieved for all she had lost when Joe had given his body, perhaps his soul, to another woman.

But now she had Dafydd, and her heart rose at the prospect of seeing him, of lying in his arms feeling young again. She frowned. What would he think of Joe's visit? Would he end their relationship? Would he be worried about the scandal if Joe challenged him openly? No. Dafydd was as brave a man as Joe. He would fight to the death for what he wanted.

She threw down her pencil. All the joy of the morning, of Binnie's letter and her excitement at the prospect of seeing Dafydd that evening, had vanished like a puff of smoke. Between them, Joe and Shanni had taken away her peace of mind.

‘But you cannot let this affair of yours interfere with our plans.' Isabelle sat in her drawing room staring up at Dafydd Buchan with indignation in every line of her body.

‘Isabelle, you enjoy having a lover, don't you? Your Eynon Morton-Edwards courts you and you lie in his bed, so how can you blame me for wanting the love of a woman?'

‘There is a difference,' she said, in a hard voice. ‘Neither Eynon nor I are married. Are you forgetting that?'

‘I'm forgetting nothing,' Dafydd said mildly. ‘You are a single woman, as you point out, and you are intimate with a man who is not your husband. Not the behaviour of a lady, if you'll pardon me saying so.'

He had a point and Isabelle inclined her head, conceding that he was right. ‘Let's not argue about this,' she said at last. ‘I have told you my opinion, and now we have far more important matters to consider.'

‘I know. Do you mind if I sit down?'

‘Of course not.'

The maid knocked and entered the room, holding a tray. The aroma of hot chocolate came with her and Dafydd sniffed appreciatively. ‘Something smells good.' Isabelle returned his smile, knowing she was forgiven for intruding into what was, after all, his private life.

‘I think the next move is to attack the gates along the stretch of the Nant y Caws,' he said quietly. ‘There are three gates in an area of only a mile. It's disgraceful.'

‘But hopefully we can avoid a violent confrontation,' she said, though in her heart she knew that violence was inevitable. She saw Dafydd's raised eyebrows. ‘I know, it's an impossible thing to ask. Knocking down and burning gates is bound to arouse protest from the keepers.'

She glanced at the clock, noting that she had barely an hour to get ready for dinner.

Dafydd saw her look. ‘Expecting visitors?' he asked innocently.

‘That's right.' Isabelle smiled suddenly. ‘I'm expecting Eynon, as well you know. In any case, I'm sure you are in a hurry to meet your, your . . .' Her voice trailed away into silence.

‘My lady-love,' Dafydd supplied, his face sombre. ‘I'm in love with Llinos, I want her for my wife but that's not possible while her faithless husband is alive.'

Isabelle rose and touched his shoulder. ‘Be careful, Dafydd. You're a good friend and I would hate to see you hurt. Now, drink your chocolate and be off with you. I need at least an hour to make myself presentable.'

Dafydd drained his cup and rose to his feet, studying Isabelle with fresh eyes. She was a statuesque woman, her abundant hair fashioned into a bun at the back of her head with small tendrils hanging around her face. ‘No need for paint and powder, my dear Isabelle, you are lovely as you are.' He kissed her cheek and made for the door. ‘I can see why your Eynon is so adoring.'

‘Go on with you and stop your flattery! And take care, Dafydd.'

She watched him ride away along the lane and
her heart lightened. Soon she would be with her lover and she would put out of her mind all the ills of society. At least for the time being.