Paradise Park (12 page)

‘Will you excuse me for just a moment?' Rhiannon said quietly. ‘I need to go to the ladies' room.'

Rhiannon spoke very well, Jayne realized, with some surprise – she was not like a girl from the streets.

‘That's all right, Rhiannon. Take your time,' Jayne said, lifting her eyebrow meaningfully. She could count on Rhiannon to be tactful enough to leave them alone for a little while. Rhiannon saw more than anyone gave her credit for.

‘Jayne,' Guy said urgently when Rhiannon had gone, ‘I wish I could take you away from here.'

Jayne felt as if the room was suddenly full of flowers, of birds singing sweetly and angel harps playing golden music. She shouldn't listen to Guy's words, wonderful though they made her feel: she was a married woman and nothing would ever change that. ‘Guy, I feel the same about you but it's impossible, you know it is.' She felt his hand reach for hers beneath the table and as her fingers curled in his a warmth ran through her. ‘What a pity I didn't meet you before I married Dafydd,' she murmured.

‘Say you'll meet me alone, Jayne. I can't bear to sit so near you and not take you into my arms.'

‘But, Guy, how could we arrange that? It would be impossible.'

‘Maybe not,' Guy said. ‘Dafydd is going away for a few days on business, isn't he?'

‘That's the first I've heard of it,' Jayne said tersely, ‘but, then, Dafydd and I stopped talking to each other a long time ago.'

‘You could take a trip – into the country, perhaps, to see a sick aunt. Make any excuse and I will book us into a coaching inn as man and wife.'

‘I wouldn't dare,' Jayne said. ‘I'm not brave enough to flout convention like that.'

‘No one need ever know,' Guy coaxed. ‘Please, Jayne, how can I live my life if I'm never to possess you?'

‘But it's so dangerous, Guy. What if I did come away with you and I conceived a child? Dafydd would know right away it wasn't his – and so would half of Swansea.'

‘That would never happen, Jayne. I can't have children.' Guy squeezed her hand. ‘I have had three mistresses and one wife, whom I lost to the cholera, and none of them conceived my child. Please, Jayne, I have never felt like this about any of the other women in my life. By day you are in my thoughts, and by night you torment my dreams. I'll die if I can't have you.'

‘But would a few days together be enough for us, Guy?' Jayne asked. ‘It would be like offering a child a sweet then snatching it away. No, I can't do it, it's impossible.'

‘Don't say that. Just tell me you'll think about it – please, Jayne, I'm begging you.'

Jayne saw Rhiannon threading her way back through the tables towards her. ‘I'll think about it. Now, change the subject, please.'

Rhiannon seated herself at the table and Jayne looked at Guy. ‘We were talking about the shares, Guy, do you wish to acquire some for yourself?'

‘I wouldn't mind a few, just for the fun of seeing them rise.' He shrugged. ‘I don't need to bother with them, though. I've enough irons in the fire in London.'

‘I could give you a few of my shares if you were really keen.' Jayne felt she'd give him the world, if it would please him.

‘Don't even think about it. You have a good investment there and you should keep it.'

‘No, really, Guy, I would like you to have some. We'd be able to compare notes on how they performed.'

‘We'll see.' Guy smiled. ‘Now, I hope you ladies will forgive me but I must go. I have a meeting to attend.'

Jayne got to her feet at once. ‘It's time I was getting back too. The nights are so cold and dark at this time of year.' She felt a great sense of disappointment: she could have stayed and talked with Guy all night but he was a businessman and had work to do. She was lucky that he had spared as much time for her as he had.

As she sat in the carriage on the way home Jayne's thoughts were on Guy; if he took some of her shares she would have a good excuse to meet him and they would have an interest in common.

‘What do you make of him, Rhiannon? Mr Fairchild, I mean.' Somehow Jayne wanted to know what Rhiannon thought – the girl must be a good judge of men.

‘I think he's a very clever man,' Rhiannon said. ‘He's handsome, too. He's keen on business and ruthless where his finances are concerned.'

‘Are you saying you don't trust him?' Jayne forced herself to speak calmly: she mustn't let anyone know how she felt about Guy.

‘I'm not saying that,' Rhiannon said quickly, ‘and to be fair to him he is very taken with you.'

Jayne felt a thrill at Rhiannon's words. ‘Do you really think so?'

‘I know it's not my place to say so but I think he's falling in love with you. Take that business about your shares.'

‘What about them?'

‘I realize that these railway shares are very much in demand, yet when you offered to let him have some he advised you to keep them for yourself.'

‘Yes, he did, didn't he?' Jayne subsided in her seat and closed her eyes. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts, to consider the possibility that Guy might be in love with her. Surely a woman like Rhiannon, who had known so many men, would see through a mere flatterer?

Guy – in love with her! It was a wonderful dream. She sighed happily, and made plans to see him again soon.

‘You're doing well, girl.' Mrs Jones was seated at the table, her plump hands idle for once. ‘I never thought when you came here that you'd go up in the world quite so soon but
chwarae teg
, fair play, we've never run out of anything since you took over as housekeeper.'

Rhiannon smiled. ‘Nice of you to say so, Mrs Jones. I take my duties very seriously. You never know where all this training will lead.'

‘And what about me?' Sal was perched on a chair, her bare feet swinging inches above the slate floor. Now that she had shoes, she couldn't wait to get them off her feet. ‘I'm doing well, too!'

‘You are,
cariad
,' Mrs Jones said indulgently, ‘and you should be glad the mistress don't care much for menservants or you wouldn't be allowed anywhere near the dining-table.'

Sal glowed. ‘I like being here. It beats walking the streets and waiting for a customer to come along, especially on these cold dark nights.'

Mrs Jones tutted. ‘Don't speak of that, Sal. You're a respectable girl now and you should behave like one.'

‘Well, I do,' Sal said quickly, ‘but I can't forget what happened to me in the past, can I?'

‘You must forget it if you mean to get on, girl.' The cook tapped Sal's arm. ‘Now, pour us some of that tea before it gets cold – and get your shoes on. You look like a street urchin.'

Reluctantly, Sal slipped them on. ‘All right. Cook, I'll keep my shoes on just to please you.' She reached for the teapot and filled the cups.

‘So, Rhiannon,' the cook said, ‘what went on this afternoon with Madam? Why did she take you to town with her? Buying new clothes, was she?'

‘She had some business to attend to and then she took me for tea in the Mackworth Hotel. Really posh it was.'

Mrs Jones, as Rhiannon had expected, was distracted by the idea of her sitting in an elegant hotel drinking tea like the gentry.

‘What was it like? Come on, tell us everything about it.' Mrs Jones put her plump elbows on the table and supported her several chins in her hands.

‘Well, the carpet was so thick you couldn't hear your footsteps at all,' Rhiannon said. ‘And the china, well, it was almost as good as the china the mistress has us bring out for her guests.'

‘And who else was there?' Mrs Jones asked. ‘Did you see anybody important?'

‘I wouldn't know who
was
important,' Rhiannon said. ‘I just sat still and let the others talk.' As soon as the words were out she knew she'd made a mistake.

‘Others? What others?' Mrs Jones asked, a frown furrowing her brow. ‘You didn't mention there were other people with Madam.'

‘Oh, that gentleman, Mr Fairchild,' she said vaguely. ‘He only stopped to pay his respects and then the mistress and I came home.'

‘I knew he was sweet on her,' Mrs Jones said. ‘I can't understand why Mr Buchan doesn't say something. You'd almost think he was throwing the pair of them together. He must be cooking something up or he would be playing merry hell at his wife being seen in public with another man.'

‘But it was only for a few minutes and I was there,' Rhiannon said. ‘No one could talk about a public meeting like that, could they?'

The cook shook her head. ‘I don't know about that. The Mackworth was where Mr Buchan used to take Mrs Mainwaring and we all know how
that
turned out.'

‘I don't,' Sal said. ‘What happened?'

Mrs Jones glanced over her shoulder but the other maids were in the scullery out of earshot. ‘Well, she had a child by him, a by-blow.'

‘Oh, so the gentry aren't much better than the likes of me, are they?' Sal said. ‘What did her husband think about it?'

Mrs Jones shrugged. ‘Well, seems he'd been straying after another woman so I suppose it was tit for tat. Anyway, he put up with it and was good to the boy into the bargain.'

‘Where's the kid now?' Sal asked.

‘At some posh school, so I heard.' The cook struggled to her feet. ‘Right, let's get things ready for the morning and then we can all go to bed. Vi and Hetty can damp down the fires and set them ready for tomorrow.'

It was an hour later when Rhiannon climbed into her bed. Sal scrambled into hers and snuggled down under the blankets, head and all, trying to get warm. A moment or two later she peeped out. ‘Is Mrs Buchan going to take this Guy character for a lover, do you think?'

‘I don't know, Sal. And now we'd best get some sleep. It's going to be another long day of hard work tomorrow.'

Rhiannon snuffed the candle and pulled the bedclothes up to her chin. A thin sliver of moonlight cut a pathway through the dark and she sighed, thinking of the nights she'd spent in the old ramshackle hut with Bull. Folk might think she was doing well for herself, housekeeper in a large establishment, but Rhiannon would have given it all up for a night alone with Bull Beynon.

‘HOW FAR HAVE
you got with my dear wife, Guy?' Dafydd Buchan took a sip of the fine brandy served at Carrington's gentlemen's club and gazed at the other man. His friend had managed to charm Jayne, that much was obvious, but he seemed increasingly reluctant to talk about it. ‘Come on, man, has she said she'll part with any of the shares?'

‘She offered me some the other day when I met her at the tea-rooms,' Guy told him flatly.

‘And?' Dafydd felt like hitting him: he was procrastinating deliberately. Was it possible he wanted the shares for himself? ‘Did you agree to take them?'

‘I thought it best to wait until she knew me better.' Guy held up his glass and the waiter hurried to refill it.

‘Why wait at all?' Dafydd asked. ‘Look, Guy, I hope you're not playing me false.'

A strange expression crossed Guy's face. ‘I'm sure I don't know what you mean. All the time I was with your wife Mrs Beynon was there to chaperone her. Does your wife always take her housekeeper out to tea? I would have thought one of the lesser maids would do just as well.'

‘Don't change the subject.' Dafydd was impatient. ‘I don't mean to suggest you have designs on my wife but I'm wondering if you've an urge to buy into the Great Western yourself.'

Guy relaxed visibly. ‘Good Lord, no!' he said. ‘I haven't the least interest in the Great Western. And if you're worried about your wife's reputation there is no need – we are never seen alone together in public.' He paused. ‘I must say you have a very beautiful housekeeper, Dafydd. It's a wonder your roving eye hasn't lighted on her.'

Dafydd smiled. So Guy, too, had noticed Rhiannon's looks – but who could miss such sensuality and the knowledge of men that lurked in her eyes? ‘Oh, don't worry, I have plans for sweet Rhiannon.' Dafydd leaned back in his chair. ‘I thought I might amuse myself by taking her to my bed. She'd be a damned sight more satisfying than my dear wife ever was.'

‘You don't
really
want to make a mistress of a mere servant?' Guy asked. ‘In any case, you'd ruin the poor girl's chance of making a good marriage.'

Dafydd frowned. Guy didn't know what Rhiannon had been before she came to work for Jayne. Perhaps he would keep the truth to himself for now. He wanted the first chance with Rhiannon: she'd be desperate for carnal love by now – she'd not been with a man for many a month. The thought excited him. ‘So, tell me, then, Guy, why is this plan taking so long to bear fruit? I thought you'd have the shares by now. Don't tell me your powers of persuasion are waning?'

‘Be patient. I thought I'd play a waiting game to make sure of Jayne's trust. If I seem too eager she'll smell a rat. She's an intelligent young woman.'

‘Maybe you're right, but I wish you'd get on with it. I'm getting tired of waiting.'

‘Impatience is the way to failure. You hook your fish first and then you reel her in. Take things slowly, and you might well get what you want.'

‘That's easy for you to say but those shares are going up day by day. It galls me to think of Jayne and her precious father crowing over me because they're in on it and I'm not.'

‘I'm doing my best,' Guy said. ‘I know she likes me, but how much? Enough to trust me to do the best for her?'

Dafydd held up his glass and a waiter appeared and refilled it with brandy. He scarcely acknowledged the man before he returned to his questioning. ‘How long do you think it will be before you have something to offer me? For heaven's sake, man, move yourself!'