Sweet Rosie (6 page)

He stripped off his waistcoat and then his shirt and Lily saw he wore no undergarments. She turned her head away, strangely touched by the thinness of his chest. She felt that all this was leading up to a suggestion of intimacy and she dreaded the thought of him pouncing on her and throwing her on the bed. He did no such thing.

‘There, Lily, see how big the shirt is, it hangs around me like the sails of a ship.’ He smiled. ‘If I went out in a strong breeze I’d fly up into the sky and you would never see me again. Would you like that, Lily?’

She was right; this was all leading up to coercing her into bed. He had enough shirts without fussing about this particular one. ‘I’ll need some pins, I’ll fetch them from my sewing box.’

He stood still while she pinned the shirt at the seams and then looked down at her handiwork. ‘Ah, that seems to be the answer, well done, Lily. Will it take you long?’ He rested his hands on her shoulders and she felt the warmth of his fingers and braced herself. He bent towards her and kissed her lightly on both cheeks. ‘There, you see, I’m not such an ogre am I?’

To her surprise, he turned away and lifted the shirt over his head. He dressed quickly and efficiently and moved to the door. ‘I’m going to have a last small drink of porter and then I’ll retire to bed. See you in the morning, Lily.’

She followed him onto the landing, even now suspecting his motives. ‘As for you,’ he said without turning, ‘leave the shirt, you look all in.’

He left her alone, taking the candle with him, and she stood in the darkness, telling herself she would never understand the ways of men. In her own bedroom, she drew the curtains and pushed more coal onto the fire before lighting the candle.

Lily stood for a moment, looking down at her hands covered in coal dust, and wondered why, when she hated the advances of men, was she disappointed that James showed no interest in her?

Later, lying in bed, she began to plan her future. She would make herself indispensable to James; he would grow so used to having her around that he would never want her to leave. It was not an ideal way to live her life but it was a great deal better than being forced to find a home and employment somewhere else.

As she began to drowse towards sleep, Lily felt a warm glow remembering that James had noticed her. Had even spoken a few kind words to her. It was little enough but it was a beginning.

Llinos looked at the sleeping figure of Eynon’s daughter. She was curled up in the big armchair like a sleeping cat, her legs tucked under her. Jayne was a pretty child, growing taller now with thin legs and a cloud of thick hair hanging loose from the ribbons.

‘She feels the lack of a mother greatly,’ Eynon said following Llinos’s gaze.

‘Well, she has more than enough love from you, Eynon, so don’t fret, you are a wonderful father.’

‘Thank you, kind lady.’ He leaned forward. ‘It’s nice to see you come over to my house for a change, I’m always having to take the carriage to your place. You’re a selfish hussy. That’s what you are.’

‘Me a hussy!’ Llinos made a face at him. ‘What’s this scandal I hear about you then, Eynon? Walking out openly with a married woman? I thought you had more sense than to make your affair public.’

Llinos lifted her glass of cordial; it was pleasant to be in the airy drawing room and a change from the hustle and bustle of Pottery House. She loved teasing Eynon and he was always aware that behind her humour lay real affection.

Eynon played up to her. ‘Ah, I’m to be scolded! Well, my excuse is that Mrs Sparks is a needy lady and her husband is not the affectionate kind.’

‘I can vouch for that!’ Llinos said dryly. ‘Indeed, I found him a pompous, ill-mannered pig!’

‘There we are then, imagine having to live with a man like that. I think I’m saving poor Alice Sparks from leading a very dreary life, don’t you?’ He smiled. ‘I always try to do some good works, you know. I am such a charitable man that it grieves me to see a feisty young woman deprived of affection.’

Llinos tried to imagine Mr Sparks having a wife with spirit and smiled. Perhaps Mrs Sparks had too much spirit and that might account for why her husband was so bad tempered.

‘Be careful though, Eynon,’ she said soberly. ‘I don’t trust that man, not one little bit. I think he would be the sort to do someone harm if he had the means.’

‘Forget the Sparks family.’ Eynon looked at her in concern. ‘How are you feeling? I know you’ve had a bad time of it lately.’

‘I’ve tried to put it all out of my mind now.’ Llinos looked down at her hands; it was an effort to speak normally about so painful a subject. ‘I know there won’t be any more children.’ She looked up. ‘I feel so guilty about that and, to make it worse, the loss of our daughter affected Joe badly.’

Eynon took her hand. ‘You have a fine son and you are a beautiful woman, what more could any man want?’ As his eyes met hers, she read the love there and the longing. She squeezed his hand.

‘You are always such a comfort to me. I know Joe had to go home, he’s worried about his mother, but I needed him with me. Instead, I’m looking to you for comfort. Am I being unfair to you?’

He shook his head. ‘Of course not!’

‘Why do you still love me, Eynon?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘Why can’t you find a woman who is single and free?’

‘I can’t love another woman when I love you so much.’ Eynon looked away; if he looked into her eyes she would read too much of his pain.

‘Oh, Eynon!’ Llinos put her arms around him. ‘You are my dearest friend in all the world, the only other man beside Joe I could possibly love.’

She felt his arms warm around her and she closed her eyes. It was so comforting to have a man hold her. If she was another sort of woman she might have given him the comfort of her body and taken comfort from his. But Llinos belonged heart and soul to her husband; she never wanted any man except Joe. The trouble was, he did not seem to want her.

‘I’d better get back home,’ she said, at last releasing herself from Eynon’s embrace. ‘My son will be missing me. Will I see you tomorrow?’

‘I expect so.’ With his arm around her shoulders he accompanied her through the hallway and onto the front step.

‘Don’t worry if you can’t manage it, Eynon,’ Llinos said quickly.

‘Of course I can manage it! I can’t wait to come over to your house and play games with that boy of yours.’ He helped her into the carriage. ‘Lloyd is so like his grandfather, sometimes I think he’s inherited his soul.’

‘Hush!’ Llinos said. ‘You sound like Joe!’

Eynon sighed. ‘Do I?’ he said wistfully. ‘I wish I was half the man your husband is.’

‘You are your own man, that’s all you need to know,’ she said.

As the carriage jerked into motion, she raised her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss. She was aware of him watching as the carriage rolled down the tree-lined drive towards the road.

She leaned back against the cold leather seat, closing her eyes. She missed Joe so badly it was like toothache. She had cried at their parting, she felt bereft as though he was gone from her for ever and it frightened her.

‘Come home, my darling,’ she whispered but she was answered only by the creaking of the carriage and the rumble of wheels on the cobbles.

The journey from Eynon’s house to her own took only little over half an hour. As the carriage turned into the yard, Llinos saw her son wave excitedly to her from the window of the house.

He leaned out over the sill, waving a letter at her. ‘Daddy’s written us a letter, Mamma,’ he said. ‘Hurry up, come and read it.’

In the drawing room, Lloyd had seated himself beside Charlotte on the large sofa, his legs, thin and gangly, hung over the edge and Llinos’s heart contracted with love for him.

Charlotte smiled a welcome. ‘Come and sit for goodness’ sake and let’s open the letter from my brother.’ She ruffled Lloyd’s hair. ‘Put both of us out of our misery.’

Llinos tore the letter open with trembling fingers. ‘It’s bad news,’ she said at last. ‘Joe’s mother has passed away.’ She looked at her son, ‘Your grandmother.’ He had never met his grandmother, he would never know the sweetness of the woman, her age-old wisdom, her beauty.

‘But Charlotte is my grandmother,’ he said, puzzled.

‘I know, darling, but you had another grandmother, her name was Mint, she lived in Daddy’s land, in America.’

‘Oh.’ Lloyd looked crestfallen for a moment and then, childlike, he shrugged away the sadness in his mother’s voice. ‘When is Daddy coming home?’

Llinos looked down at the letter. ‘He will be back with us before Christmas,’ she said. She should feel happy and yet her heart was heavy: Joe had to cross the great Atlantic sea that separated them; it was a hazardous journey at the best of times and now, with winter coming on, it would be even worse.

‘Never mind, Mamma.’ Lloyd had the same knack as his father of reading her thoughts. ‘Daddy has the Great Spirit to keep him safe.’ He slipped from the sofa and nestled his head against her knees. ‘He’ll be home before the snow comes, you’ll see.’

Over his head, Llinos met Charlotte’s eyes. ‘He’s like his father,’ Charlotte said, ‘he’s a seer. If he says Joe will come home safely, then he will.’

‘Of course he will,’ Llinos replied and yet she knew she would not rest until Joe was safely in her arms again.

Binnie Dundee looked around the table in the sun-washed dining room and marvelled at his family of sons who were growing rapidly. The boys had strong limbs and glowing faces browned with the warmth of the American sun. He was a contented man.

He congratulated himself on shaking the dust of Swansea off his feet all those years ago and settling in America with a wonderful wife. Sometimes it troubled him that he and Hortense were not legally married, that he still had a wife back home. He had never kept in touch with Maura; once he made his decision to leave her he put her out of his mind. All he could do was to pray his secret was never discovered or Dan McCabe would have him hung, drawn and quartered for tricking his daughter into a sham marriage.

The boys were whispering together, no doubt planning some mischief. Binnie watched them fondly. No wonder Dan, Jerry and Matthew were the apple of their granddad’s eye. If Dad McCabe favoured the child named
for
him it was only because Dan was the first-born and the image of him.

Binnie sighed, a contented sigh. West Troy was a fine place to live and Binnie was glad that he was not back in Swansea where the weather would be turning cold and rain beat incessantly against the window-panes.

‘A penny for them.’ His wife smiled across at him and Binnie felt a tug at his heart. He loved Hortense as much as he had done when they were first married. She would be so hurt if she knew the truth about him. He pulled himself up sharply. Why think about the past now? It was over and done with.

‘I was remembering how dull the weather was back home,’ he said. Hortense smiled and reached over to touch his hand.

‘But this is your home now, Binnie my love.’

‘I know.’ He returned her smile. ‘I know. I was just telling myself how lucky I am to be with the woman I love and to have three fine sons. I would give my life for you, my love, you know that.’

The sound of a carriage stopping outside the porch galvanized the boys into action. ‘Grandma’s here!’ Dan said. ‘See you later, Mom.’

Binnie stood in the doorway as Hortense followed her sons to where Mrs McCabe was waiting for them. He waved to his mother-in-law and she acknowledged him with a nod of her head.

When Hortense came back into the house she took Binnie’s hand. ‘Mom’s angry, seems Daddy’s off with one of the girls again.’ She looked up at her husband. ‘Thank the good Lord you are not like Daddy, spending your energy on other women.’

She was referring to Dan McCabe’s habit of visiting his own houseful of girls; nubile dark-skinned girls whom he kept in style on McCabe land. The girls remained in the house for only a few years and then Dan would pension them off, giving each one enough money to make them rich beyond their wildest dreams.

‘Even now he’s past fifty, my father still acts like an old goat.’ Hortense was disapproving and Binnie laughed out loud.

‘Come on, now, Hortense, be sensible,’ he said. ‘Dan is a vigorous man and your mammy, she doesn’t like – well, you know what I mean.’

‘I know.’ Hortense was suddenly flushed. ‘And I am a different kettle of fish to Mammy, so why don’t we take advantage of the fact that the boys are visiting with their grandmother and we have the afternoon free?’

‘I thought John and Josephine were supposed to be coming for tea.’

‘So? We have time enough, honey, come on.’ She tugged at his hand, leading him towards the bedroom.

Quickly, she stripped off her clothes and stood before him naked. Her waist had thickened a little since the birth of their last child but her breasts were full and her hips rounded and she was everything he would ever want in a woman.

It was wonderful to make love to his wife with the sun warming his back and splashing her face with light. She was a passionate responsive woman and he loved her so much that every time he made love to her was as good as the first time.

Afterwards, when they lay together in the large bed, naked as innocent babies, he reached for her hand. ‘Never stop loving me, will you, Hortense?’

‘Honey, while I’ve got breath in my body, I will love you, you can depend on that. As sure as the sun rises in the morning, I am yours until I die.’

Once showered and changed into a sparkling fresh shirt, Binnie prepared chilled cordial for the expected guests. Then he sat outside, rocking in the swing on the porch. The sun was high, the shadows of the trees deep and black. It was a good life, a better life than he had ever dared hope for.

He closed his eyes; perhaps there was time for a nap before John and Josephine arrived. They were a good couple and even though John, a Cornishman, had married one of the McCabe girls more from expediency than love, they had certainly made a go of it. John had worked hard and now, like Binnie, was a partner in the McCabe family potting business.