Daughters of Rebecca (33 page)

Without another word, Lloyd disappeared through the door soundlessly, the way Joe did. Llinos sank into a chair and shut her eyes. Behind the lids, she saw Dafydd's worried face, heard the fear in his voice when she said she was leaving. She had hugged him to her and promised faithfully she would be back. And she
would
return to him, but when?

Another week had passed before Lloyd decided that his father was well enough to undertake the coach journey back to Swansea. Joe accepted his son's decision with unaccustomed meekness, grateful to let Lloyd take charge. He appeared, as Lloyd had claimed, to be a broken man.

As she sat beside him in the coach, Llinos looked out at the rolling green countryside. The Marches were the no man's land between England and Wales and to Llinos meant separation not only from her home but from her lover.

She felt Joe reach for her hand beneath the woollen rug and her first instinct was to draw away from him. Then she relaxed. What harm could it do to give him a little comfort on the long
journey? And long it was. The overnight stops at coaching inns were a nightmare, Llinos forced to share a bed with him. The first night, she put as much distance between herself and her husband as was possible, but when she woke in the morning, she was curled up in Joe's arms.

‘Dafydd, my love!' Llinos could not believe she was home at last. As soon as she stepped through the door of Dafydd's house he was there, waiting for her. And then she was in his arms, breathing in the scent of him, wanting the fit young hardness of him against her.

She pressed her lips to his and his tongue probed hers. Desire flamed through her. ‘Take me to bed, Dafydd,' she whispered. ‘Make me your own again.'

The house was silent as they went upstairs, even the cook and the maid were absent. Dafydd had planned it that way so that he and Llinos would meet for the first time in weeks with no distractions.

‘Let me undress you. I need to look at your perfect body. I can't wait to make love to you again.' He buried his face in her neck. ‘I was so afraid you wouldn't come back to me. I can't believe it even now with you here in my arms.'

His hands were gentle, untying ribbons, opening buttons but his need was great. Llinos could see the urgency in his eyes, feel it in the tautness of his body. She lay naked before him, praying she would be beautiful in his sight. She was a mature woman and Dafydd was a young man. How could he love her so much?

He kissed her lips, her neck, and then his mouth was hot on her breasts. She closed her eyes feeling as if she was melting in the intense heat of their desire. He moved into her easily – she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Llinos arched against him. Sensations of pleasure ran through her thighs and belly and seemed to reach to her very heart. Dafydd's hands were beneath her, lifting her even closer. He needed to possess her and she understood that need because she felt it as much as he did.

They rode together on waves of love and delight. Llinos risked looking up at him and his eyes were bright, shining down into hers, loving her with every glance. Every movement of his body was a message of love, and when the shuddering moment of release held them both in its spell Llinos cried out his name.

Afterwards, they lay entwined in each other's arms. He smoothed Llinos's tangled hair away from her face and kissed her brow. ‘My girl has come home to me,' she could hear the tears in his voice, ‘my sweet girl is here in my arms. I must be the happiest man in the whole world.'

Later, when they had bathed and dressed Dafydd took her to a coaching inn and ordered a meal of sizzling beef steaks stuffed with oysters. He filled her cup with fine wine and, content, they sat together silent and sated like an old married couple.

The wine loosened Dafydd's tongue, and he leaned even closer to her as they sat side by side on the oak settle near the fire. ‘You haven't slept
with
him
again, have you, Llinos? Please tell me the truth.'

‘I made a mistake once and I won't do it again,' Llinos said softly. ‘I didn't allow Joe to touch me, not even to rest his hand on my shoulder, and I can swear that on the Bible, if you like.'

He touched her cheek. ‘I believe you, my little girl,' he said softly. ‘I saw the love and joy in your face when you came to me. I know you are mine now, and only mine. I will hold you like the greatest treasure on earth and I will never let you go, not until death do us part.'

Llinos shivered. It was as if a shadow had fallen over her heart. She reached for him. ‘Hold me close, Dafydd,' she said softly. ‘Just hold me close.'

SHANNI COULD SEE
the difference in Dafydd as soon as he came into Madame Isabelle's house. He stood in the hall, happiness shining from him like a beacon, and all because Llinos Mainwaring had come back to him. Anger and pain warred within her. She was young, she was much prettier than Llinos Mainwaring, and she was free. She had no husband, no lover, and if Dafydd came to her he would find her a virgin.

‘Isabelle!' Dafydd took Madame in his arms and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘More lovely than ever. Do I hear wedding bells by any chance?'

‘You do indeed, Dafydd.' She spoke in a low voice. ‘And you are looking much better. You've been going around like a man ready to throw himself off a cliff. I presume your love life has taken a turn for the better?'

He tapped his nose playfully. ‘You can be so nosy, Isabelle,' he teased. ‘And you, Shanni, can put your eyes back into your head now because there's no gossip to relate.'

A moment before, Shanni had congratulated herself on being young. Now she felt her youth
was a disadvantage. She allowed Dafydd to hold her lightly in his arms and breathed in the scent of him – the freshness of the evening air, the aroma of tobacco – and her heart lurched. She would have Dafydd for her own, even if she had to wait for ever.

He released her and she smiled up at him. He was so tall, so handsome, such a brave, strong man. Dafydd was her hero, he was everything her heart desired, and she would fight Llinos Mainwaring to the death for him if she had to.

‘How is Pedr, these days? Behaving himself, is he?' Dafydd waited until the ladies were seated then took a seat himself.

Shanni made an effort to smile but she resented the implication that Pedr and she were involved with each other. ‘I suppose he's fine,' she said. ‘I haven't seen anything of him for ages.' She folded her fingers together and sat back in the shadows of the big armchair, unaware of the mutinous look on her face.

‘Your brother is well now?' Isabelle broke the silence that followed Shanni's petulant words. ‘I saw Ceri out riding the other day and he looked well. It seems he's fully recovered from his injuries.'

‘He is well enough,' Dafydd said. ‘He's still furious with me, of course. He thinks I should be on the side of law and order. Ceri pays lip service to the plight of the farmers but he is, first and foremost, a businessman.' Dafydd shook his head. ‘And as such he believes it to be in his best interest to stay away from political debate.'

‘I can't say I blame him.' Isabelle leaned
forward. ‘However, it's left to people like you and me to do something to right the wrongs of this world. If you are not too busy, shall we begin to map out our plans?'

Dafydd rubbed his chin, and his head was bent so that Shanni could not see his expression. She felt, rather than saw, that he would rather speak of his foolish, disgusting affair with Llinos Mainwaring than think of the wrong done to the farmers. ‘Well, I suppose we should think up a strategy.' He spoke almost reluctantly. ‘It must be something big, though. What if we plan for the middle of summer? That would give us plenty of time and lull the authorities into believing we have given up the fight.'

Shanni saw him glance at Madame Isabelle as if waiting for her approval. He did not even think to seek Shanni's opinion.

‘With the element of surprise working for us,' he went on, ‘we can strike hard and swift at the structure of the law.'

‘You could be right,' Madame Isabelle said quietly. ‘But the men are getting restless. I've arranged a meeting here for tonight. I thought you would want that.'

‘Oh, yes, you did right, of course.' Dafydd did not look very pleased. He had probably arranged to be with his married woman. Shanni waited, with bated breath, until Dafydd spoke again.

‘Tonight it is.' He got to his feet abruptly. ‘I'll have to alter some of my plans. I'd better go and see to things at once.'

Shanni felt a flood of triumph. Dafydd would have to make excuses to Llinos Mainwaring for
his absence. At least tonight he would be here with Shanni and not with
her
. The thought gave Shanni a feeling of pure satisfaction.

Dafydd took his leave with what Shanni could only describe as indecent haste. He was frowning, clearly expecting a scene with Llinos Mainwaring. Well, serve him right: perhaps now he would grasp what it meant to be entangled in an illicit affair.

‘Well,' Madame Isabelle looked at Shanni, ‘that was a sudden departure.'

Shanni was silent: she was imagining Dafydd's halting explanation about tonight and Llinos's reaction. She would be furious that she was being set aside for a meeting with what she would describe as a group of rabble-rousers.

‘You look rather like the cat that's caught a mouse,' Madame said. ‘What are you thinking, Shanni?'

‘I'm thinking that Dafydd is very foolish to get mixed up with a married woman.' The words were spoken before Shanni had time to examine them, and she saw Madame Isabelle frown.

‘Judge not that ye be not judged,' she said darkly. ‘It is not your place to criticize the private lives of the people who are my guests.'

Shanni knew she had made a mistake in speaking so frankly. As far as Madame Isabelle was concerned Dafydd's affair was a private matter and nothing to do with the cause. Sometimes Shanni wondered how Madame could allow herself a love life, so committed was she to setting right the wrongs of the world.

Still, for tonight at least Dafydd would be here,
and she would see him again, look into his eyes, try to make him realize she was a woman, not a little girl. She had too much pride to be a mistress, and that was all Llinos would ever amount to: the mistress of a younger man.

The pottery was running smoothly, the output of brightly decorated tea-and supperware stacked neatly on shelves ready for the final firing. Dafydd breathed in the smell of paint, watching as the artists splashed colour and light on to the surface of the plain white china. The brushwork was loose, flowing but beautiful, and he congratulated himself on securing the services of an excellent artist. Dafydd had a good team of workers and he was fortunate enough to enjoy a close working relationship with them.

Some of the men fought alongside him in his role as leader of the Rebeccarites. He smiled. How Llinos would laugh if she saw him dressed in his horsehair wig and his long petticoats. His heart missed a beat. He would have to let her know that he would be out for the best part of the evening. He was worried that she might take the opportunity to go and see her son.

He hated the thought of it, of Llinos in the same house as her husband. Joe Mainwaring was powerful, handsome in his exotic way. He had an inner strength that spoke of great self-knowledge. He was a dangerous adversary.

Dafydd left the painting shed, stepping out into the warm sunshine. He stood aside to watch the tail end of the retinue of wagons being drawn towards the gates. Ceri had stipulated that only
one horse be used per wagon as a means of economy. Dafydd had disagreed: he thought it would slow down the journey but in the end Ceri had had his way.

Ceri had risen from his sickbed with a new energy. He asserted himself more often and Dafydd, occupied as he was by other matters, allowed his brother to take charge. One of Ceri's decisions was that when winter came, the carpenters and millwrights were to work until six o'clock, even when it meant using candles. Dafydd frowned. Anyone would imagine that the Buchan family were impoverished, the way Ceri carried on. He had even objected to Pedr Morgan earning more than some of the other workers. He paid no mind to the fact that Pedr was a good potter, swift and talented into the bargain.

As Dafydd walked through the yard the unmistakable smell of tobacco drifted towards him. He walked silently around the pile of broken pottery and into the clay yard. A man was slouched against the wall. His head was turned away but a thin trail of smoke gave him away. ‘Smoking, Barratt?' Dafydd said quietly. ‘If I were you I'd put away your pipe in case my brother decides to walk around the place.' The man hesitated. ‘You don't want a fine imposed on you, do you?' Dafydd's voice had a stern edge to it. ‘You can ill afford it, not with your brood of young ones.'

Sulkily, Barratt tapped his pipe against the wall. ‘Right, sir.'

‘Now, I suggest you get back to work while you still have work to do. And if I catch you smoking
in working hours again you'll be dismissed, do you understand?'

Dafydd watched the man walk away. He knew his ill humour was all to do with the meeting Isabelle had arranged. He would much rather be with Llinos tonight. He still could not believe his luck in getting her back. He cursed under his breath. Even thinking about her, her perfect body, her wonderful eyes, the way she loved him, was enough to arouse him. ‘Damn the meeting!' he said softly.

‘So this is only a visit, Mother?' Lloyd watched as Llinos stood in the hallway pinning a hat on to her curling hair. ‘You just sail in, pick up some more things and sail out again without thought for me or Father.'

Llinos treated him to a blast from her beautiful eyes, and Lloyd felt his courage desert him. ‘Please stay. I've invited Jayne for the evening but when she leaves we can talk to each other, can't we?'

‘There's nothing you can say, Lloyd. As for Jayne, well, she's your guest and you must entertain her.' His mother spoke in a way that was unfamiliar to him. She was besotted by this man Buchan, bewitched. How else could she do this to them?