Daughters of Rebecca (27 page)

Her conscience smote her. She had no right to be bitter against Llinos. If it were not for her Shanni would be living in poverty in the back-streets of Swansea. Still, her stomach churned as she thought of the love in Dafydd's eyes, love for an older woman, a woman already married, and her anger returned.

‘We'd better get back home,' she said at last. ‘I don't want to be called a slut, do I, Pedr?'

‘You are a lady and no-one could say different.' He smiled. ‘Mind, you're a bit wilful. You would need taming if you were my wife.'

She laughed, glancing up at him through her eyelashes. ‘And who says I would think of marrying you, Pedr Morgan? You're just a potter. I want a rich man for a husband, someone who has plenty of money and a fine house and . . .' she waved her hands ‘. . . well, everything.'

‘I'd get you all that if I could,' Pedr said, but his eyes were merry. ‘I would climb mountains and sail the seven seas if I could have you for my wife.'

‘I'm sure!'

Her sarcasm was not lost on Pedr. ‘Well, I could at least work hard for you and give you a comfortable living,' he said reasonably.

‘But you're not being serious, are you, Pedr?'

‘Course not!' He caught her hand and forced her to run back along the riverbank towards the pottery. ‘Me? Married? What a terrible fate.'

He walked with her by the river below the pottery just as the Sunday bells rang out in the clear morning air. ‘See you tonight down at Madame Isabelle's house, if you're allowed to visit her again,' he said.

‘I'll be allowed,' she said. ‘I can get round Mrs Mainwaring any time I choose.' She touched her lips with her hands and threw him a kiss. And then she turned to take the river path and promptly forgot him.

‘Well, Binnie, it's lovely to see you again.' Llinos stood in the hall hugging her old friend. ‘And you haven't changed a bit.'

Binnie held her away from him. ‘And you, my dear Llinos, are as beautiful as ever.' He glanced
towards his wife, who was waiting patiently, a smile on her face, and Llinos smiled. ‘Hortense, you are welcome in my home. Where are your boys? Didn't they come with you?'

‘No, they think they're far too grown-up to travel with their parents, don't they, honey?' Hortense said.

‘They surely do!' Binnie shrugged. ‘They have their own friends, their own lives to lead, and I'm glad. I don't want my sons to be tied to their mother's apron strings.'

‘I know what you mean,' Llinos said. ‘Lloyd already thinks he knows better than his parents ever did. Come in, let the maid take your coats – and, Graves, get Merfyn to take Mr Dundee's bags upstairs, please.'

When they were seated in the drawing room, Llinos studied Binnie carefully. He was older, of course, and although his hair was as thick as ever it was touched with grey at the temples. Hortense looked well, her skin fresh, her eyes bright. Clearly, she was happy with her lot.

‘What's this I hear about the rioting that's been taking place?' Binnie's voice held a trace of an American accent. ‘Burning gates and tearing down buildings.' He paused. ‘It reminds me of old times when the folk of Pottery Row blew up the riverbank and flooded the area.'

Llinos remembered it too: she had been trapped, locked in a shed at the waterside. She shivered.

‘Aye,' Binnie continued, ‘old Mr Morton-Edwards lost his life that night and his new wife drowned with him when the river took away their
carriage.' He turned to his wife. ‘That villain antagonized the workers, alienated his son and almost killed Llinos into the bargain, all in the name of greed. Anyway, enough of the past. What's this rioting all about now, Llinos?'

‘The people are incensed that so many toll-gates are being erected,' Llinos replied. ‘It's costing the farmers so much to bring the lime to their land that it's ruining the trade.' She looked quickly at Hortense. ‘I'm sorry, Hortense, we don't want to talk about anything controversial today, do we?'

Llinos arranged to have tea, small sandwiches and cakes served in the conservatory. The weather had improved a little, spring was on its way and the wind blew in more kindly from the sea. In the conservatory, it seemed like summer.

‘It sure is as beautiful here as you said, honey,' Hortense laid her hand on her husband's knee, ‘but everything seems so small!'

Binnie smiled fondly. ‘Aye, my love, compared to America everything does look small but, for all that, Wales is a wonderful place.'

‘Where's Joe, Llinos? Not off on a trip again, is he?' Binnie spoke awkwardly, aware that some subjects were best not talked about in Llinos's company.

‘I'm sorry, but Joe is away seeing to his estates,' Llinos said quickly. ‘Still, Lloyd will be coming home from college any time now and I know he'll be glad to see you.'

‘You have only one child?' Hortense asked conversationally.

Llinos smiled. Binnie's wife was honest and
direct, someone she felt she could talk to. ‘I lost my daughter at birth,' Llinos said. ‘I have become guardian of a young girl, Shanni. She's an orphan but so intelligent. You'll meet her when she gets home.'

‘So good-hearted of you, Llinos,' Hortense said, but she had a faraway look in her eyes.

Llinos smiled wryly. ‘Joe had another family in America but, then, you know about that, of course.'

The sudden sound of hoofs in the courtyard startled Llinos; she was not expecting visitors. She half rose from her chair to peer through the conservatory windows but subsided, her heart sinking as Joe came into view. She hoped that he was not going to be difficult in front of guests.

‘Joe's come home,' she said flatly. ‘I'm sure he'll be happy to see you both. You were very kind to him in his loss.' The sarcasm in her voice was not lost on Hortense, who rested her hand briefly on Llinos's arm. The look of understanding in her eyes made Llinos want to weep.

A few minutes later, Joe came into the house and stood in the doorway of the conservatory. ‘Hello, my dear friends. I'm so happy to see you.' He smiled and shook hands warmly with Binnie, kissed Hortense on both cheeks and brushed Llinos's cheek with his lips, like a dutiful husband.

He had tied back his long hair and the streak of white was evident. He looked so distinguished, and if her head had not been full of Dafydd Buchan, Llinos would have flung herself into his arms.

Joe took a seat, appearing very much master of the house. Llinos felt aggrieved: it was she who had built up the pottery into a thriving business, she who had added extensions to the house. Joe had cared for his own business but never very much about hers.

‘You both look well,' Joe smiled at the visitors, ‘and we meet in happier circumstances today.'

Llinos tensed. In referring to his last visit to America, Joe had reminded her and everyone else that he had other interests, personal interests, abroad.

‘We are both well, thank you,' Hortense said quickly. She glanced worriedly at Llinos, sensing the atmosphere.

‘I've made a special trip to welcome you to my home as warmly as you welcomed me to yours,' Joe said easily.

‘Joe, hadn't you better bathe and change?' Llinos said sharply. She resented his proprietary attitude to the house, referring to it as ‘his' home. Since when had he contributed anything to it?

‘Llinos, leave the poor man alone,' Binnie said playfully. ‘We are all used to dust and the smell of horses, remember?'

Llinos watched as Joe accepted a drink from the tray the maid held towards him. When his eyes met hers it was she who looked away. She sank back in her chair, worry tugging at her mind. What would Joe do if Dafydd turned up unexpectedly? It was one thing for him to know that his wife was being unfaithful and another for him to face her lover on home territory. Would he
cause a scene? Damn him! Why had he come home now?

‘So how's the business doing, Joe?' Binnie asked, as he realized at last there was an air of tension in the room.

Joe got to his feet. ‘Let's go down to the river and talk, perhaps?' He glanced at Llinos. ‘The women can gossip to their heart's content without us around.'

Llinos watched as the two men walked away, Binnie the shorter man, stocky and strong, and Joe tall, elegant even in his dusty riding clothes. They seemed easy in each other's company, friends and colleagues, and it dawned on Llinos that there was still a great deal about Joe that she did not know. Who were his other friends and colleagues? Were they the businessmen of Swansea or was he like a wolf and always walked alone?

‘You seem troubled, honey.' Hortense spoke softly. ‘Is everything all right between you and Joe?'

Llinos looked down at her hands. She had no idea what to say. It would be impossible to tell Hortense the truth, that she had not slept with her husband for a long time or that she had a lover who might come calling at any moment.

‘I'm sorry, honey, I'm prying.'

Before Llinos could think of something to say she heard the bell ring through the house, shattering the quiet. She knew without being told that she had a visitor and that that visitor was Dafydd. Her worst fears were realized when the maid brought him into the conservatory.

Dafydd stood in the doorway. He only had eyes for Llinos and smiled lovingly at her. Llinos felt the heat of desire burn in her heart. ‘Mr Buchan,' she moved towards him quickly, holding out her hands, ‘do come and join us. You must meet one of our friends from America.'

Dafydd looked at Hortense. ‘I'm charmed to meet you.' He bent over as Hortense held out her hand.

‘This is Hortense Dundee, Binnie's wife,' Llinos said quickly. ‘Binnie and Joe have wandered away to gossip about boring business things.'

She was warning him that Joe was at home and he nodded. ‘Well, I can't stay too long, I'm afraid. I was just passing through Swansea and thought it rude not to pay my respects.'

‘Oh, please, Mr Buchan,' Hortense stumbled over the unfamiliar name, ‘do sit with us for a time and talk to us. I don't want to drive you away.' Dafydd glanced towards Llinos but Hortense spoke again. ‘Just for a few moments. You surely can't refuse a visitor from so far across the sea a little of your time.'

Reluctantly, Dafydd took the chair Joe had vacated a few minutes earlier. He accepted a drink of cordial from the tray and held the cup in his hands, studying the contents as though the rosy liquid might contain poison.

Llinos became aware that Hortense was watching him. She was nobody's fool and it was obvious she was intrigued by the tension in the air.

‘Oh, look, the menfolk are coming back.' She pointed to the edge of the garden. Llinos held her
breath and Dafydd sat rooted to his chair. He could not, would not run away. Llinos knew he was made of sterner stuff than that. She felt her colour ebb as her husband drew closer.

‘We have another visitor, Joe.' Llinos heard her voice crack; she was very conscious that Dafydd had come to stand beside her.

‘So I see.' Joe stood for a few minutes as Binnie took his place beside his wife. ‘Mr Buchan, how good of you to call,' Joe said evenly.

Dafydd took a step forward and the two men stood sizing each other up, as if about to lock horns in combat. Llinos held her breath, then Joe spoke again. ‘I won't take your hand, sir,' he said, in a clipped tone. ‘I fear there is too much between us to make a mockery of any show of civility.' He moved to the door.

‘Excuse me, Hortense, Binnie, I'd better change out of these dusty clothes. I will see you both at supper, which we will take in the dining room. Goodbye, Mr Buchan.'

Joe was dismissing Dafydd, asserting his right to be master in his own house. Llinos looked up at Dafydd, trying to read his reaction. His face was expressionless but his eyes burned with anger. Llinos took his arm. ‘Let me see you out, Mr Buchan.' When they were out of sight of the house, she put her arms around him and held him close.

‘Don't be angry and upset, Dafydd,' she said softly. ‘Joe might intend to stay in the house and I can hardly forbid him, but I will not be sharing his bed, you can be sure of that.'

‘Can I?' Dafydd put his hands on her cheeks.
‘I hadn't noticed before how handsome your husband is, how magnetic his personality. How can I compete with him?'

Llinos stretched up to kiss him. ‘You don't have to compete, my darling,' she said. ‘My passion is all for you.'

‘I have to go away tomorrow,' Dafydd said. ‘I need to do business in Bristol. I hoped we could spend the night together.'

They remained locked in each other's arms for a long moment. Then Llinos drew away. ‘Go home, Dafydd. As soon as I can I will make my excuses and come to you.'

‘Promise?' He seemed filled with uncertainty, and Llinos felt her heart contract.

‘I promise, Dafydd. The devil himself wouldn't keep me away.'

She watched him mount his horse, stared at his strong legs in his riding breeches with a rush of tenderness. What joy he brought her, what pleasure. He lifted his riding crop and wheeled his horse away from her. Its hoofs threw up dust as Dafydd rode at great speed towards the front gates of the pottery. Llinos bit her lip in fear for his safety: he was riding like a man possessed.

She returned to the house reluctantly. Perhaps later she could plead a headache and say she intended to retire early to bed. Then she would go to see Dafydd. She had to reassure him that nothing had changed. And, if she was honest, her body burned for his touch with a fire that needed to be quenched.

At supper, Hortense talked pleasantly about her sons and Joe leaned forward as though he was
listening intently, but Llinos knew he was aware of her every movement. The next few hours were going to be difficult.

Later, when supper had been cleared away, Llinos made her apologies. ‘Will you forgive me, Hortense? I must go to my room.' She smiled ruefully. ‘I'm afraid that being in the heat of the conservatory so long has given me a headache.'