Daughters of Rebecca (42 page)

As she neared the public rooms she heard the sound of a familiar voice and realized that Shanni was still at the inn, but who was with her? Llinos
peered round the door and saw Shanni seated with Madame Isabelle at one of the beer-stained tables.

As Llinos watched, Isabelle stood up and Shanni tugged at her hood in an effort to cover her bright hair. They were going to leave, and Llinos knew at once where they were going. She followed them outside into the brightness of the day. The sun was hot, though a cooling breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. Overhead, light clouds raced across the sky with the promise of rain to come.

Ahead of her, Isabelle paused to loosen her cloak and Llinos took her courage in both hands. ‘Isabelle, wait,' she called. ‘I'm coming with you.'

She caught up with Isabelle and clung to her arm. ‘Please, I have to come with you.'

Coolly Isabelle disengaged herself. ‘Dafydd's mind hasn't been on the cause since he began his affair with you.' She spoke icily. ‘Had he been his usual sharp self he would know his plan had been discovered.'

‘Discovered? What do you mean?' Llinos felt as though a heavy weight was pressing on her chest.

‘I mean that the dragoons will be riding into town with sabres at the ready.' Isabelle's tone sharpened. ‘You've done enough harm, and I don't think this is the place for you, Mrs Mainwaring. Why don't you go home?'

‘I can't go home,' Llinos said. ‘I feel in my heart that Dafydd will need me before the day is over, and your words have only added to my fears.'

‘I haven't time to argue with you, so come if
you must,' Isabelle said. ‘But on your own head be it.'

Shanni's mouth was tightly closed. She stared mutinously at Llinos, hostility in every line of her slender body. Llinos tried to talk to her. ‘Shanni, we must work together to save Dafydd, don't you understand that?' Shanni turned away without replying. Damn her! Llinos was worried enough without Shanni venting her spleen on her.

The walk to town was a short one and soon Isabelle led the way through Water Street gate. Faintly at first on the summer air came the sound of drums and Llinos's heart missed a beat: Isabelle was right, the soldiers were on the march against the rebels.

Llinos pushed her way through the crowd, trying to keep up with Isabelle. The roadways thronged with people; the procession of rioters was already under way. She glanced up at the sun: it was overhead – it must be almost noon.

‘Well,' Isabelle paused to speak to Llinos, ‘there are lots of people about but no sign of violence. Hopefully the attack has been called off. Why don't you go back to the inn, Mrs Mainwaring? Wait there. You are in no condition to be walking about town.' Isabelle's voice was more kindly and Llinos bit her lip.

‘I just have to be with him, whatever the outcome.' Llinos took a deep breath. She wanted to believe that everything was going to be all right yet in her heart she knew that the day boded nothing but ill. ‘I can't wait on the sidelines, not knowing what's happening.'

Suddenly, the throng of spectators began to
run. ‘Come on!' Shanni cried. ‘We mustn't get left behind.'

Llinos followed Shanni and Isabelle through Red Street to where the grim walls of the Union Workhouse stood out from the rest of the buildings. Her heart sank: some of the rioters were already hammering on the wooden doors with pickaxes and stout oak branches.

Llinos looked frantically around for Dafydd. He would be dressed in the clothes of Rebecca, wearing a horsehair wig of ringlets. His face, like that of most of the rioters, would be blackened with coal dust. Her heart was pounding and she lost sight of Isabelle, but Shanni's red hair was visible just ahead.

There was a sudden crash as the gates gave way, then the throng were in the workhouse yard screaming, waving cudgels and pushing aside anyone who stood in their way.

The matron came bustling out of the door, her face red. ‘Stop this, you men!' she called, but she was pushed up against a wall and Llinos could hear her protests as her keys were snatched from her.

‘Please, you men, leave the little ones be,' the matron begged, as the children screamed in fear.

‘We are here to set them free,' one man shouted, above the crowd. ‘Let the children go, boys.'

‘They have no homes to go to!' the matron protested, but she was forced away from the doors and Llinos lost sight of her.

‘That's Pedr's voice I can hear.' Isabelle was suddenly close to Llinos, straining to see above
the heads of the crowd. ‘That means Dafydd is not far away. This is a dreadful day for all of us, Mrs Mainwaring, and you have to take some of the blame for it.'

Before Llinos could reply a voice rang out above the crowd. ‘Stop this!' She saw a man climbing on to a bench, his hands held aloft. Her heart missed a beat as she recognized the tall figure and stern face of her husband.

‘Joe!' His name escaped her lips like a sigh.

‘Listen to me, men!' he shouted. ‘Your cause might be just, but if you turn these children loose they will starve to death in the streets. Can't you understand that?'

‘Get out of the way or you'll be killed!' One of the rioters raised a stick, but Joe stood his ground. Llinos gasped in fear. Joe had come all this way and she knew that even now he wanted to protect her.

‘What good would it do to kill me?' Joe shouted. ‘I am here to help you. The dragoons are in town! Run while you can!'

Some of the men were hesitating, mumbling among themselves, but a strange silence fell as Joe spoke again.

‘I am speaking the truth. The military have been warned of the riot, they will be here any minute now. I beg you to go home before any blood is shed.'

One of the protestors cheered him. Several men on horseback turned to leave the workhouse yard. Llinos leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. She was in no condition to be rushing about, pushing her way through the crowds.

‘Don't listen to him, men! Fight on, I say!' Dafydd's voice cut through Llinos like a knife and she looked up, startled. Why did he want to continue with the battle? Could he not see that all was lost?

‘We can't give up! We've got a long way to go yet!' Dafydd climbed up on the bench to stand beside Joe. Llinos stared at them, the two men in her life, facing each other in open enmity. Dafydd was still dressed in the clothes of Rebecca. Now he tore aside the wig and bonnet and rubbed away the soot on his face. ‘Clear off, man,' he said to Joe. ‘You don't belong here, you're not one of us.'

‘Oh, my God!' Llinos tried to push her way through the crowd towards her husband. She must reach him before Dafydd tried to kill him. Suddenly she heard a blood-curdling scream and stopped abruptly. She glanced round fearfully to see the men of the Light Dragoons bearing down on her, cutting a way through the throng with raised swords. One man had his hand raised to save himself and his arm was severed. He fell to the ground, writhing in agony.

Llinos found a pathway through the crowd, desperation lending her strength, but both Joe and Dafydd had disappeared from sight. As Llinos drew nearer to the workhouse door she saw Isabelle standing there, rooted to the spot, her eyes wide with fear.

‘Isabelle! Look out!' Llinos screamed. One of the rebels was standing over her, a thick stick in his hand, his face a mask of hatred. He brought the stick down on Isabelle's head, and blood began to run down her cheek.

‘Murderer! You killed my brother!' The man was hysterical. ‘You shot Thomas Carpenter dead and got away with it. Well, now is the time for me to avenge him.'

He raised the stick and hit Isabelle again and again, battering her to the ground. Her still body lay spreadeagled against the workhouse wall.

‘Oh, Isabelle!' Llinos tried to reach her but she was thrust aside as the crowd surged forward, trying to escape the dragoons.

‘No!' Llinos cried, but there was nothing she could do as Isabelle was trampled beneath the pounding hoofs of the horses. She turned away, feeling sick.

Abruptly, Shanni was beside Llinos, tugging at her arm. ‘Come on, we've got to get away.'

‘No, leave me alone,' Llinos said. ‘You run if you must.'

‘I've no time to argue but, believe me, Dafydd wants you to be taken to a place of safety. Pedr's got some horses. He'll take us away and then come back for Dafydd.'

‘No, I can't leave, not until I know what's happened to Joe.' Llinos was cold with fear. ‘I can't go, I just can't!'

Pedr reached down and lifted Shanni on to the saddle in front of him. ‘Isabelle's dead,' he shouted, ‘and the dragoons are killing everyone in sight. Get out of here, Mrs Mainwaring, while you can.'

‘No, I can't.' Llinos stood there, shaking her head, and Pedr did not wait any longer. He urged his terrified horse on through the crowd and
rode at high speed around the grim walls of the workhouse.

Someone pushed Llinos forward and she fell on to her knees. She began to sob. She would never find Joe and they would both die here in the workhouse yard with a mob of rioters. He might even now be lying injured, even dead, somewhere. ‘Oh, dear God, spare him!' she whispered.

She tried to rise but there were people all around her, rebels and dragoons fighting to the death. ‘Llinos, my little love.' She was dragged to her feet and turned to look into Dafydd's face. A sense of deep disappointment filled her, and she knew in that moment she loved Joe in a way she would never love Dafydd.

‘You must get away,' Dafydd said. ‘Come on, I'll lead you out of here. Just cling on to me.'

‘Dafydd, thank God you're all right.' She stared at him. ‘Get out of those ridiculous clothes.' He looked ludicrous in women's petticoats. ‘And for pity's sake, Dafydd, think of yourself. Run before the dragoons take you.'

He ripped off the petticoats, throwing them into the crowd. ‘I'll be all right. Go, Llinos, you have to get away from all this before you're hurt. This is no place for a woman with child. Go quickly, while you can!'

Over Dafydd's shoulder Llinos saw a dragoon riding towards her, his sabre held aloft. She was going to die here for a pointless cause, here in the workhouse yard, slaughtered like some dumb beast. Llinos pressed her hands to her stomach and felt the flutter of new life. A life that would be over before it began.

Dafydd shielded her with his own body and Llinos screamed as the sabre cut into his arm. ‘Dafydd, no!' She looked up. The dragoon was lifting his arm to strike again. ‘Don't you know this man is Dafydd Buchan, owner of the pottery? He's here to stop the riot, you fool!' She screamed the lie, and it stopped the dragoon in his tracks.

Dafydd staggered to his feet, clutching his wound, as the dragoon stared down at him doubtfully. ‘Don't look like a pottery owner to me.'

‘I assure you I am Dafydd Buchan. I own the Llanelli pottery,' Dafydd said. ‘Now, get out of here before I report you to a higher authority.'

The dragoon seemed uncertain what course to take, but after a moment he turned his horse away and headed for the heart of the fray.

Dafydd sagged against Llinos and she struggled to hold him. How would she get herself and Dafydd through the crowd? He swayed against her and Llinos began to despair. ‘You must help me, Dafydd, I can't do it alone,' she said. And then, miraculously, Joe was there. He came as silently as always, like a shadow against the sun, and took control.

‘Come on, Buchan,' he said firmly. ‘Follow me through the back gate. Young Pedr Morgan is waiting there for you.'

He turned to Llinos and lifted her in his arms. Wearily, thankfully, she rested her head on his shoulder. He carried her around the workhouse to the streets beyond. Pedr was waiting with two horses and his face lit up when he saw Dafydd.

‘Mr Buchan, man, I thought they'd got you.'
He helped Dafydd on to the back of one of the horses. ‘I'll take you to my mam's,' he said. ‘She'll know how to patch you up.'

‘Go with your God, Buchan,' Joe said, ‘and leave my wife alone in future. You owe me that much.'

Llinos clung to Joe, her face turned away from Dafydd. ‘Goodbye, Llinos, my love.' Dafydd's voice was hoarse. ‘I'll never forget you.'

Pedr whipped the horses into action and Llinos heard the hoofs clattering along the hard, sun-baked earth.

‘I've got the carriage waiting,' Joe said softly. ‘Come on, my firebird, no tears, not now.' Joe lifted her into the seat and climbed in beside her. He touched her face tenderly. ‘Forget Buchan. You and I must think of ourselves and of our future. We are meant to be together, you know that, Llinos.'

Llinos looked at him, her husband, so wise, so forgiving. She put her head against his shoulder. ‘I know.' She hesitated. ‘But I'm with child, Joe. What if it's his?'

‘Then we will bring up the baby as our own, and I will be proud to call him my son.'

Llinos began to cry. Her whole body was racked with the pain of losing Dafydd but she knew, deep down inside her, that he never would have been as generous as Joe. Dafydd was not a big enough man to bring up a child that was not his.

‘I do love you, Joe,' she said softly. She understood now how Joe had loved her even while he lay with another woman. It was a madness that
had possessed him just as a madness for Dafydd had possessed her.

One day, perhaps, they could both forget the wrongs they had done each other. One day, if the Great Spirit willed it, they would be happy again.

THE END

Iris Gower was born in Swansea, where she still lives. The mother of four grown-up children, she has written over twenty bestselling novels. She received an Honorary Fellowship from the University of Wales Swansea in 1999 and has been awarded an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Cardiff.