by Rosie Harris
Her heart thudded until she thought it would burst with expanding joy as she moved towards him. Her fur-trimmed, white kid slippers seemed to skim over the red carpet.
The strain melted from his face the moment he saw her and she felt an overpowering surge of love and optimism as their eyes met. Whatever the future might hold she was confident that their love for each other would transcend any differences of opinion.
Tudor ap Owen, now fully recovered from his heart attack, stood at his son’s side, straight-backed, autocratic, tight-lipped. His white beard stabbed the air, his sharp gaze missing nothing.
As they took their vows, the enormity of the step she was taking impressed itself on Kate. As her hands were joined to David’s she felt a glow of supreme happiness. When they entered their names in the register and handed the quill to Tudor ap Owen to add his signature as witness to their marriage, Kate had an inner conviction that she was fulfilling a pre-ordained destiny that was part of some greater scheme.
Solicitously, David placed a cream fur cape around her shoulders as they left the church and settled themselves in the open landau that was to take them back to Llwynowen for the wedding breakfast. She smiled up at him, grateful for the cape’s warmth. Winter’s bite was in the stiff wind that made the ladies hold on protectively to their feather-bedecked hats.
It would have been more sensible to have used a closed carriage for the three-mile drive but if they had done so then those who lined the road would have barely caught a glimpse of the owner’s son and his new wife.
Men, women and children, shivering in the keen December cold, doffed their caps, bowed or curtsied, their dark eyes devouring the splendour as Kate and David drove past followed by the rest of the wedding party resplendent in their furs and jewellery.
Although the Fforbrecon coalmine had not been completely closed down for the day, most of the workers had been given time off so that they could watch the wedding procession. And afterwards, when Tudor ap Owen’s guests had driven back to Llwynowen, there was to be a grand celebration staged in the town’s main street.
Free ale and a spread of food, more lavish than most of them had ever dreamed about, would be laid out on the tables set up there. Whole hams, a side of beef, meat pies, a truckle of cheese and as much freshly baked bread, butter and pickles as they could eat. A sumptuous feast which they would talk about for many years to come.
Their obvious enjoyment of the occasion delighted Kate. It added to her own pleasure that provision had been made for them all to be able to participate in the celebrations.
Once they left the crowd behind, the coachman whipped the horses to a gallop. With a sigh of contentment, Kate slid her hand into the crook of David’s arm, silently vowing to enjoy herself and put her concern for the workers from her mind, for the rest of the day at any rate.
‘Happy?’ He bent his head and his lips rested fleetingly on hers. His arm slid round her waist, holding her even closer. She relaxed against him and for a brief spell it was as if they were floating through space.
Behind them, Coity Mountain was a sheer white wall, without bush or tree, curving jaggedly across the horizon. To their right the massive outline of Blorenge in its snow-white mantle undulated against the skyline, while away in the distance the conical shape of the Sugar Loaf rose up white and gleaming as though polished for the occasion.
So much white, so much purity, it was hard to believe that hidden below the surface were the black gold seams of coal and veins of metal ore that claimed and maimed so many.
* * *
Back at Llwynowen, as they greeted their guests, Kate felt relieved that she had not insisted on inviting Morag and Iestyn. David was right, they would have felt uncomfortable in such a glittering assembly of owners, country gentlemen, lawyers and judges. For a brief moment she felt lonely and vulnerable, set apart, as if she was merely an onlooker.
The feeling passed as she saw how much Beth and Mary were enjoying the occasion. Both of them had flushed cheeks and shining eyes and in their bridesmaids’ dresses they looked extremely charming. They were her family now, she reminded herself, and she hoped Helen would let them visit her often once she was settled into Llwynowen.
Tudor ap Owen, too, seemed to be deriving pleasure from the proceedings. Seated at the head of the lavishly spread table, his keen eyes missed nothing of what was going on.
He was completely at ease, knowing his authority was undisputed, even though he was surrounded by the most important people in the whole of South Wales. The men deferred to him, the ladies appeared flattered and smiled readily if he spoke to them.
At the end of the celebratory meal, when the enormous wedding cake was brought to the table, he called for silence. Kate smiled up at David and he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze as they waited nervously for Tudor ap Owen to summon them forward to cut the first slice.
Instead he rose to his feet, frowning in a preoccupied manner as he looked round the hushed assembly. Kate felt suddenly apprehensive, then her fears abated as he began to make a speech welcoming her to the family and pronouncing his pleasure in the ceremony that had just taken place.
Suddenly, his voice changed. His tone became harder, his words biting. His eyes momentarily met Kate’s then looked away, his gaze sweeping the room, commanding everyone’s attention.
‘My son’s new wife has a very radical outlook on life,’ he declared, pausing to look round the hushed room as though addressing a public meeting.
‘While I lay on my sick bed she informed me that she doesn’t approve of the way we run things here in South Wales,’ he went on.
There were gasps of astonishment from all around her, and Kate felt her face and neck flush with embarrassment.
‘She condemns the way we treat our workers here in Ebbw Vale. Given a free hand she would insist that all children below the age of twelve years should not be sent to work but attend school so that they can learn to read and write!’
He paused. A titter of laughter slithered around the room.
‘And this is not all! She would have shorter working hours even for men and women! And to compensate them for the loss of earnings this would result in she suggests we increase their wages!’
He held up his hand for silence as another wave of laughter erupted.
‘That is only the beginning. She wants better living accommodation for them. A house for every family, if you please! Orphaned children must not be left to huddle together in the bricked-up archways beneath the tramways but be properly housed and some motherly body, paid for by the company, should be appointed to look after them!
‘She also advocates that pregnant women should not work underground, that they give birth in their own beds, not down on the coal face, and that they spend four weeks at home after the child is born.’
Stroking his white beard, he waited until the guffaws and protests began to die down and then, once more, raised his hand for silence.
‘As a marriage settlement, it was my intention to take David into partnership and to put him in complete charge of Fforbrecon colliery.’ He paused dramatically. ‘Having listened to his new wife’s views, and been warned by my physician to avoid any kind of upset, I am in something of a quandary.’
‘What’s more to the point, you’d soon find yourself bankrupt!’ a voice called out.
As laughter roared out on all sides Kate bristled with anger at the unfairness of the attack. How could David’s father expose her viewpoints so blatantly and with such mockery, she thought resentfully. It was utterly shameful. If he wanted to rescind the promises he’d made to David then surely he could have done it privately, not humiliate them both in front of their wedding guests.
Her face flushed, she sat up very straight, squaring her shoulders, struggling to hold her temper in check, determined to speak out the moment the laughter abated. David’s restraining hand on her arm made her hesitate and the moment passed as Tudor ap Owen resumed speaking.
‘That is a valid point, but one whi
ch I don’t intend to put to the test since, as I have already pointed out, I most certainly am not in a fit state of health to cope with any stress. So, with this in mind, I have decided not to give David a partnership after all.’
Tears of compassion glistened in Kate’s eyes at the thought of how bitter and frustrated David must be feeling. Her hand found his, seeking to reassure him that she understood his disappointment.
‘With my family and closest friends gathered here,’ Tudor ap Owen went on, ‘I thought it an appropriate time to announce my plans for the future.’ He paused, picked up his wine glass and took a few sips.
‘Early in the new year,’ he went on, ‘I intend to start building more houses at Fforbrecon, a step which I am sure will please my new daughter-in-law.’
Kate lowered her eyes, embarrassed by the hum of comment all around her.
‘I also intend to build a school and try out this idea of educating the children. This school, unlike the classes run by the chapels or the Circulating school in Blaenafon, will not just teach them reading and writing but give them a full education. It will be compulsory for all children under the age of twelve years. They can stay on longer if they have any aptitude for learning. David tells me he would rather be a teacher than a coalmaster, so he will be in charge of this new venture, although I have no doubt that Kate will insist on having her say in how things are run.’
For a moment the room swam in front of Kate’s eyes. David was holding her in his arms and kissing her so fervently that she was breathless. Then, as he released her, it seemed to her that everyone in the room was shaking their hands, kissing her on the cheek, patting David’s shoulder and extending their good wishes.
The buzz of conversation all around them was like the roar of the sea in her ears. She couldn’t properly take in what was happening. She wondered whether the excitement of the occasion and the champagne she had been drinking were affecting her senses.
Over the heads her eyes locked with those of Tudor ap Owen. The gleam of understanding that passed between them, as he raised his glass of champagne and smiled at her, filled her with a sense of security and direction. She made her way over to him and she kissed him on both cheeks.
‘I shall expect to see all those radical ideas of yours fulfilled, you know,’ he told her.
‘You will! A school is the most wonderful present you could possibly have given us.’
‘It won’t be easy,’ he warned, gruffly. ‘Many of those who are congratulating you at the moment will oppose the changes when you come to put them into practice.’
‘It will take time and a great deal of hard work, but the lives of the workers and their families will be enriched and Fforbrecon colliery must benefit as a result,’ affirmed David.
‘You’re bound to have some antagonism to your ideas,’ he reminded them again.
‘Once they see it results in greater efficiency, an increase in output because the miners will work harder so that they can earn more and enjoy a better standard of living, they’ll accept it,’ argued Kate confidently.
‘It’s not going to be easy,’ he frowned.
‘I know. Together, David and I will do it, though. You’ll see,’ she promised.
‘Yes, I think perhaps you will,’ Tudor ap Owen agreed. ‘Now, isn’t it time you cut the wedding cake?’
After the toasts came the dancing which lasted late into the night, revelry greater than any that had been witnessed at Llwynowen for many generations.
Next day, David and Kate set out on the first part of their journey to Bramwood Hall. At Helen’s suggestion, they were to spend the first week of their married life there.
‘Make sure you come back in time to celebrate Christmas,’ ordered Tudor ap Owen as they took their leave. ‘I’ve told Helen that she and her family must stay on after Christmas so that we can all be together to usher in the new year.’
1840! A new decade. What changes would it bring? Kate wondered.
She would soon be twenty years old, and for her it would bring a whole new way of life, she thought exultantly.
There would be no more dreaming of the impossible, no more sighing for the moon, but the realization of all her dreams.
She and David would work side by side. They’d take up Tudor ap Owen’s challenge, and establish a school for the children of Fforbrecon. They would help them to understand that there was more to life than grubbing black gold from the earth.
They’d also give Tudor ap Owen the grandson he yearned for. And, by the end of the decade, having fulfilled his personal ambition, David would be ready to accept responsibility for the management of Fforbrecon colliery and the Llwynowen estates; a willing custodian until his own sons were of an age to take his place.
First published in the United Kingdom in 1991 by Sphere under the title Sighing for the Moon and pseudonym Rose Glendower
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2020 by Canelo
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Copyright © Rosie Harris, 1991
The moral right of Rosie Harris to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788639170
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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