Sea Mistress

by Iris Gower

  ‘It’s all right,’ Ellie hid her disappointment that it had taken an outsider to convince her husband of the truth. ‘It’s over and done with now. You are here with me, that’s all that matters.’

  ‘I meant to make it right, convince you of my love,’ Daniel said earnestly, ‘even if it had taken me all night.’ Ellie leaned against his shoulder.

  ‘It might well do that,’ she said, softly, ‘take you all night, I mean.’ And as she looked up into his eyes, a smile curved her lips.

  The next day, even after Daniel had left for Lampeter, Ellie felt his presence, his love surrounding her. She sang as she walked around her garden, she felt alive again, part of the world, not just an unhappy spectator.

  So engrossed was she in her thoughts that she jumped when she heard footsteps on the path behind her. She turned quickly and saw the tall, rangy figure walking towards her. ‘Boyo, come and talk to me.’

  They sat together on the warm wood of the bench situated between two tall alders. The leaves of the trees were gold and red, some of them already making a carpet in the grass. Boyo looked down at her, the questions in his eyes not lost on her.

  ‘Thank you for writing to Dan.’

  ‘I know you told me not to,’ Boyo said, ‘but I thought it for the best, I couldn’t just wait around doing nothing. Is everything all right, now?’

  ‘Everything is fine. Now we have to sort your affairs out.’

  Boyo’s features lit up. ‘You learned something of my past?’ He was tense and she felt a tinge of guilt that she had put his worries out of her mind.

  ‘Not yet,’ she hated to dampen his hopes. ‘But I have a lead, I might know someone who will be able to tell me everything we need to know.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ He sounded disappointed and Ellie reached out and touched his hand.

  ‘Have patience, Boyo, it will all come right, believe me, I can feel it in my bones.’ He was silent for a moment and then he nodded his head.

  ‘Right then. Now to business, I suppose you’d better come to talk to the foreman of the builders, it seems the workmen have hit a snag or two, run out of supplies, ordered too little timber, the usual sort of thing.’

  ‘Can’t you deal with it, Boyo?’ Ellie was too happy to spend her time organizing the work on the buildings. ‘It’s about time you started taking the reins into your own hands. How old are you now, seventeen isn’t it?’

  He nodded, ‘Aye, that’s right. Are you that confident of my ability that you’ll allow me to take up my responsibilities so soon?’

  ‘Boyo, if you can’t authorize the spending of a little Glyn Hir money, then I’m a Dutchman! Of course I have confidence in you.’

  He beamed at her. ‘Ellie, I love you,’ he said and she leaned forward and hugged him.

  ‘I know,’ she said, ‘I’m like a mother to you, aren’t I?’

  ‘Well, not quite,’ he grinned. ‘There was a time when I had quite a fancy for you, before you became Mrs Bennett, of course.’

  ‘Ah, well, you’ve grown up now, found a lady love of your own. Are you happy, Boyo?’

  ‘Happy as I can be. It’s just now I have this burning wish to learn who I really am. I suppose I won’t be content until I know something more about my background.’

  ‘I’ve made an appointment with Jubilee’s solicitor, Mr Telforth, according to the matron of the workhouse, he has the details of your birth.’

  Boyo leaned forward. ‘Why, what has Jubilee’s solicitor got to do with it?’

  Ellie shook her head. ‘I won’t know until I see him. I failed to turn up at my first appointment with him when I knew Dan was coming home but I’m going to town tomorrow and as soon as I know anything, I’ll tell you, I promise.’

  Boyo rose to his feet. ‘I’d better get on, I’ll take money from the petty cash then, get these timber supplies on their way.’

  Ellie watched him walk away down the garden path. At the gate he turned and waved and she waved back feeling a wash of affection for him. He was young, very young, but he knew the running of the tannery perhaps better than anyone. He would make a fine manager given a few years in which to mature.

  Ellie returned to the house. She would go to her room ostensibly to rest but what she wanted most was to lie on the bed she had shared with Daniel and dream about her husband.

  ‘It’s so good to see her happy again.’ Rosie slid two maids of honour onto his plate. Caradoc liked good cooking and never failed to compliment Rosie on her skill. He didn’t fail now. ‘These cakes are so delicious, so light they melt in the mouth, you really are a wonder, Rosemary.’

  He was the only one who never used the diminutive of her name. He was a precise man, he liked the figures in his books to add up and he carried on this trait into other aspects of his life with a meticulous care that charmed Rosie.

  She sat opposite and looked at him, trying to see him with the eyes of a woman who didn’t love him. It was impossible of course, others might see a rather plump young man with thinning hair but Rosie saw the kindness in his eyes, the humorous curve to his mouth, revealing his sense of fun, the one thing that saved him from being pompous.

  ‘Why are you staring at me, Rosemary, I’m no oil painting, am I?’

  ‘You look wonderful to me,’ Rosie spoke softly, ‘a knight in shining armour.’

  He leaned across the table and caught her hand in his. ‘I’ve a surprise for you, Rosemary,’ he said. ‘I was keeping it for when we went out together this evening but I can’t wait any longer.’

  He delved in his pocket and brought out a package. Rosie watched, her excitement mounting. He unwrapped the tissue paper and then held out a leather-covered box. Rosie looked at him for a long moment and then took it with eager fingers, snapping the lid open feeling almost breathless with excitement. Nestling in the velvet interior was a ring. The square cut emerald gleamed in the light from the fire and the two diamonds flanking it sparkled up at her with such brilliance that she blinked a little.

  ‘Oh, Caradoc, this can’t be for me, it must have cost you a king’s ransom.’

  ‘It was my mother’s,’ he said simply, ‘until now I was not fortunate enough to find a lady worthy to wear it.’

  She went to him and put her arms around his shoulders, hugging him to her. His head was against her full breasts and he groaned, unable to bear the sweet-smelling nearness of her without feeling the urge to ravish her there and then.

  ‘Will you marry me and soon?’ he asked in a husky voice. She pushed herself onto his knee. ‘Of course I will, I thought you were never going to pluck up enough courage to ask me. Here.’ She handed him the ring carefully. ‘Put it on my finger for me.’

  ‘It fits,’ he said as proudly as though he had made the ring to fit her himself, ‘I knew it would.’

  Rosie held her hand away from her admiring the sparkling gems, feeling her heart full of happiness. It wasn’t just that the ring was precious in its own right, it was what it meant to her and what Caradoc had felt in giving it to her.

  ‘Can I go and tell Ellie?’ she asked him smiling down into his eyes, mesmerizing him. He nodded, unable to speak and she slipped away from him.

  Ellie looked up as Rosie entered the parlour and speechlessly held out her hand. Martha was the first one to respond.

  ‘Rosie, my dear girl, you are going to marry the delightful Mr Jones, how wonderful.’ She sounded genuinely pleased and Rosie smiled at her. They had not always seen eye to eye and yet there had sprung up a sort of tacit understanding between them; in spite of everything Rosie was fond of Martha.

  Ellie took Rosie’s hand and stared down at the ring in admiration. ‘He really must love you very much,’ she said, ‘that’s a beautiful ring.’

  ‘It was his mother’s,’ Rosie said proudly, ‘he said I was the only girl fit enough to wear it after her.’

  ‘I wish you every happiness,’ Ellie said, ‘but does this mean I’ll have to look for a new maid?’

  ‘Well, not just yet,’ Rosie
said, ‘though Caradoc does want us to be married as soon as possible mind, but I won’t leave you in the lurch.’

  ‘I should hope not,’ Martha had assumed her usual tone of asperity but Rosie smiled understandingly.

  ‘I’ll miss you all,’ she said, ‘this is the first home I’ve had, the first place where I’ve been treated like a real person and I’ll never forget it.’

  ‘You are a wonderful homemaker,’ Ellie said, ‘and always so cheerful, we’ll miss you, believe me.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘Bring Caradoc into the parlour Rosie and then fetch us a bottle of Jubilee’s best port. No, on second thoughts, I’ll fetch the port, this is your celebration.’

  Rosie dimpled and turned at once towards the kitchen. She dragged a shy and reluctant Caradoc into the parlour and pushed him bodily into a chair.

  ‘Ellie’s bringing us a drink,’ she said and Caradoc looked up as Ellie came into the room with the port.

  ‘This really is most kind of you, Ellie,’ he said, ‘I do hope you don’t mind me coming to call uninvited like this but I really can’t stay away from Rosemary for very long, I’m a lost cause where she’s concerned I’m afraid.’

  ‘You are always welcome in my home,’ Ellie said, ‘Jubilee thought highly of you and so do I.’

  ‘Most kind,’ Caradoc repeated, his eyes fixed on Rosie longingly. Ellie knew how he felt, she loved Dan to distraction, she only wished she could be near to him as easily as Caradoc could be with his Rosie.

  Ellie held up the bottle of port she had taken from the cellar and stared down at the dusty label. She recognized it of course, it had been one of Jubilee’s favourites. She paused thinking of him for a moment, dreaming in the silence, remembering his kindness, his love, with real gratitude. She had been fortunate with the men in life, even Calvin had been good to her, he’d given her everything except his name. Her fate must have been pre-ordained, she decided, because had she married Calvin, she would not now be so happy. In all probability she would never have even met Daniel, what a dreadful loss that would have been.

  She shook off her thoughts, they were too profound for this time of evening when the shadows lengthened and she felt the sharpness of being without Daniel so acutely.

  ‘I’ll get the glasses,’ Rosie leaped up, ‘don’t you bother, Ellie, I know just where they are.’

  Ellie took a seat, happy to allow Rosie to have domain in her own kitchen. Martha looked over her spectacles at Caradoc, her eyes shrewd. ‘You’re getting a fine girl there, you know,’ she said, ‘a good manager of all her duties, prudent and particular as to how her house is kept.’

  ‘I know that,’ Caradoc said softly, ‘I can see I’m going to have an enormous task making her take things easy when we’re married.’ He smiled, his mouth curving at the corners. ‘Pity help any maid I employ, she’ll have to be excellent to measure up to Rosemary’s high standards.’

  ‘You are not wrong,’ Martha agreed dryly. She watched as Rosie bustled into the room with four glasses on a tray.

  ‘I’ve just been talking to your fiancé and he tells me you’ll be waited on by a maid of your own when you’re married.’

  Ellie watched Rosie with amusement, if astonishment was the reaction Martha had expected, she was not to be disappointed.

  ‘What, me have a maid?’ Rosie looked at Caradoc, her mouth agape.

  ‘Certainly you’ll have a maid,’ he said firmly, ‘I already have a good lady who does my cooking and my laundry and she will remain as part of the household, naturally. But with the extra work and the entertaining we will undoubtedly do, we’ll need a tweeny as well.’

  Rosie sank into a chair and flapped at her face with her hand. ‘Well, duw, duw, I never!’

  ‘Good enough’ Martha said, ‘about time you took life a bit easier my girl, you do the work of two around here, what we’ll do without you I just don’t know.’

  This was praise indeed coming from Martha and Rosie looked at her shaking her head. ‘I never!’ She repeated parrot-like. Ellie smiled. ‘Stop teasing, Martha,’ she said sternly, ‘give Rosie a chance to think of the future in her own good time, you’ll only vex her if you keep on about it.’

  ‘Only giving praise where it’s due,’ Martha said primly. ‘In any case, Rosie will need all the help she can get when the little ones come along.’

  ‘Little ones,’ echoed Rosie, ‘she talks of little ones Caradoc, do you hear her and us not yet married.’

  ‘She has a point,’ Caradoc said. ‘I want a son and heir like any other man.’

  Rosie put her hands to her cheeks and stared up at everyone as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  ‘Have some port,’ Ellie said filling the glasses, ‘it might help to calm you down a little.’

  Rosie smiled up at her. ‘You’re very kind, Ellie, can I ask one favour of you?’

  ‘If it’s within my power to grant you a favour then I will.’

  ‘Can I be married from here? It’s the only home I have.’ Rosie’s voice was wistful. Ellie sat beside her on the comfortable sofa and took her hand.

  ‘Of course you shall be married from here, there’s no question about it. We’ll see you well on your way with a reception and flowers and all the trimmings.’ She waved a hand at Caradoc as he moved to protest. ‘I won’t hear a word against it, I have more than enough money, you above everyone should know that, Caradoc Jones, so let me give you my wedding present in any way I choose.’

  Without any warning, Rosie began to cry, she bent her head in her hands and sobbed like a little child. Caradoc moved, quickly for a large man, and kneeling before her hugged her in his big arms.

  ‘There, there,’ he said softly, ‘there, there, everything is going to be all right.’

  Rosie looked up at him, her eyes brimming. ‘Oh Caradoc, I’ve never been so happy in all my life.’

  Later, as Ellie lay in her bed, she envied Rosie, tomorrow she would see her Caradoc again. As for Ellie, it might be weeks before she could lose herself in her husband’s embrace. She turned on her side and buried her face in the softness of the pillow and if a few tears fell from her eyes there was no-one to see them.

  Matthew was tired of waiting. Each day he’d looked in the pages of The Swansea Times and each day he’d been disappointed. What was wrong with Arian Smale, why didn’t she print the story he’d given her, was she mad? But then, she was probably hand in glove with both Bridie Marchant and with Ellie Hopkins. Well, he would wait no longer, if The Times didn’t wish to print the story of the smuggling then someone else would.

  It was a brisk day in late autumn, the trees were transformed into emblems of summer’s end. The sun was a mellow glow against the sky but Matthew saw none of it. He walked, head high, hands thrust into his pockets, seeing only the money he would get for his story.

  In the offices of the Gomerian, he had difficulty at first in seeing someone in authority. The young man at the front desk was obstructive, almost rude until Matthew caught him by his immaculate shirt front and almost dragged him over the counter. ‘Get me someone in charge before I punch your head in.’ He released the lad who fell back, straightening his clothes, his face white.

  The editor looked at him without smiling, it was clear he’d been informed that the man standing before him was dangerous, he kept well away from the counter staring at Matthew as though expecting him to attack at any moment.

  ‘I’d like to talk to you in private,’ Matthew said in a reasonable tone of voice which took the man by surprise.

  ‘On what subject, sir?’ The editor moved uneasily from one foot to the other.

  ‘On the subject of some of the top merchants in the town being involved in illegal trade. I could go to one of your competitors with the story, of course.’

  ‘No need of that sir, come along to my office, I’m sure we can do business.’

  With a feeling of triumph Matthew followed him along the corridor and into a plushly furnished office. He took the big chair set before th
e desk without waiting to be invited and after a moment’s hesitation, the editor took the chair facing him. Matthew leaned forward. ‘I have dates and times and even the amounts of money made from these nefarious dealings, I have names, of course, and all this information is yours – for a consideration.’

  ‘Have you informed the police?’ The editor asked smoothly and Matthew made a wry face.

  ‘Of course not.’

  The editor rose indicating the interview was at an end. ‘I’m sorry, sir, without proof, real, rock-hard proof, I dare not print anything.’

  Matthew wondered for a long moment if there was anything to be gained by smashing the man in the face. At last, he contented himself with overturning the desk so that the man leaped back against the wall in fear. ‘Sod you then! I’ll go elsewhere,’ he said furiously.

  When he left the office of the Gomerian, Matthew turned into the doorway of the Swan and slumped down at one of the tables. He needed a drink, more than one drink if it came to that. He placed some money on the table and watched as the landlord came swiftly to his side. Money certainly got people’s attention. Pity he didn’t have more of it, Matthew thought sourly.

  He didn’t notice the tall, rangy man who came and sat a few tables away from him. In any case, if he had seen and recognized him, he wouldn’t have cared. He took up his mug of ale and drank deeply and settled down for the evening.

  Across the room, Mac was watching, he had been following Hewson for some time. He’d seen him go into the offices of the Gomerian and hoped that the editor had not been fool enough to pay any money over to the man.

  Matthew was very drunk by the time he left the Swan and Mac was easily able to catch up with him. Mac was just behind Matthew when he slipped and fell into the gutter and quickly he moved to help him to his feet, dusting down his jacket in a helpful manner before leading him back towards the doorway of the Swan.