by Iris Gower
When Seth had gone Bull picked up the invitation. He would go to the hotel tonight, if only to see that there was no trouble. Carefully, he tucked the invitation into his pocket. He’d be damned if he’d let Frost ruin everything Rhiannon had worked for.
Rhiannon watched the preparations for the evening’s event with a heavy heart. Mrs Paisley was lying in the chapel of rest and she should be here enjoying the moment for which they’d both worked so hard. Nevertheless she had promised to go ahead with the Grand Opening and she meant to keep her word.
In the kitchen, Mrs Jones was organizing everyone with the ease of long practice. The other cooks hired for the occasion were happy to take direction from her and even Violet and Hetty were working with a will.
‘Rhiannon, come and see what we’ve done so far.’ Mrs Jones took her arm. ‘The ballroom looks a treat and I think you’ll be pleased with it.’
Lining the walls of the large room were tables covered in pristine damask cloths, groaning under the weight of the feast. Great hams rested cheek by jowl with platters of venison and beef. A salmon with its head intact but the skin removed to reveal its pink flesh made a colourful display, and huge cheeses stood at each end of the tables.
Rhiannon walked around the room, admiring the dishes of pickled beetroot, thick chutney and a variety of sauces. ‘You’ve done us proud, Mrs Jones,’ she said. ‘I’m only sorry that Mrs Paisley can’t share it all with us.’
Mrs Jones gave her a hug. ‘Don’t you fret. She’s here in spirit, I’d stake my life on it.’ She dabbed at her eyes with a large handkerchief. ‘Well, I can’t stay here grizzling, I’ve got puddings to steam and custard to make.’ She looked critically at Rhiannon. ‘Hadn’t you better go and get ready? You look a sight, if you don’t mind me saying so.’
Rhiannon looked at her crumpled skirt and touched her hair, which was hanging loose on her shoulders, and smiled. ‘You’re right. I must look more like a shanty-town girl than a businesswoman.’ She glanced up at the clock on the wall. ‘I’ll go up to my room.’
‘Just one more thing,’ Cook said. ‘I know tonight’s going to be hard for you without Mrs Paisley here, but you have to put that out of your mind and try to smile.’
Rhiannon swallowed the lump in her throat, and made her way slowly from the ballroom and up the gracious stairs.
The lamps were lit in the foyer and candles shimmered in silver holders along the windowsills. Rhiannon looked around her approvingly, as she stood near the door prepared to welcome her guests.
The servants were ready with trays full of glasses of fine wine, and Rhiannon acknowledged that she had Mrs Jayne Buchan to thank for teaching her how to make a social evening a success. Jayne would not be attending the opening: she had caused a scandal by leaving her husband and running away with another man. But her father, Mr Morton-Edwards, was among the first to arrive with his new wife, and Rhiannon smiled in gratitude. ‘Thank you for coming, Mr and Mrs Morton-Edwards.’ She resisted the urge to bob a curtsy, reminding herself she was no longer a servant but the proprietor of the Paradise Park Hotel. ‘I hope you both enjoy the evening.’
‘I’m sure we will, and may I say how splendid everything looks? You’ve worked wonders here, and I’m half sorry I didn’t buy the place myself now.’ He rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘Well done, Rhiannon, you should be proud of yourself.’
As the couple moved on to mingle with the other guests Rhiannon caught sight of Richard Frost who, strangely, seemed to be avoiding her eyes. She forgot about him then as she welcomed more guests.
When almost everyone had arrived Rhiannon stood near the door feeling alone and vulnerable. None of these people were her friends: her friends were the maids and Mrs Jones, all of whom had worked until they dropped to make the opening the success it was. She knew the people here were merely curious: all they wanted was a good night out with plenty of food and wine. If only Bull would come then perhaps she would feel better.
When she judged that most of the guests had arrived Rhiannon made her way to the dais at one end of the room and held up her hand. ‘I’m not going to make a long speech,’ she said, ‘and I’m sure that will be a relief to you all.’ Her words raised a few smiles and she began to relax. ‘I just want to welcome you all to the Paradise Park. This evening is just a sample of what guests here can expect.’ She paused. ‘Good wine, superb food and warm, welcoming surroundings. Please pass the news on to your friends that the Paradise Park is now officially open for business.’
A scattering of applause greeted her words, and Rhiannon was about to step down when a voice called her name from the back of the room. Rhiannon looked up in surprise to see Richard Frost waving his arms for silence.
‘I don’t think you good people here know what sort of woman she is.’ He gestured towards Rhiannon. ‘She might be dressed in fine clothes but she’s nothing more than a street girl, a shanty-town woman who lived off ignorant navvies. Go on, woman, deny it if you can.’
A hush fell and curious eyes turned in Rhiannon’s direction. She felt her colour rise but she lifted her head proudly. ‘What I used to be is nothing to do with what I am now. At least I’ve learned the error of my ways and tried to make a success of a respectable trade.’
‘Hear, hear!’ Eynon Morton-Edwards stepped forward. ‘This young lady worked for me, and I know that her honesty and integrity are beyond question. Give her a chance to carry on with her respectable business and don’t condemn her. Rather, congratulate her for putting her past behind her.’
Richard wouldn’t be silenced and his voice rose. ‘As well as being a harlot this woman is a gaolbird. How can anyone patronize such a woman and such an establishment? I’m sure you must all be aware that this hotel was once a bawdy-house. Who’s to say it won’t be one again?’
Rhiannon bit her lip. Richard Frost had certainly done his homework. She looked round at the sea of accusing faces, wishing she was anywhere but on the dais in full view of everyone. She just wanted to crawl away into a hole and hide. There seemed nothing she could say in her defence.
Richard Frost hadn’t finished with her yet. ‘She’s a whore and a thief. She has no right to be mingling with respectable folk. She should be drummed out of the town. What sane person could trust her now?’
‘I could.’ Bull’s voice rang out with conviction.
Rhiannon jumped: she hadn’t seen him come into the room.
The crowd parted as he made his way towards her and then he was taking her hand, smiling down at her in the way she loved. Suddenly she felt strong, as though she could face anything with Bull at her side.
He held up his hand for silence. ‘I think most of you here know me for an honest man.’ There were murmurs of assent. ‘I am a magistrate, and I can tell you that Rhiannon was falsely accused of theft. She was, unfortunately, caught up in the quarrel between a certain married couple. She was subsequently released because she was cleared of all charges.’
Bull looked directly at Richard Frost. ‘As for you, Doctor, isn’t it true that Rhiannon gave you work at the hotel, providing you with the sort of living you would not have otherwise enjoyed?’ He didn’t wait for a reply. ‘And that your intention was to ask her to marry you?’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, man,’ Richard Frost blustered. ‘I’m a good doctor and I came to help out at the hotel because I don’t like to see people sick and suffering.’
‘You had no qualms about it once being a bawdy-house then, did you? It was only when Rhiannon rebuffed your advances that you became angry. You were a man rejected, made to look the fool you are.’
‘I – I—’ Richard Frost was suddenly white, his face pinched, as he stared around the room, sensing the crowd’s hostility now. Then he turned and rushed out of the hotel into the night.
‘Now,’ Bull said, ‘before you good people go on to enjoy the rest of the evening I’d like you to give me your attention for a little longer.’
Rhiannon looked up at him as he took
her hand and held it to his lips. ‘Rhiannon, over the past weeks I’ve come to realize how much you mean to me. I know I can’t be happy without you so will you do me the honour of consenting to be my wife?’
Suddenly it was as if the room was full of rainbows, and stars seemed to burst inside her head. She looked into Bull’s eyes, saw the love there, and her breath caught in her throat. Then she was in his arms, sheltered and protected by him in the way she had always wanted to be. For a long moment he held her close and then at arm’s length. ‘Well, Rhiannon?’ His words now were for her alone. ‘I love you and want to marry you. Are you going to give me an answer?’
‘Oh, Bull, if you really want me of course I’ll marry you. I love you so much, I’ve always loved you and . . .’ She fell silent as Bull put a gentle finger over her lips.
‘I know, my darling, there’s no need for any more words.’ He drew her close to him and kissed her hair, and she felt his warmth, and knew that this was meant to be. It was written in the stars that she and Bull were to be together.
It was Eynon Morton-Edwards who started the cheering, then the servants, who had gathered in the doorway, were clapping, shouting congratulations, and soon the whole room was applauding.
Bull took her hand and led her through the crowd of smiling faces and out into the cool of the evening air. She heard the band strike up in the ballroom, saw the lights shining from the hotel windows, and felt that Mrs Paisley was up in the heavens looking down at her in approval.
Rhiannon’s heart was full of joy, love and hope because here, in her arms, was the greatest prize of all: her beloved Bull Beynon. Then everything was blotted out as his lips claimed hers and she lost herself in the wonder of his kiss.
THE END
About the Author
Iris Gower was born in Swansea, where she still lives. The mother of four grown-up children, she has written over twenty bestselling novels. She received an Honorary Fellowship from the University of Wales Swansea in 1999 and was recently awarded an MA in Creative Writing from the University of Cardiff. Paradise Park is the sixth and final novel in her Firebird sequence. The first book in her romantic new series about the cattle drovers, The Rowan Tree, is now available in hardback from Bantam Press.
Also by Iris Gower
THE LOVES OF CATRIN
WHEN NIGHT CLOSES IN
The Sweyn’s Eye Series
COPPER KINGDOM
PROUD MARY
SPINNERS’ WHARF
MORGAN’S WOMAN
FIDDLER’S FERRY
BLACK GOLD
The Cordwainers Series
THE SHOEMAKER’S DAUGHTER
THE OYSTER CATCHERS
HONEY’S FARM
ARIAN
SEA MISTRESS
THE WILD SEED
The Firebird Sequence
FIREBIRD
DREAM CATCHER
SWEET ROSIE
DAUGHTERS OF REBECCA
KINGDOM’S DREAM
PARADISE PARK
The Drovers Series
THE ROWAN TREE
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First published in Great Britain by Bantam Press, an imprint of Transworld Publishers
Bantam Press edition published 2002
Corgi edition published 2003
Copyright © Iris Gower 2002
Iris Gower has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book
is available from the British Library
Version 1.0 Epub ISBN: 9781407094069
ISBN: 9780552144520
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