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Authors: Iris Gower

BOOK: Kingdom's Dream
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Eynon Morton-Edwards bent over the slim figure on the ground. The girl looked respectable enough: she had a silver cross hanging across her small breasts and it was clear she was not one of the doxies who plied their trade along the town's streets.
‘Is she all right?' A big man hurried into the roadway. ‘I'm Bull Beynon, in charge of the navvies.' He knelt in the road beside the girl, lifting her head and cradling her in his arms.
‘Do you know her?' Eynon asked, and when the man shook his head he said, ‘All right, come on, then, man, help me get her into the carriage. I'll take charge of her now.'
Bull Beynon picked up the girl easily and waited until Eynon was in the coach, then handed her over to him.
‘Turn the horses, Jacob,' Eynon said quietly to his driver. ‘We'd best get the hell out of here.'
Jacob flicked the reins and the horses set off at speed. ‘Those damn navvies,' he called over his shoulder. ‘There's always trouble with them on pay day. Ought to be locked up,' he continued.
Eynon settled the girl on the seat beside him and ran his hand over her thin limbs. ‘Nothing broken, by the look of it,' he said, ‘though there's a nasty bump on the child's head.'
‘Well,' Jacob said defensively, ‘we're not to blame. It's the navvies. I wish they'd get out of Swansea. The place would be much safer without them.'
‘Ah, but maybe they're a necessary evil, Jacob,' Eynon said. ‘They're laying the track for the railway and we've got to put up with them until the job's done.' The girl's head lay against his shoulder and her eyes flickered. She stirred in his arms. ‘I think she's all right,' he called, relieved. ‘She's coming round. We'd better find out where she lives.'
The girl opened her eyes and looked up at him in alarm. ‘Who are you?' she whispered, as she drew away from him, a frightened expression on her face.
‘I'm Mr Morton-Edwards, child.' He peered at her in the gloom. She looked very pale. ‘Are you feeling all right? That was a nasty tumble you took.'
‘I'm all right. Could you please take me home?'
Before Eynon could speak, Jacobs turned in his seat. ‘Out, my girl. If you're feeling all right you can find your own way home. You've given Mr Morton-Edwards enough trouble as it is.'
‘Hush, Jacob,' Eynon said, ‘and you, child, stay where you are. Tell us where you live and we'll get you safely home to your parents.'
‘I got no parents, sir,' her eyes were large and beseeching, ‘but if you'll take me to Greenhill I'll be all right.'
‘What are you doing out at this time of night anyway?' Eynon frowned. ‘You're little more than a child and yet you mix with the navvies.'
‘I wasn't mixing with them.' The girl was near to tears. ‘I came to town for choir practice. The Bethesda choir are singing tomorrow at Alderman Stanley's banquet.'
Eynon studied the girl. She was a few years younger than his daughter and she smelt of roses and freshness. Even though she was of the lower orders she was neatly dressed and obviously intelligent.
‘What's your name?' he asked, as Jacob set the horses in a trot, disapproval clear in the line of his shoulders.
‘I'm Katie Cullen, if it pleases you, sir.' Her voice was a little stronger. ‘And I'm sorry to be a trouble to you.'
‘Nonsense. It's I should apologize for knocking you down.'
The fog that had hugged the valley was thinning a little as the land rose towards Greenhill and Eynon sighed. It had been a wasted evening as far as he was concerned: all he'd wanted was a good night of conversation and wine with his friend Father Martin. Well, that was ruined now.
‘We're nearly there, sir,' Jacob's surly voice broke into Eynon's thoughts, ‘but it looks as if more navvies are up by here and they're making a nuisance of themselves too.'
But the sound of Irish voices singing into the night was sweet enough to bring tears to the eyes, and Eynon smiled. ‘They seem peaceable to me.
‘Is this where you live, child?' he asked, as Jacob drew the carriage to a halt. The girl nodded and got shakily to her feet. Reluctantly Jacob jumped down from the driver's box, ready to help her onto the road.
A navvy came towards the carriage. ‘Evening, sir. Is this little madam free for the rest of the night?'
‘I'm not a madam and I'm not free. Go away and leave me alone.' She sounded near to tears, and Eynon held up his hand to Jacob indicating that he should wait a moment.
‘Ah, a little Irish girl, a fresh young beauty. Come here, colleen, it's a long time since I held a girl in me arms.' The man rested his hand on her arm and she drew away so sharply she almost slipped on the wet cobbles. ‘You go, sir,' she said to Eynon. ‘I'll be all right.'
‘Oh, no, you won't,' Eynon said. ‘Get back into the carriage.' He reached out and drew her up the steps. ‘Jacob, take us home, there's a good man.'
‘But, sir, that girl is no good – a doxy for the navvy, she is, and you can't get lower than that.'
‘Be quiet.' Eynon spoke harshly. ‘I won't have disrespect shown to my guest. Drive on, Jacob.'
Jacob clucked his tongue in annoyance and flicked the reins at the horses.
‘Where are you taking me, sir?' the girl stammered. Her head was bent low and her hair, loose from its pins, hung over the soft, childlike curve of her cheek.
‘I'm taking you to my house,' Eynon said. ‘No one will bother you there, Katie Cullen. We'll sort things out in the morning.' He heard Jacob's cluck of disbelief. ‘Just do as you're told, there's a good man, and put some pace into the horses, will you? I just want to get indoors and pour myself a stiff brandy. I think I need it – it's been a bloody awful night.' He rubbed his eyes wearily, wondering what his daughter would have to say about a strange girl being brought home at this time of night. Well, it was only a temporary arrangement. Come daylight, the girl could make her way back to wherever she belonged. For now she would share the room of one of the maids. At least she would be safe there and he owed her that much.
The next day Eynon was up early and had long finished breakfast when his daughter put in an appearance. She said she wanted to talk to him and he knew exactly what she was going to say. She'd give him hell over Katie Cullen and then she'd forget all about it.
He could hear the impatient tap of her foot as he stood in the drawing room, gazing out over the long stretch of land that led down to the bay. The fog of the previous night had vanished and the gardens of the Big House were bright with early spring blooms. Drifts of daffodils glowed yellow among the trees and crocuses lent patches of brilliant colour to the flower-beds.
‘Father, are you never going to offer me an explanation?' Jayne's voice was high-pitched, hard and angry. ‘Why did you bring a harlot into my house last night? Have you no shame?'
‘The child is not a harlot. What makes you think she is?' he asked. ‘I spoke with her when I got up, and as she appears to be looking for work I've said I'll take her on here as a maid.'
‘Well, you always were taken in by a pretty face, Father.' Her tone changed. ‘I suppose I shall have to put up with your little ways now you're getting older – and I realize you must have been lonely since you lost Isabelle. She was a good wife but surely you can do better than a girl of the lower orders, Papa?' She sighed then smiled at him. ‘But as I love you so much I'll forgive you this time.'
‘Why are you being so reasonable all of a sudden?' Eynon's daughter never did or said anything without good reason.
‘Father, I've got something to tell you and I know you're not going to like it.' She did not meet his eyes. ‘Now, promise you'll hear me out and you won't get angry.'
‘All right, out with it. What's happened? Have you run up a bill at the milliner's, perhaps?'
‘No, Father, nothing so trivial!' She looked uneasy. ‘I've fallen in love and I intend to be married before too long.'
‘This is all rather sudden, isn't it? Who, may I ask, is the lucky lad?'
‘Stop treating me like a child, Father. This is serious.'
‘Listen to me, Jayne. We all fall in love more than once in a lifetime – look at me, I've had two wives and countless ladyfriends.'
‘I'm different from you, Father. I'm really in love, and the last thing I want is to fall out with you about it.'
‘Why should we fall out?' Eynon was humouring her. ‘It's not some chimney-sweep or an Irish navvy, is it?'
‘No, Father, don't be so silly.' She played with the ribbon in her hair.
Eynon frowned. ‘Very well. But who is this man that you want to marry?'
‘It's . . .' She hesitated. ‘It's Dafydd Buchan.' She held up her hand. ‘And please understand that I intend to marry him whatever you say.'
Eynon felt as if someone had dealt him a mortal blow. ‘Buchan of all people! How could you, Jayne?'
‘I told you. I've fallen in love with him.' She set her lips. ‘Just think about my feelings for once.'
‘But you can't marry Buchan. He's a womanizing waster.' His tone was sharp. ‘Where have you been seeing him, and how long have you been deceiving me?'
‘I'm not trying to deceive you, Father – I've just told you about him, haven't I?' Jayne glared at him.
He tried a softer approach. ‘Come here,
cariad
,' he said.
‘You won't coax me out of it, either,' she said, but came to him slowly, and he enfolded her in an embrace. Her hair was fresh-washed, soft as silk, pale as his own. She was his beloved child, his only child, and he could deny her nothing but marriage to Buchan. For God's sake, how could he stomach it?
‘Sit here beside me, Jayne.' He led her to the plump sofa that faced the large windows. Beyond the bright garden, the sea rolled into the shore aglow in the sunshine. ‘I want only what's best for you,' Eynon said. ‘You know what a reputation Dafydd Buchan has around here, and I'm afraid you'll be hurt.'
‘Please, Papa, forget about the past. Dafydd is a respectable businessman now. His pottery in Llanelli is flourishing and he owns half of Carmarthen. He's richer even than you, so I'd be well cared for.'
Eynon knew she was trying not to lose her temper, but he had to make her see sense. ‘The fact remains that Buchan is the father of an illegitimate son. Have you forgotten the scandal that raged throughout the town about his liaison with Llinos Mainwaring?'
Jayne looked at him mutinously.
‘Even if you don't remember other people will. Can you live with the shame of people talking about you, saying you're second best to Llinos?'
His words stung, and Jayne moved away from him. ‘That's over and done with now!' she snapped. ‘And you forget, Father, that your own past isn't above reproach, is it? I think your own feelings for Llinos are clouding your judgement.'
‘That's beside the point.' Eynon swallowed uneasily. ‘I deplore Buchan's lack of moral fibre but it's his interference in the laws of our country that worries me.' He struggled to keep calm. ‘Burning down gates and storming the workhouse isn't the sort of behaviour expected of a gentleman, is it?'
‘Dafydd was protesting against the toll charges, as you well know.' Jayne's voice was filled with righteous indignation. ‘He was trying to help people less fortunate than himself to get justice. In any case, that was a long time ago. Father, I intend to marry Dafydd whatever you say.'
She stared at Eynon challengingly. ‘He's coming here tonight to speak with you, and if you don't want to lose me for good please be civil to him.'
‘And what if I send him away with a flea in his ear?' But he knew what Jayne would say, even before her lips framed the words.
‘I shall elope with him and bring disgrace on you.' She came to sit beside him again and snuggled her head into his shoulder. ‘Please, Papa, just give Dafydd a chance.'
Eynon relented. He could never deny Jayne for long but this infatuation with Buchan was not to be borne. Still, a little diplomacy might not go amiss. ‘All right. If this man is the one you really want, then what can I say? Just promise me you'll have a long engagement. You're still very young, you know.'
‘Probably as old as my mother was when she married you,' Jayne said. She kissed his cheek. ‘I'm going to have a bath and change into something special for tonight.' She smiled at him. ‘I really must have a new wardrobe soon, Papa. My gowns are so old-fashioned, I dread to be seen in them.'
Eynon was on safer ground now and smiled in relief. ‘Get the sewing woman up here any time you like, and make sure the bolts of material are from new stock or you'll be buying sun-damaged goods.' He hugged his daughter and kissed the top of her head. She was so precious to him. Jayne had been the only bright thing in his life since he lost Isabelle.
‘You've gone all dreamy, Papa. You're thinking of Isabelle again, aren't you?'
He remembered the terrible events that had led to Isabelle's death. The rioting against the tolls had reached a crescendo and she had been caught in the thick of the fighting at the Carmarthen workhouse. She had been crushed beneath the hoofs of the horses ridden by the dragoons. Dafydd Buchan was to blame for it all, and now his daughter wanted to marry the man.
‘I know you miss her dreadfully, even now, Papa, but I'm here. I'll always be here when you need me.'
‘You're right, I still have you, my lovely child,' he said. ‘Promise you'll give your father some of your time when you're a married woman.'

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