by Iris Gower
‘Is it, Bull? Do you really want me to find another man?’
‘I suppose it’s inevitable. You’re a beautiful woman and you’re bound to marry one day. Naturally I’d like to see you settled and happy.’
‘And what about you, Bull? Will you ever marry again?’
‘No!’ he said emphatically. ‘I can never put another woman in Katie’s place. It just wouldn’t be right.’
‘But, Bull, Katie would never have wanted you to be alone for the rest of your life. And although you can never put another woman in her place you can love again. It’s not impossible.’
‘It is for me.’ Bull spoke quietly trying to stifle the wash of hot tears that rose to his eyes.
‘Oh, Bull!’ Rhiannon drew him into the shelter of the trees that fringed the beach. ‘Bull, I hate to see you hurting.’ She put her arms around him and held him close, patting his back as if he was a child. ‘It’s only natural to mourn Katie and the baby. You loved them very much and I know that better than anyone.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘But you have to think about the future. I know it’s trite to say it, but time heals everything. You’ll never forget your love for Katie, no one would expect you to, but you must put aside your grief now. Mingle with the gentry – their doors are wide open to you. Go to the assembly rooms and enjoy the company of other respectable citizens. Attend the theatre, take one of the fine ladies you meet now to one of the posh balls. Start living again, Bull.’
He knew what it had cost her to say those words. She was letting him know that she was far below him socially and that she felt she had no place in the life he’d forged for himself. ‘I’m sure everything you say is wise and right,’ he said slowly, ‘and perhaps I’ll take your advice and try to be a bit more sociable.’
‘I’ve got to go,’ Rhiannon said. ‘Will you be all right, Bull?’
‘Yes, of course. Don’t worry about me.’ He watched her walk away, a slim, beautiful woman, and he experienced a tremendous urge to be with her, to lay her down on a soft bed and make passionate love to her. Immediately he was ashamed of the thought: he loved Katie, gentle, sweet Katie, his darling wife, how could he even think of giving his love to another woman?
He glanced along the beach, hoping for a last glimpse of Rhiannon, but the golden sands were empty of people; only the seagulls kept him company and their cry was mournful as they circled the air. Bull began to walk at a fast pace back to the town.
Jayne was sitting at the dining-table, having barely touched her meal, when she heard the rattle of wheels on the forecourt outside. She threw down her napkin and hurried to the window, her heart pounding with fear. Had Dafydd changed his mind? Was he outside even now, determined to return her to the prison he’d made for her?
Relief flooded through her as she heard her father’s voice then saw him alight from the cab and turn to give his hand to Llinos.
Jayne hurried into the hallway as the maid opened the door. ‘Father, thank God you’re home!’ She buried her face in his shoulder and tears sprang to her eyes as he kissed the top of her head.
‘Jayne, my dear little girl, what’s happened?’
‘He let me go.’ Jayne looked up into her father’s dear face.
He was tired from travelling but his eyes were shining as he met her gaze. ‘So, Buchan came to his senses, did he? I wonder what made him change his mind.’
‘I think I must thank Llinos for that.’ Jayne, still clinging to her father, reached out a hand to Llinos. ‘Thank you, I’ll always be grateful to you for what you’ve done.’
The maid was waiting to take the coats and already the footman was carrying bags and boxes up the stairs.
‘Come, my dear girl,’ her father said, ‘let’s talk in private.’
Jayne allowed her father to lead her into the drawing room.
‘Come now, no more tears, there’s something else you can thank Llinos for.’
Jayne’s heart lifted in hope. ‘Llinos, you’ve found him for me, haven’t you? Tell me, please, you’ve found Guy.’
Llinos smiled. ‘I did find Guy, and he’s heard the full story of what’s been happening. He’s so angry that he fell for Dafydd’s tricks and believed you wanted to stay with him.’
‘Oh, Llinos, thank you!’ Jayne hugged her stepmother and looked into her face. She saw, for the first time, why her father’s love for her had never wavered. ‘You are a generous-hearted woman and I’m a selfish pig!’
They sat together on the large sofa and Jayne kept hold of Llinos’s hands. ‘Tell me, how does he look? Is he well? Was he with another woman when you saw him?’
Llinos smiled. ‘He was alone, and very shocked that Dafydd would sink so low to keep you apart.’
‘When is he coming?’
‘He thinks you’re still being held prisoner by Dafydd so I’m not sure what his plans are.’
‘Oh, Llinos, why didn’t you ask him?’ Jayne got to her feet, clasping her hands together. She wanted him here and now; she longed to be in Guy’s arms, to know that what they had felt for each other had not changed.
‘Guy is a grown man,’ Llinos said. ‘I could hardly question him about his intentions.’
‘No, of course not. Forgive me, Llinos.’ Jayne resumed her seat and smiled at her. ‘I’m so ashamed now and sorry for the awful things I’ve said and done to you. I don’t deserve you.’ She looked up at her father. ‘Or you, Father. I’ll say now what I was too unkind to say at the wedding. I hope you will be happy together – your marriage is so right for both of you.’ She hesitated, then kissed Llinos’s cheek. ‘Can you forget that I behaved like a spoilt brat and start again?’
‘You were never a spoilt brat and I understood your unhappiness, Jayne. I saw how your marriage fell apart and I felt guilty about it.’
‘You felt guilty?’ Jayne was surprised. ‘I never knew that.’
‘Well, I had Dafydd’s son and I know he taunted you about Sion.’
Jayne was saved from answering as her father came and encircled both her and Llinos in his arms. ‘No more questions and answers now. My heart is overflowing with gladness that the two girls I love most in all the world are friends again.’
Jayne kissed his cheek and then Llinos’s. It was good to be back with loved ones again, free from the awful house where Dafydd had held her for what had seemed an eternity. Tonight she would sleep happily knowing that soon, very soon, Guy would come for her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
SAL WAS ASTONISHED at the change in the garden at the back of the hotel. When she’d first arrived at the Paradise Park it had been overgrown with wild grass and weeds. Now, with Seth and another man working on it, the lawns were neat and even, interspersed with colourful flowerbeds. The hedges were trimmed in a uniform procession around the grounds and now, with the sun shining on it, the garden was as good as any found at the homes of rich folk.
Seth came into view around the side of the hotel and Sal’s heart skipped a beat. She was falling for Seth but she didn’t know how he felt: he kept his thoughts to himself. He took her out on her days off work, he had even kissed her once or twice, but they never discussed her past and Sal wondered what he really felt about her.
‘Morning, Sal.’
Seth limped towards her, but she hardly noticed the way he walked: she was intent on trying to read his expression, praying that there would be some sign of love in his eyes. ‘Seth, can you help me?’ Sal pointed to the small square herb patch. ‘What’s chives and what’s parsley? Am I being silly not knowing the difference?’
‘You’re still speaking to me, then?’
Sal looked at him in surprise. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘Tom, my uncle, you know they think it might have been him who took the money from Mrs Paisley?’
‘That’s nothing to do with you, Seth. Now, come on, show me how clever you are at gardening and pick me some of these chives.’
‘I’m not very clever, Sal. I wouldn’t have known the difference between chives and parsl
ey myself a few months ago.’ In spite of his words, Seth sounded proud of himself. He took the scissors from her basket and bent over, wincing as though even now his leg still hurt. Sal wanted to rest her hand on his broad back, to ruffle the thick growth of hair that curved around his collar, but she was afraid to be too familiar in case he rebuffed her.
‘Want a cup of tea, Seth?’ she asked, as he put the herbs into her basket and brushed the dirt from his hands.
‘Well, I wouldn’t say no.’ He smiled. ‘I hope you’ll keep me company. A cup of tea’s not the same without the company of a beautiful girl.’
‘Cheeky!’ Sal whirled away to hide the blush that had risen to her cheeks. How foolish she was, acting like a shy, innocent miss because a man paid her a compliment. Didn’t all men tell you sweet things when they wanted something from you? ‘I’ll be back in a minute so don’t go away.’
She hurried into the kitchen and the smell of fresh scones rose tantalizingly from the range. ‘Cook,’ she said hesitantly, ‘do you think I could give Seth a scone to go with his cup of tea?’
Mrs Jones’s glance was shrewd. ‘Aye, don’t see any harm in that, but you’re not getting up your hopes in that direction, are you, girl?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Sal felt her colour rise again as she busied herself with the cups.
‘You know what I mean, all right.’ Cook cut through a scone and spread it with butter.
‘No, I don’t.’ Sal felt as though her insides were trembling.
Mrs Jones pushed away her mixing bowl and leaned on the table. ‘I don’t mean to be unkind, Sal, but you know what you used to be and so does Seth. I suppose that’s what I’m thinking. See, lovey, a man don’t forget things like that. Oh, they’ll be nice to you, take what they want and walk away. If that’s all you want from Seth then go ahead, girl, but if you’re hoping for marriage, forget it.’
It was a chastened Sal who took the tea and the scone into the garden. Seth was sitting on one of the wooden benches rubbing at his leg, and Sal felt a dart of pity for him. How she would like to comfort him, to rub a soothing balm into his poor stump, but then, as Mrs Jones had said, she was just a whore not a proper sweetheart to Seth.
His face lit up when he saw her. ‘Oh, Sal, you’re a good girl! Honest to God, you are.’ He took the tea, not realizing how ironic his words were, and beckoned her to sit down beside him. ‘Come on, Sal, sit with me for a bit. I get lonely for a bit of company sometimes.’
So that was it. To Seth she was just ‘a bit of company’. Well, what did she expect? Seth might not be rich, but he was a man who could offer respectability – so he was out of her reach.
‘Can’t stop, sorry,’ she said, forcing a cheerful note into her voice. ‘Cook’s playing merry hell because I been out here so long.’ She moved away from him, avoiding his eyes. ‘Leave the cup and plate on the back step when you’ve finished.’
Mrs Jones looked up as Sal came back into the kitchen. ‘Glad to see you’re not hanging around out by there.’ She was mixing flour with butter, eggs and sugar.
‘No point, not after what you said to me.’
Mrs Jones stopped what she was doing. ‘Look, Sal, perhaps I spoke out of turn. It could be that Seth is very fond of you but I just wanted to warn you.’
‘No, you’re right, Cook. Why would Seth want me when there are honest girls, like Vi and Hetty, working here right under his nose?’ She shook the teapot. ‘There’s enough left in here for us to have a cup.’
Mrs Jones nodded. ‘Aye. We’ll have a little sit-down. A cuppa always seems to make things better.’
As Sal sipped her tea she felt a tear trickle down her face. After Mrs Jones’s warning, no amount of tea would make her feel better. She was a common harlot and no one was ever going to let her forget it.
Guy stepped down from the train and breathed in the familiar smells of Swansea. The copper works along the riverbank to the east of the town sent out low sultry clouds that sometimes hung low over the houses, and from the docks he could smell salt and fish, but Swansea was a good town.
He hailed a cab and handed his baggage to the driver. ‘I’m going to a hotel, the Mackworth will do.’
‘If you’ll pardon me saying so, sir, I took a gent to the Mackworth a bit earlier and the place is full.’ He took up the reins of the horse and glanced back at Guy. ‘The Paradise Park is the place to go, these days. The food is good and the rooms are a treat to sleep in, so I’ve heard.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Not ’ad the money to find out for myself, mind.’
‘So be it.’ Guy climbed up the steps into the cab. ‘So long as it’s clean and respectable, there’s nothing more I want.’ He settled back into his seat. All he wanted now was a change of clothing and then he would be ready to face Dafydd Buchan and ask – no, demand that Jayne be released at once. He couldn’t see Buchan giving up easily but he would give way in the end, even if it came to blows.
An elderly lady greeted him in the foyer and had his luggage taken up to his room. She seemed frail and much too old to be running a large establishment like the Paradise Park. In his room, he took off his jacket and rang the bell for the maid to bring up hot water. When she knocked and entered the room, Guy looked at her in surprise. ‘Good heavens, it’s you, Sal!’
‘Oh, Mr Fairchild, how are you, sir? It’s good to see you again.’ She pushed the door shut and stepped closer. ‘Begging your pardon for being forward, sir, but have you come for Mrs Buchan?’
‘Least said on that subject the better, eh, Sal?’
‘Yes, sir, but did you know Mr Buchan let her go? She’s back at her father’s house now.’
Guy took a deep breath. ‘Are you sure of that, Sal?’
‘I’m sure enough, sir. Seen her myself in town the other day, but she looked lonely.’
A warm wave of love engulfed Guy. Soon he would be with Jayne. He would take her away somewhere, make a fresh start as they’d planned.
‘Thank you, Sal. I’d better get ready to go to her,’ he smiled, ‘and I promise you, she won’t be lonely for long.’
Jayne stood in the window, staring out at the empty roadway leading from the house into the town. She kept telling herself that Guy would arrive any day now but so far there had been no sign of him. ‘Oh, Guy, please come for me.’ She whispered the words, which tore at her heartstrings. She would be nothing without Guy and life would not be worth living.
She was about to turn away when a movement caught her eye. She strained her eyes to see who was driving the horse and trap at full gallop towards the house. And then she knew. Guy had come to fetch her.
Throwing dignity to the winds she ran to the front door and pulled it open. ‘Guy, my love, my dear love!’
He jumped down from the driving seat, hurried towards her and then she was in his arms. Guy rained kisses on her face and his tears mingled with hers.
He tried to speak but she shook her head. ‘There’ll be time for talking and making plans later. For now just hold me close and tell me you love me.’
His arms tightened around her and he looked earnestly into her face. ‘I love you, Jayne. I want you to be with me for the rest of my life.’
She sighed happily. ‘That’s all I needed to know.’
Rhiannon was standing on the pavement outside Bull’s house, staring up at the windows as if the force of her thoughts might bring him to her. She had no idea why she was here: she had meant only to walk along the sea-front, to clear her aching head, so that in the evening she could work on the accounts.
An idea struck her. What if she asked Bull to help her work out the figures? He was good at planning and business, and he could advise her on the possibility of adding a new tearoom to the hotel.
Rhiannon wanted the Paradise Park to be as good as the Mackworth, to have better facilities, if possible, than any other hotel in Swansea. But that would cost money and, right now, she had to be careful. The takings were good but the outgoings were high.
Rhiannon stepped bac
k in alarm as the door to Bull’s house opened. He hesitated, then smiled at her. She felt as if her very bones were melting. ‘Rhiannon, what on earth are you doing standing there? Come in, for goodness’ sake. You know you’re always welcome at my house.’
‘I came to ask your advice. I wanted some help with the accounts. I don’t know if I should spend some money or—’ She stopped in mid-flow, knowing she was blabbering like a hysterical girl.
She found herself being led along the neat hallway and through into the impressive sitting room. Suddenly, she felt insignificant: Bull was far out of her reach, these days.
‘What are you looking so unhappy about?’ Bull pulled a chair round to face the fire. ‘Why, you’re shivering and it’s a lovely warm day. Are you sick, Rhiannon?’
She shook her head vigorously. ‘No, I just wanted to talk to you but now I’m here I feel I’m imposing.’ Then she realized that, in spite of the shivering, her skin was burning.
Bull put the back of his hand on her forehead. ‘You’re ill. You foolish girl, you shouldn’t be out and about when you’ve got a chill.’
‘I’m all right,’ Rhiannon insisted. ‘I wanted to talk to you about the business but perhaps I should come back another day.’ Now her teeth were chattering. Bull rang for the maid. ‘I’m all right, really I am. I’ll just call the doctor and he can give me a tonic. I won’t trouble you any more, Bull.’ She tried to get to her feet, but the room swung in an arc around her. Then she was slipping into a deep, dark abyss.
When Rhiannon opened her eyes, she saw the familiar face of Richard Frost staring down at her. He was holding her wrist and frowning. ‘What is it, Richard, what’s wrong with me?’ Her voice came out thinly. She tried to sit up but her head pounded and she fell back against the pillows. Bull was standing behind the doctor, and Rhiannon realized how awkward this must be for him. ‘I must get back to the hotel,’ she said.
Richard bent close to her. ‘Don’t try to talk. You’re far too sick to be moved. Mr Beynon is calling in a nurse and you will be well looked after here, I’m sure.’ There was an edge of anger in his voice but Rhiannon was too tired to work out what it meant. ‘You should never have been outdoors unattended anyway,’ Richard continued. ‘You are a foolish young lady to go visiting alone. Let this be a lesson to you.’