Daughters of Rebecca

by Iris Gower

Shanni bit her lip. Dafydd was treating her like a child again. ‘Well, I haven’t got a soft spot for him!’ she said sharply. ‘I think Pedr is a nice enough boy but rather immature,’ she added, feeling proud of her new awareness of language.

  ‘Really?’ Dafydd sounded amused. ‘I can see you’re a fine lady, very grown-up and beautiful too.’

  Was he flirting with her? Greatly daring, she leaned closer. ‘I prefer the more mature man. A man like you,’ she said, then blushed and was embarrassed by her own forwardness. She must learn to be subtle, to be more tactful.

  ‘Well, then, I’m flattered!’ There was a hint of laughter in Dafydd’s voice.

  ‘Don’t make fun of me!’ She turned and looked at him, determined to change the line of the conversation. ‘Anyway, what’s more important is when the next attack on the gates will be.’

  ‘Tonight.’ He glanced at his pocket watch, which gleamed gold in the light from the window. ‘I’d better be going if I’m to get to Efailwen in time to join in the action.’

  He rose to his feet and Shanni followed him to the door. He turned and she almost cannoned into him. He put his hands on her shoulders, and Shanni felt a thrill of sheer pleasure run through her body. ‘Tell Isabelle I’m sorry to leave without seeing her.’ He listened to the voices across the hallway. ‘It seems she’s still busy with her guest.’ He winked at Shanni, and then his lips touched hers softly, like the brush of a petal. ‘See you soon, little one.’

  Shanni watched from the window as he rode away, a magnificent figure on his silky-coated horse, man and beast touched by the rays of the dying sun.

  ‘Efailwen,’ Shanni murmured to herself. She envied the men their right to be at the scene when the gates were destroyed. The excitement of tearing down the gates, a symbol of authority, was something she longed for. She lifted her head and stared at the clock. She could follow Dafydd if she acted quickly.

  She ran up the stairs and pulled on the dark riding habit Llinos had bought her. She needed something to cover her head – a shawl would do.

  She went through the wardrobes and at last, in the maid’s room, Shanni found an old, worn shawl and a discarded bonnet. She dressed in them quickly and hurried back down the stairs.

  ‘Madame?’ Shanni called, as she knocked on the door of Madame Isabelle’s study. ‘I’m going over to see Pedr. I shan’t be long.’

  Without waiting for a reply, she hurried outside, closing the front door with a snap of finality. She was not lying, she told herself, she was going to visit Pedr, but with the sole purpose of making him take her with him to the gate at Efailwen.

  She felt as light as air as she hurried through the fields towards the roadway. She was going to have some excitement and surely Dafydd would applaud her actions. She thought of the touch of his hands on her shoulders, the lightness of his mouth against hers, and she laughed in sheer joy.

  Llinos was restless. She was not seeing Dafydd tonight and she knew only too well the reason why. Dafydd was riding with the rebels, the Beccas, they called themselves. The men were going to storm another gate, incensed by yet another rise in the tolls. It now cost a farmer twelve shillings and sixpence to travel a distance of thirteen miles. It was a disgrace, and something had to be done about it.

  Llinos felt lonely. The house seemed to close in around her. Strangely, as a child she had never felt lonely, not even when her mother died. But then she had been young and resilient, a girl with ambition and drive. What was she now?

  Even though she and Shanni were not the best of friends, Llinos wished the girl was not staying with Isabelle for the night. If nothing else, Shanni was lively company.

  The doorbell jangled, breaking the silence, and Llinos looked up, her heart thumping. Had Dafydd changed his mind? Had he come for her after all?

  But it was Joe’s voice she heard in the hall and she sank back in her chair, unwilling to face yet another scene.

  He came into the room quietly, as he always did, and he looked big and handsome, with a proud arrogance to his features. His long hair hung to his shoulders and the streak of white could be seen clearly in the light from the candelabra.

  ‘I have to talk to you.’ Joe sank into a seat, without waiting for invitation. ‘It’s about Lloyd.’

  Llinos put her hand over her heart. ‘Is he ill? What is it, Joe?’

  ‘No – at least, not in body. In spirit he is troubled by the problems facing his parents.’

  ‘How does he know?’ Llinos asked, alarmed.

  ‘You need to ask when Lloyd is my son? He’s well aware of the friction between us. He is also aware you have a lover. The boy is not stupid.’

  ‘And he is well aware that you had a mistress by whom you sired a son,’ Llinos retorted. ‘He knows only too well how many times you were absent with your whore when I was in trouble and needed you.’

  ‘Llinos, in the name of all the saints, stop saying that,’ Joe said. ‘Every time we argue you go over old ground.’

  ‘What do you expect?’ She was furious. ‘I have been humiliated for years by your faithless ways. You have only yourself to blame for losing me.’

  ‘Have I lost you, Llinos?’

  ‘I don’t know what to think any more!’ Llinos put her hand to her head. ‘I can’t trust you, Joe. Every time you go away I’m wondering if there’s another woman tucked away somewhere.’

  ‘We must forget our feelings for the moment,’ he said. ‘All this is upsetting Lloyd’s studies. He is determined now to abandon college and come home.’

  ‘I know better than you what Lloyd feels,’ Llinos said. ‘And if he had seen more of his father when he needed him things might be different.’ She paused, rubbing her brow. ‘You must tell Lloyd it’s out of the question to leave college. He must not give up his chance of a good education.’

  Joe raised his eyebrows. ‘And do you think talking will do any good? Lloyd is almost a man. You can’t order him about as if he was a child.’

  ‘To me he is a child,’ Llinos said. ‘And I tell you this, Joe, if you think you will force my hand, make me give up Dafydd, you can forget it!’ She took a deep breath, trying to be calm. ‘If you allow Lloyd to come home I will move out and live openly with Dafydd, do you understand me?’

  ‘Certainly, and so do half the people of Pottery Row!’ He smiled grimly. ‘They are all quite acquainted with your affair.’

  ‘Oh, get out!’ Llinos turned away from Joe’s bitterness. ‘I will go to see Dafydd tonight. I will stop him visiting me here. I will just stay with him more frequently.’

  Joe left the room on silent feet. He moved like the breeze, and in that moment her heart ached. Llinos put her hands over her face. ‘I loved you so much, Joe,’ she said softly.

  Shanni stared up at Pedr, her heart singing in triumph. She had argued fiercely about her right to ride with him and, at last, he had agreed. She reminded him of the pistols she had managed to get, and how she had sneakily returned them to their rightful place.

  ‘You are a stubborn, obstinate girl!’ he said, swinging her up on his horse. Shanni wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his broad back, enjoying her power over him. He was falling in love with her, and she knew it.

  The chill night air lifted her hair away from her face.

  ‘You’re a lovely boy, Pedr,’ she said. She could charm him, that much was obvious, but things would be better still if she could charm an experienced man like Dafydd.

  The sound of the horse’s hoofs on the rough road sounded like a heartbeat, and Shanni felt excitement flow through her. She was in charge of her own life, she would run it as she saw fit, and not bow to anyone’s wishes – certainly not those of Mrs Llinos Mainwaring.

  Pedr slowed their mount as the lights from the toll-house came into view. Shanni, peering around his shoulder, saw the shadowy figures of the Rebeccarites massing for the attack.

  The man who called himself Becca was at the front of the crowd. He was wearing a horsehair wig and skirts billowe
d around his long legs. She knew it was Dafydd, of course, everyone in the movement knew who the leader was, but no-one would ever talk of it, not even under pain of death.

  Shanni slipped from the horse and watched as Pedr tied the reins loosely around an overhanging branch of the sheltering trees. He caught her arm, his finger to his lips warning her to be silent.

  The men were shouting abuse at the keeper in the toll-house, and the sound echoed into the clouds above her head. Shanni pulled away from Pedr in alarm. She put her hands over her face, the noise reminding her again of the way her mother had been dragged from the house by the Ceffyl Pren.

  The gate was in pieces, and a shadowy figure held a torch to the dry timber. It blazed into life, sending a shower of sparks into the night sky. The men cheered the noise, animal-like in the silence of the night.

  Shanni saw again her mother’s stricken face. She heard screaming from inside the toll-house and she almost turned to run. A woman rushed out from the building holding a lantern above her head. In the wash of candlelight she appeared ghoulish, her eyes deep caverns like those of a skull, her mouth an open tomb as she screamed at the rioters. She drew nearer the men, brandishing a broom. ‘Why are you doing this to me, you snivelling cowards?’ she shouted. ‘Why pick on a defenceless woman? Tell me that.’ The men fell back uneasily.

  ‘My Twm is a coachman and he’s away, as well you know. Are you men or mice that you attack a woman alone?’

  The leader stepped forward, the toes of his boots incongruous beneath the calico petticoats he was wearing. ‘We are not against you, woman.’ His voice was scarcely recognizable: it was gruff and sounded ill-bred, as though he was a peasant, not a landowner. Shanni was shocked. Perhaps the leader tonight was not Dafydd after all.

  She felt angry and disappointed, wished she had stayed at home. Perhaps even now Dafydd was with Llinos Mainwaring. The thought made her bite her lip in despair.

  The woman had the attention of the crowd. ‘You men disgust me! You come dressed as women to terrify and destroy the living of a family who is as dirt poor as you.’ She moved closer to the blaze.

  ‘Do you want to burn me and my few possessions too?’ She could be seen more clearly now, and in the light she looked young and pretty with flowing dark hair hanging loose to her waist.

  One of the men leaped across the burning timber and felled the woman with one blow. He knelt over her and lifted her nightgown.

  ‘How about a little kiss and cuddle, then, girl?’ He slipped his hand along her thigh, and the woman screamed like a wounded animal. She struck out at him, trying to pull away. He knelt over her, fumbling with his buttons. His intention was obvious to everyone watching yet no-one moved.

  Shanni thought again of the humiliation her mother had suffered, naked and shamed, tied to a post, while the people who should have been her friends reviled her.

  As the man pressed forward the woman screamed in terror. Shanni could not stand it. She rushed forward throwing herself against the man catching him off balance. ‘Leave her alone, you mochyn frwnt!’ she shouted. ‘You are nothing but a dirty pig!’

  The man leaped to his feet and faced Shanni, anger suffusing his face. The woman from the toll-house scrambled to her feet and rushed back inside the house, crying with fear and shame. Shanni heard the door slam and the bars fall into place.

  ‘Don’t you call me a dirty pig!’ She was caught and held, her arms twisted cruelly behind her. ‘You’ve stopped me havin’ a bit o’ fun this night, my girl, so you’ll have to do instead.’

  He threw her to the ground but before he could do anything else, Pedr was standing over her. ‘Get off, man. This has gone far enough,’ he said easily. ‘This girl is with me and we’re going to be wed, so I’ll thank you to let me be the one to take her maidenhead!’ He laughed, pulling Shanni close to him.

  There was silence for a moment. Then Becca stepped forward, towering head and shoulders above the rest. He shook Pedr’s hand then kissed Shanni, the horsehair wig rough against her face.

  ‘Congratulations, young Shanni,’ he said. Gone was the rough accent: the voice was cultured and she knew that the man under the wig was Dafydd after all. Now he thought she was betrothed to Pedr, which was the last thing she wanted.

  She did understand the pressure of his hand on her arm, though, and nodded almost imperceptibly before putting her arms around Pedr’s waist.

  ‘Shall we let young Pedr take his bride off into the trees to do a bit of courtin’, then, boys?’ His voice was harsh again. Shanni looked anxiously at Pedr, then at the group of men staring at her.

  One threw back his head and laughed, and soon everyone was joining in, making crude jokes.

  Becca held up his hand. ‘I say Pedr should give her a lesson this night.’ He rested his hand on Pedr’s shoulder. ‘See, Pedr boy, don’t let the maid keep you at a distance now. Get her bundling and plant your seed, lest some other man get there first.’

  The men laughed loudly, the tension released. The timber from the gate crackled into embers, and now the men would be ready to disperse. But she was wrong and before Shanni knew what was happening she was being lifted shoulder high. Her heart was pounding and she felt as though she would choke. What was going to happen to her?

  She struggled to look round and saw that Pedr was being carried along with her. The men took them through the wood to a clearing and she was put down on her feet again. In front of her was a shack. She watched with dread as one of the men pushed open the door and gestured for her to go inside.

  Shanni looked around for Dafydd but he had gone. Pedr was at her side then, pushing her into the hut. He closed the door and the darkness was intense, with just one window revealing a pale streak of moonlight. ‘Better lie down in case anyone looks in,’ Pedr whispered.

  ‘I’m not going to lie down anywhere with you, Pedr Morgan!’ Shanni said fiercely.

  ‘Then take your chances with them out there, girl.’ He caught her hand and drew her on to a makeshift bed. ‘Now, look, this is just pretend, right? I mean you no harm, you know that. Once the men have gone we’ll be away from here.’ He pressed his mouth against hers effectively stopping her protest.

  Shanni knew he was talking sense. She could hear the men singing a lewd song about a couple in love, and shuddered. Pedr put his arms around her and she felt the bristle of his unshaven face against her own. She was tense, her heart thumping. This was not what she wanted. She put her hands against Pedr’s chest and attempted to push him away.

  ‘Get astride the girl, lad!’ A raucous laugh close to the window made Shanni realize that they were being watched. ‘Get on with it! If taking a young girl’s maidenhead is too much for you, step aside and let a man show you how.’

  ‘I’d rather do this in private, if you don’t mind,’ Pedr said harshly. ‘I don’t want to hurt my sweetheart and put her off for life, do I?’

  Shanni felt for his face in the dark. It was hot beneath her fingers. She became aware that Pedr was trembling. She smiled suddenly. ‘You’ve done this sort of courting before, haven’t you?’ she whispered. She felt like giggling. She was in no danger from Pedr so she might as well enter into the spirit of the charade.

  ‘Darling Pedr,’ she gasped out loud, ‘you are so wonderful, such a strong man.’ It was strange how easily the Welsh tongue came back to her. She put her arms around Pedr and held him close, planting loud kisses on his face. Suddenly she thought the whole thing hilarious. ‘Oh, my love, can’t we marry straight away? I can’t live another day without you.’

  ‘That’s it.’ Pedr had caught her mood and clasped her to him gasping with laughter. ‘If they really knew what we were up to, they’d all pee their trews!’ he whispered. He rested his hot face against hers and turned to speak to her. Their lips touched and, in a moment, laughter fled. Shanni was aware of him as a man, aware of his thighs pressing against hers. He kissed her again and she felt him harden against her.

  ‘Pedr,’ she said breathlessly, ‘don’t get
carried away now, boy bach.’

  ‘That’s the trouble, though, girl. I’m not a little boy, I’m a man, and I want to make love to you with every bit of me.’

  ‘Well, you can’t!’ Shanni said. ‘Now, get off me. The men have all gone from the sound of it.’

  Pedr released her and peered warily through the window. ‘There’s no sign of anyone. I expect they’ve gone home to pester their wives after all this excitement.’

  As Shanni moved towards the door Pedr caught her and held her close. ‘I’m going to have some reward for my trouble,’ he said. He pressed his mouth to hers in a passionate kiss.

  Shanni felt a mixture of emotions run through her. She wanted to push him away, but something stopped her. Then, abruptly, she was released.

  ‘Now then, Shanni, that will teach you to come to a burning with me,’ Pedr said. ‘From now on you’ll stay safe at home, won’t you?’

  She knew Pedr was right. Had he been less of a gentleman he would have taken advantage of her. She touched his cheek. ‘Thank you, Pedr,’ she said softly.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘Just for being you. Come on, let’s go home.’ She held his hand as they walked out of the shed into the light of the moon.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  LLINOS SAT OPPOSITE Shanni and stared angrily at her across the drawing room. Shanni’s head was bent but Llinos could see that her face was flushed and her red hair hung in rough tendrils around her shoulders. ‘What on earth were you doing riding out at night with a crowd of rebels?’ Llinos remonstrated. ‘Are you foolish or downright wicked?’

  ‘I didn’t do anything wrong,’ Shanni said defensively. She looked up at last. ‘I promise you I did nothing wrong. It was just . . .’ She shrugged. ‘I wanted to go with the men, to see what happened when a gate was being burned down.’

  ‘Wanted to see Dafydd Buchan is more like the truth, isn’t it, Shanni? Answer me.’

  Shanni’s eyes gleamed. ‘I have as much right to be in Dafydd’s company as you do!’ she said.

  ‘So you end up in a hut with Pedr Morgan. Is that proper behaviour for a lady, do you think?’