by Iris Gower
‘Stop there now, Rhiannon.’ There was warning in his voice, but Rhiannon ignored it.
‘She came here.’ She knew she was playing with fire, but the words spilled from her lips. ‘Gave me a message, she did. I was to tell you to keep away from her. She doesn’t want you, Bull. That sort of woman wants a gentleman for a husband.’
‘And what did you say to her?’ He moved away from the door. ‘What did you say?’
‘I didn’t want to hurt you, Bull, but take it from me that girl is not the one for you. She’s little more than a spoiled child.’
Bull was white to the lips and Rhiannon’s anger faded. She had gone too far.
‘Rhiannon, I think it’s about time you found yourself another man.’ His words fell like slivers of ice into her consciousness.
‘No, Bull! I’m sorry, I really am, I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have told you about Katie coming here.’
‘Look,’ he paused, ‘you know I’m going to be promoted to manager, don’t you?’ He tried to speak calmly. ‘I’ll have a proper home soon.’ He took her hand. ‘I don’t want to hurt you but I might as well tell you straight that you have no place in my life any more.’
‘Don’t say that, Bull, please don’t say that! I love you so much that it’s like a pain inside my heart. I need you, Bull, I can’t go back to the life I lived before, you know I can’t.’
‘That’s up to you, Rhiannon,’ he said. ‘You can stay in this hut for as long as you need and perhaps, later, I could find you a position in one of the big houses.’
‘I don’t want to skivvy for the rich women of the town. Scrubbing floors and curtseying to the gentry is not my idea of living.’
‘Well, as I said, that’s up to you. I can’t be held responsible for the way you choose to run your life.’
‘But, Bull, haven’t I been good to you? I’ve washed your clothes and cooked your food and lived at the side of the track for a long time and never complained. I love you, Bull, more than Katie could ever love you.’
‘Tell me, Rhiannon,’ Bull said quietly, ‘what did Katie really want when she came to see me?’
‘Oh, go and ask her!’ Rhiannon turned away, her face in her hands. Bull knew then that she had been keeping something from him.
‘I intend to.’ He opened the door and the chilly evening air rushed into the hut. Rhiannon hurried across the room in time to see him striding away in the direction of the town. ‘Bull, will you be back tonight?’ she called, but her words were carried away on the wind.
Jayne was worried. She thought that by now she should have conceived Dafydd’s child. She was beginning to wonder if there was anything wrong with her. She had spoken to her doctor, but old George Sullivan had only told her to be patient and let nature take its course. But nature was not taking its course: it seemed to need a helping hand.
She could always go to see Mrs Keen, the midwife. She had brought many babies into the world, and it was said she had helped some to slip out, too. Any disfigured or damaged child was quietly smothered at birth. At least, that’s what Jayne had heard.
Apart from being the local midwife, Mrs Keen was something of a sage. She would give medicine to those who needed it. But how discreet was she? Jayne wouldn’t like everyone gossiping about her. No, she could not lay herself open to gossip of that sort. But early the next day, Jayne found herself riding her pony away from the western part of the town and towards Fennel Court where Mrs Keen lived.
If the old woman was impressed by Jayne’s good clothes and air of good breeding she did not show it. Jayne glanced around the tiny house and noted that while it was sparsely furnished it was spotlessly clean. That cheered her a little.
‘Sit down, ma’am,’ Mrs Keen said politely, ‘and tell me what ails you. Perhaps I’ll be able to help.’
‘I’m not sick,’ Jayne said diffidently. ‘It’s just that I’ve been married for a while now and I would dearly like to have a baby.’ There. The words were out.
Mrs Keen nodded. ‘Well, I have to ask if your husband is vigorous in the bedchamber, ma’am. I’m sorry to be so personal but it is important.’
‘He’s like most husbands.’ Jayne heard a touch of bitterness in her voice. ‘He comes to me when he’s ready and not before.’
‘As you say, that’s what most husbands are like. So there’s no problems, then?’
‘Not real problems, only the everyday ones that confront a married woman.’ Jayne had no intention of going into detail.
‘Very well,’ Mrs Keen said. ‘I can give you something to take that will make you relax while your husband . . . Well, you know, and then you might just catch for a baby.’ She was about to speak again when someone knocked at the door. She got to her feet. ‘Excuse me, I won’t be a minute.’
Jayne shrank back into her seat as the old woman opened the door. She didn’t want to be seen.
‘Can I come in, Mrs Keen?’ The voice was familiar and Jayne sat up to listen intently.
‘I got company now, Shanni,’ Mrs Keen said, ‘but are you feeling better? You still look a little pale. Why don’t you come back later and I can give you something for your blood. Slipping a baby always takes it out of you.’
Jayne muffled an exclamation of shock. Shanni Morgan had been expecting a baby and Mrs Keen had helped her to lose it? But why? Shanni was a respectable married woman and there was no reason on earth why she should not have children. Unless . . . unless the child had not been her husband’s.
‘I’m feeling awful poorly, Mrs Keen,’ Shanni said, and Jayne noticed that she had slipped back into the language of Fennel Court.
‘Well, that will teach you not to go with the gentry,’ Mrs Keen said. ‘They don’t care where they sow their seeds as long as they get their satisfaction.’
So Shanni had slept with a gentleman, but what man of breeding would sleep with the likes of her? A dreadful thought came to her. The one man Shanni saw day in and day out was Dafydd.
Jayne got up from her chair so abruptly that it tipped over and crashed to the hard flags. She pulled the door wide open, her fury mounting. ‘Shanni Morgan, you’ve been with my husband! Admit it, you slut!’ She slapped the girl hard across the face. ‘Go on, tell me the truth! It was Dafydd’s baby you were carrying, wasn’t it?’
Mrs Keen ushered them back into the room and closed the door. ‘Calm down, ladies, don’t let the whole of Fennel Court know your business!’
‘I don’t care who knows the truth!’ Shanni was as angry as Jayne. ‘And I admit it! I bedded your husband.’ Her face was white except for the red marks left by Jayne’s hand. ‘If you’re not woman enough for him, then you’re the one to blame for it, not me.’
Jayne felt faint with shock: even as she had flung out her accusation she had hoped Shanni would deny it.
‘When did this happen?’ she asked dully. ‘Tell me, Shanni, I have to know.’
‘It was only once.’ The words came out like a sigh. ‘I was at the office late and Dafydd came in.’ She looked up defiantly. ‘I think he was bored with all the domesticity you heaped on him.’
Jayne was too upset for anger now. ‘And he slept with you and you caught for a baby?’
‘Yes.’ Shanni’s reply was brief and to the point.
‘How do you know it was his child? Couldn’t it have been your husband’s?’ She was trying to come to terms with the knowledge that Dafydd had been unfaithful, but it was all like a bad dream.
‘My husband was away,’ Shanni said, her hostility fading. ‘That’s why I was at the office so late. I was lonely for him.’
‘So lonely that you took another woman’s husband?’ Jayne said bitterly.
‘I always thought I was in love with Dafydd. I realize now it was only a dream. It was the idea of him I loved, not the man.’
‘And your husband knows about this, does he?’ Jayne asked. ‘Or would you like me to be the one to tell him?’
Mrs Keen had remained silent but she came forward now and
shook her head. ‘Don’t do that, ma’am. Don’t make the boy as unhappy as you are. He doesn’t deserve it.’
‘And I don’t deserve it either!’ Jayne said sharply. ‘I came here to ask for help because I wanted a baby, and I find this slut getting rid of my husband’s child.’ Suddenly she was weary. ‘I’d better go home and think about all this.’ She brushed the creases from her skirt absentmindedly. ‘It’s pointless trying for a baby now that my life is in ruins.’
‘Jayne,’ Shanni said quietly, ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have blurted all that out the way I did. I’m sorry for what I did, and I’m even more sorry that you had to know.’ She pushed back her red hair. ‘If you want to tell Pedr the truth I can’t stop you, and perhaps I would even be relieved to have it all out in the open.’
Out in the open? That was the last thing Jayne wanted. She could imagine the sniggers, the hands over the mouths as people gossiped about her and laughed.
‘I suggest that what’s been said in this room remains a secret between us three,’ she said at last. ‘I’m not being noble and thinking of your husband, I’m protecting myself.’
She left the house and untethered her pony, swung up into the saddle and guided it out of the mean streets and onto the main road into town.
When she reached home Dafydd was there. He barely looked at her as she swept into the drawing room. He was pouring himself a glass of fine wine.
‘Had a nice morning, Jayne?’ he asked. ‘Been buying yet more fripperies?’
‘No,’ she said, in a low voice. ‘I’ve just been talking to your mistress.’
He looked up at her sharply then. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘If you’re harping on about Llinos again let me assure you—’
Jayne cut him off mid-sentence. ‘I’m talking about your latest conquest, Shanni Morgan.’
‘You’re talking rubbish! Go and bathe, Jayne. You smell of horse.’ He turned his back on her. Infuriated, Jayne swung him round and slapped his face as hard as she could. ‘Don’t you dare turn your back on me! I’m not the one who’s done wrong. Look at you – just look at you! You’ll lie with any whore. I should have listened to my father when he warned me against you.’
‘Don’t I wish you’d listened to him too?’ Dafydd drank the wine in one gulp and poured more. ‘How dare you come here and accuse me? Where’s your proof?’
‘Shanni Morgan admitted everything.’
‘So you’d believe the girl you call a slut rather than me, is that it?’
‘I was down at Fennel Court,’ Jayne said wearily. ‘I was asking the midwife to give me something to help me conceive your child. Isn’t that amusing?’ she said bitterly. ‘Shanni came to the door. She didn’t know I was there and I overheard her talking to the old woman.’ She looked up at Dafydd then. ‘Has it sunk in yet? She was having your baby, Dafydd!’ Jayne’s voice was filled with anguish. ‘She’s got rid of it, while I’m longing for a child.’
Dafydd was shaken. ‘How would she know the child was mine?’ He spoke guardedly. ‘She’s married to Pedr Morgan, you know.’
‘Yes, but he was away when you took his wife. The poor man doesn’t know he’s a cuckold.’
‘Is this the truth, Jayne?’
‘Would you know the truth if it smacked you in the face?’ She got to her feet. ‘I don’t want you to ever come to my bed again, Dafydd, do you understand?’
‘You are my wife and you will do as I say,’ he replied. ‘I need heirs and you are going to give them to me.’
‘No,’ Jayne said, ‘I am not. And now I am going upstairs to bathe and get rid of the stink of horse. We don’t want the smell to offend my so-particular husband, do we?’
Lunch was served as usual in the dining room and Jayne sat opposite Dafydd, scarcely able to look at him. She would keep the pretence of a marriage if only to save herself embarrassment and ridicule. If people knew the truth she would be branded as the woman who could not keep her man and she couldn’t bear that.
He tried to talk to her but she responded only when the servants were clearing away. Once alone with him she fell silent, determined to ignore him.
‘Jayne, we have to live together. Please don’t keep this up – it’s simply too tiresome for words.’
She gave him a steely look. ‘Oh, listen to the poor hard-done-by husband! I suppose making love to that slut was a diversion for you, a relief from my “tiresome” company. And you even made her with child – that I can’t forgive.’
‘How can you be so sure it was my child Shanni was expecting?’
‘I told you, I was there when she said so.’ She stared directly at him. ‘How could you, Dafydd, with a woman of the lower orders?’
‘Oh, that’s important to you, isn’t it, Jayne? I stooped below your exalted image of yourself and slept with an honest working-woman. When did you ever do a day’s work, Jayne? You’re a spoiled, ignorant girl, with less intelligence than the average hound.’
‘You can be as insulting as you like.’ Jayne threw down her napkin and stood up. ‘But I have more intelligence than you give me credit for.’
‘Really? Well, I’ve yet to see evidence of it.’
‘Listen to this, then, Dafydd Buchan! I’ve acquired a great many shares in the Great Western Railway Company and that’s more than you could achieve, isn’t it?’
‘You’re lying.’
‘Am I? Go and talk to Jason Prentice at the bank, if you don’t believe me.’ She stared at him, hating him. ‘I’ve been one step ahead of you all along the way, can’t you see that? Your big mistake was to underestimate me. You’re nothing but a bigoted fool.’
He moved swiftly and caught her arm. ‘How dare you go behind my back and get shares in the railway? Have you forgotten I’m your husband?’
She shook off his hand. ‘Don’t manhandle me, Dafydd. I’m not some back-street whore.’
‘It was your duty to include me in any deals you made, but I suppose your powerful father helped you, did he?’
‘Can’t you understand that I have a mind of my own, Dafydd? You might have married a girl but now I’m a woman.’
‘And, as I told you, you are still my wife. Kindly remember that.’
‘That’s rich, coming from you! Perhaps you are the one who should remember their marriage vows, not me.’
‘Men take mistresses all the time. You’ve told me you’re a woman so now behave like one.’
‘But poor little Shanni wasn’t even given the “honour” of being your mistress, was she? She was just a plaything when you were bored.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, forget that – this business of the railway is far more important. We could have doubled the amount of shares we owned if you had let me in on the deal.’
‘You’re the one being dense now, Dafydd,’ Jayne said. ‘I bought all the shares that were up for sale. You are to blame, not I, if you were left out of it.’
‘You vixen!’ For a moment he looked as though he would strike her, then he turned away.
‘Before you leave the room let me make something clear to you. I’ll never let you near me again now you’ve been with that – that harlot!’
‘We’ll see about that.’
He looked as if he was about to start arguing again, but Jayne spoke up quickly. ‘I’m going to lie down, and if you even think of coming to my room I’ll tell the whole world what you’ve been up to with Shanni Morgan, starting with Llinos Mainwaring. Now, wouldn’t she be thrilled to hear such news?’
‘So you’d wash your dirty linen in public? That’s not like you, Jayne.’
‘Well, as I said, I’ve changed, and the price of my discretion is that you keep away from me. I don’t want you to touch me ever again. Do you understand?’
‘Go to hell!’ His face was red with anger.
Jayne brushed past him and hurried up the stairs. Once in her room she fell onto the bed. She had won some sort of victory but it was an empty one.
Her marriage was over before it had had a chance to begin. She turned her face into the pillow and cried as if her heart would break.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘Katie, girl, why don’t you stop moping about the place? I thought you were going out today to see Shanni.’
Katie looked up at Mrs Grinter and made an effort to smile. ‘You’re right. It’s my day off and I shouldn’t be sitting here wasting my life.’ She got up from her chair.
‘Aye, it’s your day off again!’ Cook grinned. ‘You have more days off than anyone I know. Still, it’s a lovely spring day, the sun is shining and a young girl like you should be glad to be alive. Just forget that Bull Beynon and enjoy being young and healthy. Me, now, I have the bone-ache in every part of my body.’
‘Oh, Cook, can I get you anything?’
‘No, it’s all right, love. I got my own remedy.’ She winked and took a bottle of brandy from under the table. ‘Couple of these and I won’t be aching so much. Now, go on with you. See your friend Shanni and get out from under my feet, girl!’
‘I’ll get my coat and then I’ll be off.’ Katie picked up the basket Cook had loaded with good things for the invalid.
‘Give Shanni my best, mind.’ Cook eyed the basket. ‘Tell her I baked her a Teision lap cake special.’
As Katie left the house she heard the birds singing and felt the soft breeze against her face, and knew that Cook had been right. It was time she put Bull Beynon out of her mind. She hadn’t seen him for several days now and it seemed that he had made his choice between Rhiannon and her.
As she reached the top of the hill Katie paused, noticing how pretty Shanni’s house looked in the sunlight. The windows were shining and the flowers were blooming in the little garden.
When she knocked and pushed open the door she was pleased to see Shanni sitting at the table peeling potatoes. ‘You’re looking much better today, Shanni. You’ve got more colour in your cheeks.’ She put the basket on the table. ‘Some goodies from Cook. She’s a funny old woman but she’s got a heart of gold.’
‘That’s very kind of her. Tell her thank you from me. Though I expect she’s gossiping about me like everyone else in Swansea.’
