Kingdom's Dream

by Iris Gower

  ‘Now, Mrs Morgan, I’ve got you where I want you.’ He looked so fierce, his eyes gleaming, his touch on her shoulders urgent, that Shanni found she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

  Quickly he took off his clothes, fell across her, undid her bodice and pressed his hot mouth to her nipple. Shanni moaned with pleasure. As he took her to the heights of passion she cried out his name, knowing that if this was not love it was the nearest she was ever going to get.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Katie was still shy with Bull because he seemed so strong, so self-assured, and she still couldn’t believe he might be interested in her. It was too early to say that they were walking out together but Katie knew that she was falling in love with the big, gentle man.

  It began to rain but Katie didn’t mind: she was with Bull, which took away all thought of the weather.

  ‘How is work going? Do you like being a lady’s maid?’ Bull looked down at her from his great height and she resisted the temptation to take his hand.

  ‘I think I’d rather scrub floors than dress Miss Jayne, but as long as I pretend to be stupid I get on with her.’

  Bull stopped walking and put his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. ‘You’re so lovely, Katie, funny and warm as well as beautiful. I can’t believe my luck that you’re here with me.’

  The words thrilled Katie. Bull was telling her that she was his girl and colour flooded her face. He was a perfect gentleman: when she’d told him she was picking up the last of her belongings today from the house in Greenhill he had insisted on coming with her. When they reached the house she knocked timidly on the door, feeling a flutter of apprehension. What if the new tenant had thrown her things out into the backyard?

  A large florid-faced woman opened the door. She stared suspiciously at Katie. ‘If you’re beggin’ I ‘aven’t got nothing so go away.’

  ‘No, it’s not that—’ Katie began but the woman was closing the door.

  Bull leaned forward and held it open. ‘Miss Cullen has come to collect her belongings. I’m sure that’s all right with you, Mrs . . .?’ He smiled and the woman was transformed.

  ‘You’re Bull Beynon from the railways. I’ve heard about you and all good. Come in, don’t stand in the doorway there and catch a chill.’ She shuffled backwards to let them pass. ‘I’m Maeve O’Connor, got some kin working on the railways, see? Do you know Seth and Dan O’Connor?’

  Bull smiled easily. ‘I certainly do. We won’t disturb you for too long, Mrs O’Connor, we’ll pick up everything now and then we won’t have to bother you again.’

  Katie followed him into the house, admiring the ease with which he had handled the awkward woman. No wonder they’d made him foreman on the line – he had such a way with people. She put her bits and pieces into a bag – there wasn’t much, just the pair of china dogs her mother had loved, and a few clothes she had not been able to carry last time.

  As soon as she and Bull left the house she sighed with relief. ‘Thank goodness that’s over,’ she said. ‘It was kind of you to come with me. I don’t think I’d have got past that dragon if I’d been on my own.’

  Bull grinned. ‘Well, even I was a bit afraid of her sharp tongue. Give me a tough navvy in drink before a woman in a bad mood any day. Look,’ he continued, ‘I’ll come with you to the Big House, drop these things off and then perhaps I could take you for a walk along the beach?’

  Katie glanced up at the sky. A breeze had sprung up and was chasing away the rainclouds. ‘That sounds lovely . . . Bull.’ She said his name shyly.

  ‘Lovely and safe?’ Bull teased. ‘I can hardly take advantage of you outdoors with the rest of Swansea looking on, can I?’

  Not that he ever would take advantage of her. Bull had such fine manners and she loved him for it. She longed to tell him how she felt about him, but she didn’t want him to think her forward.

  ‘Right, then, Miss Cullen, let’s get you back to the Big House, drop off these things and spend the afternoon doing just as we please.’

  Llinos felt at a loose end. Without Joe the house was strangely empty and she missed him badly. She missed Lloyd, too, with his arcane wisdom and his ability to laugh at small things. Even though she had grown used to their son’s absences while he was at college, it unsettled her to know that he was in America.

  She was troubled: would Lloyd really give up all he had worked for to live with a Native American tribe? Would he exchange a secure future for a dream? It certainly seemed that way.

  From upstairs Llinos heard the sound of her younger son laughing, and her features softened. Sion was a joy. He was not too old to hug and kiss her, and when he wound his arms around her neck she felt she held the whole world in her grasp.

  The laughter stopped, and the only sound now was the rain. It had been pouring off and on for the best part of a week and the gardens looked dispirited. Standing at the window, looking beyond the garden to where the kilns steamed as the heat inside met the day’s chill, Llinos felt as though she had been abandoned by the whole world. And Dafydd would soon be married, lost to her for ever.

  She frowned. What could Dafydd have in common with such a selfish girl? Jayne needed to grow up before she was ready for marriage. As for herself, perhaps she was too old for love – at least of the passionate kind. Would she never again know the starburst of sensation that had been so thrilling, so rejuvenating?

  She sank into a chair and covered her eyes with her hands. Dafydd. She could picture him now, well built, muscular, with a fine white skin.

  The jangling of the doorbell startled her and Llinos looked up and towards the window. Who was visiting her at such an early hour? Her heart leaped as she saw the carriage standing outside the front door. The monogram, gleaming gold in a sudden shaft of sunshine, told her that it belonged to Dafydd Buchan.

  The maid looked into the room and spoke in a hushed voice. Ever since Joe had gone away she was acting as though there had been a death in the household. ‘Mr Buchan to see you, Mrs Mainwaring. Shall I show him in?’

  Llinos’s first instinct was to say no but, heart fluttering inside her like a trapped bird, she nodded. The maid disappeared, and then Dafydd was in the room, filling it with his presence.

  ‘Dafydd,’ her voice was faint, ‘what are you doing here?’ She pulled herself up sharply. ‘Please, sit down.’ He looked no different from when he had been her lover.

  Instead of sitting down, he crossed the room and then she was in his arms. ‘My love, don’t talk to me as if I was a stranger.’ His hair brushed her cheek and she was filled with an overwhelming longing to lie with him just one more time, to feel his hands on her, to have him move within her and bring her such joy.

  It was madness to think like that, and Llinos disentangled herself. ‘Dafydd, please, don’t touch me. I can’t bear it.’

  He took her hands and led her to the sofa, his fingers entwined with hers. ‘Llinos, listen to me,’ he said gently. ‘If I could have you I would never look at another woman. As it is,’ he shrugged, ‘I’m going to marry Jayne. You must see that I need a marriage and children to take over from me some day. But I will always care for you and Sion, you know that.’

  ‘I will look after Sion,’ Llinos said stiffly. ‘You know I can provide for him so don’t trouble yourself.’

  Dafydd looked into her eyes. ‘I still love you, Llinos, and, God help me, I still want you as much as I ever did.’

  He touched her shoulder and instantly she was aflame. She rose quickly and put as much distance between them as she could. ‘Dafydd, please don’t torment me like this. You are going to be Jayne’s husband, and you must be faithful to her or you will destroy her. She is young, she has dreams, and those dreams include a husband who loves her.’

  ‘But I don’t love her,’ Dafydd said quietly. ‘Believe me when I tell you that this is a marriage of convenience, nothing more or less. Of course I will try to make her happy, that goes without saying.’

  ‘I can’t bear it!’
Llinos said brokenly. ‘I keep picturing her in your arms, as you make love to her in the way you made love to me.’

  ‘It will never be like that.’ Dafydd came towards her. ‘You will always be first in my heart.’ He took her in his arms and, with his hand behind her head, forced her to look up at him. He kissed her then, and she melted against him. ‘How could I give her my body in the way I gave it to you when I can’t give her my heart or soul? You already have them, my sweet girl.’ He kissed her again, and Llinos prolonged it, wanting more of him.

  At last she moved away. ‘Please go, Dafydd. I can’t bear to be with you, now that you belong to someone else.’

  ‘I want you so much,’ Dafydd said, breathlessly. ‘Please, Llinos, can’t we . . .’

  His words trailed away as Llinos held up her hand. ‘No, we can’t!’ Tears burned her eyes. ‘It’s over between us, my love.’

  ‘Are you saying you don’t want me? Because if you are then I know you’re lying.’

  She shook her head. ‘I want you as much as you want me, but we can’t be together, not now, not ever.’

  ‘Ever is a long time.’

  Dafydd moved to the door and Llinos almost begged him to come back to her but she straightened her shoulders. ‘I can’t be the one to hurt Jayne,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve known her from the day she was born.’ She fought for control. ‘She is an innocent and doesn’t know yet that infidelity and betrayal are part of every marriage.’

  ‘Llinos, it’s not like you to be so cynical,’ Dafydd said. ‘You are so sad, and if I could save you pain I would, you know that. But I can’t lead my life like a monk. Please, though, Llinos, say you’ll let me see Sion sometimes.’

  ‘Sion knows only one father and he is Joe,’ Llinos said firmly. ‘He must never know the truth.’

  ‘But he’s bound to find out one day, Llinos. You must see that.’

  She sank into a chair. ‘You may be right, but now he’s too young to understand the ways of the world. Let him enjoy his childhood.’

  ‘I sometimes think children know more of what’s going on than we give them credit for,’ Dafydd said gently.

  ‘Please, you must go, Dafydd. We have nothing more we can say to each other.’

  ‘Goodbye then, my love.’ He kissed her hand. ‘And remember, I’ll never stop loving you.’

  She stood in the window and watched him walk round the house towards the stables, then returned to her chair and once more covered her face with her hands. She felt even more alone than ever.

  ‘What do you think, Dafydd? The oyster or the virginal white?’ Sunlight splashed in through the windows of Howell’s Emporium as Jayne held up the scraps of fabric.

  He scarcely glanced at them as he thought of her naïvety. She was a virgin in every sense of the word, the sort of girl any man longed for, chaste and wealthy, but Dafydd had drunk of a more mature wine and had no taste for novelty. ‘Pristine white for you, Jayne,’ he said smoothly, ‘to reflect your purity.’ He searched her face for any sign that she had understood the irony in his words. She had not. Indeed, she was flushed with what he took to be pleasure.

  ‘Then white it will be.’ She included the salesman in her beatific smile. ‘Send a bolt of the satin to my father, will you, Frazer?’ She took Dafydd’s arm and led him towards the door. He smiled down at her indulgently. She was a pretty thing and so easy to please: Jayne would make him an excellent wife, not too demanding, not too bright, and certainly with no ambition except to have a gold band on her finger. ‘You’re such a sweet girl,’ he said, and Jayne smiled up at him, her small teeth white and even, her pale skin tinged with pink.

  ‘Do you think so, Dafydd?’ There was an edge to her tone and Dafydd wondered if she was more perceptive than he gave her credit for. ‘You do really care for me, don’t you?’ she said. ‘You never say much so I don’t know what you’re thinking or feeling.’

  Dafydd patted her hand without speaking. It was a good thing she did not know that his thoughts were too often of Llinos. Poor Jayne: she would never fathom him. There was only one woman who understood him and that was Llinos Mainwaring.

  They left the hurry and bustle of the main streets and sat close together in Dafydd’s carriage. He stared out at the sun-dappled hedgerows and speculated on his life and loves. He had done well in both. He had loved Llinos for years, and he would not have missed those times for anything. Now he had Jayne, who adored him and would give him healthy children. Financially he would always be secure by virtue of his father’s enterprise in the early years of the century, and in fact he was one of the richest men in Wales.

  He would have liked to buy into the new railway line but he had made his move too late: the shares had been sold. It was an opportunity missed because soon there would be a station in Swansea. Some time ago he had stood on the hill and looked down at the work in progress on the track, knowing that this was the future, that this railway would reap a great harvest in a few years’ time.

  Still, Dafydd was never one to shed tears over investments he might have made. He had his own pottery, his extensive farmlands in Carmarthen, and now his shares in the big Swansea Pottery. He had no need to worry about the future: he and his brother and their families would live well for the rest of their lives.

  Ceri. The thought of his brother sent Dafydd’s spirits spiralling downwards. It would be a miracle if he lived to see Dafydd married. Whatever ailed Ceri, it was sapping the strength from him and lately he had lost even the hope that had been so much a part of him. He had one comfort, his belief in a just God, and he prayed devoutly.

  ‘You’re very deep in thought, Dafydd. Look! We’re home! Wake up, my darling, and shake off that gloomy expression.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He covered her hand with his. ‘I was thinking of my brother, wondering if he will be well enough to come to the wedding.’

  ‘Of course he will. It’s only a few weeks away.’

  He was tempted to snap at her, to tell her that not every story had a fairy-tale ending, but the look on her face of admiration and love stopped the words in his throat.

  He alighted from the carriage and helped Jayne down onto the gravel of the drive that led to her father’s house. He wondered how he would be received this time: Eynon Morton-Edwards’ feelings fluctuated between acceptance of the situation and open hostility.

  Eynon was in a genial mood, and as Jayne took Dafydd’s arm and followed her father into the drawing room he could see why. Llinos was sitting there, her skirts spread around her dainty feet, and at her side was Sion, the image of himself. He saw her glance at his hand holding Jayne’s, and though she struggled for composure it was clear from her eyes that she was unhappy.

  ‘You know Mrs Mainwaring, of course,’ Eynon said, his voice edged with sarcasm, and glowered at Dafydd.

  ‘Yes.’ Dafydd spoke just as tersely and moved to sit beside her. ‘How are you, young fellow?’ He looked into the face of his son, caught between love and anger. They could all be together, if only Llinos would come to him, damn it! They belonged together, but Llinos moved into the furthest corner of the sofa so that Sion was seated between her and Dafydd. He felt almost as though they were a family, visiting friends, that soon they would go home together, he, Llinos and their son.

  ‘Come with me, Dafydd, darling.’ Jayne took command of the situation in her usual girlish manner. ‘I want you to see the flowers I have chosen for my bridal bouquet.’

  Dafydd could not shake off a vision of Llinos in his arms. The feel of her and the scent of her haunted him.

  ‘Dafydd!’ Jayne took his hand and drew him to his feet. ‘Come, you’re daydreaming. What am I to do with you?’ She looked back at Llinos. ‘I know you’ll excuse us,’ she said. ‘You and Papa will be free to talk about the past with we young ones out of the way.’

  She smiled at Sion. ‘Would you like to come with us? You can see the gardens and choose some flowers for your mother.’

  Poor silly Jayne – she did not detect the strained at
mosphere. Dafydd looked back at Llinos, who was staring doggedly at her hands.

  Tentatively he took his son’s hand and allowed Jayne to lead them outside into the freshness of the garden. His son’s fingers curled around his and Dafydd felt tears behind his eyes. Why could a man not just take what he wanted from life?

  Jayne was fussing among the flower-beds, disturbing the gardeners without a thought for the inconvenience she was causing. Well, this woman was to be his bride, Dafydd thought, and if he was to make an amicable marriage he must stop criticizing her every move.

  ‘What do you think of these yellow roses for my bouquet, Dafydd? Will they look pretty?’

  He took a deep breath. ‘No, I think the pink. With your fair colouring the pink will look best.’

  ‘You’re right, of course.’ Jayne dimpled up at him, her hand resting possessively on his arm. ‘But you are always right, my darling. That’s why I love you.’

  Dafydd became aware that his son was looking up at him. ‘I want to go back indoors,’ the boy said, bored with this talk of flowers and weddings. Dafydd sympathized with him.

  ‘I’ll walk with you to the door of the orangery and you can go through to the sitting room. I’ll not be long, Jayne.’ He was reluctant to let his son go and savoured the moments as he walked past the green lawns towards the house. ‘You’re a fine boy, Sion, and I hope we will see more of each other,’ he said gently.

  The boy looked up at him, his face bright, his eyes intelligent. ‘But you’re going to marry Jayne. I don’t suppose you’ll have time for us then.’ He slipped his hand out of Dafydd’s.

  ‘Oh, I’ll have time,’ Dafydd said, his throat constricted. ‘I’ll always have time for you.’

  He watched as Sion disappeared into the orangery, and the sun, glimmering on the windows, obscured him. A moment later, Dafydd turned and made his way slowly back through the gardens to where Jayne was waiting.

  CHAPTER SIX