Firebird (51 page)

Lloyd nodded. ‘Why not? Morton-Edwards has played enough dirty tricks on me to last a lifetime, it's about time I paid him back in the same coin.'

Jim smiled. ‘I wouldn't like to see his stock of clay when the water got to it!'

‘You're a good man, Jim. I won't forget you gave me your help when I most needed it.'

Jim drained his glass. ‘No need for thanks, Captain, you and me go back a long way. I'll be off now and do a bit of reckoning on the tides.'

When he was alone, Lloyd returned to his spot before the window. The bottle kilns of both potteries were almost side by side but the Tawe Pottery, as Jim had pointed out, was on slightly lower land.

Lloyd looked up at the leaden skies; there was rain up there for sure. It could be the elements were on his side for once. He puffed on his pipe and sat back in his chair. Perhaps he was not so useless after all. He could still think, he had his brain, didn't he? He could still reckon up the accounts, order materials, make out bills of sale. Sometimes he forgot things, sure, but a good manager would cover for him.

The Savage Pottery would survive, china would be produced once more, the ovens would be fired for baking, the yard would throng with workers. He raised his fist.

‘You will not beat me after all, Morton-Edwards,' he said softly.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Georgina sat in the window staring out into the garden. She was well pleased with herself as she recalled her husband's triumphant return home.

She had greeted him in the hall with arms outstretched, clinging to him, very much aware that he looked every minute of his fifty-five years. She pressed her lips close to his, closing her eyes, trying to force some warmth into her embrace. After a moment, she had drawn away from him.

After his journey, he had rested himself in bed for a whole day and now she waited anxiously for him to speak. She caught his arm.

‘Come, darling, tell me all that's happened.' Her tone was genuinely enthusiastic.

Philip led the way into the sitting-room and nodded abstractedly towards Mrs Sanders. ‘Afternoon, Catherine, have you been looking after my affairs while I've been away?'

She nodded, ascertaining that he required no answer, and he sank down into a chair and rubbed his hand through his greying hair so that it stood on end. He looked like some absurd wild man and Georgina sat opposite him trying not to look too closely at the lines that seemed to have deepened in his face in his short absence from home.

The taunts Llinos Savage had flung at her seemed to be graphically illustrated in her husband's aged appearance. She thought of the half-breed Llinos had boasted about. He was tall, handsome and very rich. Indeed, her own lot was not, in comparison, such a wonderful one. Still, Philip could not last long. Soon, she would be free of him and free of his brat of a son, too.

‘Did you achieve anything?' she urged, irritated by Philip's slowness to volunteer information.

‘I did.' He had taken a folded paper from his pocket. ‘This was signed and witnessed before a notary.' He smiled and something of the handsome man he must have once been flashed into his face. ‘It testifies that my first wife deceived me, she was barren just like my second wife.' He sounded bitter. ‘She took a child from the lower orders, from a family by the name of Cowper, and foisted him on me as my own.'

Philip spoke so convincingly that, for a moment, Georgina almost believed she was hearing the truth. But of course, it was all lies, a plot to throw Eynon out of the nest. Still, so long as Philip continued to be convincing, his story would be believed.

He held out the document and she took it with trembling fingers. It looked official enough, Philip must have offered the Cowpers a very large bribe indeed, enough to make their story believable in the eyes of the law.

‘Excellent.' She handed it back to him, gleefully anticipating the moment when she would tell Eynon the news. She would not be able to restrain herself for very long.

She rode out that very evening, seated in the carriage with her godmother at her side.

‘We'll show that brat of Philip's just where he stands, God-Mamma.' She spoke with satisfaction.

‘What if it's true?' Catherine said so softly that, for a moment, Georgina wondered if she had heard correctly.

‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean it's very strange that you are Philip's third wife and still there is no other child but Eynon. Could Philip be the barren one, do you think?'

Georgina laughed out loud, clinging to the door handle as the carriage bumped over the stony ground.

‘That's wonderful!' she said. ‘Do you know, God-Mamma, I think you just could have hit the nail on the head.' She righted her bonnet.

‘Well, if that is so, I shall make sure I get with child by some other man before much longer. And I think I will enjoy the experience, Philip is too old by far for me.'

It was at the door of his house that Georgina confronted Eynon. His servant had gone to announce her and instead of being invited in as she had expected, Eynon had come out to her, making it obvious she was not welcome. She did not mince her words.

‘You are a bastard.' She spoke loudly enough for the servants within the house to hear what she was saying.

‘Philip has come home from England with proof that your mother was barren. You are a changeling, foisted on Philip. I always knew there was something strange about you.' She laughed. ‘Now I understand what it is. You are from the lower orders, Eynon, what do you think of that?'

‘I don't believe you.' Eynon had become very pale. He leaned against the porch of his house and stared down at her with eyes that were shadowed.

‘Well, it's true. The proof is with your father's lawyer right now.'

‘With Timothy Beresford?' He could hardly speak; she knew she had shocked him and she meant to thrust the barb deeper.

‘I don't know how much your so-called mother's family left you, Eynon, but whatever it is you will have to forfeit it. Perhaps you should try to make a good marriage before it is too late, before the whole world knows about your origins.'

He stared at her with something almost like pity in his eyes. ‘You must be a very unhappy woman, Georgina,' he said, and then he shut the door in her face.

She was returning home in her carriage when she heard the sound of hooves pounding against the dry earth. The rider thundered past, coat-tails flying, and she recognized the pale gold hair and the slim form of Philip's son. Eynon, it seemed, was riding hell for leather into town.

‘Good lord, God-Mamma, where do you think he's going?'

‘To see this lawyer chap, I imagine, to find out the truth of the matter,' Catherine said. ‘I can't help feeling a little sorry for the boy.'

Georgina stiffened her shoulders. ‘With luck, the fool will fall and break his neck, that would save everybody a great deal of trouble!' she said savagely.

‘I think I shall return home to England at first light tomorrow,' Catherine said. ‘I find all this intrigue very tiring.'

‘Well, maybe it's a good idea,' Georgina said. ‘I suppose it's all too much for you, at your age.'

She did not see the angry look her godmother flashed her way and if she had, she would not have been disturbed by it.

It was with a sense of relief that Georgina saw her godmother into the carriage that would take her home. Catherine could be a little tiresome and anyway, once out of the way, Catherine might forget that she had ever wanted any part in the potteries.

It was towards evening when Philip entered the room. He smelled of the china sheds and she wrinkled her nose at him.

‘Darling, do you have to come in here straight from work?' She turned her face for his kiss, which landed on her cheek. ‘You have underlings to see to things at the pottery, you should not bother yourself with it all.'

‘For heaven's sake, stop talking to me as if I'm in my dotage, woman.'

‘Sorry!' Georgina made a face behind Philip's back. He looked up at her sharply.

‘I have done all you asked, now when are you going to do your part and provide me with an heir? Am I not vigorous enough for you?'

‘Of course you are, darling, you are a wonderful lover, don't be so touchy.'

‘Well, madam, answer me, are you with child yet?'

She knelt before him, her arm around his waist, her eyes downcast.

‘I have not had my . . . how shall I put it? My monthly curse. It could well be that you have made me . . . well, you know.'

‘Do you mean it?' Philip's mood changed. ‘My dear girl.' He drew her onto his knee. ‘You do look a little pale. I have been unnecessarily harsh with you.'

‘Darling, you are tired and worried about work, that's what it is. I know you had to sack some of the men and now they are running back to the Savage Pottery. I'll never understand these people.' She understood right enough, Philip was overbearing, he had become hard, unreasonable and the men did not like it. And also, they did not like the cut in wages that he had imposed on them.

‘Aye.' He shook his head and she could clearly see the bald patch that was growing larger every day. She closed her eyes and turned away.

‘Those idle workers don't know a real boss when they see one. A touch of the birch they need to keep them at it,' he said.

She swallowed her anger but she could think of nothing reassuring to say. She changed the subject.

‘I went to see Eynon yesterday.' She spoke softly, sensing that Philip needed to be humoured. ‘I told him about the unfortunate circumstances of his birth.'

‘You did what?' Philip rose to his feet, unbalancing her. She looked up at him, he was white with anger.

‘Who do you think you are, woman? You have no right to run my life, I'm not a child. I should have been the one to talk to Eynon. You take too much on yourself.'

‘But, Philip, I did very well while you were away, I made all the workers from the Savage Pottery come over to us.'

‘And how long did that last?' Philip said sourly. He walked to the cabinet and took out the bottle of brandy. ‘In any case, they were useless, bone idle. I want real men to work for me, not Lloyd Savage's leavings.'

‘Oh, Philip!' Georgina was unable to hide her exasperation and Philip looked at her with narrowed eyes, his displeasure plain to see in the tight set of his mouth.

Georgina hastily recovered from her mistake. ‘I wish you wouldn't upset yourself so over these people. They are not worth it. You are right, we can do without that sort.'

Inside, she was seething. Had Philip never heard of diplomacy? These men from Pottery Row could have proved valuable allies. Now Philip had alienated them, they would undoubtedly carry tales to Lloyd Savage. Philip was losing his grip. He was growing old and crotchety, quarrelling with his own shadow. The sooner he gave up and handed the reins to her, the better it would be for everyone.

She sank back in her chair. For now she must play the game of loving wife to this old, tired man standing before her. And it was not a role she relished.

‘I'm sorry, Eynon, you have to accept this.' Timothy Beresford was seated behind his desk, his spectacles caught in a slant of sunlight giving him a blind look. He rested his fingers heavily on the document before him. ‘It's the truth.'

‘But knowing my father he has bribed these people, can't you make other enquiries, Timothy?'

‘Eynon, I knew your mother well, we were very close friends, she told me everything. Do you understand me?'

‘Are you saying she admitted the truth?'

Timothy Beresford sighed. ‘Wild horses wouldn't have dragged this from me but now I have no other choice. You are the son of a serving woman by the name of Jane Cowper, father unknown. By the time your mother arranged all this, she had realized that she did not love your father, had never loved him.' He paused, considering his words.

‘Indeed, she had found him to be greedy and cruel and she was determined he would not profit from the large fortune her family owned. So her will and those of her dead brothers are made in your favour. You will never want for anything.'

Eynon sat in silence, not hearing Timothy's words. It was all too difficult to comprehend. He had loved his mother more than any other living soul; had loved a stranger, a woman who wanted him only to spite her husband.

‘Thank you for your honesty, Tim.' Eynon rose to his feet. ‘Give me a few days to think all this out, will you?'

‘Of course. I have not replied to Philip, not yet, I too have a great deal of thinking to do.' He paused. ‘Eynon, may I just say one thing? Your mother loved you, loved you as much, no, more than if she had borne you herself.'

Eynon sighed. ‘I am in no state to distinguish truth from lies. Thank you for talking to me.'

He left the building, not seeing the sun rising high in the sky or the long street that stretched towards the beach. He was picturing his parents, his true parents, and realizing how little they must have thought of him to give him away without a second thought.

‘We'd better be getting back.' Joe drew Llinos to her feet and the breeze whipped her hair around her face. She looked fresh and beautiful, her eyes as dark as those of any Indian maid. He had the urge to lay her down in the sweet heather of the hillside and make love to her. ‘Come on, let's go before I do something rash.' He was trying to make light of his feelings but he could see by the glow in Llinos's eyes that she was aroused as he was.

He drew her close and kissed her hair, her eyelids, her mouth. His lips moved to her neck and to the softness of her breasts. He felt fire spread through him, desire like molten gold ran through his veins.