Daughters of Rebecca (41 page)

She did her best to be bright and happy as any
bride should be, but in her heart was a deep despair. Eynon did not love her, would never love her. She had just taken her marriage vows but had she made the biggest mistake of her life?

The day was full of sunshine, the birds were singing in the trees and a great sense of peace filled Rosie's heart. She walked along the familiar path at the side of the river Tawe and wondered if Watt would be home early. He would be busy at the pottery, supervising the business, running it as smoothly as if it was his own.

She sat on the grass and, greatly daring, showed her legs to the sun. Around her, bright daisies looked up as if they were smiling at her. She was happy, so happy that she felt like a rainbow dazzling the sky. She had wanted to be with Watt for so long and she could hardly believe it had really happened.

The peace was suddenly shattered by the sound of hoofs on the pathway above her. The Mainwaring carriage was heading along the path that led from the heart of Swansea. She caught sight of Lloyd Mainwaring and he was alone.

Poor young man, the town was alight with the scandal of his mother's affair. The gossip that had simmered quietly beneath the surface, spoken of in lowered voices by maid and mistress, had burst into vociferous outrage when Llinos Mainwaring had chosen to live openly with her lover.

Rosie leaned against the comforting bark of a tree, remembering the happy days when Llinos had loved her husband, had stood by him in the face of dreadful opposition from the townsfolk.
Rosie had thought the couple would never part and yet now the marriage was lying in the dust.

Times were changing; today, Mr Morton-Edwards had married a woman from the lower orders. If that were not scandal enough, Llinos Mainwaring had attended the wedding of her friend on the arm of her lover. How the gossips would talk!

Well, there was nothing she could do about it; she had enough difficulty running her own life. Watt wanted them to buy a house together, to live as they should, man and wife. It sounded idyllic but was it what she wanted? Was she wise to consider giving up her independence?

‘Rosie, wait!' It was Watt's voice and her heart lifted with joy. She turned and saw that Watt, tall and broad-shouldered, was striding towards her. He had such an expression of love that tears came to Rosie's eyes. How could she not believe him when he said he loved her?

He had remained faithful to their marriage vows even when Rosie kept turning him away every time he begged her to come back.

‘Watt!' She waved to him, her heart leaping with happiness. ‘Watt!' Her voice carried on the breeze. ‘Watt, I love you!'

He burst into a run, his features transformed with joy. ‘Rosie!' He stopped, breathless, a few feet away from her. ‘Rosie, my sweetheart, did I hear you right, did you say you loved me?'

It was she who made the first move. She took his face, his dear face, in her hands and kissed him.

‘Come on, husband,' she said softly, ‘let's go home.'

‘
DAFYDD, I'M FRIGHTENED,
please don't join the rioters in this mad scheme of theirs.' Llinos sat on the sagging chair in the window of the coaching inn and stared up at him anxiously. Her instincts told her that Dafydd would be walking into grave danger if he rode as Rebecca into Carmarthen.

‘I can't back out now, Llinos. I've let them down before and I won't do it again. The men are meeting at Nantgarredig and I gave my word I'd be there. It's about time the greedy rich realized they can't get away with squeezing the farmers any longer.'

Llinos knew she was wasting her time: she would never persuade Dafydd to give up the fight against the toll rises. This was the reason why she was here in the unfamiliar surroundings of a country coaching inn.

‘I've got a bad feeling about this whole venture.' She stared down at her hands. A strong voice inside her was telling her that she would lose Dafydd if he left now.

‘Don't worry so much, my lovely girl.' Dafydd
drew her to her feet. ‘Once this is over we'll go home, I promise.'

‘And you will make this the last time you act as Rebecca?' Llinos asked quietly. ‘Because I can't live with the fear, Dafydd. I hate the whole idea of violence. Whenever men gather in an angry mob there is bound to be trouble.'

He led her towards the bed. ‘Come on, let's make love. I can't wait to hold you in my arms, you beautiful witch!'

‘Dafydd.' Llinos stopped him, her hands against his chest. ‘There is something I must tell you.'

‘I know what you're going to say – that you love me to distraction, that the very sight of me fires the blood, that you can't wait for me to possess you,' he teased.

‘No.' She looked up at him. ‘Dafydd, this is very difficult to say.' She took a deep breath. ‘The baby might not be yours. Do you understand that?' She searched his face, trying to judge by his expression what his reaction would be. He held her at arm's length and stared at her in disbelief.

‘I'm sorry, Dafydd, but I thought you would have realized that the night I slept with Joe, well, I might have fallen pregnant then.' She sank on to the bed. ‘When I was with Joe, when he was sick and I went to care for him, and I—' She saw the happiness drain from Dafydd's face and her voice faltered.

‘So the baby might be Joe's?' There was disbelief in Dafydd's eyes and he turned away from her, his shoulders hunched. ‘I never thought . . . I
don't understand . . . How could I have been so dense?'

He strode back and forth across the room. ‘Llinos, how could you let me go on believing we were to have a child between us? You should have been honest from the start.'

‘I'm so sorry. Dafydd, don't get angry, please.'

‘How am I supposed to feel?' The words seemed dragged from his lips. He turned to look directly at her and it was as though he had never seen her before.

‘You might be the father, Dafydd, I just don't know. I only slept with Joe that one night, so the baby is probably yours.'

Dafydd's face set in hard lines. ‘Oh, thank you! Am I supposed to be grateful that you only slept with him once?'

‘Dafydd, don't take it like that.'

‘How am I supposed to take it?' She had never seen him so angry. ‘The thought of you and Joe being together was just bearable, but how can you expect me to be father to a child by another man?'

His forehead furrowed. ‘What sort of woman are you, Llinos? I don't know what to think any more. Have you ever truly loved me?'

‘Of course I have! Dafydd, I'm so sorry.' Tears welled in her eyes and she made no attempt to wipe them away. ‘I've behaved badly, I don't need anyone to tell me that.'

‘Well, your apology doesn't put anything right, not for me.' His voice was low. ‘I think I hate you, Llinos, do you know that? How can I bear the humiliation of it all? Tell me that.'

Llinos stared at him miserably. He was a proud
young man and she was causing him such grief. Or was it pride talking when he berated her, the silly male pride of possession, of needing to be in control?

He moved towards the door. ‘I'm going out. I have never hit a woman and I don't intend to start now.' He paused, his hand on the latch. ‘Do you know, Llinos? I realize now what it's like to have murder in your heart.'

Suddenly Llinos was as angry as he was. ‘Dafydd, you have murder in your heart every time you go to a meeting of the Rebeccarites!' she said. ‘You can't deny it. You need the excitement of the fight.' And he did. He was a rebel because he liked the feeling of power it gave him. He could have lived his life as a respectable businessman but that was too tame for him.

‘I'm going out.' His voice was hard. ‘Don't be here when I get back.' He left the room, and Llinos heard him clattering down the stairs. She stared through the window, trying to catch a glimpse of him. She was heartsick and confused. Should she follow him?

There was a knock on the door and Llinos felt a glimmer of hope. Had Dafydd come back? But it was Shanni Price who pushed her way into the room, and Llinos looked at her in startled surprise.

‘Shanni, what on earth are you doing here?' Llinos's voice was hard as she tried to swallow her tears.

‘I'm not going to bed with a lover, not like some people.' Shanni was white with anger, her small hands were clenched into fists.

‘Why have you travelled to Carmarthen?' Llinos retorted angrily. ‘Are you following me?'

‘I've just come to tell you to leave Dafydd alone before it's too late.' Shanni stood against the door and it was clear she intended to have her say. ‘You are putting Dafydd in danger. The men are turning against him because of you.'

‘I don't understand.' Llinos tried to gather her wits, confused by the turn of the conversation. ‘How am I putting him in danger?'

‘He has let the men down more than once just to satisfy you. It was because of you that Ceri Buchan got injured. Dafydd should have been leading the men that night, he would have kept them in check. But, no, he had to be with you.' There was a world of scorn in Shanni's voice as she stared at Llinos with cold dislike. ‘That's all I wanted to say. Keep out of Dafydd's life. Stay away from him before it's too late.'

Shanni flung open the door and Llinos heard her quick, light steps on the stairs. She closed the door, her heart beating so fast she felt breathless. She sat on the bed, her legs suddenly refusing to support her. She knew Dafydd was in danger every time he rode with the Daughters of Rebecca but she had never considered that she was making things worse for him.

She got up from the bed, and forced herself to think calmly. She must find Dafydd and convince him that the venture was too dangerous. She took her cloak out of the cupboard and swung it round her shoulders. She would go after him, stop him going into Carmarthen, even if it meant begging him on bended knee.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. What a mess she had made of her life. Here she was in a shoddy room, sharing it with a lover. She was pale, her eyes wide with fear, and her pride was in the dust – but she knew she would do anything for Dafydd if only he would say he still loved her.

She opened the door and paused, taking one last look around the room where she and Dafydd had made love, perhaps for the last time, and her heart was heavy.

‘Where on earth have you been, Shanni?' Madame Isabelle's face was white. ‘This is no time to go missing. We're strangers here, remember, and in any case, I am not comfortable sitting alone in a coaching inn. Where's your sense, Shanni?'

‘I've just been to the privy,' Shanni said, afraid to tell her the truth. The landlord's son had been eager to talk to her, and what he had to say had been most interesting. It was because of him that she knew Dafydd had been here, and that whore Llinos Mainwaring with him.

‘Thank goodness Eynon brought me back from the trip sooner than we had intended,' Isabelle said. ‘I'm only away for a few days and all hell breaks loose. It's madness! The men must be out of their minds to think of attacking the Union Workhouse.' She glanced over her shoulder. ‘I heard the landlord say that the militia have been alerted. The men will all be killed.'

Shanni stared at Isabelle, her heart thumping
with fear. She had always known that Dafydd was involved in a dangerous struggle but now the danger was a reality.

‘That long coach ride from Swansea has given me bone-ache,' Isabelle rubbed her back, ‘and I still don't know if I was wise to bring you along. I don't even know if we'll do any good by being here.'

‘We will, you'll see, and you had to bring me,' Shanni said. ‘I remember how I used to talk when I lived in the slums and your voice would give you away at once.'

‘Quite so,' Madame Isabelle said. ‘Oh dear! What my husband will make of my absence I don't know, but I have to try to stop this madness.' She rubbed her brow. ‘Look, we'll try to head the men off, warn them they might be ambushed. Cover your hair, Shanni, so that no-one can recognize you.'

Shanni leaned closer to her. ‘Do you see that boy over there? Well, I talked to him when I was outside. He was saying that five hundred men are riding on horseback into Carmarthen and many more are on foot. He thinks they're making for the workhouse.'

She sat back against the warm wood of the oak settle, feeling smug. She knew more about the riot than Madame Isabelle ever would. She knew how brave Dafydd was. He was a man she would be proud to have as a husband – she would love him all her days. But he was way above her in social position and she knew it. Even now, as a property owner, she was not cut from the same mould as Dafydd Buchan. He was a gentleman born and
bred and she was a child from the slums of Swansea.

Shanni felt downhearted. She knew in her gut that Dafydd would never be hers. ‘Curse Llinos Mainwaring!' she said, under her breath. ‘If anything happens to Dafydd, it will all be her fault.'

‘Stop muttering and pay attention,' Madame Isabelle said. ‘I think we'd better be leaving.'

Shanni pulled up her hood and tried to be calm, but it was impossible. Excitement and fear burned within her, and she knew that this was going to be the most important moment in her life.

LLINOS LEFT HER
room and picked her way carefully down the stairs of the inn. She had spent a sleepless night searching for answers. Could Dafydd forgive her enough to bring up the child even if it was Joe's? Somehow she doubted it.

She would have to find him, though, talk to him again, tell him she loved him. She must try to convince him that attacking the workhouse was a lost cause, that it might damage the efforts of the Rebeccarites, not further them.

She paused on the rickety stairs, trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings, but she found it difficult to come to any sensible conclusions about her future and the future of her child. How foolish she had been to burden Dafydd with her doubts. He was so upset he might rush headlong into the fray not caring if he lived or died. She should have waited until the time was right to tell him. But she had the dismal feeling that the time would never have been right.