Daughters of Rebecca (24 page)

Llinos lay in Dafydd's arms, staring through the window at the night sky. He had made love to her as always with a deep passion yet she felt unsettled. For the first time she wondered if what she and Dafydd had was simply a transient dream that would one day vanish as quickly as it had come.

‘You're far away, Llinos.' Dafydd brushed her long hair from her face and kissed her mouth lightly. ‘Not worried about that husband of yours, are you?'

‘I am. Just a little,' she admitted. ‘What if he became violent?'

‘I can handle him.' Dafydd spoke with the arrogance of the young. He had little knowledge of Joe's prowess, his speed of foot, his strength. Dafydd was a brave man but he would be no match for Joe.

‘Still,' Llinos said, ‘Joe's not a violent man. I can't think he would resort to pistols at dawn.' Her voice was light, but who was she trying to convince? Herself or Dafydd?

‘Forget Joe.' He kissed her lips, aroused once more, and Llinos turned into his arms determined to enjoy the sweetness of his touch.

He took her more gently, his hands caressing her naked skin, his mouth warm against her breasts. ‘I love you, Llinos,' he said hoarsely, and she trembled, wondering at the power of the emotion she kindled in the man at her side.

Later, she leaned on her elbow and looked down into his face. He had the dreamy look of a man who had made love, and she adored him for it. How long was it since Joe had looked like that?

She touched his face lightly with her lips, aware of the responsibility she had for his happiness. She believed him when he told her he loved her. Dafydd was not the sort of man who used pretty words to flatter a woman.

‘Where are we going, Llinos?' he said, sitting up and leaning back against the brass head-rail of the bed. He was so handsome but so completely the opposite to Joe.

‘What do you mean, my love?' she said, but she knew exactly what he meant. Was she ready to face it? That was the question that worried at her in the still moments of the night.

‘I mean, when are we going to stop this pretence and set up home together? I don't mean hurried visits but for us to live as man and wife.' He smoothed her hair as she snuggled into the warmth of his shoulder.

‘I don't know if I could do that to Lloyd,' she said gently. ‘He still believes his father and I are in love.'

‘And are you?'

‘Dafydd, please don't. I'm so confused with anger and uncertainty, I don't know how to think straight any more.' She frowned. ‘Am I standing in the way of your finding a good wife?' she asked softly. ‘I can't have any more children so we could never have a family of our own. You would be sacrificing a lot to be with me. We would have
to move right away from Swansea, you know that, don't you?'

‘So what?' he said. ‘We could find a little farm in Carmarthen somewhere.' He smiled. ‘Then I could still work the pottery and carry on my campaign with the rebels.'

Llinos watched the pale dawn poke fingers through the drapes, patterning the room with light and shade. Outside, the world would be waking, folk would be breaking their fast and preparing for work. It was strange how life continued normally around her while she was in turmoil.

‘Why don't we wait until you have won the battle of the gates fairly and squarely?' she suggested. ‘Perhaps then we should move away from Wales. We could even go to America, live near my old friend Binnie Dundee. He's a potting man too.'

‘Ah, Llinos, I see you are not ready to make the final break from Joe,' he said softly.

‘It's not that!' But even as she denied it she knew it was the truth. Was she ready to admit even to herself that her marriage to Joe was well and truly dead? If it was, why did she keep thinking about him?

When Dafydd had left her, she watched from the window as he rode his horse along the lane that led to the road to Llanelli. He needed to give more of his attention to his pottery, and they both knew it. The venture was still in its infancy and with Ceri Buchan still ill from his wounds it fell on Dafydd to make sure that nothing was left to chance.

Llinos asked the maid to boil water for a bath. Her nerves were taut and she felt she would fall apart into little pieces unless she managed to calm her mind. Later, as she luxuriated in warm water she studied her still slender body. The only change was that her breasts were fuller, standing proud now as the cold air touched her skin. She began to feel more optimistic: not only had she proved a passionate lover to Dafydd but she had helped him a great deal in his business. She had emphasized the need for good oven workers: the men who worked on the kilns needed knowledge and experience to build just the right temperatures for the successful firing of china.

She dressed slowly and sat before the mirror, brushing her hair into some sort of order. It was still thick and strong, curling on her shoulders and, in that moment, in the half-light, she looked like a young girl.

But she was no young girl. She was a middle-aged woman, and she should have more wisdom than to waste the life of a younger man, tying him to her when he should be looking for a wife.

Shanni's declaration of love for Dafydd had shaken her. Several times she had almost broached the subject, hoping Dafydd would laugh it off, but in the end she had kept quiet, frightened that he would see the girl in a different light. He might realize that Shanni was no longer a girl but a beautiful young woman. ‘Damn!' she said aloud. ‘Why is life so complicated?' She stared at herself in the mirror. Suddenly she looked old,
with shadows beneath her eyes and worry lines around her mouth.

She rose from the stool and took a deep breath. It was time she went home – and high time that she did some serious thinking about her future.

SHANNI LOOKED UP
at Dafydd, her heart thudding with happiness. He was illuminated in a flash of the fading sun and he seemed exalted, a man with great things on his mind.

She was glad of the moment alone with him: Madame Isabelle was in the other room talking to Eynon Morton-Edwards. Shanni knew from experience that she would return flushed, looking like a woman in love. She wondered if the same expression of softness and joy was on her own face as Dafydd talked to her. She longed to declare her love for him, to beg him to treat her like a woman, but something told her this was not the time.

‘Pedr has been asking after you,' Dafydd said. ‘I think he has a soft spot for our little rebel girl.'

Shanni bit her lip. Dafydd was treating her like a child again. ‘Well, I haven't got a soft spot for him!' she said sharply. ‘I think Pedr is a nice enough boy but rather immature,' she added, feeling proud of her new awareness of language.

‘Really?' Dafydd sounded amused. ‘I can see
you're a fine lady, very grown-up and beautiful too.'

Was he flirting with her? Greatly daring, she leaned closer. ‘I prefer the more mature man. A man like you,' she said, then blushed and was embarrassed by her own forwardness. She must learn to be subtle, to be more tactful.

‘Well, then, I'm flattered!' There was a hint of laughter in Dafydd's voice.

‘Don't make fun of me!' She turned and looked at him, determined to change the line of the conversation. ‘Anyway, what's more important is when the next attack on the gates will be.'

‘Tonight.' He glanced at his pocket watch, which gleamed gold in the light from the window. ‘I'd better be going if I'm to get to Efailwen in time to join in the action.'

He rose to his feet and Shanni followed him to the door. He turned and she almost cannoned into him. He put his hands on her shoulders, and Shanni felt a thrill of sheer pleasure run through her body. ‘Tell Isabelle I'm sorry to leave without seeing her.' He listened to the voices across the hallway. ‘It seems she's still busy with her guest.' He winked at Shanni, and then his lips touched hers softly, like the brush of a petal. ‘See you soon, little one.'

Shanni watched from the window as he rode away, a magnificent figure on his silky-coated horse, man and beast touched by the rays of the dying sun.

‘Efailwen,' Shanni murmured to herself. She envied the men their right to be at the scene when the gates were destroyed. The excitement of
tearing down the gates, a symbol of authority, was something she longed for. She lifted her head and stared at the clock. She could follow Dafydd if she acted quickly.

She ran up the stairs and pulled on the dark riding habit Llinos had bought her. She needed something to cover her head – a shawl would do.

She went through the wardrobes and at last, in the maid's room, Shanni found an old, worn shawl and a discarded bonnet. She dressed in them quickly and hurried back down the stairs.

‘Madame?' Shanni called, as she knocked on the door of Madame Isabelle's study. ‘I'm going over to see Pedr. I shan't be long.'

Without waiting for a reply, she hurried outside, closing the front door with a snap of finality. She was not lying, she told herself, she
was
going to visit Pedr, but with the sole purpose of making him take her with him to the gate at Efailwen.

She felt as light as air as she hurried through the fields towards the roadway. She was going to have some excitement and surely Dafydd would applaud her actions. She thought of the touch of his hands on her shoulders, the lightness of his mouth against hers, and she laughed in sheer joy.

Llinos was restless. She was not seeing Dafydd tonight and she knew only too well the reason why. Dafydd was riding with the rebels, the Beccas, they called themselves. The men were going to storm another gate, incensed by yet another rise in the tolls. It now cost a farmer twelve shillings and sixpence to travel a distance
of thirteen miles. It was a disgrace, and something had to be done about it.

Llinos felt lonely. The house seemed to close in around her. Strangely, as a child she had never felt lonely, not even when her mother died. But then she had been young and resilient, a girl with ambition and drive. What was she now?

Even though she and Shanni were not the best of friends, Llinos wished the girl was not staying with Isabelle for the night. If nothing else, Shanni was lively company.

The doorbell jangled, breaking the silence, and Llinos looked up, her heart thumping. Had Dafydd changed his mind? Had he come for her after all?

But it was Joe's voice she heard in the hall and she sank back in her chair, unwilling to face yet another scene.

He came into the room quietly, as he always did, and he looked big and handsome, with a proud arrogance to his features. His long hair hung to his shoulders and the streak of white could be seen clearly in the light from the candelabra.

‘I have to talk to you.' Joe sank into a seat, without waiting for invitation. ‘It's about Lloyd.'

Llinos put her hand over her heart. ‘Is he ill? What is it, Joe?'

‘No – at least, not in body. In spirit he is troubled by the problems facing his parents.'

‘How does he know?' Llinos asked, alarmed.

‘You need to ask when Lloyd is my son? He's well aware of the friction between us. He is also aware you have a lover. The boy is not stupid.'

‘And he is well aware that you had a mistress by whom you sired a son,' Llinos retorted. ‘He knows only too well how many times you were absent with your whore when I was in trouble and needed you.'

‘Llinos, in the name of all the saints, stop saying that,' Joe said. ‘Every time we argue you go over old ground.'

‘What do you expect?' She was furious. ‘I have been humiliated for years by your faithless ways. You have only yourself to blame for losing me.'

‘
Have
I lost you, Llinos?'

‘I don't know what to think any more!' Llinos put her hand to her head. ‘I can't trust you, Joe. Every time you go away I'm wondering if there's another woman tucked away somewhere.'

‘We must forget our feelings for the moment,' he said. ‘All this is upsetting Lloyd's studies. He is determined now to abandon college and come home.'

‘I know better than you what Lloyd feels,' Llinos said. ‘And if he had seen more of his father when he needed him things might be different.' She paused, rubbing her brow. ‘You must tell Lloyd it's out of the question to leave college. He must not give up his chance of a good education.'

Joe raised his eyebrows. ‘And do you think talking will do any good? Lloyd is almost a man. You can't order him about as if he was a child.'

‘To me he
is
a child,' Llinos said. ‘And I tell you this, Joe, if you think you will force my hand, make me give up Dafydd, you can forget it!' She took a deep breath, trying to be calm. ‘If you
allow Lloyd to come home I will move out and live openly with Dafydd, do you understand me?'

‘Certainly, and so do half the people of Pottery Row!' He smiled grimly. ‘They are all quite acquainted with your affair.'

‘Oh, get out!' Llinos turned away from Joe's bitterness. ‘I will go to see Dafydd tonight. I will stop him visiting me here. I will just stay with him more frequently.'

Joe left the room on silent feet. He moved like the breeze, and in that moment her heart ached. Llinos put her hands over her face. ‘I loved you so much, Joe,' she said softly.

Shanni stared up at Pedr, her heart singing in triumph. She had argued fiercely about her right to ride with him and, at last, he had agreed. She reminded him of the pistols she had managed to get, and how she had sneakily returned them to their rightful place.

‘You are a stubborn, obstinate girl!' he said, swinging her up on his horse. Shanni wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his broad back, enjoying her power over him. He was falling in love with her, and she knew it.

The chill night air lifted her hair away from her face.

‘You're a lovely boy, Pedr,' she said. She could charm him, that much was obvious, but things would be better still if she could charm an experienced man like Dafydd.