Paradise Park (18 page)

Then Mr Buchan stood up abruptly. ‘If you didn't help her someone else did. Tell the servants to come to the hall and I'll speak to them one by one. I'll get to the truth if I have to dismiss the lot of you.'

It took the best part of a day for him to question all of the servants. Rhiannon was present at all times and she saw that the master wasted no time with Violet and Hetty, Sal and the other maids. It was the youngest groom who caught the full force of his temper.

‘Now, Danny, did you drive Mrs Buchan to town in the early hours of this morning?'

‘No, sir,' Danny stuttered. ‘None of the horses have been out today because of the foul weather.'

‘Well, you sleep over the stables, did you hear anything strange?'

‘I thought I heard footsteps in the yard about four o'clock this morning, sir, but when I looked out through the window there was no one in sight so I never thought no more about it.'

‘All right, you may go.' Mr Buchan stared at Rhiannon as the door closed behind the groom. ‘Well, it looks like no one saw hide nor hair of my wife. Can you explain that, Rhiannon?'

‘Well, sir, it's clear Mrs Buchan didn't want anyone to be involved with her disappearance. What she did she did alone.'

‘I'm going down to the railway station to see if she boarded any trains today. You can go to the coaching inn and make enquiries there.' He stood up and stared at Rhiannon, his eyes narrowed. ‘I can trust you to tell me the truth, can I?'

‘I haven't lied to you in the past and I'm not going to start now, sir.' She prayed silently that the master wouldn't ask her if his wife had left a note because if he did she would have to lie through her teeth – anything to keep him away from Mrs Buchan.

It was late afternoon by the time Rhiannon was able to get into town. She alighted from the carriage and told the groom to wait. Danny was looking down at her from the driving seat as if he wanted to say something. ‘What is it, Danny?'

‘Well, miss, I did see something outside this morning but I was afraid to say anything to Mr Buchan.'

‘What did you see?'

‘Mrs Buchan was running like the wind across the yard. She was carrying a bag and I knew she was running away. Did I do right, do you think?'

‘Yes, Danny, you did. Have you mentioned this to anyone else?' The boy shook his head.

‘No, Miss Rhiannon, I been too afraid to speak otherwise I'd be blamed for not running straight to the master.'

‘And why didn't you go to the master, Danny?' Rhiannon asked curiously.

‘I was sorry for her, miss, and I wanted her to get away. I know things haven't been easy for her lately.'

Rhiannon nodded. ‘You did the right thing, Danny. Wait here, I won't be long.'

It was strange how the situation in the Buchan household had changed. At one time Jayne Buchan had frightened the wits out of the servants; now it was she who had gained their loyalty. Rhiannon remembered how she'd been warned about Jayne's temper and it was true that the mistress was irritable at times, but then who wouldn't be with a husband who slept with every woman he met?

Rhiannon sighed. Bull Beynon wouldn't ever be that sort of man; once he made his vows he'd be faithful unto death. She felt suddenly lost and alone. Life without Bull stretched endlessly before her and she knew she would never fall in love with any other man.

She called at the house Mr Guy Fairchild had rented but there was no sign of Mrs Buchan or anyone else. The windows were dark, giving the house a rather sinister appearance.

Her next port of call was the inn but Mrs Buchan was not there either. In all truth, Rhiannon hadn't expected her to be sitting there under the eyes of anyone who wandered in for a bite to eat or a mug of ale. She spoke to the landlord but he hadn't seen a lady travelling on her own.

Back in the street, Rhiannon looked up and down the length of the Strand, knowing her search was fruitless. Mrs Buchan was probably far away by now, ready to begin a new life as a woman alone.

Danny drove her to a few more inns along the roads of Swansea but at last Rhiannon admitted they were wasting their time. ‘Come on, let's get back home,' she said.

Danny looked at her with big eyes. ‘We'll be blamed for this. We'll all be dismissed and I can't afford to be out of work, not with my mother sick and my little sisters to keep.'

‘Don't worry, Danny, you haven't done anything wrong. How can Mr Buchan blame you?'

Danny shrugged. ‘I don't know but he will, mark my words.'

Rhiannon climbed back into the coach and settled her skirts around her legs. She adjusted her bonnet and retied the ribbons under her chin, wondering how long it would be before she was out on the street again. Danny was right: someone's head would roll because of Mrs Buchan's disappearance, and it would probably be hers.

When she returned to the house Rhiannon saw that the door to the sitting room was open. Mr Buchan came into the hall as she closed the front door. ‘I'm sorry, sir,' she said, ‘there was no sign of Mrs Buchan. No one at any of the inns had seen her.'

He took her arm and drew her into the drawing room, closing the door behind him. ‘She's gone to that bastard Fairchild,' he stormed. ‘Curse the man! I should never have brought him into my home or introduced him to my wife.' He was still holding Rhiannon's arm. ‘You knew something was going on between them, didn't you, Rhiannon?'

‘I knew nothing of the sort, sir.' Rhiannon pulled away her arm. ‘I don't think Mrs Buchan is the kind of lady to discuss her affairs with the servants.'

‘Ah, but you weren't an ordinary servant, were you, Rhiannon? For some unknown reason my wife favoured you above the others. I'm surprised you have stayed so long – she must have turned over a new leaf and become less irritable.'

‘You could be right, Mr Buchan.' Rhiannon's tone was guarded. She didn't know what the master required of her. Was it sympathy, or was his temper about to erupt? You could never tell with Mr Buchan.

‘I still can't believe it,' he said bitterly. ‘How could she do this to me? Her reputation is ruined and she's dragged my good name into the dust along with her own.'

Rhiannon knew that the mistress had been provoked: any man who took his wife by force wasn't worthy of respect but she kept her thoughts to herself.

Suddenly he spun round to face her. ‘It's all your fault,' he said. ‘You and that other whore you brought with you, your loose behaviour influenced my wife. Why else would she run away from a perfectly good marriage?'

‘I don't think you can blame me or Sal,' Rhiannon said. ‘Mrs Buchan is a determined lady, she didn't need to be influenced by the likes of us.'

He didn't answer, just rang the bell and ordered that Sal be brought to the sitting room. The girl came in, her head hanging, her shoulders slumped, as if she knew she was going to be chastised.

‘You were with your mistress when she spent a few days away at the hotel. What did she get up to? Tell me, or it'll be the worse for you.'

‘I don't know what you mean, sir,' Sal answered, her voice trembling.

‘Look at me, girl!' Mr Buchan lifted her chin none too gently. ‘Did she let that man into her bed when she was away?'

‘I don't know, Mr Buchan, I didn't see any man.'

‘Don't lie!' He slapped her face, and Sal stumbled, catching hold of a table to steady herself.

Rhiannon stepped forward but Mr Buchan pushed her aside. ‘Come on, you little bitch, tell me everything that happened in that hotel or I'll take a horse-whip to you.'

Sal was white to her lips and Rhiannon could bear it no more. ‘Leave her alone,' she said loudly. ‘Does it make you feel big to terrorize a child like Sal? And before blaming the rest of us why don't you listen to your own conscience?'

‘How dare you talk to me like that, whore!' He caught her chin in his hand, his fingers digging painfully into her skin. ‘Who do you think you are, talking back to your betters? I've a good mind to flog both of you.'

‘Wouldn't you rather rape us as you did your poor wife?' Rhiannon slapped his hands aside. ‘I had to clean her up after you'd finished with her. The poor lady was beside herself with fear and pain. If you wanted to humiliate her you succeeded beyond your wildest dreams.'

‘That's enough!' Dafydd Buchan thundered. ‘Get out of my house right now, both of you, before I do something I'll regret.'

Rhiannon caught Sal's hand and pulled her out of the room. ‘Come on, let's go upstairs and get our things. Quickly, Sal.'

‘What'll we do? Where will we sleep? I don't want to be out on the road again.' Sal began to cry.

‘Hush now,' Rhiannon said. ‘We've got some good clothing and the gift Mrs Buchan gave me will pay our way for a long time yet.'

Once in her bedroom, Rhiannon began to stuff clothes into her bag. ‘Make a bundle of your things, Sal, and take some warm boots so we'll be all right in the winter.'

Suddenly the door burst open and Mr Buchan stormed into the room. ‘Give me that!' He snatched the bag from Rhiannon's fingers and emptied the contents onto the bed. ‘You will leave as you came, with nothing,' he said. He shook the bag and the soft chemise fell out, spilling jewels on to the floor. ‘Oh, I see, you're a thief as well as a whore!' Mr Buchan snatched her wrist. ‘You're not going anywhere until I've called a constable, and then, Miss High and Mighty, you can spend the rest of your life in gaol.'

He went out, leaving the tumbled clothes and jewellery where they had fallen. Rhiannon heard him turn the key in the lock and sank down on the bed, the fight gone out of her.

Sal burst into tears. ‘I don't want to go to gaol, Rhiannon. I know what it'll be like – I'll be dragged out to serve any man who wants me and I won't even get a shilling for it to keep body and soul together.'

Rhiannon pulled her close and smoothed back her hair. ‘Don't worry, Mrs Buchan left that note for me saying the jewels were mine, didn't she? He just didn't give me time to show it to him,' she said. ‘We won't go to gaol, you'll see.'

BULL BEYNON WALKED
along the track inspecting the line minutely. There had been some trouble in the night: it seemed a coach had almost been derailed and he needed to check there were no obstructions on this stretch.

‘Everything looks fine, boss.' Seth Cullen was one of the navvies who had been left behind when the crew moved on to the up-country line. He was a local man with a good knowledge of the area and Bull had found him invaluable. Yet at one time Seth had been a troublemaker, fighting and drinking every night, chasing women and generally disturbing the peace. Seth had had a fancy for Katie, both of them coming from Irish stock, but she, a demure little miss, had brushed aside his advances in no uncertain terms.

Bull couldn't blame Seth: Katie was a beautiful woman and Bull had fallen in love with her the minute he'd set eyes on her. She was so sweet and innocent, her head full of hymns she'd learned at choir practice in the chapel. To Bull, used to the women of the shanty town, Katie was like an angel from another world. It never ceased to amaze him that she'd fallen in love with him too. And now they had a baby and Bull's heart swelled with pride: one day his son would have all the advantages Bull had never enjoyed.

He paused in his scrutiny of the line and looked out towards the bridge at the old Gorse Road without seeing the stone structure or the green fields that surrounded it. Here he was, Bull Beynon, family man, his goal to make his son as famous one day as the great Isambard Kingdom Brunel himself.

‘Shall I go on ahead, sir?' Seth had drawn level with Bull and was waiting, hands thrust into his pockets, for directions from the boss.

‘Aye, you go on, Seth.' Bull left the line and sat on the grassy bank alongside it. He took out his pipe, lit it and drew on it with satisfaction. Seth watched him, rubbing his hands along his moleskin trousers. Bull smiled. ‘All right, you can stop for a smoke as well if you like.'

Seth obeyed with alacrity. He perched himself lower down the bank, acknowledging Bull's superior position in the scale of things. He poked tobacco into the bowl of his pipe and sucked at it.

‘I hear Rhiannon is doing well for herself,' he said, without looking at Bull. ‘Housekeeper she is now, up at the Buchans' place. Not bad for a girl who was a camp-follower, eh?'

‘Not bad at all,' Bull agreed. ‘But, then, Rhiannon was always cut out for better things than being a navvy's woman.'

He thought of Rhiannon, waiting eagerly for his attentions as she lay beside him in the bed they had shared. She was a fiercely passionate woman, an intelligent resourceful woman. He had admired her when he lived with her, and he admired her still. How strange that the two women he cared about were so different. Rhiannon had been hurt by life while Katie had lived blamelessly. They were opposites in every way, yet somehow he had loved them both.

He examined his feelings: did Rhiannon still have the power to excite him with her dark, sultry beauty? No, he decided, he would always respect and admire her, but now there was only one woman in his life and that was his dear wife.

‘I wouldn't wonder if Rhiannon don't get married to someone tidy, a footman or coachman or something like that,' Seth said. ‘The girl deserves it, she's too good for the streets and you must have known that when you took her in.'

‘I did. Rhiannon will be a woman to be reckoned with, mark my words, and I wish her the greatest luck in the world,' Bull said quietly. ‘She deserves it more than most.' Yet he felt a strange tug at his emotions to think of her with another man. He got to his feet abruptly. ‘Right, we'd better get back to work otherwise we'll both be dismissed.'

Seth grinned. ‘Can't see you getting the sack, Bull. Too valuable to the railway you are.'