Firebird (22 page)

‘I'm sorry your father has died. As to the great spirit being kind, you know I can't abide all that foolishness. It might have been all right abroad, in France and in that hell-hole they called Mont-St-Jean, but this is a good Christian country. Remember, your father was good enough to educate you to our ways, at least you could pay them lip-service.'

‘Llinos?' Joe persisted.

Captain Savage wheeled himself to the window. ‘She's run out on me,' he said briefly. ‘The reasons do not concern you.'

‘Yes they do.' Joe spoke mildly and the captain looked at him with narrowed eyes.

‘How do you make that out?'

‘She and I are destined to be together. You can't change it, Captain, however much you would like to.'

‘Over my dead body. You are a . . . a foreigner, Joe, half native, I can't have your blood mingled with mine, you must see that?'

‘You have no choice in the matter, Captain.'

Lloyd Savage was suddenly pale. ‘You have seen my future? Tell me the worst, Joe.'

‘I didn't mean that, Captain. No man knows the time of his death.'

Lloyd Savage wheeled his chair towards the window and looked out. He saw the pale sunshine washing the cobbled roadway, saw the budding leaves on the trees.

‘You are right, none of us know how long we shall be spared. I was a pig-headed fool to drive Llinos away.' He turned to face Joe. ‘Will you fetch her back for me?'

Joe placed his bundle on the floor. ‘I don't think she will listen to me.' He smiled. ‘She's a headstrong girl but I will talk to her.'

‘Just say that I'm sorry and I want her home.'

Slowly Joe nodded. He rose to his feet. ‘First I must bathe, wash away the dust of the journey.'

‘She will come home, won't she?' Lloyd Savage's voice shook.

Joe faced him, his eyes steady. ‘I don't know. But I'll do my best to convince her that she's needed here.' As he left the room Joe's last glimpse of Lloyd Savage was of a man with his head bowed in despair.

‘He's back in Swansea,' Eynon said. Llinos was looking at him but not seeing him. The antipathy in his voice was enough to tell her who he was talking about. Joe was home and the joy she felt was reflected in her face.

He resented Joe, his good looks, his strength, his wisdom. Joe had called at the house several times and Eynon had told the maid to send him away. But the man would not take no for an answer for much longer. Any day now, Joe would barge in and carry Llinos off with him.

Eynon swallowed hard, searching for words to express his love for Llinos before it was too late. He wanted to marry her, to make love to her; the time she had spent under his roof had been enough to convince him of that.

‘I know.'

‘What do you know?'

‘I know Joe is back. Wake up, sleepyhead!'

He ached to touch her cheek, to kiss the sweet lips, but he had no doubt he would be repulsed.

He could well understand her feelings for Joe. He was handsome, confident in his masculinity and yet with a sensitivity that was rare in a man. He was everything Eynon was not.

‘Llinos, I have to say it, Joe is not suitable, not as a marriage prospect.'

A tiny smile lit her eyes. ‘Then should I take him as a lover?'

‘That's disgraceful, Llinos.' There was a touch of acidity in Eynon's voice. ‘Don't voice those sort of opinions to Joe, he might take advantage of you.'

Llinos smiled. ‘Joe knows exactly how I feel about him and if he was going to “take advantage of me” he has had every opportunity.'

‘Ah, well, I didn't know he was a paragon of virtue as well as everything else.' Eynon felt anger flow through him. He had been attracted to Llinos from the first time he met her, why on earth had he not made the most of his opportunities before Joe came on the scene?

Llinos sighed. ‘I love him, Eynon, nothing can change that. I want to own him, body, mind and spirit.'

‘Just like a woman, asking for the moon, the sun and the stars.'

Eynon picked up the small brass bell from the table and rang it vigorously. Almost at once, Maura came into the room carrying a silver tray.

‘Mena is gone to see her mammy, sir. I said I'd finish off in here, is that all right, Mr Eynon?' She set the tray on the table and the rich aroma of coffee drifted into his face.

‘That's fine, Maura. How's the baby?' He had heard the infant in the night crying pitifully. Maura's face was shadowed.

‘She's not right, sir. She's got a terrible cough, shakes her little body it does.'

‘I shall send for Brayley, he's an excellent doctor,' Eynon said reassuringly.

‘Thank you, Mr Eynon, you are so kind, and sure I don't deserve it.'

Eynon smiled. ‘No, I'm not being kind, I just want to make sure I get a good night's sleep tonight!'

When Maura left the room, Llinos stood beside Eynon's chair and wound her arms around his neck. He allowed his head to fall against her soft breasts, his thoughts in confusion. Was she teasing him or was she unaware of her own attraction?

‘You
are
kind, Eynon, you're a good man and I love you to death.'

‘You love me like a brother, though, is that it?' He spoke bitterly.

She kissed the top of his head and moved away from him. ‘Eynon, I have imposed on you far too long. Perhaps I should move out.'

Eynon lifted his hand to protest but Llinos rushed on. ‘I went to see your father's foreman yesterday. I've got a job at the Tawe Pottery, I start at the beginning of the week.'

‘I see. Doing what, exactly?'

‘Wheel turner.'

‘A wheel turner? Llinos, you are worth better than that.'

‘It's a start. Soon, I'll graduate to better things.'

‘I expect my father thought it a fine joke to take on Lloyd Savage's daughter.'

‘I didn't even see your father. Why should he notice me?'

‘Don't fool yourself, nothing gets past my father. He'll know exactly who has been taken on at his precious pottery.'

‘Do you really think your father would allow me to work for him knowing who I was?'

Eynon shook his head. ‘I have given up trying to work out how my father thinks. Anyway, I don't care about him. Work for him if you must but I want you to continue to live here with me.'

‘No, Eynon. It's been agreed that I share one of the houses in Morton-Edwards Street with some of the other girls who work at the pottery.'

‘Oh aye, my father's little hand-picked harem. You must be mad.'

‘Not mad, just proud. I can't live on your charity for ever, can I?'

‘You could work for me instead of for my father.'

‘Doing what?'

‘I could think of something.' He knew as soon as he had spoken that he had said the wrong thing. ‘I do need someone to run the house and that sort of thing. There's the er . . . there's the household expenses, they need monitoring.'

‘I won't take a trumped-up job out of charity, Eynon. So you see, there's nothing more to be said. I have a job and a place to live.'

She smiled at him. ‘Don't worry too much, Binnie has already got a job at the Tawe Pottery, he'll keep an eye on me. You know how grateful I am that you've put up with me this long.'

‘Look, Llinos, why don't you marry me?' He felt elated as he spoke the words. ‘I love you very much, you know that, and I want you to stay here with me. It would be the ideal solution, can't you see that?' He rose to his feet and faced her, his heart thumping. ‘Think about it, we have a great deal in common. We like each other's company and . . .'

He fell silent as he saw Llinos shake her head. ‘No, I don't want you proposing to me out of charity, Eynon. What if you should later meet someone you could fall in love with? In any case, I won't marry anyone but Joe, you know that.'

His feeling of euphoria faded. ‘Knowing you, Llinos, you will get what you want in the end,' he said.

‘Or die in the attempt,' Llinos said softly.

It was a strange almost uneasy feeling working in the huge buildings that sprawled along the banks of the river Tawe. The potting house was much larger than she had expected. It hummed with the sound of turning wheels and the slap of clay upon wood.

Llinos was crouched beside the fly wheel, looking at the boots of the potter, noting with boredom that one of his laces was untied. Her mind drifted, as it always did, to thoughts of Joe. Why had he not come to see her? Was he angry at her disobeying her father?

‘Hold the wheel!' Billy Sullivan's voice drifted down to her and she guessed he was cutting another pot from its base. Impulsively, she leaned forward and tied his laces together and sank back on her haunches.

She heard the creak of his chair as he rose and then before her startled eyes, she saw him crash to the floor.

Other booted feet came into her line of vision and, aghast at what she had done, Llinos peered round the wheel to see if the potter was all right.

‘Bashed his head,' a voice said gruffly. ‘Get some water, throw it into his face, he'll be right as rain in no time.'

To her relief, Llinos saw the potter open his eyes and sit up. ‘
Duw
, what happened?'

‘You fell, man, take a bit more water with your ale, I would.'

‘Wasn't my fault,' the potter struggled to rise. ‘Hell and damnation, my boot laces are tied together!'

Llinos was grasped by the collar and dragged forward. ‘What do you think you were doing, girl?' the potter said.

‘I'm sorry, I only meant it as a joke.'

‘A joke that nearly cost me my brains, you half-wit!'

‘All right, take it easy, Billy.' Binnie came forward. ‘It was only a bit of fun, man. Llinos didn't mean any harm.'

‘I don't know about that, I could have broke my bloody neck!'

‘I'm sorry, it was a stupid thing to do,' Llinos said. The crowd of men parted and a man in high boots, well-cut coat and tall hat appeared before her.

‘What on earth is going on?'

‘Fool of a girl tripped Billy up. Tied his laces together, thought it was a joke, she did.'

‘Come here. What's your name?'

‘Llinos, Mr Morton-Edwards, sir.'

‘Savage's daughter, eh?'

‘Yes, sir.'

‘I thought so. You forgot to curtsy, child.'

Llinos felt humiliated as she curtsied to Mr Morton-Edwards. Did he have to come into the pottery right at this moment?

‘Come with me, girl.' Morton-Edwards strode away and Billy gave her a push.

‘Don't stand there catching flies, girl, do as the boss man says.'

Llinos hurried to catch up with Mr Morton-Edwards, following him out of the building and into the cold splash of sunshine outside.

He kept walking without glancing back at her until he reached the elegant red-brick building which housed the offices. It was only then that he looked at her.

‘Go wash your hands and then come into that room there.' He pointed to a polished oak door and as Llinos bobbed another curtsy, he disappeared inside.

It took her a few minutes to find a place where she could wash. The room was long and tiled in cold black and white and some basins stood on a long shelf that ran the length of the room and beside each basin was a jug of water.

She removed her apron and left it hanging from a hook on the shelf before locating the room Mr Morton-Edwards had indicated.

‘Come here, let me look more closely at you.' She stood before him and he regarded her steadily. He reached out to tip up her chin and she moved a pace backwards.

‘A haughty little thing, aren't you?'

She felt her colour rise. ‘Sorry, sir.'

‘That's all to the good,' he said, nodding his head. ‘Sluts there are aplenty, good girls are more difficult to find.' He leaned back in his chair and regarded her steadily.

‘You are bored turning the fly wheel.' It was a statement. She nodded her head.

‘Why do it then?'

‘I need to earn a living like everyone else.'

‘You are too well-spoken to fit in with the peasant stock. What does your father have to say about you working for me, not pleased, eh?'

‘I suppose not.'

‘You can read and write and do figures, of course?'

‘Of course.'

‘You have not answered my question. Your father, what does he think of you coming here?'

She was silent, regarding him with suspicion. She remembered with a chill feeling Eynon's warning about his father's harem.

‘Well I won't probe into your business any more. But tell me, what other skills do you have?' He smiled as she looked puzzled. ‘It's not a trick question, Llinos. I am not looking to steal your virtue, whatever you might have heard to the contrary.'

She relaxed a little. She could tell by the upturn of Mr Morton-Edwards' mouth that he possessed a sense of humour.

‘Well, I can pot, glaze, paint, indeed I can do almost anything involving the making of pottery.'

He nodded. ‘I thought so. Trust Savage to make use of his own flesh and blood in any way he can.' He leaned back in his chair. ‘My son has had every advantage, the only time he came into the sheds was when he wanted a little fun. What he learned here was what he wanted to learn, but I would never think of expecting him to do menial tasks. He's a delicate boy but then you know that, you and he are friends, I understand?'

She felt suddenly hot. Embarrassed, she looked down at her hands. Clay still clung under her nails and self-consciously she picked at it. ‘Yes, we are very good friends,' she said defensively.