Daughters of Rebecca

by Iris Gower

  ‘I thought I’d pay a visit to my estate on the Marches,’ Joe said. He looked at his son, sensing Lloyd’s reluctance to move away from Swansea. Perhaps Joe was selfish, but he could not stay and watch Llinos being happy with another man. ‘I may stay there for good, and you know you are welcome to join me any time you please.’

  Lloyd shook his head. ‘My life is here, Father. I was born in our house in Pottery Row. My roots are here.’ He smiled a soft smile, and Joe knew without being told what his son was about to say. ‘In any case, I think I’ve fallen in love.’

  ‘With Jayne Morton-Edwards?’ Joe said.

  Lloyd nodded his head. His curling hair, just touching his collar, shone like silk in the brightness of the sun. He seemed so happy, but life played cruel tricks sometimes. How could Joe spoil the boy’s dreams by telling him that, though?

  Joe stared out towards Mumbles Head. ‘Take things one step at a time, Lloyd,’ he said at last. ‘You have the wisdom of the Mandan in you. Use it.’

  ‘And what about you, Father? Where is your wisdom? Do you think you’ll win Mother back by running away?’

  ‘This is a fight I can’t win, Lloyd. The affair must play itself out and then, only then, will I have a chance of renewing my marriage vows. I treated your mother badly, son, when all she did was love me.’

  ‘Your life together hasn’t been exactly an oasis of peace, has it, Father? I can remember you and Mother shouting at each other, and the row was always about Sho Ka.’ He paused to choose his words. ‘Mother hated the fact that you had another son. I suppose it was a bitter pill to swallow when she couldn’t have any more children herself.’

  ‘I do realize that, son.’ Joe was silent, reflecting on the past, on his life with Sho Ka. He had truly believed that it was his destiny to provide an heir to the Mandan tribe. His own mother had told him so on her death-bed. But, if he was honest, he had embraced the prospect of sleeping with another woman with great enthusiasm.

  When he had taken Sho Ka to his bed, with her dark, exotic beauty, he had been as excited as a young buck. His blood was hot, his urges strong. He could not deny even to himself that being with Sho Ka had become more than just his duty.

  Could Llinos be feeling the same urges now as he had felt then? Loving her husband yet wanting another man so badly it was like a sickness?

  ‘Will you ever come home, Father?’ Lloyd’s voice brought Joe out of his reverie. He looked up at the blue sky spread wide above him. He loved this coast – he enjoyed the feel of the sandy beach beneath his bare feet. He loved the river Tawe, loved the people who inhabited Pottery Row.

  ‘Of course I will. I can’t leave Swansea for good – your mother might need me.’ He touched his son’s arm. ‘In any case, I have a dear son whom I love very much indeed.’

  ‘We’ll all be together one day, I feel it in my bones.’ Lloyd pushed himself to his feet and brushed the sand from his clothes. Joe stood up too, and realized that he was a good inch or two shorter than his son.

  Lloyd took Joe’s hand. ‘This is goodbye, then, but just for now.’

  ‘Just for now, son.’ Joe pulled him close and hugged him. ‘Take good care of yourself, Lloyd, and if you’re ever in trouble, I’ll be here.’ Joe looked up at his son. He was a man to be proud of. ‘God go with you.’

  Lloyd picked his way through the dunes, walking swiftly, his footsteps cushioned by the sand. Joe shaded his eyes from the sun to watch him and his heart warmed with love, Lloyd was a good son, a loving son. He did not for one moment presume to judge his father. There was no need for anyone else to pass judgement for Joe knew only too well that he had been a fool. Now he was the one feeling rejected, passed over for another man.

  He had a sudden mental picture of Llinos in bed with Buchan, and the pain withered his soul and his spirit. This was how Llinos must have felt every time he left her for Sho Ka. Joe stood facing the sea; his long hair drifted across his face and he felt tears on his cheeks. ‘Llinos, my firebird, come home to me soon,’ he said, but the words were carried away on the wind.

  ‘So your mother is staying with that other man, then, is she?’ Jayne was seated in the grassy garden of her father’s house, her skirts spread around her. She looked like a beautiful flower, with her hair coming loose and tendrils drifting across her face.

  ‘That’s the way of it,’ Lloyd said, ‘and I can’t blame her. It was my father who was first to stray.’

  Jayne reached out for his hand. ‘We will never be like that, will we, Lloyd? Promise me.’

  He curled her fingers into his palm. ‘I promise you that I will never look at another woman. Why should I, when I have the most beautiful woman in the world at my side?’

  Jayne blushed with happiness. ‘You wait until you see me dressed for Papa’s wedding. I will be as beautiful as if I were the bride instead of a bridesmaid.’

  ‘You are beautiful to me whatever you wear.’ He pulled her close to him and kissed her full lips. He could understand his father’s eagerness to taste the love of a beautiful woman: Lloyd knew only too well the feeling of fire in the belly, the urge to conquer and possess. He longed to throw Jayne down in the grass and make her his own sweet love. But the niceties had to be observed. He would have to wait until they were both older, more mature and, as Jayne’s father said, until they knew their own minds. Well, he knew his own mind right now. ‘It’s not long now to your father’s wedding,’ he said, wondering if Eynon would give Jayne more freedom once he had a woman to care for.

  ‘I know,’ Jayne said, ‘and there’s so much to do. I must have my hair curled and see if my shoes are fitting properly and, oh, I don’t know, a hundred and one things.’

  Lloyd smiled indulgently: Jayne was so girlishly delighted with the thought of dressing herself up and being on show as a bridesmaid. He stared at her, loving her. Her complexion was so smooth, her hair shining in the sun; she needed no gilding to make her beautiful.

  ‘So, this is where you two have got to.’ Eynon came around the corner of the house and stood, hand over his eyes, shading them from the sun. ‘Is she still talking about the wedding?’ He sat beside Lloyd on the garden bench. ‘If she’s like this about my wedding, goodness knows how she’ll be about her own.’

  Lloyd felt comfortable with Eynon, who had been a constant visitor to Pottery Row since Lloyd was a small child. Eynon was one of Mother’s best friends and Lloyd had always been able to see that Eynon’s feeling for her went much deeper than friendship. But he must have given up all hope of winning Llinos now because he was marrying Madame Isabelle, a rather stern-looking woman, though lovely in a moody sort of way.

  ‘Your wedding day is what everyone seems to be talking about,’ Lloyd said. ‘I think it’s a grand occasion for everyone in the town, especially as you are one of the richest men in Swansea.’

  ‘I suppose that’s true,’ Eynon said. ‘About everyone loving a wedding, I mean. The townspeople will be waiting for me to throw coins in the street, a good old custom that causes quite a stir. In that way, rich and poor alike can share in the festivities.’

  In that instant Lloyd’s conscience was stirred. He remembered how Shanni had introduced him to the sights and sounds of poverty at first hand. He had been appalled, wondering how people survived in such squalor. No wonder the festivities of the rich had such an impact on the people who inhabited the dark courts and backwaters of Swansea. A coin thrown carelessly could mean a week’s food for some families.

  Lloyd looked around him at the opulent splendour of the garden, the well-kept shrubs and the ancient trees. If he was to spend his life in Swansea, he should be doing something to improve the lot of the people. Not in the way that Dafydd Buchan did, by flouting the law, but something constructive that would improve conditions in the town.

  ‘What are you thinking about, Lloyd?’ Jayne’s voice filtered through his mind and Lloyd smiled at her.

  ‘Lots of things, Jayne, but mainly I was thinking about you, how beautiful you look with your ski
n touched by the warmth of the sun.’

  Eynon smiled. ‘You have your father’s silver tongue, Lloyd, and your mother’s determination. You will do well in life.’

  It was the first mark of approval Eynon had shown, and Lloyd felt a warm response to the man who had always befriended his mother but had never taken advantage of her loneliness. Suddenly he was so angry with Dafydd Buchan that he wanted to kill him. How dare the man beguile Mother into sharing his bed?

  ‘Why are you looking so cross, Lloyd?’ Jayne rested her hand on his arm, and he felt the warmth of her fingers through the cloth of his shirt.

  ‘I’m sorry, I was thinking of my mother and that man.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘I can’t bear to think of them together. It makes me want to—’ He stopped abruptly. ‘But, then, it’s not up to me, is it? I can’t govern the way my parents run their lives.’

  ‘It’s called growing up, my boy,’ Eynon said slowly, ‘when we realize our thoughts, our words, can do little to alter the course of other people’s lives.’

  ‘But you love my mother, what do you think of her behaviour?’ Lloyd asked, the edge of pain and anger still in his voice.

  Eynon patted his shoulder. ‘I do love her. We have been friends since childhood, but I wouldn’t presume to tell Llinos how she should live her life.’

  ‘Has my father made her so unhappy that she’s willing to give up everything to be with a man like Buchan?’

  ‘It looks that way,’ Eynon said. ‘Llinos took it very hard when Joe left her to live with the Indian girl. How do you expect her to feel, Lloyd? She is only flesh and blood, and she thought her marriage to Joe would last a lifetime.’

  ‘I know. I’ll make sure I never live like that. Once I marry it will be for all time.’

  ‘I hope so, son,’ Eynon said. ‘But nothing stays the same. When I married Jayne’s mother I had no idea she would die a young woman. Do you blame me now for taking another wife?’

  Lloyd shook his head. ‘No, of course not.’ Eynon was a good man and he should not live out his life alone. ‘But what happened to you is different.’ Lloyd continued, ‘You are not betraying your first wife. You have shown her every respect by waiting this long to take another woman.’

  ‘Maybe so, son.’ He turned to his daughter. ‘Jayne, be a good girl and ask one of the maids to fetch us a drink. It’s so hot out here.’

  Jayne looked surprised: it was rare for her father to ask her to run an errand. She nodded. ‘Of course, Papa, but I know you just want to get me out of the way so you can talk man talk.’

  ‘Wise girl.’ Eynon tugged at her hair. ‘Go on with you then, let me talk to Lloyd in peace.’

  Jayne took her time, skirting around the flower beds and walking between the trees as she made her way back to the house.

  ‘Lloyd,’ Eynon said, ‘I could not say this while Jayne was here but I’ll say it now. A man has needs and don’t fool yourself that I have remained faithful to my wife’s memory all these years.’ He shook his head. ‘Oh no! I have had many women, some respectable, some not. But they filled a need, an emptiness. Do you understand?’

  Lloyd stared at Eynon in surprise. He had thought of Eynon as an ageing man, not someone with hot blood running in his veins. ‘I suppose I do,’ he said reluctantly.

  ‘And that’s not all.’ Eynon stared up at the sky and Lloyd noticed the way the sun touched his hair with gold. ‘I never intended to marry Jayne’s mother. I only agreed because she was having my child.’

  Lloyd digested Eynon’s words in silence. It was hard to credit that Eynon, who appeared to be a pillar of respectability, had led the life of a rake.

  ‘Nothing is neat and tidy in life, Lloyd, just you remember that. Passions run high in men and in women and love is a cobweb that breaks at the first suggestion of a breeze.’

  They were wise words and Lloyd digested them in silence. ‘I do realize love has to be nurtured,’ he said. ‘But I can’t imagine being unfaithful to Jayne.’

  ‘I hope not,’ Eynon said. ‘And here she is returning with the maid and a tray of cooling drinks. Now remember, not a word of this to my daughter. I want her to think of me as a good old father.’

  Lloyd smiled. ‘One thing, sir, I will never think of you as Jayne’s good old father again. Thank you for talking so honestly to me.’ He watched as Jayne approached, her hair drifting back from her face in the summer breeze. She was so beautiful, so innocent. Lloyd smiled. Whatever Eynon said, he would never betray his love. Lloyd knew in his heart he would be a faithful and loving husband for ever.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re back, Watt.’ Rosie stood away from the door and allowed Watt to come into the kitchen. The cottage was filled with the warmth of evening. The soft light illuminated the whole room and Rosie blinked as the dying sun filled her eyes. She put her arms around Watt and rested her head against his shoulder.

  ‘Dafydd Buchan came here, took Llinos away with him. I hope we did the right thing, telling him everything.’

  ‘It was the only thing we could do,’ Watt said. ‘Now forget other people’s troubles. You can’t solve them all. Anyway, what’s to eat? I’m starving.’

  ‘The maid’s still away nursing her sick mammy and I haven’t baked anything. I’m sorry.’ She studied his face, wondering how he really felt about her. She and Watt had fallen into a pattern: some days Watt spent time at the cottage with Rosie and occasionally she stayed with him in his elegant house.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Watt said quickly, ‘I’ll take you out for a meal. Would the Castle suit you?’

  ‘I would rather stay here with you. We can have some bread and cheese later,’ she said softly. ‘Come on, let’s go into the parlour. It’s cooler in there.’

  They sat together on the plump sofa and Rosie touched Watt’s hand. ‘Is something wrong, Watt?’

  ‘No, not wrong, not really,’ Watt said. He leaned forward, his face earnest. ‘I’ve been thinking and I’ve come to the conclusion I can’t sit on the fence any longer. I’ve joined the Rebeccas.’

  ‘Oh no, Watt, you’ll be in danger riding with that gang of outlaws. Please don’t do it.’

  ‘I must, love. Look, we’re planning to burn the gates at Carmarthen as soon as it can be arranged, but no-one will get hurt, I promise you.’

  Rosie felt fear clutch at her heart; this was the last thing she had expected to hear. She twisted her hands together, trying to think of the right words to stop him from putting himself in danger.

  ‘It’s not going to be very pleasant, I know that, but I have to show my support. Everything will be just fine, you’ll see.’

  Rosie turned her head to stare sightlessly at the window. ‘I don’t want you to go. I can’t lose you, not after finding you again.’

  He put his arms around her. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll be all right, I promise, and I’ll be back home with you before you know it.’

  She clung to him. ‘What if you got shot? I’ve heard that the landowners are carrying guns to repel the rioters.’

  ‘I won’t get shot. Half the stories you hear about the riots are blown up out of proportion.’ He kissed her hair. ‘Look, everything I possess is yours, Rosie. You’ll be well taken care of even if something did happen to me.’

  She stared at him. ‘I don’t want more possessions. Alice Sparks left enough for my needs. I just want you to be safe.’

  ‘But you’re my wife, Rosie. Whatever has happened between us, nothing changes the fact that we are still married and you are my legal heir.’ He took her hand. ‘Don’t look so frightened. I’m telling you, it will be all right.’

  Rosie swallowed hard, her mind racing. She looked up at Watt’s dear face and knew she would always love him. Whatever differences they had in the past, she had always been glad he was still there, still alive and well.

  ‘Do you love me, Rosie? Please let me hear you say it.’

  ‘Of course I love you!’ The words burst from Rosie’s lips. ‘I’ve always loved you. Many nights I’ve cried myself to
sleep thinking of you.’

  ‘And I wanted to be with you so much, my love,’ Watt said. ‘But I couldn’t rush you into coming back to me. You were very young when we married, too young perhaps. You were a beautiful girl full of romantic dreams and I was the biggest fool on earth to destroy those dreams. Now come on, no more gloomy talk. I want to smother you with kisses and I want to take my wife to bed. What do you say?’

  ‘I thought you were starving!’

  ‘And so I am, but not for food any more.’

  Watt smiled and Rosie’s heart was full of happiness. Perhaps, just perhaps, they might be able to breach the gap that had grown between them over the painful years. One day they might become the happy married couple Rosie had believed they could be. It might be a dream but it was a dream she would cling to for ever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  JAYNE WOKE EARLY to the sound of birds singing in the trees outside her window. The sun was slanting in through the chink in the heavy curtains, dappling the floor with light, and Jayne sat up, excitement fluttering in her stomach. Today was Father’s wedding day.

  She slid from between the sheets and padded across the room to the window. Outside, the garden was in full flower; the grass, touched by dew, shone with life. The fountain sprinkled diamonds of light into the waiting bowl and Jayne sighed with pleasure. This was going to be a beautiful day, a day when Lloyd would see her in all her glory. Surely, then, he would declare himself.

  Jayne hugged herself. He loved her, he had made that very plain, but he had never said he wanted to marry her. She was still very young but Lloyd was a man now, a tall, handsome man, and he had inherited all the best features from both his parents.

  The maid knocked and entered the room with a tray of tea. Jayne climbed back into bed and accepted the tray on her lap. The appetizing smell from thinly cut slices of toast made Jayne feel hungry. Not hungry enough for a huge breakfast with her father, she had given up that practice long ago when she realized she was inclined to plumpness, but this morning she needed sustenance, something to fortify her for the long day ahead.