The Wild Seed (25 page)

She tried to clear her mind, she remembered crouching for what seemed like hours on the floor, half unconscious. Finally, she had made her way into the mud-soaked yard attempting to reach her neighbour’s farm and then all was blackness.

She pushed back the bedclothes and shivered in the cold. She glanced down the length of her body, she had been undressed and garbed in a decent, cotton nightgown but who had brought her here? And why had she not been taken back to the farmhouse?

She tried to get out of bed and the pain made her cry out. She hung onto the worn brass head-rail, forcing back the waves of nausea, she must get out of the room, find someone who could tell her what was happening.

She managed to inch her way to the door but every movement made her wince in agony. She turned the handle but it resisted and after a moment, she realized that she was locked in. Slowly, she edged towards the window but it was far too high for her to see out of the small panes.

She was shivering violently with cold and fatigue and, defeated, she made her way back to the bed; at least there she could be warm.

She must have dozed because, when she opened her eyes once more, the room was dark. The door was opening and a woman carrying a lamp entered. She was tall, austere and she wore a big flapping cloth around her hair. For a confused moment, Catherine wondered if she was in a convent but then she saw that this woman was dressed in poor garments, a heavy sack hung around her thick waist and her arms beneath the rolled-up sleeves were those of a working woman.

‘There’s a doctor here to see you.’ The woman said sullenly and Catherine stared past her at the man who bustled towards the bed, a black bag in his hand. He offered neither his name nor his hand but he gave her a tablet which she obediently swallowed and then examined her bruises in silence. After a while he pulled back the bedclothes and clucked in disapproval at the state of the self-made bandage on her leg.

‘Fetch me some clean water, I must bathe this ankle and bandage it properly. Find some strips of clean cloth if you please.’

‘Who are you and why am I here?’ Catherine asked, her voice thin with fear. He looked at her in surprise, as if she had risen up and bitten him.

‘I’m just a visiting doctor, girl,’ he peered into her eyes. ‘You might well have sustained some injury to the head when you fell.’ He glanced at the woman who was still hovering in the doorway. ‘Well, go on then, hurry up, I haven’t all day.’

‘All right then, Doctor, but I warn you, this girl is a terrible liar, you must not believe a word she says, she can make up stories like no-one I ever saw before.’

Catherine was bewildered, ‘I have never seen that woman before and yet she talks as if she knows me, am I going mad?’ she asked, fear gripping her.

‘You have had a fall and that led to a fever, you might even have some injury to the brain, nothing I can do about that! You are bound to be a little confused but time will heal all, so don’t worry.’

‘I am more than a little confused, Doctor. The last thing I remember was being attacked, trying to go for help and then I woke up in this house.’

‘As I said, you are confused.’ The doctor began running his hand expertly up her leg, testing for injuries.

‘You must realize, young woman, you can expect the occasional “incident” of this kind to happen, it’s the lot of common man; woman too, of course.’ He gave a glimmer of a smile.

She looked at him. ‘I’m a farmer and of course accidents happen on a farm but not the sort of beating I got, that was no accident.’

He stared at her trying to assess the truth of her words. ‘Do you not have a husband with a hasty temper?’

‘No, I haven’t,’ Catherine said shortly.

He became businesslike. ‘That’s what I was told. Well it’s none of my business, I’m just a doctor, not a priest, I’m not interested in your private life, my dear.’

She looked at him in despair. ‘Please, Doctor, I don’t know what you have been told, or what you believe of me but can’t you help me to get back to my home?’

Before he could reply the woman had returned to the room, her gimlet eyes fixed on Catherine.

‘I hope you ain’t takin’ no mind of this trollop’s hard-luck stories, Doctor,’ she said, handing him a few strips of rag.

‘This may hurt a little.’ He ignored the woman and spoke gently to Catherine; as he bound the clean strips of rag around her ankle his hands were deft.

‘I think you have been very lucky,’ he said. ‘The injury to your ankle could have been worse, you could easily have sustained a broken bone.’ He looked at the bandage in satisfaction.

‘Now let us look at these ribs, shall we?’ He lifted her gown and though she shrunk from him, she allowed him to take off the bolster and to press her ribs experimentally. ‘Hmm, should be all right in a week or two, then you’ll be ready to go … well, wherever you wish. For the moment I think it would be foolish to move you.’

Before Catherine could speak he was being ushered out of the room by the tall, austere woman whose headscarf flapped about her ears like a gaggle of agitated sea birds.

Catherine heard the lock turn and knew she was a prisoner again, though she did not understand why. Tired, she fell back against the pillows. She could not make any sense of what the doctor had said, it was almost as though he believed she belonged in the mean house where she lay. But she was too tired to think it all out just now. She closed her eyes and as the tablet the doctor had given her began to take effect, she slept.

The farm looked desolate as Bethan, in riding habit, strode about the place, her eyes taking in every detail of the obvious neglect and decay that made the farm appear long abandoned. There was no sign of any animals except for the sheep which roamed in the fields sweeping down from Honey’s Farm and a few thin hens scratching in the stunted grass at the verge of the yard.

‘I should get this place for next to nothing.’ She glanced at Tom who was stepping gingerly through the mud, careful of his highly polished shoes. ‘I told you to put on a pair of old boots but would you listen to me, would you hell!’

‘Bethan, it is not seemly for a woman to swear. What would your dear father say?’

‘Oh, Uncle Tom, you are stupid, disapproving of my manners when we both know that we are accomplices in an abduction.’

Tom looked alarmed. ‘No-one could trace what’s happened back to us, could they?’

Bethan shook her head. ‘You are such an innocent, Uncle Tom, the girl has been kept locked in a hovel against her will. If pressed, this man Jacob would talk his head off. Had any of us really meant to help her we would have taken her to the nearest hospital.’

‘I suppose you are right,’ he sighed. ‘I don’t know how we are going to get out of this mess.’

‘We’ll think about that once I have bought the farm,’ Bethan said, reassuringly. ‘Just don’t you worry about it now.’

She lifted her head, her shoulders tense. ‘I can hear the beat of hooves, perhaps this is the Irishman nosing around again.’

Tom was suddenly pale and Bethan touched his arm. ‘Keep calm, let me do the talking, no need for any of us to panic, is there?’

The rider came into view and, as the flying hooves lifted the turf and the large stallion covered the ground, Bethan drew a ragged breath, waves of pain and shock washing through her.

‘Boyo!’ She trembled as he came towards her, pulling at the animal’s reins and her heart turned over as he smiled down at her.

He slid from the saddle and stood close to her, his eyes looking down at her held an expression of concern. He was as handsome as ever, his face rosy with the coldness of the breeze, his hair ruffled over his forehead. She still loved him, there was no denying it.

‘Bethan, what are you doing here?’

She longed to reach out to him, to touch his cheek and kiss his dear mouth.

‘I had to come, I needed to know where you were, I wondered if you were living up here with
her
,’ she lied smoothly. ‘But it looks as if the place is deserted.’

‘That’s very strange, I can’t believe Catherine would neglect the farm. What about the animals?’

She realized then that the concern in her husband’s face had not been for her but for the O’Conner slut. ‘The stock have all gone,’ Bethan said tightly. ‘There is no sign of the milking cows or anything other than the sheep roaming the hills.’

‘But where can Catherine be? I’m worried about her.’ Boyo said and Bethan was suddenly coldly angry with him. Had he no sensitivity? Here he was, calmly discussing the disappearance of his paramour with his wife, as though she had no feelings at all.

‘Oh, I think I know where she’s gone,’ Bethan said quickly. ‘It appears some sort of kinsman came over from Ireland looking for her, he has probably taken her away with him. I understand he is a very handsome young man.’

‘I don’t think Catherine or Liam Cullen would abandon Honey’s Farm,’ Boyo said firmly. ‘It has been in the family for such a long time that Catherine would not leave here unless she was forced into it. Perhaps I should go over to Ireland myself, see what I can find out.’

Stung, Bethan resisted the urge to goad Boyo further. ‘That might be a very good idea.’ She forced herself to speak evenly. ‘It would certainly do no harm.’ It would also give her the chance to study the affairs of the farm and to sort out what she should do with Catherine O’Conner; the girl was becoming more of a liability with every passing day.

She became aware that Boyo was looking at her strangely. ‘You wouldn’t know anything about her disappearance, would you?’ he asked, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

‘Why should I know anything about the silly girl?’ Bethan said, her head raised in challenge.

‘I wonder what really brought you here, perhaps this place is up for sale, I wouldn’t be surprised, the state it’s in. Not interested in the farm yourself are you by any chance?’

‘Are you mad? This run-down place, I wouldn’t be so foolish. You forget, I was a businesswoman when you were still in baby clothes. No Boyo, it was to see if you were here. I have not heard from you for some time and believe it or not,
I
was worried about
you
.’

‘I see.’ Boyo looked out across the fields. ‘I’m sorry, I should have let you know I was all right.’

With a feeling of relief, Bethan saw that he had accepted her story. As his eyes swept over Honey’s Farm, Bethan felt she could read him well; he was considering putting in a bid for the place himself. Well, the bank was holding the deeds against the huge debts the O’Conner girl owed them. The weasel of a manager was in her power, a little matter of some misplaced funds at one time, over which she had not made too much of a fuss. She had reckoned, rightly, that the man’s gratitude might prove useful at some later date.

‘Come along, Uncle Tom,’ she said taking the old man’s arm, ‘I think we have stayed here too long, I see my husband is fine and does not need my concern. Let’s go home, you are looking tired.’

She paused to glance at this man, this handsome stranger who was so much out of her reach, her husband. Her face softened. ‘Perhaps you will come home with us, Boyo? My father is not at all well, I’m sure he would be happy to see you. After all, he still thinks of you as his son-in-law.’ This was far from the case but it suited Bethan to pretend otherwise.

Boyo seemed to struggle with his reply and when he spoke, his voice was guarded. ‘I don’t really think it would be a good idea, Bethan.’

‘Please. Uncle Tom and I could do with company on the way home, the nights are drawing in so early now aren’t they? Makes me quite nervous to be on the road.’

He considered her words and then nodded. ‘I’ll follow your carriage.’

When she was seated in the creaking leather seat, she saw her uncle glance at her in exasperation. ‘Why do you encourage that man?’ he asked flatly.

‘You forget, Uncle, that man, as you call him, is my husband.’

‘Your estranged husband who seems to care more about the whereabouts of his strumpet than he does about you. Don’t you see what he is up to?’

‘I don’t believe he can be up to anything, after all
, I
asked him to accompany us back to the house.’

‘Well, I think he wants to look round the place, to find out if you have the girl hidden there. He is suspicious of you, my dear. Be careful your emotions do not override your good sense.’

She regarded her uncle carefully, could he be right? Was Boyo so cunning, so devious? Well, she would watch him, she would soon learn his real reason for going with her to Ty Craig.

‘Perhaps you had better get back to your own house, you appear tired,’ she said abruptly. ‘I’ll have the carriage take you there as soon as we reach Ty Craig. In the meantime you’d better think of a way of getting that girl off your hands.’

‘Off my hands? But you said …’ Tom’s voice faltered for a moment as he looked at her in dismay. He was obviously choosing his words carefully. ‘I had hoped you would come up with a solution to the problem, my dear.’

‘Just keep her hidden for a while, leave her in that hovel until I get my hands on the farm and then you can have your men take her miles from here and dump her. By the time she makes her way back to Swansea she won’t know what has happened to her.’

‘Very well, perhaps that is the best way out of this mess. She could hardly find Jacob’s place again, not unless she knew where to look.’

He paused, ‘How long will it take you to complete the purchase of the farm do you think?’

‘I’ll buy as soon as I can possibly arrange it, I’ll let you know. It can’t be soon enough for me.’

Bethan was relieved when the carriage drew to a halt at the arched door of the house. She kissed her uncle and waved as the carriage rolled away along the drive. Taking a deep breath, she turned and smiled up at Boyo who had reined his horse alongside the doorway.

‘I’ll get a groom to see to the animal,’ she said as the butler opened the door. ‘Come along in, I’m sure you could do with something to eat and perhaps a nice strong glass of porter.’

She gestured to one of the maids to help Boyo off with his riding boots. ‘See that they are polished at once.’ Then, taking his arm, she led him through to the sitting-room where a cheerful fire burned in the large, ornate grate.