Daughters of Rebecca

by Iris Gower

  ‘Morning, my love.’ Her father came into the room smelling of soap. ‘And are you ready for the big day?’

  ‘I’m really looking forward to it,’ Jayne said through a mouthful of toast. ‘It’s glorious weather, the sun is shining and that means you are going to be a very happy groom, Papa.’

  ‘Does it indeed? Well, that’s good to know.’

  Eynon planted a kiss on her cheek and Jayne studied him thoughtfully. He was getting old, his hair was tinged with white, and to her it was a wonder he would even think of remarriage at his age.

  ‘Did you have a lovely day for your wedding to my mother?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘Yes, of course, the sun shone so brightly and your mother was very beautiful in her wedding gown.’ Something in her father’s words rang false.

  ‘Were you madly in love?’

  Eynon took her hand. ‘I was very happy, especially when you were born. I adored you from the start.’

  ‘I was born prematurely, wasn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ There was an edge to his voice that Jayne did not quite understand. Jayne stared at him but he was avoiding her eyes. Suddenly everything fell into place.

  ‘My mother was expecting me when you got married. That’s it, isn’t it, Father?’ she said accusingly. Of course that was it, there had been veiled hints from her grandmother on more than one occasion and the facts surrounding Jayne’s birth had always been shrouded in mystery.

  ‘You are an intelligent girl, Jayne, and I suppose you are old enough to know the truth. You’re quite right, your mother was expecting before we were married.’

  ‘And you wouldn’t have married her if it wasn’t for me?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ Her father stood up and rubbed his eyes. ‘I don’t want to talk any more about this now, Jayne. I’m getting married to Isabelle in a few hours’ time and there’s a great deal to do.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Father. Come here and give me a proper kiss.’

  Jayne hugged him. He had always been good to her, very loving. Some men would have denied responsibility for an illegitimate child but not him.

  ‘Papa, you’re a good man. Now go and get ready, you don’t want to be late for your own wedding, do you?’

  When Eynon left the room, Jayne put down the tray and slipped out of bed. It was time she began to dress. She wanted to look her best, to be Eynon Morton-Edwards’s beautiful daughter. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Lloyd, my boy, I’m going to dazzle you out of your senses today, you just wait and see.’

  ‘You look beautiful, Shanni.’ Isabelle tugged a fold of Shanni’s dress into place. ‘My bridesmaids will outshine me if I’m not careful.’

  ‘I don’t believe that for one minute, you look gorgeous,’ Shanni said. ‘Mr Morton-Edwards is a very lucky man.’

  Isabelle turned to be inspected. ‘What’s the bow like, and the ribbons, are they hanging properly?’

  ‘The back of the gown is as lovely as the front,’ Shanni said. ‘The dressmaker did you proud.’

  Isabelle did look splendid. The gown of old gold suited her tall figure and the veil of coffee-coloured lace seemed to bring more colour into her face. Isabelle’s eyes sparkled with happiness and Shanni knew that she could not wait to be married; to have a gold ring on her finger telling the world she was a wife at last.

  ‘There’s no fear of anyone outshining you,’ Shanni said. ‘You are so lovely I think your groom will fall in a faint when he sees you.’

  ‘I do hope not!’ Isabelle chuckled. She was so happy, so full of joy, so beautiful that Shanni held her breath. Was it good for anyone to be so happy? Would a spiteful fate swoop down and steal the happiness away?

  ‘It will be time to leave for the church soon,’ Isabelle said, ‘but before we go I want you to know I’m very fond of you. And I’m very pleased with your progress. Your reading is equal to that of any fine lady and your command of language can’t be faulted. And remember, Shanni, I will always be here if you need me.’

  Shanni realized quite suddenly that everything would change once Isabelle was married. She and Eynon Morton-Edwards would be living together and that meant Jayne would always be present too. Jayne had never liked Shanni and the feeling was entirely mutual.

  ‘Can I ask you something, Isabelle?’ She spoke quietly. ‘I know it’s selfish of me to think of myself on your wedding day but will I be living with you when you move into Mr Morton-Edwards’s house?’

  ‘Of course you will.’ Isabelle was staring in the mirror, tucking a stray curl into place. ‘I have taken you under my wing and you will naturally come with me when I move.’

  Shanni felt a sense of relief mingled with some misgiving. She did not relish the idea of sharing a home with the stuck-up Jayne. She watched as Isabelle looked around at the small parlour.

  ‘It will be strange leaving here but I no longer need the house so I’m giving it to you.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve made sure you will never be homeless again.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’ Shanni frowned. ‘How can this be my house?’

  ‘Because I signed it over to you. It’s all done legally, Shanni. You will need your own home sooner or later and if you grow tired of living in luxury in Eynon’s wonderful home you can escape back to this little place.’

  Shanni sank down into a chair. ‘I really have a house all of my own?’ She was awestruck. ‘You mean I can live here for ever and ever?’

  ‘That’s right. I saw my solicitor a month ago and signed the deeds.’ She turned from the mirror to face Shanni. ‘I was fortunate enough to have modestly well-to-do parents. This was their house and when they died it passed to me. In law my property should belong to my husband but Eynon does not need or want it.’

  She moved to the small desk in the corner of the room and took out an envelope. ‘These are your deeds, Shanni. Put them away safely because some time, perhaps in the near future, you will marry and need a place of your own.’

  ‘Me married, never!’ Shanni’s tone was emphatic and Isabelle smiled indulgently.

  ‘Oh, you will, when the time is right. But in any case you will always be independent. You won’t have to marry anyone if you don’t want to.’

  Shanni took the envelope and stared at it in disbelief. ‘I actually own a house all to myself, I can’t believe it.’ She hugged Isabelle. ‘Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me. I’ll always be grateful to you not only for the house but for all the rest of it, for the education and the fine manners you’ve taught me.’

  ‘But never forget that your improvement began with Llinos Mainwaring. If she hadn’t taken you in you would be living in poverty in one of those dreadful courts in Swansea.’

  ‘I know you’re right. I shouldn’t hate her.’

  ‘But you do hate her because she’s stolen Dafydd’s affections.’ Isabelle rested her hands on Shanni’s shoulders; she was a tall woman and towered over Shanni. She had a troubled expression on her face.

  ‘Dafydd would never have been yours, Shanni. Face it, my dear, he is not the man for you.’

  Shanni hung her head. ‘You saying that doesn’t make it any easier for me to accept.’

  ‘You are very young, Shanni. You have youth on your side. You must have your fun before you settle down to marriage, so don’t pine for a man who’s not meant for you.’

  ‘All right, I’ll try to be sensible.’

  ‘He’ll be at the wedding and Mrs Mainwaring will probably be with him,’ Isabelle said. ‘When you see them together you must pretend not to care. Hold up your head and show the world you are a proud young lady.’

  ‘I promise to try,’ Shanni said meekly.

  ‘Now put your deeds away and remember, you are Miss Shanni Price, property owner. Be strong and brave and look to the future, my dear girl.’

  ‘I will.’ Shanni was overcome at Isabelle’s generosity. It seemed a long time since anyone had cared about her.

  ‘I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve
done for me.’ Shanni swallowed the constriction in her throat. ‘Now I’d better finish getting ready for your big day.’

  She went upstairs to her room and stood for a moment studying her reflection in the mirror; she was small of stature and her satin gown clung to her slender body like a second skin. How would she look to Dafydd? Would he still think of her as a little girl?

  She pinned up her hair and put on the coronet of flowers Isabelle had chosen for her. She looked like a lady born to luxury and the thought pleased her. She drew herself upright, her eyes bright as she stared at herself in the mirror; she was a woman of property now and a catch for any man, even Dafydd Buchan.

  She locked the deeds to the house in a drawer for safe keeping until she could read the impressive handwriting at her leisure. She would be coming back here this evening to stay with the small staff of servants because Isabelle was going to travel for a week or two with her new husband. Both she and Isabelle thought it would be a good idea to wait until Isabelle came home before moving into Mr Morton-Edwards’s house. Perhaps she could even stay here for ever.

  Shanni shook her head in despair. There was one glaring drawback to living on her own: how would she support herself? She had no skills to speak of. Her only option would be to find a post as a governess. She discarded that idea at once; she had no intention of living in someone else’s house with a family she did not even know. Her future was far from certain, for she needed a great deal more than a house to make her completely independent. She stared at her image in the mirror, checking that everything about her appearance was perfect. She would enjoy the day; why be troubled about the future? Thanks to Isabelle, she was far better placed than she had ever thought possible. Shanni lifted her head and straightened her back. She would show the world she was a person who commanded respect. After one last look in the mirror she left the room.

  The church bells rang out a joyful message on the clear summer air. Isabelle looked up at Eynon, her heart overflowing with love. But he was not looking at her. She followed the direction of his gaze and saw Llinos Mainwaring standing close to Dafydd. Her joy vanished.

  Isabelle was aware of friends and strangers wishing her well, throwing flower petals over her, and she responded with her usual aplomb. She smiled though her heart was breaking. She knew the moment she looked up at her husband that he loved Llinos Mainwaring in a way that he would never love another woman.

  She glanced at the gold band glinting on her finger. She was a wife, a married woman. She would have luxuries such as she had never dreamed of. She would lie in the arms of the man she loved, but she would never see that love returned.

  ‘Are you happy, my sweet?’ Eynon was leaning close, whispering in her ear. For a moment she wondered if she should speak out honestly, tell him she knew that his vows to love her were a sham. She took a deep breath and forced a smile.

  ‘Of course, why wouldn’t I be happy? This is my wedding day.’ If there was an edge to her voice, Eynon failed to notice.

  From the corner of her eye Isabelle saw Llinos making her way towards them. Isabelle steeled herself to behave as a new bride would behave.

  ‘Congratulations, both of you!’ Llinos said. Eynon took her in his arms and when he kissed her it was the kiss of a lover, not a friend.

  Then Dafydd was beside Isabelle kissing her cheek. ‘You look very lovely, Mrs Morton-Edwards,’ he said playfully.

  ‘And you should be more careful, Dafydd.’ Isabelle glanced anxiously over her shoulder.

  ‘Why, what do you mean?’ Dafydd looked genuinely puzzled.

  ‘You are with a married woman, Dafydd! You are here with her in the public eye and the scandal of it could ruin you.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Dafydd said. ‘All eyes are on you today, who cares if I’m in the company of Mrs Mainwaring? No-one will even notice.’

  ‘Can’t you see this parading around with a married woman will damage your credibility as well as hers? It’s a good thing her husband did not put in an appearance, otherwise there might have been trouble here today.’

  Dafydd was frowning. ‘You’re making too much of it. We arrived separately and we will leave separately. Not even Joe Mainwaring could complain, we have been very discreet.’

  Isabelle shook her head; it was pointless to talk to Dafydd. He was blind to everything but his love for Llinos Mainwaring. And he did love her, Isabelle had no doubt about that. It was no passing fancy, no hole-in-the-corner affair: Dafydd was as committed to Llinos as if they were man and wife.

  ‘Come along, Isabelle,’ Eynon said, ‘we’d better attend our own wedding feast or what will everybody think?’ He smiled mischievously and Isabelle took his arm. She might as well carry the day with dignity and forget about Dafydd’s problems. She had enough of her own.

  She did her best to be bright and happy as any bride should be, but in her heart was a deep despair. Eynon did not love her, would never love her. She had just taken her marriage vows but had she made the biggest mistake of her life?

  The day was full of sunshine, the birds were singing in the trees and a great sense of peace filled Rosie’s heart. She walked along the familiar path at the side of the river Tawe and wondered if Watt would be home early. He would be busy at the pottery, supervising the business, running it as smoothly as if it was his own.

  She sat on the grass and, greatly daring, showed her legs to the sun. Around her, bright daisies looked up as if they were smiling at her. She was happy, so happy that she felt like a rainbow dazzling the sky. She had wanted to be with Watt for so long and she could hardly believe it had really happened.

  The peace was suddenly shattered by the sound of hoofs on the pathway above her. The Mainwaring carriage was heading along the path that led from the heart of Swansea. She caught sight of Lloyd Mainwaring and he was alone.

  Poor young man, the town was alight with the scandal of his mother’s affair. The gossip that had simmered quietly beneath the surface, spoken of in lowered voices by maid and mistress, had burst into vociferous outrage when Llinos Mainwaring had chosen to live openly with her lover.

  Rosie leaned against the comforting bark of a tree, remembering the happy days when Llinos had loved her husband, had stood by him in the face of dreadful opposition from the townsfolk. Rosie had thought the couple would never part and yet now the marriage was lying in the dust.

  Times were changing; today, Mr Morton-Edwards had married a woman from the lower orders. If that were not scandal enough, Llinos Mainwaring had attended the wedding of her friend on the arm of her lover. How the gossips would talk!

  Well, there was nothing she could do about it; she had enough difficulty running her own life. Watt wanted them to buy a house together, to live as they should, man and wife. It sounded idyllic but was it what she wanted? Was she wise to consider giving up her independence?

  ‘Rosie, wait!’ It was Watt’s voice and her heart lifted with joy. She turned and saw that Watt, tall and broad-shouldered, was striding towards her. He had such an expression of love that tears came to Rosie’s eyes. How could she not believe him when he said he loved her?

  He had remained faithful to their marriage vows even when Rosie kept turning him away every time he begged her to come back.

  ‘Watt!’ She waved to him, her heart leaping with happiness. ‘Watt!’ Her voice carried on the breeze. ‘Watt, I love you!’

  He burst into a run, his features transformed with joy. ‘Rosie!’ He stopped, breathless, a few feet away from her. ‘Rosie, my sweetheart, did I hear you right, did you say you loved me?’

  It was she who made the first move. She took his face, his dear face, in her hands and kissed him.

  ‘Come on, husband,’ she said softly, ‘let’s go home.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  ‘DAFYDD, I’M FRIGHTENED, please don’t join the rioters in this mad scheme of theirs.’ Llinos sat on the sagging chair in the window of the coaching inn and stared up at him anxiously. Her instincts told her that Dafydd would be walking in
to grave danger if he rode as Rebecca into Carmarthen.

  ‘I can’t back out now, Llinos. I’ve let them down before and I won’t do it again. The men are meeting at Nantgarredig and I gave my word I’d be there. It’s about time the greedy rich realized they can’t get away with squeezing the farmers any longer.’

  Llinos knew she was wasting her time: she would never persuade Dafydd to give up the fight against the toll rises. This was the reason why she was here in the unfamiliar surroundings of a country coaching inn.

  ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this whole venture.’ She stared down at her hands. A strong voice inside her was telling her that she would lose Dafydd if he left now.

  ‘Don’t worry so much, my lovely girl.’ Dafydd drew her to her feet. ‘Once this is over we’ll go home, I promise.’

  ‘And you will make this the last time you act as Rebecca?’ Llinos asked quietly. ‘Because I can’t live with the fear, Dafydd. I hate the whole idea of violence. Whenever men gather in an angry mob there is bound to be trouble.’

  He led her towards the bed. ‘Come on, let’s make love. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, you beautiful witch!’

  ‘Dafydd.’ Llinos stopped him, her hands against his chest. ‘There is something I must tell you.’

  ‘I know what you’re going to say – that you love me to distraction, that the very sight of me fires the blood, that you can’t wait for me to possess you,’ he teased.

  ‘No.’ She looked up at him. ‘Dafydd, this is very difficult to say.’ She took a deep breath. ‘The baby might not be yours. Do you understand that?’ She searched his face, trying to judge by his expression what his reaction would be. He held her at arm’s length and stared at her in disbelief.

  ‘I’m sorry, Dafydd, but I thought you would have realized that the night I slept with Joe, well, I might have fallen pregnant then.’ She sank on to the bed. ‘When I was with Joe, when he was sick and I went to care for him, and I—’ She saw the happiness drain from Dafydd’s face and her voice faltered.