Paradise Park (20 page)

‘No, Dafydd, don't hurt him. It was all my fault, I asked Guy to take me away. If anyone's to blame I am.'

‘Very touching, I'm sure. Now, do I have to carry you out of here?' He marched her down the stairs and Jayne bit her lip, trying to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks.

It seemed as if all of the hotel staff were in the foyer, as well as some of the guests. One of the porters sniggered as Dafydd dragged Jayne towards the door. ‘That'll teach the flighty madam to play fast and loose,' he said gleefully.

Jayne's colour was high and her heart was thumping so loudly that she wondered if everyone could hear it. She prayed that Guy would not come back to the hotel until she and Dafydd were well out of sight. What might happen if the two men met didn't bear thinking about.

Dafydd took his horse's reins from the groom and pushed Jayne into the saddle. He swung up behind her and clicked his tongue, urging the animal into a gallop.

Jayne closed her eyes against the wind. She wanted to scream and cry that this was all wrong, that she belonged with Guy, that they were meant to be going away together but now Dafydd was ruining everything.

Several times, through the long, difficult journey, Jayne thought she would be unseated as Dafydd urged the horse faster. By now her eyes were streaming and she didn't know or care if it was the wind causing the tears or the terrible pain in her chest.

By the time they reached home Jayne was numb with cold and her clothes clung wetly against her legs as she slid down from the saddle. Dafydd dragged her into the house, pushed her upstairs and thrust her into one of the bedrooms. ‘Undress,' he snapped, and when she stared at him, uncomprehending, he began to tear at her buttons.

‘Are you going to rape me again, Dafydd?'

‘Just shut up and get your clothes off!'

He tore at the fine material of her bodice but Jayne stood her ground. ‘I am not getting undressed.'

‘Yes, you are. Now either you undress yourself or I'll call the servants to hold you down while I take your clothes off for you.'

Jayne saw that there was no way out. Dafydd was more than capable of carrying out his threat. With shaking hands she took off her clothes until she stood in nothing but her chemise. She watched as Dafydd took the clothes to the door and threw them out on to the landing. He slammed the door, then came back to her and snatched her wrist.

‘If you mean to force me then get on with it,' Jayne said.

‘Don't flatter yourself,' Dafydd said. ‘I don't need you, Jayne.'

‘What about sons?' Jayne knew she was on dangerous ground but she couldn't resist the taunt.

‘I have a son,' he said stiffly, ‘or have you forgotten that?'

‘If you mean the brat you fathered on Llinos Mainwaring then, no, I haven't forgotten, but the child is illegitimate or is that something
you
've forgotten?'

The slap came so abruptly that the shock forced Jayne back on to the bed. She put her hand to her cheek, blinking rapidly with the sudden pain of the blow.

‘Are you not aware that I can make a will leaving everything to Sion Mainwaring?' Dafydd said, his face pale with anger.

‘And will you recognize the boy publicly, then?' Jayne said, her voice rising.

‘That is precisely what I intend to do. I'll proclaim it to the world, if need be.' He smiled maliciously. ‘Though I'm sure most of the people in Swansea realized long ago that I am the boy's father.'

Jayne felt weary of it all. She wanted to lie down on the bed and close her eyes. ‘I don't care a jot about you or your money,' she said quietly. ‘You can go to hell, for all I care.'

Dafydd caught her wrists and closed his hands over them so tightly that she flinched. ‘Now, madam, that's enough from you. Get this into your head: you'll not see Fairchild ever again, do you understand?'

‘And you understand this,' she said quietly. ‘The time I shared with Guy was the best and happiest time of my life.'

Dafydd slapped her face again, harder this time, and she stared up at him, her eyes blazing. ‘You hit me once more and I swear I'll do you harm, even if I have to wait until you're asleep to do it. And don't think I'll go to your bed again. Now that I've tasted real love I won't make do with second best.'

He pushed her away from him. ‘You fool!' he said. ‘I told you I put Guy up to it. He was supposed to get your shares out of you and he very nearly succeeded. You can't still believe the man loves you?'

‘That is exactly what I do believe,' Jayne said coldly.

‘Where is he now then?' Dafydd's voice seemed to penetrate her brain. ‘Why has he not followed us? Because he saw you as a burden and a responsibility.' He paced about the room. ‘Oh, a woman can be amusing for a while, just so long as she's another man's wife, but it's a different kettle of fish when she wants to be with you for ever. Suddenly the game isn't so enticing.'

He faced her. ‘Guy wanted no more of you. He'd tasted the fruit and found it wanting. As for you coming to my bed, I wouldn't want you now. You're soiled goods, my lady.'

His words hurt her like stones. She tried to hang on to the thought that Guy loved her, but her confidence in him was shaken. Still, she wouldn't allow Dafydd to see how she felt.

‘Perhaps you'll have the decency to leave me alone now. I've had enough of you and your bullying ways, Dafydd, and I'll run away from here the minute I get the opportunity. You can't watch me all the time, can you?'

‘No, but I can lock you in your room when I leave the house,' Dafydd said triumphantly. ‘And without your friend Rhiannon to help you, you'll stay where I put you.'

‘I thought you might blame Rhiannon but she had nothing to do with any of this.'

‘Too bad, because she is behind bars, where she belongs. I've employed a steward to look after the affairs of the household and I'll make sure he watches your every move.'

‘What do you mean Rhiannon's behind bars? What are you talking about?'

‘You shouldn't have been so foolish and sentimental as to give her the jewels. I claimed she'd stolen them and the constable, of course, believed me.'

‘How could you sink so low, Dafydd?' Jayne said. ‘That girl never did you any harm.'

‘Well, forget Rhiannon and think of yourself. You'll be just as much a prisoner as she is.'

‘What about my father? Do you think he'll put up with you treating me so badly?'

‘Your father will mind his own business.' Dafydd said. ‘No one has the right to interfere between husband and wife.'

‘You call yourself a husband? A man who has to imprison his wife to keep her is no man at all.'

Dafydd shook his head. ‘I've had enough of this.' He strode towards the door and, with his hand on the latch, he turned to look at her. ‘Why I ever married you I don't know. All you've brought me is misery.'

‘Is that so?' Jayne said defiantly. ‘Well, I could have made a much better match myself. All you are is a jumped-up potter from Carmarthen.'

He seemed about to speak again but then he let himself out of the room. Jayne heard the key turn in the lock and, wearily, she sank back onto the bed. She was shivering, so she slid between the sheets and pulled the covers over her but the cold had penetrated her bones.

She wanted to cry but the tears had formed a hard lump in her throat. ‘Oh, Guy,' she whispered, ‘please come and get me out of here.'

There was no response except for the shifting of the coals in the fire.

‘I'M SORRY,
RHIANNON
, I've looked everywhere and I just can't find the letter.' Sal looked imploringly at her through the bars on the cell door.

Rhiannon did her best to smile. ‘Don't worry, Sal, we'll think of a way out of this, you'll see.' She spoke bravely but her heart was sinking: without the letter she might be locked in this stinking prison for ever.

‘It must be terrible in here for you, Rhiannon,' Sal said, ‘with women screaming and men cursing and swearing. We'll have to get you out somehow.' She paused for a moment, biting her lip. ‘I don't know how, mind, because I've done my best to talk to Mrs Buchan but the master keeps her locked in her room. He's making sure she don't run away again.'

‘How can he treat his wife like that?' Rhiannon said, forgetting her own predicament for a moment. ‘Why doesn't he let her go and find happiness where she can? It's obvious she doesn't want him.'

‘He's afraid he'd look a fool if his wife went off with another man, and he's determined not to let that happen. He's even got a steward in to watch us all, a Mr Sanderson. He's horrible.'

Rhiannon sighed. Her position seemed hopeless. ‘Well, I'm sorry for Mrs Buchan, the poor lady deserves better, but you'll have to talk to her, Sal, she's my only hope.'

‘Don't you go feeling too sorry for Mrs Buchan. She's got water to wash in, nice clean sheets on her bed and food to eat. She's not living in a filthy prison like you.'

‘Her room may not be dirty but it's a prison all the same,' Rhiannon said, ‘and I know she'd help me if she could. Can you try to slip a note under her door or something, Sal?'

‘Aye, I could try and I know she'd be down here in a flash to get you out.' Sal's face brightened. ‘I could ask her to write another letter to say that she gave you the jewels – but it's going to be tricky, mind, none of us are allowed near her room.'

‘Won't Vi or Hetty take a message to her?' Rhiannon asked hopefully. ‘I know they'd do it if you asked them.'

‘The master's got some other servants of his own besides Mr Sanderson. There's the new housekeeper, she's a hard-faced woman. I wouldn't like to come across her on a dark night.'

Rhiannon sighed. ‘I don't know what I'm going to do, then. It looks as if I'm stuck here for life.'

‘Now, don't say that.' Sal pressed her face against the bars so that they made ridges down her cheeks. ‘Mr Buchan's bound to let the mistress out some time, it stands to reason.'

‘When have men like Mr Buchan ever acted reasonably? Like the rest of them, he thinks with what's in his breeches.'

Sal laughed out loud. ‘Well, we knows better than most what men are like – we've had enough of them!'

‘Keep your voice down, Sal!' Rhiannon cautioned. ‘So far I've been left alone, but if anyone finds out what my trade used to be I'll have every man in the gaol after me.'

‘Might not be a bad thing, mind,' Sal said. ‘You might get out of here if you makes a friend of one of the guards.'

‘Never again, Sal,' Rhiannon said. ‘I'm never going to lie on my back for any man unless he's my husband.'

‘Can't see you married somehow,' Sal said. ‘You never going to have a bit of fun ever again, then?'

‘If that's the way it's got to be.'

‘Oh, look out, there's one of the guards coming now.' Sal glanced over her shoulder nervously.

Rhiannon, listening to the heavy footsteps getting nearer, felt sorry for the girl. ‘Don't worry, Sal, no one can hurt you, not now.' She touched Sal's cold fingers as they curled round the bars. ‘You're a respectable maid working for Mr Dafydd Buchan, businessman, and don't let anyone forget it.'

‘You're right, but I'd better go anyway.' Sal's frightened blue eyes met Rhiannon's firm gaze. ‘I'll try my best to do something for you.'

Sal sped away and Rhiannon rested her head against the bars on the door. If only she could get out of prison and set about clearing her name there would be hope for her. She might have lived the life of a whore but she had never stolen from any man, and there were a few who would testify to that.

After a moment, Rhiannon went to the back of her cell and sank onto the straw pallet. She closed her eyes and tried to rest, but the injustice of her situation burned within her and she knew it would be a long time before she found release in sleep.

‘Mrs Buchan.' The voice at the door was little more than a whisper. ‘Mrs Buchan, it's me, Sal. You got to help us – Rhiannon is in terrible trouble.'

Jayne went to the door and pressed herself against it. ‘I know, Sal, but what can I do about it?'

‘You can tell them the truth. You know Rhiannon didn't steal them jewels you gave her, and it's terrible to see her in gaol. She'll die there if we don't get her out. You should see how thin she's gone.'

‘Now, listen, Sal,' Jayne said, in a low whisper, ‘you must find me some clothes and then you must get the master key and unlock this door for me.'

‘Oh, Mrs Buchan, I don't think I can do that,' Sal said. ‘It's only because the steward's gone out with Mr Buchan and the new housekeeper's asleep that I've been able to get up here at all.'

Jayne's heart sank. ‘Oh, Sal, I have to get out of here or I'll go mad. Can't you do anything to help me?'

‘Well, I did a bit of lock-picking when I was . . . well, you know . . . so I could try and get your door open, I suppose.'

‘Go on, then, Sal, try your best – you'll be well rewarded, I'll see to it.' Jayne heard Sal's light footsteps running away across the landing and then as she waited, hardly daring to breathe, she heard the girl return. There was a grating sound in the lock and Jayne looked round the room, wondering what she could cover herself with. Dafydd knew how to humiliate her.

The door opened and, cautiously, Sal came in. ‘Here, mistress, put this on.' She held out a shawl.

Jayne took it gratefully. ‘Good girl, Sal!' She looked ruefully at her bare feet. Sal immediately took off her own shoes. ‘Have these, Mrs Buchan. I'm used to going barefoot and you're not.'

Jayne peeped out of the door but there was no sign of anyone on the landing or the stairs. Sal came out behind her, closed the door and locked it again with the bent pin she had used to open it.