Firebird (30 page)

‘Good crowd in here tonight,' Eynon said quickly, filling the awkward moment. ‘I suppose as the night draws in, business will be even brisker. Better have our fill early, I think.'

Eynon felt and sounded inane but Father Martin smiled at him, looking rather like an overgrown baby. His face was round and pink and his mouth curved upwards in a smile.

‘How are you managing up at the house without a woman's touch?' he said and amazement spread over his countenance as Father Duncan dug him sharply in the ribs.

‘Llinos Savage found me some servants so I'm fine.' Eynon felt sorry for Martin; he seemed something of a misfit. In which case, they should get on very well, two misfits together.

‘Ah, Llinos Savage, spirited girl, so spirited that her father has sent her packing.'

Eynon leaned forward. ‘Aye, it seems she was taken from the Tawe Pottery quite roughly.'

Martin rubbed his chin. ‘Well, that's understandable in the circumstances. I expect her father thought it best to put her in the care of a woman relative.'

‘I don't suppose Llinos thought it was best,' Eynon said. ‘She's independent, used to having her own way.'

‘Well, not this time. You heard the gossip about her, of course.' Martin looked around quickly. ‘It seems she spent the night alone with Mr Philip Morton-Edwards after his wife died.'

‘Well done, Martin.' Father Duncan shook his head. ‘I suppose it has escaped your notice that you are talking to Mr Morton-Edwards' son, has it?'

Martin clapped his hand over his mouth, his cheeks became pinker and his sparse eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. ‘Sorry, old chap, seems I'm forever putting my foot in it,' he said in confusion.

‘Think nothing of it,' Eynon said. ‘I've heard the story a dozen times and every version was different. I don't believe a word of it personally.' He was seething, he would have to speak to his father, tell him to his face how he despised him, tell him the scorn he felt for a man who would involve an innocent young girl in a scandal.

The silence seemed to stretch to eternity and Martin made an attempt to appear unflustered. ‘The funeral is all arranged; I'm to conduct the service. I hope to see you there.' He stopped speaking as Eynon rose abruptly.

‘I expect you will.' Eynon turned and without another word left the inn, leaving the openmouthed vicar behind him. His father had not thought to inform him of the funeral arrangements but then Eynon was a fool to expect such consideration.

Eynon strode along the road towards the Tawe Pottery, his hands clenched against his sides. He pushed the door open and strode into the house and one of the maids rushed forward to take his hat.

‘Where is my father?' Eynon said abruptly and the maid bobbed a curtsy pointing towards the dining-room.

Eynon pushed open the double doors and saw that his father was entertaining guests. ‘I wish to speak to you, Father. Now.'

‘So, you've honoured me with a visit,' Philip said coldly. ‘Have you forgotten that tomorrow is Estelle's funeral?'

‘I have just been informed of it by one of the vicars,' he said. Philip did not speak, he merely raised his eyebrows as though regarding a too-playful pup.

‘Very well, Father, if you will not do me the courtesy of coming outside, I shall be obliged to speak to you here.'

One of the ladies took up her fan and waved it fiercely. With a sigh, Philip rose.

‘Do excuse my son, he is not usually this eager to speak to me.' Philip led the way from the dining-room and closed the door. He turned to look at Eynon.

‘What do you mean by barging in like this? Have you no tact, no sense of timing?'

‘After what has happened to Llinos you talk of tact?' Eynon faced his father squarely; they were, he realized, of a height so that they looked each other in the eye.

‘Her father has sent her away, I am saddened by it but I am not her keeper, Eynon, surely you understand that much?'

‘And yet your selfish conduct is the cause of the gossip about the two of you,' Eynon said.

‘Nothing untoward happened,' Philip said carefully, ‘and if it had, it would be no-one's business but mine.'

‘So why did you compromise her, Father? What were you thinking of?'

‘Estelle had just . . . just passed away,' Philip said. ‘I felt very low, naturally. Llinos was sympathetic, she . . .'

‘So you were foolish enough to allow her to stay the night in your room? Didn't you stop to think of her reputation?'

‘I was distraught . . .' Philip said.

Eynon held up his hand. ‘No, you were selfish, as usual. So Llinos's father came and took her away and who could blame him?'

Philip shrugged. ‘He came when I was out, took the girl back home by force, according to Wright.' He shrugged. ‘What was I supposed to do?'

‘You are a spiteful, vindictive man and I am ashamed that you are my father.' Eynon shook his head. ‘You have no conscience, none at all. You might have ruined a young girl's life but what do you care?' He waved his hand towards the dining-room. ‘Your wife dead only days and here you are entertaining, I just do not understand you.'

Philip turned on his heel. ‘Nor I you. Now if you have finished your little tantrum, I will rejoin my guests.'

Eynon caught his father's shoulder. ‘Father, as a matter of curiosity, why do you hate me?'

Philip turned and his gaze was full of scorn. ‘Need you ask?' His voice was low, his mouth twisted into a sneer. ‘You are only half a man, you have no strength. I will never get an heir from you so I shall have to get myself a son, a proper son.'

‘You forget, Father, I am your heir whatever you think of me. I am your first-born, nothing you can do will ever change that.'

‘Oh, don't you be too sure.' Philip walked into the dining-room and closed the door.

Eynon left the house and went out into the cool of the night air. His father was an evil man and a fool, nothing he could do would change Eynon's position in the scheme of things. One day, Eynon would inherit the house, the pottery and all the money that had belonged to the family of Eynon's mother.

He stood looking up at the Tawe Pottery for a long moment and then he moved into the row. His knock on the door of Pottery House brought an elderly manservant to enquire what he wanted.

He was invited into the hallway and stood there waiting for Lloyd Savage to put in an appearance. Eynon's welcome at the Savage household was much warmer than he might have expected.

‘Eynon. Come inside, have you eaten?'

Lloyd was adept now at manoeuvring his specially adapted chair. Eynon nodded. ‘I have, thank you.'

‘Then we shall have a drink of porter and talk together, after all, you still have an interest in the pottery, don't you?'

Eynon seated himself in the comfortable leather chair and took the glass Lloyd handed him.

‘My interest in the pottery is nominal, I can see that you have everything under control without any help from me. I came to enquire about Llinos,' he said and Lloyd nodded.

‘I guessed as much. Your father was a fool, compromising the child's reputation the way he did. Well, Llinos is out of harm's way now, silly, headstrong girl.'

‘And Joe?'

‘Joe has gone. He had business of his own to attend to.' Lloyd tipped the glass to his mouth, savouring the liquid, rolling it round his tongue. ‘It eases the night horrors, you know what I mean?'

Eynon nodded, he knew only too well, except that his own horrors were very much different to those of the man before him.

‘So Llinos is all right?' Eynon sat back in his chair feeling suddenly deflated. He had expected another battle and Lloyd's geniality unnerved him. He was experiencing a crushing sense of disappointment. Even if he learned of Llinos's whereabouts, it was doubtful he would be able to see her.

‘May I have her address? I would very much like to write to her.'

‘I see no harm in that.' Lloyd wheeled himself to the desk and took out a sheet of paper. He scribbled an address and handed it to Eynon.

‘If you do visit her, tell her I'm sorry I needed to use such tactics with her.' He shook his head. ‘I had to take her from your father's pottery by force, it was not very pleasant. I don't suppose she will ever forgive me.'

‘And I will never forgive my father for putting her in such a position.' Eynon accepted Lloyd's unspoken invitation, holding out his glass towards the bottle for Lloyd to refill it.

‘Why do we need to battle with those we love?' Lloyd said. ‘I only wanted what was best for Llinos, but of course she couldn't see that.' He looked at Eynon. ‘She's grieving for Joe. Not even you could call Joe an ideal life partner for a girl as well-bred as my daughter, could you?'

Eynon paused for a moment to ponder what Lloyd meant by the ‘even you'. ‘I think it is the right of everyone, man or woman, to choose for themselves over something so important,' he said.

‘Well, that's it, isn't it? Llinos is still a child, she is not a woman, not by a long chalk. She proved that by staying in your father's room all night alone.'

‘Even so, she knows her own mind. I sometimes wish she didn't.'

‘Poor Eynon, I know you are in love with her, I can see it in your face. Why don't you go after her, talk her into marriage with you. That's what you want, isn't it?' He gazed into his glass. ‘I would never have thought I would accept the son of my bitterest rival as a suitor for my daughter but anything would be better than her marrying a half-breed.'

Eynon rose, forcing himself to be calm. ‘I'm sorry I intruded on your privacy.' He swallowed the lump in his throat that might have been anger and then again might well have been tears. ‘Thank you for the address.'

Outside in the coolness of the night air, Eynon felt the touch of rain on his face. It seemed that Lloyd felt as much scorn for him as his own father did.

He clenched the paper in his hand as though it was a talisman. He felt warm, suddenly here was a doorway to winning Llinos, he was sure of it. She would surely prefer marriage to him to being held prisoner for years to come. He glanced back once at the lights shining from the windows of the houses behind him. And then he walked away from the light into the darkness of the night.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The rosy glow of dawn was bringing the trees into sharp focus. Dew gently dusted the grass beneath Joe's feet as he walked towards the house in the hollow of the valley. He had arrived too late at the coaching inn. Llinos and her party had already left. Fortunately, one of the grooms had overheard the servants talking and knew which direction the coach was taking.

Now Joe stood outside Avonbridge Hall. It was a sprawling, elegant building with high windows and many chimneys. He held his breath and closed his eyes. He pictured Llinos, her dark hair fanned like a silk cloak on her pillow, her beautiful eyes closed.

He would wake her with his mind, touch her with his longing and she would come to him. He looked up at the morning skies, he felt the earth beneath his feet, breathed in the scents and sounds of nature awakening around him and he knew it was good to be alive.

She came to him as he had known she would. She stood in her flimsy nightgown, her hair flowing around her shoulders, just as he had imagined her.

‘Joe!' She stood looking at him for a long moment and then she walked slowly into his arms. He held her, kissing the glossy waves of silkiness as her hair cascaded across his face.

‘I knew you were near, I knew you would come. I dreamed about you last night.' Her voice was husky with sleep.

He kissed her eyes, her hair and then he kissed her mouth. It was as though the rivers of his past, the rivers of pain, rejection, and loneliness had turned into sparkling, cascading fountains. He was this moment, he was the past, the future, he was eternity.

‘I love you, Llinos, my little Firebird.' He felt her body strain against his and he wanted her, he would always want her. He had known her from time immemorial. She was his homeland, the grass on the plains. She ran free with the buffalo herds, she touched continents with the power of the four winds.

‘I love you too, Joe.' She pulled his head towards her and he felt her heart beat like a tiny bird against his own. Now, he had the right to claim her. He was no longer penniless. He was a man of property, a man with prospects. He could take care of Llinos in the way her father could respect.

‘Llinos Savage, come along inside the house at once!' The voice was cracked with age, fierce with outrage. Joe relinquished the soft sweetness of Llinos's lips and looked up.

A woman, old, with the map of time written across her face, her limbs gnarled like the twisting branches of the trees, was staring at him, her eyes alive, filled with anger.

‘Aunt Rebecca, don't be angry.' Llinos clung to Joe. ‘We are in love. Joe's come for me and I won't be parted from him any longer.'

‘Shame on you, girl.' Rebecca Savage twitched her shawl around her shoulders, covering her thin bosom. ‘Come indoors this instant.'

She hobbled painfully towards the open French windows, her hand, clawlike, gripping her stick for support. Joe looked down at Llinos.

‘I'll come with you.' He would explain to the old lady that he was offering Llinos marriage. He had not asked for his father's estate, had not even considered it his by right but if it was the key to his happiness with the woman he loved then so be it.

‘Joe.' Llinos held his hand in hers. ‘Why now, what's changed your mind?'