Daughters of Rebecca

by Iris Gower

He was amazed by the turn in the conversation, but relieved that Isabelle had let the uncomfortable matter of his feelings drop. ‘That’s a wonderful idea. When shall we go?’

  ‘At once,’ Isabelle said. ‘You have plenty of staff. They can rustle up a meal for us with little notice, can’t they?’

  ‘I’m sure they can. I’ll ring for the maid now.’ He was happy again, sure he was doing the right thing with his life. He needed stability, needed a wife on his arm before he was too old. He needed a woman’s company, someone to take to elegant balls at the Assembly Rooms, a woman to respect. He looked at Isabelle: she was all of those things, and with that he must be content.

  ‘I’ve been invited to a wedding.’ Llinos lay beside Dafydd in the large bed, naked except for the sheet thrown over her. It was unbearably hot. Even the breeze drifting in through the wide open windows gave little relief.

  ‘If you mean Isabelle’s wedding to Morton-Edwards, then so have I.’ Dafydd was languid, his arm lying across her abdomen, his eyes closed against the glare of the sun. ‘I think it must be a mistake, though. Isabelle and I are not seeing eye to eye at the moment, are we?’

  Llinos did not want to dwell on the problems of social engagements. She was sated, luxuriating in the euphoria of the moment. Still, there were decisions that must be made.

  ‘I don’t know how I am going to get through it,’ she said softly. ‘My son will be there and so will Joe. Perhaps I should plead sickness and not go at all.’

  Dafydd rose up on his elbow and stared down at her. ‘We can’t go on like this.’ His voice was thick with emotion. ‘We can’t go hiding around corners as if we are criminals. We will go to the wedding together, as a couple.’

  ‘Is that wise, Dafydd?’ Llinos asked slowly. ‘I don’t want to embarrass my friends or my son.’

  ‘Well, you have to make up your mind, Llinos. You must choose between me and your family.’

  ‘But, Dafydd,’ Llinos said softly, ‘how would you face people if you admit openly that we are lovers? The respectable houses wouldn’t accept me, and you would be ostracized as well.’

  ‘Of course I wouldn’t! Even the great kings of England had mistresses. You would soon be accepted by my friends and certainly by my family.’

  Mistress. The word hung heavily in her heart. ‘Very well,’ Llinos said. ‘Ask your brother to invite us to tea one day. Let us see how he deals with the situation.’

  ‘My brother?’

  ‘Yes, your brother, Ceri.’

  ‘He is very straitlaced and so is his wife.’

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ Llinos smiled ruefully. ‘This house is in a sort of no man’s land where we can be private without people gossiping about us. But once we are seen together in public everything will change.’

  ‘No, it won’t. I love you, Llinos, I would make you my wife tomorrow, if only you were free.’ He paused. ‘Why don’t you divorce him? He can hardly protest, can he?’

  ‘Oh, Dafydd!’ Llinos put her hands on his cheeks. ‘Divorce is so scandalous that the news of it would reach out beyond Swansea and the business might suffer.’

  ‘I don’t care, Llinos. All I want is you. I would give everything up for you. We could go away, leave Wales – leave Britain, come to that. We could live on the Continent, where people are more tolerant in matters of love.’

  ‘Your brother needs you here, Dafydd. You have obligations and you can’t just walk away from them.’

  ‘I know you’re right, my love.’ He held her close. ‘But I’m so afraid of losing you. Say you’ll always love me and that you’ll never leave me.’

  ‘Hold my hand,’ she said softly. Dafydd took her hand. ‘I will be with you until death us do part.’

  His eyes were alight. ‘And I’ll make the same vow. Till death us do part.’

  Llinos entered the tea-rooms of the Grand Hotel and stared around her, looking for Eynon’s familiar figure. He waved and Llinos hurried across the room towards him. ‘Eynon, how lovely to see you again.’ She hugged her old friend, and Eynon kissed both her cheeks.

  ‘Sit down, Llinos, I’ve ordered tea.’ He held the chair for her to be seated.

  ‘You’re looking well, Eynon, and Jayne is more beautiful than ever. You look so cool in this hot weather, Jayne, how do you do it?’

  ‘We’ve been busy choosing material for my gown,’ Jayne said. ‘I’ve no time to feel the heat. I’ve decided on a gorgeous pale blue satin. I know it will suit me, and it will be just right for a summer wedding. I’m so excited I can’t wait for the big day to come.’

  Llinos sat back in her chair as the waiter served the tea. A plate with tiny sandwiches was placed on the table along with a stand of mouthwatering cakes. ‘And Isabelle? What is she wearing?’

  ‘Oh, something in ivory, I think.’ Jayne was scarcely interested in the bride.

  ‘You will all look splendid. Congratulations, Eynon, and I hope you will be very happy.’

  He kissed her cheek again, his lips lingering near her ear. ‘Why don’t I feel happy?’ He held her away from him, and his eyes were dark with sadness.

  ‘You are doing the right thing, Eynon, my dear friend,’ Llinos said. ‘I couldn’t bear to think of you alone at your fireside when old age comes along.’

  Jayne selected a cake. ‘What colour wrap shall I wear, Aunt Llinos? Do you think a deeper shade of blue would be in good taste?’

  Llinos glanced at Eynon, who was smiling. ‘Go on, Aunt Llinos, tell the girl what you truly think.’

  ‘I think any colour would suit you, Jayne. Your skin is clear and beautiful, and your hair is shining in the sunlight. We’ll be finding you a suitor before too long, I dare say.’

  Jayne beamed: she had always been susceptible to compliments. ‘I am going to have such an exciting year,’ she said. ‘There’s dear Daddy’s wedding, and then I’m going to London for the season.’ She had a dreamy look in her eyes. ‘I should meet some fine young gentlemen there, don’t you think?’

  ‘Of course. You are a very eligible young lady. Your father is a wealthy man and your grandmother had friends at court, I believe?’

  It was Eynon who replied. ‘Elizabeth had friends everywhere.’ His tone was dry, and Llinos smiled, remembering that Jayne’s maternal grandmother had been wont to offer her favours readily to any man of position who propositioned her.

  ‘It helps to have friends in high places, Jayne,’ Llinos said softly, ‘and I’m sure you will be pursued by gentlemen vying for the honour of your hand in marriage.’

  ‘I do hope so!’ Jayne’s eyes lit with anticipation. She turned to look round and Llinos followed her gaze, her heart contracting with pain. Her son was crossing the room; he was studiously ignoring his mother.

  Lloyd stopped at the table and smiled at Jayne. ‘I thought I’d track you down here. A fine friend you are, sneaking off when I was looking at new boots.’

  ‘Don’t grumble, Lloyd,’ Jayne said. ‘You know you are my dear friend but I can’t bear looking at men’s clothes. They’re so dull.’ She caught his hand and pulled him closer, kissing his cheek. ‘Why don’t you do the London season with me? It would be such fun to be together. Come, sit down, for goodness’ sake, you’re making me dizzy.’

  ‘Thank you, I am honoured.’ Lloyd took a seat beside her. ‘But, you see, it might be that my destiny leads me beyond our shores. Who knows?’

  Llinos gave him a sharp look. What had her son meant? ‘You are not going all fey like your father, are you, Lloyd?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean, Mother.’ He spoke smoothly but was still avoiding her eyes. ‘I was just making a general remark about the future. None of us is able to see far into it, and who knows what fate has in store for us?’

  Lloyd’s talk made her uneasy. It had been Joe’s insistence on destiny that had ruined their marriage. His excuse for bedding Sho Ka had been that he must fulfil his so-called destiny. The thought still hurt her.

  ‘If I can get a word in edgeways,’ Eynon sai
d, ‘we have set the date for the tenth of June. I hope that is convenient for you and Joe, of course.’ He looked at her meaningfully.

  ‘I will make it convenient,’ Llinos said. ‘I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world, Eynon.’

  ‘Lloyd has agreed to be my best man,’ Eynon said. He winked at Lloyd. ‘And no flirting with the bridesmaids, mind.’

  Llinos swallowed hard, remembering her conversation earlier with Dafydd. He would hate it if she was seated with Joe at the wedding breakfast. He had been right: to be free they would have to go away, begin a new life, make new friends. It would be wonderful to be accepted as a couple, committed to each other for life. Once, she had believed her future was with Joe. Now she knew that life was never that simple.

  ‘I enjoyed having tea with you, Llinos, but we really must be getting home.’ Eynon rose from his chair. ‘Isabelle is coming to supper.’ He grimaced. ‘She and Jayne will be talking gowns and veils and such things all night, and I’ll be half asleep by the time they’ve finished.’

  ‘You are forgetting that Isabelle is bringing Shanni.’ Jayne’s tone was edged with spite. ‘That girl will have no taste at all, coming from her background.’

  ‘Don’t be such an arrant snob.’ Lloyd pulled Jayne’s hair playfully.

  ‘Do you mind that Shanni’s a bridesmaid?’ Eynon asked. ‘I’ve heard that you two don’t get on these days.’

  ‘Why should I mind?’ Llinos said. ‘I have no quarrel with Shanni. I did my best to educate her, to make a lady of her. I fulfilled my duty to her mother’s memory and now it seems that Shanni is more than capable of taking care of herself.’

  ‘Everyone knows how kind you’ve been to the girl,’ Eynon said quickly, sensing she was hurt, ‘and you’ve made a fine job of fitting her for a better life.’

  Llinos looked down at her hands, at the gleaming gold band that now seemed to imprison her. She wished that Eynon had not decided to marry just at this time. It was a complication she could do without.

  She kissed him goodbye and watched as he and Jayne left the room. Lloyd was still sitting beside her, his brow furrowed. ‘Have you quarrelled with Shanni, then?’

  ‘The row was not of my making.’ Llinos spoke in a low voice. ‘She was impertinent and ungrateful. I suppose I do feel a little hurt that she hasn’t tried to make things up. A brief note would have done.’

  ‘You know what’s wrong with the girl, don’t you?’ Lloyd said. ‘She’s in love, or thinks she’s in love, with Dafydd Buchan.’

  Llinos felt her colour rise. ‘She’ll fall in love many times before she settles down to marriage,’ she said sharply. ‘Thanks to me, she’s now an eligible young lady.’

  She became aware of a shadow falling over her, looked up and saw Joe standing beside her.

  ‘But, Llinos,’ he said, ‘there is more to being a lady than meets the eye, isn’t there?’

  Llinos felt a surge of anger. ‘I should ask Sho Ka if I were you.’

  ‘Unfortunately I can’t do that,’ Joe said. ‘Sho Ka is dead. Have you forgotten that?’

  ‘I have forgotten nothing, Joe.’ She picked up her bag. ‘I have to go.’ She touched her son’s cheek gently. ‘I am sorry your father and I are airing our differences in front of you, Lloyd.’

  She brushed past Joe without another word but the scent of him was so familiar, so very dear, that tears came to her eyes. How could she love him even now? Was it possible to be in love with two men at the same time?

  She returned to the house. On the way she felt as if everyone was staring at her, the scarlet woman. She hurried the last few steps and let herself into the sun-splashed hall.

  She took off her coat and went upstairs. In her room, she sank into a chair and stared out into the darkening blue of the evening sky.

  Perhaps she loved Joe and was in love with Dafydd. Suddenly her head was spinning and nausea overwhelmed her. She tried to rise to call the maid but then she was falling into a dark abyss in which there was no glimmer of light.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  ROSIE SAT ON the riverbank staring into the water. She seemed at ease but her calm face concealed the knot of tension inside her. She glanced at Watt and knew that the moment of decision had come.

  ‘Watt,’ she said slowly, ‘I’ll agree to give our marriage another go.’

  His eyes brightened. ‘Rosie, do you really mean it? Last time I came up here, when I saw you talking to that farmer, I thought . . . Well, you know what I thought.’ He took her hand. ‘Rosie, I’ve been such a fool, I married you thinking I was doing the right thing for your family but now I know I must have been falling in love with you all along.’

  Rosie was silent. She wanted to believe him, but there would always be an element of doubt in their relationship. She wondered if she had done the right thing. She was giving up her freedom – was that wise?

  And there were practical considerations to be taken into account. Would Watt come to live in her little cottage? He was a man of property now. Once her brothers had left home for good, Watt had been free to buy himself a large house on the western slopes of Swansea.

  ‘We’ll have to see how we get along,’ she said. ‘We mustn’t jump to any hasty decisions.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, I don’t think I’d like to move out of my house, Watt,’ she said slowly. ‘Shall we keep both our homes for the time being, see how things work out between us?’

  He put his arm around her shoulder and drew her close. ‘I don’t care if we live in a shack so long as we’re together.’ He tipped her face up to his and kissed her. She felt as though she was coming alive. It had been a long time since she had made love to Watt. Since she walked out on him she had spent endless nights alone in her bed, pining for what she could not have.

  ‘I do love you, Rosie. Please try and believe me. I’ve had other women, I can’t deny that, but I always wished it was you.’

  She closed her eyes. ‘Don’t tell me anything about your past,’ she said quickly. She could hardly bear to think of him in the arms of another woman. Still, she must make allowances for him: a woman could control her feelings but men were cut from a different cloth.

  ‘Have you had other men?’ Watt sounded almost frightened to ask.

  Rosie took his face in her hands. ‘No, I have not.’ She pressed her mouth against his, and a shock of desire ran through her. She moved away from him. Perhaps she was not as controlled as she believed she was.

  ‘And you never hankered after another man, not even in your dreams?’

  ‘I never wanted anyone but you, Watt,’ Rosie said. ‘I suppose that was my trouble all along. I fell in love with you as soon as I set eyes on you and my love has never changed.’

  He stood up and drew her to her feet, his eyes shining. ‘Let me take you home to your little cottage by the sea.’ He held her close in his arms, his cheek against her hair. ‘Let me show you how much I love you.’

  Rosie pushed aside her doubts as, hand in hand, they walked away from the river. The summer sun shone down hotly and it seemed to her that their love was blessed by the gods.

  ‘It’s not possible!’ Llinos stared up at the doctor in disbelief. ‘I am too old to have a child and, anyway, I was told a long time ago that there would be no more babies for me.’

  The doctor smiled. ‘Whoever told you that was wrong, Mrs Mainwaring.’

  ‘Are you sure this sickness is not caused by my age?’ Llinos asked. ‘In middle years women suffer strange symptoms, don’t they?’

  The doctor sat on the bed. ‘How long is it since you saw your last monthly courses?’

  Llinos frowned, trying to think. It was about three months ago when she and Dafydd had laughed and commiserated with each other because they could not make love.

  ‘About three months, I think,’ she said.

  ‘And your breasts are tender, the veins standing proud. Has there been some feeling of sickness in the mornings?’

  ‘Well, just a li
ttle, perhaps.’ She tried to concentrate. She had been off her food lately but she had thought her loss of appetite was the result of being torn between her husband and her lover. ‘It surely can’t be true!’ The implications of her condition suddenly became alarmingly clear. ‘I can’t be having another child. I just can’t, not now.’

  ‘You can and you are.’ The doctor rose and snapped shut his case. ‘I have dealt with too many pregnant ladies to be mistaken. I know you probably look on me as a new young doctor but, I assure you, I trained in the best London hospitals.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I don’t doubt your ability – but a child at my age and when I thought I would never have another one . . . It’s just too much to take in.’

  ‘Who told you there would be no more children? Some well-meaning midwife, I suspect.’

  He was right. It had been Mrs Cottle, the woman who had delivered her stillborn daughter years ago told her there would be no more children.

  Her head was spinning with questions, questions she hardly dared ask herself. ‘Thank you, Doctor,’ she said. ‘And, please, can we keep this to ourselves for the moment?’

  ‘I quite understand.’ He moved to the door. ‘My lips are sealed, Mrs Mainwaring. What is said between doctor and patient is sacrosanct.’

  He left the room and she heard him go downstairs. Then voices spoke in the hall and Dafydd was running up the stairs. ‘What did he say?’ Dafydd looked worried as he sat beside her on the bed and Llinos felt her heart melt with protective love.

  ‘I might have eaten something that disagreed with me, that’s all. Cheer up, I’m not about to expire.’

  ‘But, Llinos, it’s not like you to fall sick. Are you sure you’re being honest with me?’

  She looked away from him quickly. ‘Please, just have a glass of hot milk sent up to me. I think all I need is a good night’s sleep.’

  ‘If that’s what you want, but we can always get the doctor back here if you don’t feel better by tomorrow.’

  She waved her hand at him. ‘Go on! Stop fussing over me, I’m fine.’

  When Dafydd left the room, Llinos fell back against the pillows and closed her eyes. A baby at her age! She just could not take it in. She heard light footsteps on the stairs and the maid came into the room, carrying a tray. ‘Here we are, madam, you’ll soon feel better.’ She was looking at Llinos oddly, as if she guessed what was wrong but that was ridiculous: it would be difficult for anyone to imagine that a middle-aged woman had fallen for a baby.