The Wild Seed

by Iris Gower

  ‘Catherine came and stayed the night with me and my family,’ Boyo said. ‘We were not alone in the house, I assure you.’ He smiled encouragingly at Catherine.

  ‘So you have not taken her to bed then, is that what you are saying?’

  ‘At least I am not trying to sell her off into a marriage with a stranger.’ Boyo heard the anger in his voice and knew he must control his temper, shouting would get him nowhere.

  ‘It wasn’t like that at all, colleen!’ Jamie looked at Catherine. ‘The Cullens are kinsfolk, I wanted you to meet them, I hoped you’d come to realize that Liam Cullen would be a fine catch.’ He softened a little. ‘But there was no thought of forcing you into anything.’

  ‘You wanted me to go off to Ireland and marry Liam, don’t try to get out of it, Dad.’

  ‘Liam and his family are well set up, a wealthy family; you would have been treated like a queen, given everything you ever wanted. All I was doing was paving the way.’ His voice was gentle. ‘Don’t you know I want the best for you, always?’

  ‘Everything I ever wanted is here in this kitchen.’ She looked meaningfully at Boyo and his heart seemed to melt within him.

  ‘Explain yourself, Catherine! Do you mean to marry this man then?’ Jamie had caught the look, his voice had grown harsh. Fon put the teapot on the table with a thud.

  ‘No need for words, these two are in love with each other,’ she said softly. ‘And isn’t it natural enough; knew each other as children, didn’t they? We can all talk of marriage in good time, no need to rush into anything, is there?’

  ‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ Jamie sank into a chair and ran his hand through his dark curls. ‘Is this the lad you’ve been courting, then, Cath?’

  Catherine hung her head and Jamie leaned over and touched her shoulder. ‘Catherine, answer me.’

  ‘I love him, Dad, I can’t ever love another man, please try to understand.’

  Jamie looked at Boyo, took in his good clothes, his riding crop with the silver top, his good, handmade riding boots. ‘Well, it should have been done right, you should have called to see me before this, discussed matters with me. As to rushing, Fon, my darlin’, it seems these two have been bedded before being wedded and that I do not approve of. Still, it can all be mended, I dare say. And you, Boyo, what do you say about all this?’

  ‘I love Catherine,’ Boyo answered sharply. He was suddenly, tinglingly aware that the Irishman did not know he was married.

  ‘And your prospects?’ Jamie bristled at Boyo’s tone.

  ‘I think you could say that I don’t need prospects, I am already one of the richest men in the county.’ Boyo did not understand why he felt the need to impress Jamie, perhaps it was the patronizing way the older man was looking at him, assessing him.

  ‘Well then, why did you not come calling like a proper suitor?’ Jamie crossed his big arms, the muscles bulging beneath the flannel of his shirt.

  It was pointless prevaricating and Boyo knew it. ‘Because I couldn’t, I’m a married man.’

  ‘Holy Mary Mother of God!’ Jamie crossed himself almost as though he had come up against a devil. He rose to his feet and thumped his fist on the table.

  ‘You fool, Catherine, you have thrown yourself away on a married man, a man who will only use you for his pleasure.’ He stood before his daughter. ‘And you went to his bed like a strumpet, how could you?’

  Catherine lowered her eyes. She didn’t answer but her shoulders began to shake; it was clear she was crying. Boyo hurriedly knelt beside her, his arm around her as though to protect her from her father’s anger.

  ‘So, you have shamed my daughter, taken from her the one thing that would bring her a good match, her innocence.’

  Jamie snatched the crop from Boyo’s hand and raised it high. It swished through the air and then whistled down across Boyo’s back.

  Slowly, Boyo rose to his feet and faced the other man, his expression cold. ‘If you were not Catherine’s father and if I did not have so much regard for this family I would take you apart for what you have just done.’

  Jamie turned away in disgust. ‘Get out of here, the both of you,’ he said, his voice thick.

  ‘No!’ Fon’s voice was thin with fear. ‘No, Jamie, I will not have you to send our daughter away like a leper.’

  ‘She is no longer my daughter,’ Jamie said bitterly. ‘She has made her bed with a married man and if he is as wealthy as he boasts then he is well able to support her and any bastards he might father on her, too.’

  He turned and looked at his wife. ‘She goes, Fon, or I do.’

  Catherine rose to her feet slowly. ‘I’ll go, don’t worry; I wouldn’t stay here now, not in the house where I could be sold to the highest bidder like a piece of meat. Is that your morality, Father? Is that what your faith teaches you, to peddle your daughter’s virginity for the best price you can get?’

  Jamie’s hand lashed out and caught Catherine across her face. She staggered back and Boyo moved swiftly, catching her before she could fall to the ground. He took her up in his arms and stared at her father with cold eyes.

  ‘I could kill you for what you have done today,’ he said slowly.

  ‘And I could kill you, too, you bastard from the work-house,’ Jamie said, his eyes suspiciously bright. ‘Go on, get out of my sight before I take the shotgun to you.’

  As Boyo carried Catherine outside and set her upon the saddle, he could hear Fon crying bitterly. A great sadness came over him; all this, it was so far removed from the wonderful days of the summer when he had come here as a young boy and had fallen in love with April.

  Catherine huddled against him. ‘I’m sorry, Boyo, I never thought it would come to this.’

  ‘Hush, it’s going to be all right, I’ll take care of everything.’ His mind was racing, he would have to take her to a hotel for a few days, just until he could find her a house.

  ‘What do you mean to do with me?’ Her voice was small, uncertain.

  ‘I shall buy you a pretty cottage, with roses around the door,’ he said in an attempt to cheer her; ‘it will have a garden and it shall be near the sea.’

  ‘So I shall be your kept woman, is that it, Boyo?’

  His heart lurched. ‘My love, if I was a free man I would marry you tomorrow. I will tell Bethan I want a divorce, it will be a terrible shock to her, I must try and break it gently, when the time is right. The best I can offer you for now is a home and all my love. Will that be enough for you?’

  She leaned back against his shoulder and sighed as though she was very weary. ‘It will have to be, Boyo, it will have to be.’

  Bethan was relieved when her father had returned home to Ty Craig, the big gaunt house where she had been born. The last few days had been a strain with all of them keeping up the pretence that nothing was wrong.

  Boyo had studiously avoided intimate contact with her and it was only for appearance’s sake that he had shared her bed, she knew that well enough. Passionate response there had never been but, now, his indifference to her was like a huge wall that split the ground between them into a chasm. The moment her father had gone, Boyo had moved to another room without any explanation at all.

  Bethan felt fear grow within her, she wondered if it was best to remain silent, to keep the marriage, from the outside at least, a stable one.

  He was out a great deal but she was used to that. Previously, his absences had not bothered her, but now, suspecting he was with that other woman, every moment apart was torture.

  And then everything changed. Bethan discovered that at thirty-eight years old, she was pregnant with her first child, she must have conceived on the very last night she had slept with her husband. It was ironic.

  It was almost unbelievable. She sat in the big drawing-room and stared unseeingly out of the window. She rested her hand on her stomach and a feeling of peace came over her. Whatever happened, she would always have a part of Boyo to call her own.

  ‘I love it, Boyo, it’s like a drea
m house.’ Catherine clung to his arm as they stood in the sun-splashed kitchen of the house. He had told her he would buy her a cottage but this gabled building was far more than that. It had eleven bedrooms, most of them facing the sea. The living-room ran the length of the house, with one wall almost completely taken up by the huge window. The kitchen where they stood was airy, filled with the most modern of fixtures and fittings, it was a place out of a fairy tale.

  ‘I hope you won’t feel too cut off down here.’ Boyo put his arms around her from the back and drew her against him so that her head rested against his shoulder. ‘I know Caswell is a quiet spot but it’s conveniently placed between Swansea and Rhossili and so lovely, I couldn’t resist it.’

  ‘I love it, I told you that, Boyo, but I would have been happy with you in the smallest cottage. I mean it, you don’t have to buy me fancy things to prove how much you love me, mind.’

  ‘I know.’ He kissed the top of her head. Catherine twisted around so that she was looking up at him.

  ‘I only wish Mam and Dad would come and see me but I don’t think my father will ever forgive me for spoiling his plans.’

  ‘Don’t worry, cochen, I’m here to look after you now.’

  She smiled up at him. ‘Boyo, my love, my sweetheart, my darling, please don’t call me that.’

  ‘Cochen? Why?’

  ‘I don’t know, it sounds impersonal, somehow. Call me Cathie, anything, but use my name.’

  He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Right then, I shall call you Cat because you are like a little kitten.’ He paused and leaned away from her, laughter in his eyes. ‘A little kitten with red fur!’

  She pretended to slap him but he caught her hand and then he was kissing her passionately. She responded to him with joy and abandon and when he lifted her and carried her to the master bedroom with its floral drapes and silken sheets, she sighed softly.

  ‘I love you so much, Boyo Hopkins, I was only half alive until you came back into my life.’

  He slowly undressed her, kissing her eyes, her throat, her breasts, her belly. She shuddered in anticipation, she wanted him inside her, possessing her, setting his seal upon her. But he made her wait, he made her quiver with expectation and excitement. She heard small moans come from her throat and wondered why, so quickly, she’d changed from an untried girl into a passionate woman.

  ‘Please, Boyo, love me, love me now.’

  He came to her then, smoothly, gently taking possession of her. She cried out, clutching at his shoulders, wanting the sensations to go on and on.

  His hands were beneath her, lifting her towards him so that he could possess her more fully. And then a fury began within her, a flame of ecstasy that was almost pain. It shuddered from her toes through her thighs and belly, encompassed her breasts and stole her voice from her. It was a rainbow fragmenting within her, washing her with brightness and colour and joy. She began to cry, tears of release, tears of wonder that such sensation could be hers. He held her close, still within her and they clung together for a long time, their breaths mingling, their limbs entwined.

  At last she stirred and touched his cheek. ‘Boyo, I didn’t know such feelings existed.’ Her voice was little more than a croak. ‘I could never have imagined such … such …’ she stopped, lost for words. He kissed her mouth gently.

  ‘I love you, Cat, never doubt that, never.’

  She closed her eyes, a feeling of drowsiness creeping over her. ‘Boyo, what a wonderful beginning to our new life together,’ she whispered.

  Later, they ate dinner in the small dining-room. It was a meal prepared by Catherine, a simple meal of cold meat and pickles and fresh bread spread with thick salt butter.

  ‘I’m sorry it’s not very much, I’ll have to learn to cook.’ Catherine was apologetic. ‘If it wasn’t for your thoughtfulness there would be no food in the pantry at all.’

  ‘No need for you to learn to cook, Cat, I have advertised for some staff for you, I’ll be interviewing candidates at the beginning of next week.’

  ‘You are so good at taking charge, it’s wonderful to be cared for this way.’

  ‘It’s only what you deserve. In any case, I’m sure that Fon did everything she could for you, spoiled you rotten.’

  ‘Aye, that’s true but I had to work in the fields, mind, help my father whenever I could.’ A shadow fell across her happiness, now Jamie would be working alone. If only her parents had responded differently. Their blessing she did not expect but she was entitled to their understanding, wasn’t she?

  It was growing dark by the time the meal was finished. Boyo rose and lit the lamps, going around the house closing windows, locking doors. With a sinking feeling inside her, Catherine realized he was not staying with her for the night.

  ‘Do you have to go, love?’ She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. He rested his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘It’s only for tonight, I have to prepare Bethan. Now that her father has returned home, I can talk to her about the divorce, that’s what we both want, isn’t it?’

  She held onto his hand. ‘Of course it is, Boyo, but I’m going to miss you so much. You’ll be here tomorrow, won’t you?’

  He smiled and touched her cheek. ‘Try keeping me away.’

  It was silent in the house when he had gone and Catherine wandered around picking up books and ornaments and replacing them almost at once. She sighed, it was so quiet. She moved the curtain aside and looked through the window. The moonlight fell across the sea in a silver pathway and she shivered, she didn’t think she could bear to be alone like this too often.

  She might as well go to bed, at least there she could breathe the scent of him, remember him holding her in his arms, kissing her, loving her, making her aware of her body as she had never been before.

  She crouched beneath the covers, hearing every creak of the boards, every rustle of the trees outside, telling herself it would be better once the staff had been employed. She looked at the empty pillow beside her and somehow she wasn’t convinced.

  ‘You shouldn’t have waited up for me, Bethan.’ Boyo kissed his wife’s cheek feeling like a Judas. ‘I told you I might be late.’

  She regarded him steadily and it was as though she could read his thoughts. She sighed heavily.

  ‘I have something important to say to you.’ She didn’t shift her gaze from his face, not even when he filled his glass with brandy and sat opposite her. The last thing Boyo wanted was for Bethan to be hurt but the sooner he told her his plans the better.

  ‘I want to talk to you, too, Bethan,’ he said slowly. She nodded.

  ‘I know about your little love-nest, there’s no need to tell me, news travels fast, especially gossip of that sort.’ She spoke softly without censure.

  ‘Please, hear me out,’ she said as he made to speak. ‘Then you can have your say.’ She paused as if to gather her strength. ‘I realize that our marriage was not one made in heaven; we married because it suited us, both of us. But you are well aware that I will not, under any circumstances, consider divorce, not now.’

  ‘It is not altogether your decision.’ Boyo felt compelled to return the challenge in her eyes. He noticed that she was very pale, even sweating a little and he was concerned. He made a move to rise to his feet.

  ‘Bethan, can’t we leave all this until the morning? You look very tired.’

  ‘I have waited patiently for you to come home, Boyo,’ Bethan said. ‘I have to speak now, so please, just be quiet and listen to what I have to say.’

  He subsided in his chair and raised his glass to his lips, waiting with a sense of apprehension to hear what was on his wife’s mind. Whatever it was, he had the feeling he was not going to like it.

  ‘You have taken a woman, you have set her up in a house in Caswell, that is a situation which I cannot change and so am prepared to put up with.’ She held up her hand again to stop him speaking.

  ‘That affair is not important, what is important is that you are still my husband and
you will do me the courtesy of being discreet, do you understand?’

  He rose to his feet and stood looking down at her. ‘Bethan, I have a great deal of regard for you, you know that.’ She flinched visibly at his words. ‘I feel a great deal of affection for you,’ he added hastily. ‘But please don’t try to treat me like a recalcitrant schoolboy.’

  ‘You are behaving like one,’ Bethan said, her tone curt. ‘You are running around like a boy who has never had a woman before.’

  ‘I haven’t, not like Catherine.’ He saw her turn away. ‘I’m sorry to hurt you but there is no way to say it other than right out; I love her, Bethan.’

  ‘Love; to a man it is such a transient thing. Well, you might change your mind about your “love” when you hear what I have to say, so please listen. I learned something today that is wonderful news to me and I hope to you, too.’

  ‘What news could that be, Bethan? That your hotel has made you even richer than you are already?’

  ‘I’m going to have our child.’

  At first he thought he couldn’t have heard correctly. ‘But Bethan, you are too …’ The words trailed away but she knew what he had intended to say.

  ‘I am too old? Apparently not.’

  He stared down at her, trying to assimilate this new idea; a child, perhaps a son and heir. He shook his head. ‘You are sure of this, Bethan, it’s not some trick?’

  She looked at him scathingly. ‘Since when have I needed to resort to tricks, Boyo? Just listen to yourself, will you?’

  ‘I’m sorry, that was unnecessary. Do you feel well, are you strong enough to bear a child?’

  She laughed without humour. ‘Well, I’m not a delicate little doll, am I? It seems to me I have no choice in the matter; I am having this child and that’s all there is to it, I’ll have to be strong.’

  He put his head in his hands, he was filled with a confusion of sensations: pride, joy, despair, he didn’t know what to feel. Bethan, sensing something of his dilemma, took pity on him.