Kingdom's Dream (34 page)

The next few days were torture for Llinos. She brought in doctor after doctor but none of them could find anything wrong with Joe. And yet he was fading away before her eyes.

She couldn't sleep. Every night she lay curled close to him, feeling the safeness of him, knowing she couldn't face life without him. It was the night before the Sabbath at about three in the morning when Llinos heard her husband sigh. She had kept the candles lit and now she drew one closer to her and looked down at Joe.

His eyes were open and he smiled, looking as young and handsome as the first time she'd set eyes on him.

‘I have to go now, my lovely.'

‘No, Joe, please, don't leave me.'

‘My heart will stop beating but my soul will go on loving you, believe me, little firebird. Now, just hold me close.'

She held him, his head against her breast, and she willed him with all her strength to live. And then, quite suddenly, he was still. She looked down at him. His face was in repose as if he had gone to sleep, but she knew that his spirit had left his body. Her Joe was dead.

The funeral took place on a day filled with sunshine. Bright, cloudless skies made a mockery of the black-clad figures of the mourners. The hearse, drawn by two black horses, carried inside it the only man Llinos had truly loved.

She clung to the hand of her young son as Father Martin conducted the burial service. Standing by her were her only close friends, Eynon and his daughter Jayne. Few of the Swansea inhabitants had thought it necessary to turn out for the funeral of a foreigner. They had shunned Joe in life and intended to pay no respects to him now that he was dead.

Llinos thought she had cried all her tears but now, with Joe's coffin being put into the ground, more came.

‘Ashes to ashes,' Father Martin intoned, ‘dust to dust.'

Llinos bowed her head and prayed for comfort, but there was none. Her life might go on but it would be barren without her Joe.

Then the service was over and Llinos felt Eynon's hand on her arm as he drew her away from the grave. Sion's grasp on her hand tightened and Llinos made an effort to wipe away her tears.

‘Don't cry, Mama,' Sion said softly. ‘Papa is gone to the Great Spirit but he will always be there to look after us.'

‘I know, darling.' Llinos lifted her head and walked proudly through the gates of the cemetery. Now she must learn to live without her beloved Joe.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Katie watched as the funeral procession passed by her, feeling sorry for the mourners. There were not many, just the widow and her son, and Mr Morton-Edwards with Jayne.

Katie felt a deep sympathy with Mrs Mainwaring; she was covered in black, even her face hidden by a veil, but she could tell by the stoop of her shoulders how unhappy she was. Mr Mainwaring had seemed a strong, healthy man, but life could play strange tricks on people. Perhaps, Katie thought, she should take warning from all this. She shouldn't let life pass her by. She should see Bull, ask him why Rhiannon had been in his house that morning. There might be a reasonable explanation.

She went into the churchyard and watched as the kindly Father Martin performed the ceremony. His words were just audible to her as she stood in the shelter of the trees. She felt the solemnity of the occasion and tears came to her eyes. She wanted to run away through the winding streets of Swansea and fling herself into Bull's arms. Surely all that mattered was that they loved each other.

He had done his best to see her – he had even called up at the Big House several times but she had refused to speak to him. Had she been too hasty?

She watched as Mrs Mainwaring walked by, holding her son's hand. Mr Morton-Edwards nodded to her as he went past, but he did not stop to talk. He caught up with Mrs Mainwaring, put a hand under her elbow and guided her back towards the carriage.

Katie waited until everyone had gone, then went up to the grave and bowed her head. She did not know much about Mr Mainwaring, except that he had been a kindly gentleman, good and gentle to all he met. She turned and left the churchyard, walked slowly back along the road. The summer sun was going down and the shadows falling against the ground were violet, shading away into a deep purple.

Katie stood at the crossroads and wondered if she should go back to the Big House or try to see Bull. She found herself walking towards his home, and though her heart was thumping in her chest she knew she must try to put things right between them. She stood for a long time outside his house. The evening was drawing in and lamps were being lit in windows. But the windows of Bull's house remained dark.

All at once a jealous rage filled her: was he even now with Rhiannon in that hut they had once shared at the side of the track? Was he holding her and kissing her and telling her he loved her?

She tried to think calmly. Tomorrow was the opening of the line into Swansea, and Bull was probably with Mr Cookson the engineer making final plans. She might as well go home.

The walk to the Big House took almost an hour, and by the time she arrived at the back door the sun was setting.

‘Duw, duw!
Where have you been all day, Katie Cullen?' Cook was taking a meat pie out of the oven, pans were boiling on the range and the kitchen was stiflingly hot.

‘It's my day off, remember?' Katie said. ‘I went for a walk and I came across the funeral of the American Indian gentleman. I stopped to pay my respects.'

‘Oh?' Cook placed the pie on the hob. ‘Was he buried in a decent church, then? I thought he was a heathen.'

‘I don't know about that but he was a kind man,' Katie said. ‘He must have been, to take care of the little boy the way he did.'

‘Aye,' Cook said. ‘You're right enough there. He wasn't the boy's natural father.' She glanced round, as if afraid of being overheard. ‘You know who the father is, don't you? Mrs Buchan's husband.'

‘I've heard talk,' Katie said, ‘but it's not for us to judge, is it?'

Cook ignored her. ‘I know Mrs Buchan is a hard mistress to serve, but no woman deserves to live with a man who can't keep his trousers on!'

Katie frowned. Cook was so blunt.

‘And what about you, then? Have you seen Bull Beynon today?' Cook's eyes were bright with curiosity. ‘I know you and him have fallen out again but take my advice and make it up with him. You won't find a finer man.'

‘But I saw Rhiannon coming out of his house early one morning, Cook. How can I trust Bull now?'

‘Listen, my girl, you don't take no notice of women like Rhiannon. Mind, she's out to get Bull back whatever way she can – he's a good meal ticket, especially now he's been made up to manager.' She puffed out a breath. ‘Those maids are taking an awful long time laying the table. Go and fetch them, Katie. They'll be loitering around like ladies of leisure. You'd better give them a hand or we'll never get done here.'

Supper-time at the big house was always busy and so it was tonight, even though Mr Morton-Edwards and his daughter were the only ones present. For a while Katie was too busy to think of Bull or Rhiannon, but as she served the food she couldn't help hearing the conversation around the table.

‘I'm so sorry for Llinos,' Mr Morton-Edwards said. ‘She's bereft without Joe.'

‘But she didn't stay true to him while he was alive, did she?'

‘I don't condone what she did but in her heart she always loved Joe very deeply.'

‘Then why did she go to my husband?' Jayne demanded.

Katie kept her eyes lowered. What the master and his daughter were saying was no business of hers.

She felt rather than saw the master shrug his shoulders. ‘I've asked myself that a thousand times. It could be that she wanted to prove to herself she was still desirable.'

‘Well, my husband thought so – he probably still does.' Jayne waved her napkin in an effort to cool the red flush that stained her cheeks.

‘And Joe had taken a mistress, remember,' the master said. ‘Anyway, she finished with Buchan long before he was married to you.'

‘Well, I don't think she should be playing the part of the grieving widow, not when she's free to get another man into her clutches.' She glanced up at Katie, who made every effort to appear engrossed in her task of taking away the soup plates. ‘I only hope you're not going to be stupid enough to fall into Llinos's arms now that she's alone, Father.'

‘What I do is my business – and we will not talk about Llinos any more, we will only quarrel.'

Katie left the room. The gentry could make a mess of their lives just as poor folk did.

In the kitchen Cook was taking a rest. She looked up at Katie as she came in and said, ‘Now, Katie Cullen, my advice to you is to talk to your man. Tell him all that you saw and let him explain. It's only fair to hear his side of it.'

‘I know, Cook, but I can't get it out of my head that Rhiannon stayed with him in his house all night alone. What if she tempted him and . . . well, you know.'

Cook leaned forward. ‘Listen to an old woman before you ruin your life with jealous thoughts. You know full well that Rhiannon walked out of here without thinking about a roof over her head. If she turned up on the man's doorstep with nowhere to lay her head, do you think Bull could turn her away?'

‘I suppose not.' Cook's words confirmed what Katie had thought. ‘You're right, Cook,' she said. ‘I should give him a chance to explain. I'll go and see him tomorrow when I do the shopping.'

‘Aye? Well, don't forget tomorrow's the opening of Swansea station. Crowds will be there to see this Mr Brunel person and I doubt you'll get a chance to talk to Bull till it's over.'

‘All I can do is my best.' Katie felt more cheerful now. ‘I'll try to see him early, before all the pomp and ceremony starts.'

Cook heaved herself out of her chair. ‘Good. We'd better shift our legs now – we've got a lot to do before we can go to bed.'

Later, as Katie lay in her bed, her doubts returned. Rhiannon had seemed so triumphant, so positive that she'd get Bull back. ‘Am I deceiving myself?' she whispered into the darkness.

‘So, Dafydd, it's true that you've taken another mistress?' Jayne gazed at her husband with dislike. ‘I think you might have told me yourself, instead of letting me learn about it from the gossips. Where did you meet her and when?'

‘That is not your business, madam.'

‘I think it is when every servant from here to Cardiff knows about it.'

‘I'll keep up the pretence that I still care for you.'

‘How kind.' Jayne's voice was heavy with sarcasm. ‘And am I to know who she is?'

‘She's younger than you, full of the joys of life, and besotted with me.'

‘A younger woman? So the merry widow could not be tempted?'

‘That is over and done with.'

‘She told me she'd never bother with you again, and Llinos is a woman of her word.' Jayne frowned. ‘It's more than that, though, isn't it? I expect you tried to persuade her but she would have nothing to do with you. You see, Dafydd? We all find out what you're really like. In the future I see you as an embittered old man.'

‘And what about you, Jayne?' Dafydd said. ‘I can take a dozen mistresses if I like and no one would turn a hair – but a respectable woman may not have a lover, may she?'

‘I am aware of that,' Jayne replied. ‘I've only to see how poor Llinos is treated because of you.'

‘So you'll lead the life of a nun, will you?' Dafydd was taunting her, but Jayne smiled.

‘I will live the life of a successful businesswoman who can outshine her husband at every turn. Don't concern yourself about me. If love-making is what you gave me I will never miss it.'

Her barb had struck home for Dafydd blanched. ‘I shall leave you for tonight, my dear wife,' he said. ‘I'll go to the arms of a woman who knows how to love.'

‘And knows how to spend your money, I dare say,' Jayne said. ‘Mistresses don't come cheap – at least, not from what I've overheard of servants' gossip.'

Dafydd turned on his heel and left the room. Jayne felt no regret, only relief that the pretence was over.

She moved to the desk, unlocked the little drawer and took out her share certificates. The paper crackled in her fingers and she smiled. This meant more, far more, than all Dafydd's bedroom fumblings put together.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Llinos had never felt less like going out than she did today. Only a short time ago she had watched her husband laid in his grave and the pain was still sharp, but Sion was looking forward to seeing the train arriving in Swansea for the first time and she could not disappoint him.

‘When is Uncle Eynon coming for us?' He stood in the window, barely able to contain his excitement. ‘And will there be crowds of people on the
Western Princess
?'

‘Is that what the train is called?' Llinos made herself pay attention. ‘You know more than I do about it, Sion.'

‘There he is! Uncle Eynon's here.'

Eynon came into the house. ‘All ready, then? I see our Sion is raring to go.' He stepped closer to Llinos. ‘Have you heard from Lloyd? I know he missed the funeral but I thought he'd be home by now.'

‘Lloyd is living a new life. I think he follows the American Indian belief that his father is gone to a hallowed place and the ceremony of burial as we know it here is not necessary.'

‘Still, I think he should have come, if only to support you.'

Llinos thought so too, but she did not want to be disloyal to her son. ‘You were there, Eynon, and you always are when I need you.'