by Iris Gower
Rhiannon rose from her chair and stood close to the fire, staring into the flames. Where would she go from here? Would she always be a servant at someone’s beck and call, or could she aspire to higher things?
A coal shifted in the grate, the tick of the clock seemed suddenly loud in the silence, and all at once Rhiannon felt terribly alone. All her skills at housekeeping, all her cleverness with figures did nothing to assuage the loneliness she felt when she thought of Bull and of the lowly home she’d shared with him on the trackside of the Great Western Railway.
She picked up the account books and slid them into the shelf above the desk. It was time she joined Mrs Jones and the maids in the kitchen for a chat before bed.
In the hall, she came face to face with Mr Buchan. Rhiannon nodded respectfully and would have passed him by but he held out his hand and stopped her. ‘Rhiannon, I have had a letter from Mrs Buchan. She is coming home tomorrow. I want you to strip the bed in her room and cover the furnishings with dust sheets. From now on my wife will obey me and sleep in my room.’
Rhiannon hid her surprise. She didn’t think Mrs Buchan would stand for such high-handedness. Still, as a servant it was her place to obey and not to ask questions. ‘Shall I see to it in the morning, sir?’ She was bone weary and her eyes were almost closing. When the master shook his head she suppressed a sigh.
‘I want it done now.’ His speech was a little slurred and it was clear he had drunk a great deal of brandy. ‘I am wearied by women disobeying me, Rhiannon.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She kept her eyes averted. She knew he was referring to her own refusal to sleep with him as much as to his wife’s. ‘I’m sorry, sir.’
He caught her arm. ‘Why won’t you come to my bed, Rhiannon? Am I not as good as the navvies for whom you spread your legs so willingly?’ Then he slumped against her and she realized he was almost unconscious. She propped him against the door lintel and rang the bell for the footman. He came at once, thinking the master had summoned him. The look of astonishment on his face when he saw the state of Mr Buchan was almost funny. ‘Help me get him upstairs,’ Rhiannon said sharply, and he obeyed at once. Together, they managed to get Mr Buchan into bed. She did not undress him, just pulled a blanket over him and snuffed out the candles. Then she went to carry out his orders. It would be interesting to see what Mrs Buchan made of the arrangement.
Jayne was waiting in the foyer of St Anne’s Hotel for Guy to join her. She saw him come in, watched his graceful stride as he crossed the floor towards her and felt a sense of pride: this man was in love with her.
He came close and held out his hands to her. She smiled up at him and then, disregarding the other people in the foyer, kissed him briefly on the lips. He held her close, and warmth flooded her at his touch. Perhaps it was wrong to feel this way, disloyal, a breaking of all her marriage vows, but at least she knew she was alive and that she was not frigid, as Dafydd claimed.
Reluctantly, she drew away from him. ‘We’re playing with fire, Guy.’
‘Come away with me – for good. What does anything else matter if we’re happy?’
‘I couldn’t do that, Guy. What about my father? He’s getting older now, he needs me.’
‘He would understand better than anyone how you feel. He’s never liked Buchan, has he?’
‘No, but he would be angry if I left my marriage to live as a mistress.’
‘You would be like a wife to me, Jayne, I promise you. Just say you’ll think about it.’
‘I will. It would be hard to think of anything else.’
They ate a meal they hardly tasted, sitting at an elegant table beneath the flickering candles in the chandeliers, and Jayne felt as though she was in a world of magic, where reality had no place.
She drank some wine, and then some more, and soon running away with Guy seemed a reasonable thing to do. After the meal, Guy led her to their favourite sofa in the hotel’s almost empty salon. She felt a rush of passion that frightened and surprised her.
‘I want to take you to bed.’ Guy’s eyes were dreamy; his fingers traced a pattern along her jaw and came to rest on her lips. ‘I want to be with you at every moment of the day, my sweetest Jayne. How can I live without you now that I’ve found you?’
‘Please, don’t torture me. I don’t think I’m ready to give myself to you.’ She rested her head against his shoulder and his arm encircled her. She felt safe, warm and protected.
‘I never thought I’d talk like this to any woman, Jayne, but I wish I was a poet so that I could make up the words to tell you how much I feel for you. Instead I have to rely on plain speech to say that I love you enough to lay down my life for you.’
She looked into his eyes and knew that she wanted him with an urgency she could not deny. Why was she so reluctant to cross that final barrier? All her life she’d been taught that chastity was a virtue, but what did it give you except empty nights and an empty bed? ‘I’m going upstairs now.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Wait for fifteen minutes then come to my room.’
He held her hands. ‘Are you sure, Jayne? You know I wouldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to.’
‘I was never more sure of anything in my life,’ Jayne said, and meant it. Tonight might be her only chance to experience real passion. Her heart was thudding as she went to her room.
Sal was drawing back the bed covers. Jayne looked down at her silk nightgown with its lace edging and realized it would cover her from neck to feet – not the sort of nightgown to greet a lover in, but it would have to do. ‘Help me undress quickly, Sal, and then you can go to your room.’
Sal looked at her in surprise. ‘Are you sure you won’t need me for anything else, Mrs Buchan?’
‘I’m sure.’ Jayne smiled. ‘You get an early night – I’ve been keeping you up far too late, and you’re looking peaky.’
Soon, Jayne was in her nightgown, settled in a chair near the fire. Her mouth was dry with fear. Was she more afraid of Guy coming to her room or that he might change his mind and stay away?
Sal was putting clothes away slowly. ‘Leave that, Sal.’ Jayne was aware that her voice was sharp. ‘I want a little peace before I go to bed.’
When Sal had gone Jayne smoothed down her nightgown and looked at her bare feet. What if she proved a disappointment to Guy? What if she felt the same indifference when he made love to her that she felt when Dafydd had come to her bed? Should she just lock her door and not answer when he knocked? She was so confused, so afraid, but excited too.
She heard the rattle of the door-handle and held her breath. He was here: this was the moment that might change her life for ever.
Guy came quietly into the room and knelt before her, resting his head on her knees. She ran her fingers through his hair, thick and springy to the touch. She tipped his face up to hers and looked at him for a long moment. And then he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply, passionately. A riot of sensations raced through her body. Jayne felt as if she was in a dream when Guy stood up, drew her to her feet, then lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.
She watched as he took off his clothes. His body was beautiful, strong and lean, and he stood for a moment looking down at her with such love in his eyes that Jayne wanted to cry. She held out her hand. ‘Come to bed, Guy, please.’
He slid in beside her, his arms encircling her, holding her close. Neither of them spoke as Guy gently opened the buttons on her nightgown. He slipped his hand inside and cupped her breast. Jayne closed her eyes: she wanted this, it was so right, and nothing could ever rob her of the memory of this night. His touch on her nipples made her gasp with delight. His mouth was hot on hers, his tongue probing. Jayne clung to him. ‘Now,’ she said.
When he came to her, she was ready for him; her hands ran over him as she pressed herself against him. His breath mingled with hers and his mouth tasted sweet as he kissed her.
He made love to her gently at first and then with growing passion. Jayne heard her own voice cry ou
t as sensation upon sensation encompassed her. And then, shuddering with pleasure, she became quiet in his arms, drowsing in a state of bliss. She had never known that being with a man could feel like this. It was as if Guy had given her a precious gift, one she would hold on to until the day she died.
‘So, you’ve come home to me like a dutiful wife, Jayne,’ Dafydd said, the sarcasm ringing in his voice. ‘And from now on you’ll sleep in my bed.’
‘I haven’t come home to you,’ Jayne said. ‘On the contrary, I’m leaving you, Dafydd. All I want is to pack some of my things and then I’m going.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Dafydd said. ‘You haven’t the courage to leave me.’
‘Just watch me.’ Jayne went upstairs with Sal trailing behind her. ‘Fetch Rhiannon and then you can pack some clothes for me, Sal,’ she said. ‘I’ll just collect my papers.’ She went into her room and stopped suddenly. Everything was covered in dust sheets. How dare Dafydd do this to her? Well, it was one more nail in his coffin. ‘Go on, Sal, fetch Rhiannon for me,’ she said briskly.
Sal ran off as fast as she could. Jayne imagined the girl breaking the news to the rest of the servants. They and the whole of Swansea would have something to gossip about now, something that would be more than a seven-day wonder.
‘Yes, Mrs Buchan, you wanted me?’ Rhiannon, her eyes wide, came into the room and stood with her hands clasped in front of her.
‘I want to know what’s going on here. Why is my room closed up like this?’
‘Mr Buchan’s orders, ma’am. He made me move your things into his room.’
‘Oh, did he? Well, it makes no difference because I’m leaving,’ Jayne said. ‘But I want you to look after things here for a while. You can continue to do the books and report to me at the end of the month. I’ll give you an address before I leave and later you can join me if you want to.’
‘I do want to, Mrs Buchan.’ Rhiannon hesitated.
‘What is it?’
‘Are you sure about this? It’s a big step to leave your husband.’
‘It’s what I want.’ Jayne scribbled the address of the house Guy had rented for them that morning and gave it to Rhiannon. ‘No one else is to see that.’
‘I understand, Mrs Buchan, and I’ll do my best to see that everything runs smoothly here for the rest of the month.’
‘I know you will. Now, bring my bags down into the hall, would you, please?’ Jayne hurried downstairs and saw that Dafydd was standing in the hallway waiting for her.
‘So you really mean to leave me, do you?’ he said. ‘Why now, after all this time?’
‘I’ve had enough of you. What on earth made you think I’d share your bed again?’ Jayne said. Dafydd grabbed her arm and Jayne twisted away from him. ‘Would you bully me into staying, Dafydd?’
‘Oh, go.’ He flung her away from him. ‘But you’ll never meet another man who’ll treat you as well as I have.’
‘You think not?’ Jayne smiled. ‘Well, Dafydd, your opinion is of no interest to me. You’ve bored me ever since the day we were married. I don’t know why I wanted you in the first place.’
Sal came into the hall with Jayne’s reticule and stood shifting from one foot to the other. Jayne motioned her to open the door. The fresh breeze washed into the hall carrying with it the scent of apple blossom. ‘Goodbye, Dafydd,’ Jayne said. ‘I hope you’ll be happy. At least you’ll have your mistresses to keep you busy.’
‘Go back to your father like the spoiled child you are.’
His words stung. ‘You are the one who is acting like a child. And I’m not going back to my father,’ Jayne said. ‘I’m a woman of independent means – or have you forgotten?’
‘Well, it’s of no concern to me where you go.’ Dafydd turned on his heel and walked towards the drawing room. ‘You’re not taking the servants, though. Rhiannon, put those bags down and you, girl,’ he gestured towards Sal, ‘you’re not to lift a finger to help the mistress, is that understood?’
Jayne shrugged. It was Dafydd’s last attempt to humiliate her. ‘That’s all right, Sal, you stay. I’ll send for you when I need you.’
Jayne went outside and threw her bags into the carriage. The driver shook the reins, clucked at the horses and they moved forward along the drive. She sat back in her seat and sighed with relief as the distance between herself and her old life widened. Now she could look forward to a new life with the man she loved.
She was about a mile away from the house when she heard the thunder of hoofs behind her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Dafydd gaining on her effortlessly.
He caught the reins of the carriage horses and pulled them to a halt. Then he came round to the door and stuck his head through the window. ‘Is it true you’re going to Guy Fairchild?’ he demanded.
Jayne lifted her head. ‘You got it out of poor little Sal, did you?’
‘Never mind that. Let me just tell you what a fool you are.’ Dafydd was smiling, his hair ruffled by the wind, his cheeks red from riding. Even now, angry though he was, he was a handsome man. How strange that his looks failed to move her.
‘I put Guy up to this, I told him to talk sweetly to you to get you to sell him the railway shares.’
‘Liar!’ Jayne said quickly. ‘Guy wouldn’t do anything like that. You’re just making it up because you can’t believe I’m leaving you.’
‘You stayed at the St Anne’s Hotel and Guy joined you there at my request. Ask him, if you don’t believe me.’
‘I will. Now, let me pass, Dafydd, before I start to scream and bring the tenants running from their houses.’
‘I’m telling you the truth, Jayne.’ Dafydd spoke earnestly. ‘Now Guy has played me false and taken you from me. I never wanted that.’
‘What would Guy have to gain by taking me away from you?’ Jayne asked desperately.
‘Have you spoken about the shares?’ Dafydd asked. ‘No need to answer, I can see that you have. You offered them to him, didn’t you?’
‘What if I did?’ Jayne lifted her chin. ‘Guy is a rich and successful man. Why would he want a few railway shares?’
‘Because I offered him a handsome reward for them and then it must have occurred to him that he could have you and the shares. He told me he had a fancy for you, not that he would be married to you for a king’s ransom but he thought a dalliance might prove amusing.’
‘You’re lying!’ Jayne said dully, but somehow his words rang true. She bit back the tears of humiliation. Then she told the driver to turn back and they headed for the home she loathed. Of one thing she was certain: she wouldn’t be staying there with Dafydd, but neither would she be running off with Guy. All men were cheats and liars and from now on she wouldn’t be dependent on any of them.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DAFYDD WAS SEETHING with rage as he stared at his wife across the long dining-table. Jayne looked pale and sick. She had spent the night in one of the servants’ rooms, determined not to sleep with him at any cost. Well, that was going to change.
‘So, I can assume that Guy Fairchild had his way with you?’ Dafydd said, ignoring Sal who was pouring his tea. Jayne gestured to Sal to refill her cup. ‘Go on, admit it, you’ve made me a cuckold.’
Jayne sparked into anger. ‘All right, I admit it! And for the first time in my life I knew the happiness of being with a real man.’
Dafydd threw down his napkin and got up, his face red with anger. He grasped her arm and propelled her out of the room. How dare she make a whore of herself with Guy Fairchild? He pushed her into the bedroom and kicked the door shut with his foot.
‘Tell me the truth, has he been in bed with you?’
‘I’ve told you the truth. Are you too stupid to understand it?’ She tried to extricate herself, but he tightened his grip. ‘Dafydd, you’re hurting me.’ Her face was white and her eyes were dark with guilt. Dafydd knew then that she had been unfaithful to him, with a man he called a friend.
‘You dirty whore!’ He slapped her h
ard across the face and she tumbled back onto the bed. ‘You have betrayed me and ruined a damned good friendship into the bargain. I see I’ll have to teach you a lesson you’ll never forget.’
He felt nothing but cold anger as he tore aside her skirts. She tried to push him away but he easily overpowered her. ‘You gave to another man what you have refused me, your legitimate husband. Well, I’ll have no more of it!’
He thrust into her, wanting to hurt her, and he felt the burn of triumph as he heard her cries of distress. He felt no love, no joy, all he knew was that he would have his revenge on the woman who had made a fool of him.
As he pumped away at her, he was aware that she had become still and unprotesting beneath him. When he glanced at her white face he could see that she was crying. He felt no pity as he finished the act and rolled off her. ‘From now on you’ll do as I say.’
She put her hands over her face and he saw her shake with sobs. He felt glad that he had hurt her as she had hurt him. He left the room, turned the key in the lock, then went down to the sitting room. Suddenly his anger disappeared, like mist before the sun. He had acted like a beast – he had raped his own wife.
But how much could a man take? She denied him a normal marriage and, most importantly, children, yet she had allowed another man to be intimate with her. Well, he had dealt with Jayne. Now he must find Fairchild and thrash him to within an inch of his life.
He pushed himself out of his chair and went to teach Fairchild a lesson he would never forget. What Dafydd Buchan owned he kept, and that included his wife. He clenched his fists. He would not be satisfied until he had beaten the man senseless. Then, perhaps, he could begin to pick up the pieces of his life.
For some hours Jayne remained where Dafydd had left her, still and silent on the bed, her torn clothes in disarray around her. She felt like the whore he had called her, she felt dirty and used and, in that moment, she hated all men. At last, she roused herself and rang the bell for Rhiannon, wincing at the pain that burnt through her body. When Rhiannon came in, Jayne fell into her arms and cried bitter tears that stung her bruised face.