Firebird (34 page)

‘I just don't believe it.' Llinos bit her lip. ‘I don't believe he's going to marry some Indian girl.'

‘But your father showed you the letter, didn't he?'

‘My father showed me a portion of a charred letter. I could barely distinguish the address and only fragments of the rest. In any case, even if Joe is married to someone else, what makes you think I'd want to marry you?'

She heard Eynon's sharp, in-drawn breath and regretted the harshness of her words. ‘I'm sorry.' Llinos hugged his arm. ‘I'm sorry for being such a horror. Since you returned home I've missed you dreadfully.'

Eynon was so kind, he wanted to give her his fortune, to take care of her; he was so generous and she was an unfeeling monster.

But then, were his motives so selfless? He could not conceal his joy that Joe was, apparently, promised to someone else. He, like her father, was prejudiced against Joe for all sorts of reasons.

‘Do you think your father would lie to you, then?' he said.

‘Eynon! Please! Allow me to make up my own mind about Joe.' There was a note of impatience in her voice. ‘You are looking at this from your own point of view.'

‘How can I help it? I want a wife and I want you, Llinos. Why should I defend Joe? He is a foreigner, his ways are different to ours, he even looks different. Just think about marriage to me, would it be so bad?'

She shook her head. It would never work. Already, she knew that she was born to passion. Her feelings when Joe had taken her in his arms had shown her that much and she felt no passion for Eynon, only friendship.

‘I'm sorry, Eynon, I want more, much more than you could ever give me. I will only marry one man and that's Joe.'

‘You might well end up an old maid, then.' Eynon spoke softly, not intending to give offence, but his words hurt nonetheless.

‘I know.'

Eynon took her hand. ‘You are probably right.'

‘What about?'

‘Everything. That Joe will come back to you and that marriage to me would be an unmitigated disaster.'

‘Oh, Eynon, I didn't say that.'

He kissed the top of her head. ‘I know. You and I are both fools, you know that? We are longing for that which we can never have. I am a weakling and I know you need a lusty man to share your bed.'

‘Eynon!'

‘Well, be realistic, Llinos. You are a hot-blooded girl. The only things I can offer are wealth and position and I realize that both those mean very little to you.'

His words were reflecting her own thoughts and she was uncomfortable that he knew her so well. ‘Oh, to hell with everything!' She broke away from him and on an impulse kicked off her shoes. Lifting her skirts, she ran into the deepest part of the rivulet following its course towards the sea. She splashed the water in glittering droplets towards Eynon.

‘You'll catch your death, you silly goose,' he called, standing tentatively on the edge of the stream. ‘Come out of there!'

Llinos lifted her skirts higher and danced wildly through the shallow water. Her hair came loose and cascaded across her face. She felt the chill bite of the wind against her wet feet and danced faster.

At last she fell into a heap against the sand. She began to laugh and then, suddenly, she was weeping.

Summer moved into a heatwave, grass dried in the barren outcrops of rocks on the hills above the river. Mr Morton-Edwards sat most days in the garden wrapped in a cloak, his health still far from good. And Llinos Savage had taken charge of the Tawe Pottery with a vengeance.

Production of the blue-white porcelain dinner and tea services had increased. The rate of failures in the kiln, though still high, were not enough to prevent production.

The more elegantly decorated china was being shipped to London, the highly coloured flower and bird designs meeting with favour among the rich clientele of the town establishments.

Llinos, with Mr Wright, continued to experiment with the composition of the porcelain. She was determined to retain the almost translucent quality of the china while making a harder paste that would not shatter in the heat of the ovens. It was proving no easy task.

Eynon continued to try to persuade her to marry him and in the meantime had signed over to her some of his shares in the Tawe Pottery. Llinos had quarrelled with him over it but he was adamant, the gift was given, he told her and she would be churlish to throw it back in his face.

Gradually, as Philip Morton-Edwards began to recover from his illness, he began to take more interest in the running of the pottery. He expected Llinos to spend time with him, talking over matters of production. And though Llinos had worried that he would think her a scheming hussy, on the contrary, he had accepted that she now held shares in the pottery with a great deal of enthusiasm.

‘My dear girl!' He was pale and thinner than before, but the sparkle of enthusiasm was back in his eyes. ‘My first wife gave Eynon those shares as well as leaving him an enormous fortune; he can do what he likes with them. As for me, I am only too happy to have you on board. Left to Eynon, the pottery would have faltered and died.'

He touched her hand. ‘I am very grateful to you for all you have done, but to lighten the load I have sent for my cousin Catherine to come and visit. I hope you don't mind, my dear?'

Strangely enough, Llinos did mind, she had become accustomed to being in charge. It was a position that suited her and she did not relish it being taken away. Still, it was doubtful that the cousin would wish to interfere in the affairs of the pottery.

Llinos realized that her life had fallen into a pattern: she had become busy and fulfilled, except that when she went to bed at home in Pottery House she was alone with her thoughts, and they were inevitably thoughts of Joe.

He was so far away from her, across vast oceans, living on another continent. It was in the dark hours that despair and anger against her father found release in dreams.

The Savage Pottery was also doing well, although the profits were and always would be far short of the fortunes made by the Tawe Pottery. Lloyd Savage had kept his feet on the ground, ensuring that his workers produced solid, everyday products which would always be needed in kitchens of homes across the town of Swansea and the valleys beyond.

The terracotta jugs and bowls, glazed with yellow oxide, continued to sell well as did the transfer-glazed, blue and white tableware made of good strong earthenware.

Llinos made a point of keeping out of her father's way. When they were together, she scarcely spoke. She knew her attitude hurt him but Lloyd had a stiff-necked pride that would not allow him to admit he could be wrong, and she could be just as stubborn as he was.

It was after a particularly vivid dream about Joe that Llinos woke to the early morning with tears on her cheeks. She rose quickly and splashed cold water over her face and body and dressed in her sturdiest high-waisted dress. Her anger and pain were so intense that she needed to be outdoors, to-breathe in the morning air.

The sun was already warm as Llinos made her way from along the row towards the Tawe Pottery. She heard her name being called and turned to see Eynon, his coat-tails flapping as he rode swiftly towards her.

‘Llinos, I'm glad I've caught you.'

She held the reins of his animal as Eynon slid from the saddle. She watched Eynon delve through his pockets and for a moment her heart leapt, thinking he had heard from Joe. His first words dashed her hope.

‘A letter from my Aunt Catherine,' he said breathlessly. ‘Father has invited her to stay but she feels he is still too poorly to take on a couple of visitors and she wishes me to offer accommodation to both her and her god-daughter, Georgina Fairwater.' He made a face. ‘I met her when she was a child, and a precocious little thing she was!'

He looked over the edge of the paper, his eyebrows raised. ‘I'll read it to you. It begins . . . “My dear Eynon”.' He made another face. ‘“Dear Eynon” indeed, I haven't seen her in years. Anyway, I shall go on.

‘“My Dear Eynon, My wish is to visit you at your establishment in Swansea. I shall be bringing Georgina with me and I believe that the two of you will get on very well together.” You can see what she's after, can't you?'

‘Lodgings for herself and this girl?'

‘No, no, Llinos, you are missing the point. Aunt Catherine is hoping to make a match of it, me and Georgina, she thinks I'll fall in love and marry her god-daughter.'

Llinos nodded. ‘You could be right. In any case, you can hardly refuse to let them come to Swansea, can you?'

‘No. That's why I'm here. I want you to come and stay. You know the house, you know the servants. You'd be a sort of hostess to the ladies. I shall be going away for a while,' he smiled, ‘making my escape, some would call it, and if you were to take up a tenancy, all done legally, you'd be in charge.' He paused. ‘Come on, you don't really want to go on living with your father, do you?'

‘I suppose not,' Llinos said. ‘But where are you going?'

‘I don't know, anywhere out of Georgina's way! I won't leave at once, of course, I'll see the ladies settled in and all that. What do you say, Llinos? Please agree, you'd be helping me out.'

‘I wouldn't mind renting your house but for heaven's sake, Eynon, I don't need to sign a legal document. No-one is going to attempt to push me out of there, are they?'

‘You never know. I would like you to be legally entitled to stay for as long as you like. At least let me do this much for you as a friend, I know you're unhappy the way things are.'

‘I don't know,' Llinos said again. ‘Can't you let me think about this for a while, you have rather sprung it on me. In any case, how could I pay the rent? Be realistic, Eynon.'

‘I am. You have wages for managing the pottery, don't you? And I will pay you as a sort of companion-cum-hostess. You see what I need, a buffer between me and dear Georgina while I'm home and a hostess when I'm not. Please, please, say yes. You would be doing me a favour.'

‘I'll think about it. Now, while you are here, come and see the work of the new young artist I've taken on, he's so talented you won't believe it. It's all right, your father hasn't been into the pottery for days, you won't have to meet him.'

‘You and your china!' Eynon tethered his horse to the fence post and followed her along the lane to the pottery.

‘Look, Llinos, the roses are out, perhaps Joe will come home soon.'

Her heart thumped rapidly for a moment. ‘What makes you say that? Perhaps he has decided that his home is on the plains of America where he was born.'

‘Perhaps.' Eynon fell silent and Llinos welcomed the silence; she could not bear to even talk about Joe. She missed him badly still. The months had not faded his memory from her mind or her heart. Without him, she was incomplete.

As she reached the entrance to the Tawe Pottery, she smelled the clay, the flux and the pungent odour of the glazes and squared her shoulders. She must put her longing for Joe out of her head, she had work to do.

‘Why, Llinos, how nice of you to come and see me. I've missed your company very much.' Philip was looking a little better, Llinos thought.

‘I'm disappointed that my cousin's god-daughter will be staying with Eynon. I had thought that Georgina would come over here to stay.'

‘Well, Eynon's going away soon and I said I'd stay at his house, at least for the time being. It's not a permanent arrangement but I feel I owe it to him to be a sort of hostess to Miss Fairwater.' She frowned. ‘In any case, it's difficult at home, my father and I are not getting along too well.'

Philip touched her hand. ‘I wish you were my daughter. You are a fine woman, Llinos. We have become good friends, haven't we? I don't know what I'd have done without you. You have looked after my pottery with the nerve and skill of a woman twice your age.'

‘I love the work,' Llinos said, ‘and I'm pleased that you have faith in me.' How could people be so wrong about Philip? He was old and frail and needed looking after. Well, she was doing her best for him, she could do no more.

Two days after Llinos moved in to Eynon's house Georgina Fairwater arrived from England. She was accompanied by her elderly, fractious godmother and a mountain of bags and boxes. It occurred to Llinos that the tall, disdainful young woman, staring at her as though she was a butterfly on a pin, intended to take up permanent residence in Swansea.

‘Where is Mr Eynon Morton-Edwards? Why is he not here to greet us?'

She flicked her gloves across the pale palms of her dainty hands, hands that had never touched clay or paint or glaze or indulged in any kind of work whatsoever by the look of them.

‘I'm sorry, I don't know where Eynon is. I'm not his keeper.' Llinos's tone was sharper than she intended and Georgina frowned down at her.

‘What's your name, my dear?' Aunt Catherine asked.

‘I'm Llinos Savage. I live here.'

‘Do you indeed?' Georgina said. ‘That's something we shall have to reconsider.'

‘The fact that I live here is nothing to do with you.' Llinos was beginning to think she should have signed Eynon's piece of paper. ‘This is Eynon's house, he alone decides who his guests are.'

Georgina's large blue eyes swept over her. ‘Really? Get someone to take our things to our rooms, would you?'

‘Sorry, I have work to do. I'm afraid you'll have to speak to the servants yourself.' Llinos left the house, slamming the door in a futile gesture of anger that nevertheless made her feel better.