Beggars and Choosers (8 page)

‘From the way you behave, I know no such thing,' Gwyneth broke in acidly.

‘Father was pleased when I accepted Mansel's proposal of marriage.'

‘He wouldn't have wanted you to marry Mansel James at the expense of what little health that remains to me.'

‘I spoke to the doctor. He assured me that you are in no immediate danger.'

‘And what would he know of my suffering?' Gwyneth settled back on her pillows and stared at the ceiling. ‘Lying here, hour after hour, with no one to see to my medicines, and no one to read to me.'

‘Mari has offered.'

‘She has such a coarse voice. I can't bear her reading and you know how dreadfully my eyes and head ache whenever I try to read myself.'

‘Perhaps we should consider the suggestion Geraint made at Easter and look for a paid companion for you,' Sali ventured. ‘The last time Aunt Edyth visited, she mentioned she knows a highly suitable lady. A curate's widow.'

‘That is just the sort of low person your Aunt Edyth would be acquainted with,' Gwyneth replied.

‘Aunt Edyth assured me that she is a lady in every way but her circumstances, Mother.' Sali poured an inch of water into a glass and picked up the laudanum bottle.

‘And as a curate's widow she would be an Anglican. Your uncle would never allow her in the house.'

‘Would you like me to ask Aunt Edyth if she knows any respectable Methodist widows?' Sali measured out her mother's medication and dripped it, bead by bead, into the water.

‘Only if you are also prepared to ask if Aunt Edyth will pay her salary. Morgan has informed me that our budget won't run to the expense of a paid companion.' Gwyneth drank the laudanum and water.

Sali fought an impulse to answer back. Since her Uncle Morgan had taken control of the household accounts, he behaved as if the family were one step away from the workhouse, which was ridiculous given the size of the estate her father had left. But despite Mr Richards's pleadings, Morgan had refused to hand over a penny of her dowry before her marriage certificate was signed and had halved allowances. A measure that would have caused Geraint, Gareth and Llinos considerable embarrassment at their schools if Aunt Edyth hadn't privately made up the deficit. Morgan had also cut Mari's housekeeping to the point where she was implementing economy measures usually only seen in the poorest households in Pontypridd.

‘You'll be sorry when you marry Mansel,' Gwyneth hissed suddenly, with a venom that shook Sali's equanimity.

Sali took her mother's glass and strove to compose herself. ‘I love Mansel, Mother, and he loves me.'

‘And you think I didn't love your father when I married him?'

‘Of course not.'

‘And look at me now. I can barely drag myself out of this bed to lie on my chaise.' Gwyneth lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘Men are beasts and it was your father's demands and the rigours of childbirth that brought me to this. It may be all perfume, poetry and flowers between you and Mansel now, but it won't remain that way. He'll use and degrade you just as your father used, degraded and broke me.'

It wasn't the first time her mother had spoken to her about the physical side of marriage and Sali couldn't bear to listen to any more. ‘That was the front doorbell, Mother. If there's nothing else, I'd like to go.'

‘Then go, and ignore me and my advice, as you always do.'

‘I am neither ignoring you nor your advice, Mother, but it would be impolite to keep Aunt Edyth waiting.'

‘I'll die here alone in this bed and no one will care.'

‘I'll call Mari.'

‘If you must.'

As Sali moved to the door, Gwyneth asked, ‘Are you sure you gave me the full ten drops?'

‘I am sure, Mother,' Sali answered, although if she hadn't measured her mother's laudanum herself, she might have wondered. A minute or two after a dose of ‘medication', her mother usually sank into a stupor for three to four hours, but she seemed oddly agitated and nervous. ‘Do you feel unwell?'

‘Unwell!' her mother exclaimed scornfully. ‘You know that I am always unwell.'

‘Would you like me to send for the doctor?'

‘How can he examine me without you here?'

‘Mari –'

‘Please, spare me the embarrassment of a medical examination in front of a paid servant.'

‘Would you like me to ask him to call?' Sali reiterated.

‘No,' her mother said in a martyred tone. ‘But you can give me some more medication.'

‘Wouldn't it be dangerous to exceed the dose?'

‘Now
you
are a doctor.'

‘I don't think you should increase the dose without his permission. Shall I ask him to call tomorrow when I am at home?'

‘Who knows how I'll be tomorrow?'

‘I'll ask Mari to call him if you feel any worse. Goodbye, Mother.' Sali closed the door and retreated to her own room before her mother could conjure another excuse to delay her.

‘My coachman will drive Sali home after dinner this evening,' Edyth informed Morgan briskly, as she accepted his offer to join him in the morning room.

‘I assumed Sali would return home this afternoon so she could sit with her mother.' Morgan refrained from making a more forceful protest. During the months that had elapsed since his brother-in-law's funeral, Edyth had become adept at anticipating his disapproval and countering the objections he made to her plans for Sali.

‘Surely the maid can sit with Gwyneth for one afternoon.'

‘As Sali is so insistent on going ahead with her wedding, my sister is anxious to spend as much time with her as possible while she is still at home.'

‘I would have thought that as Sali will be leaving in six weeks it would be better for Gwyneth to become accustomed to another companion,' Edyth advised tartly. She lowered herself into a chair without waiting for an invitation. ‘I have invited Mr Richards to dine with Mansel, Sali and me this evening. He has prepared some papers that require Mansel and Sali's signatures. Business – you do understand?' She met Morgan's steely glare.

‘I would be derelict in my guardian's duty if I allowed Sali to remain out so late unchaperoned.' Morgan stood between the hearth and Edyth's chair, effectively preventing the warmth of the fire from reaching her.

‘Mr Richards has accepted the use of my carriage, so he will chaperone her. As Harry appointed him Sali's joint guardian, he is eminently suited to the responsibility. Wouldn't you agree?'

Morgan nodded ungraciously, realising that once again he had been outmanoeuvred. ‘Would you like some tea?'

‘No, but thank you for offering, Morgan.' Edyth glanced at the watch she had pinned to her lapel, as much to alert him to the fact that she had been in the house a full ten minutes before he had offered her refreshment, as to check the time.

‘You must forgive Sali for being tardy, she is with her mother.'

‘And how is Gwyneth these days?'

‘Frail, she suffers a great deal.'

‘She might find fresh air beneficial.'

‘The doctor has warned that the slightest exertion could have an adverse effect.'

‘Sali,' Edyth beamed, as Sali walked into the room dressed in her coat and hat. ‘Ready for a full day's shopping?'

‘Yes, Aunt Edyth.' Sali returned her aunt's smile.

‘I thought you had ordered everything you needed on your last shopping trip, Sali.'

‘Not everything, Morgan.' Edyth rose to her feet. ‘We haven't even looked at accessories yet. And Sali is booked in for final fittings with the dressmaker. Afterwards, I've arranged for us to see china and silver patterns.'

‘Have either of you given a thought as to how these extravagances are to be paid for? Sali has her allowance but –'

‘There is no need for you to concern yourself about the cost, Morgan,' Edyth countered blithely, as Sali opened the door for her. ‘Sali's wedding dress and trousseau will be my wedding present to her, and her household linen, china and silver my wedding present to Mansel.'

‘I still think they should consider postponing the wedding for at least another six months.'

‘We have discussed your proposal that they do so, at length, and dismissed it, Morgan. When can I see Gwyneth?' she enquired, as he followed them into the hall.

‘She is in no condition to receive visitors.'

‘Time is pressing. We need to discuss the wedding arrangements. Thank you, Tomas.' Edyth took the gloves and cape the butler handed her.

‘Gwyneth is in no condition to arrange anything. Any pressure, mental or physical, could prove extremely dangerous.'

‘Quite,' Edyth agreed, fully aware that she was irritating Morgan. ‘And that is why I think Sali should be married from Ynysangharad House.'

‘Sali can hardly marry from the same house her bridegroom is living in.'

‘Which is why Mansel is moving into rooms above the department store.'

‘It is a preposterous idea.'

‘Don't you think I'm a suitable chaperone for Sali, Morgan?'

‘This is her home. Her mother needs her.'

‘And when Sali marries, Gwyneth, like all mothers before her, will have to learn to live without her child. But don't worry, Morgan, when Sali moves in with me, we will both visit Gwyneth as frequently as her health will allow and, who knows, having something to look forward to may be good for her.' She handed her cape to Sali so she could drape it around her shoulders. ‘As Gwyneth is too ill to receive me, will you discuss my offer to host the wedding with her as a matter of urgency? As Sali's closest female relation after her mother and sister, Mr Richards thinks I would make an eminently suitable hostess for the wedding, but we really do need to send out the invitations next week.'

‘You have talked this over with Mr Richards?'

‘I would never make plans without consulting and gaining the approval of the family solicitor. Come along, Sali, we don't want to keep Miss Collins waiting. Good morning to you, Morgan.'

‘That's put Uncle Morgan in a foul mood for the rest of the day,' Sali observed, settling herself in her aunt's carriage.

Edyth lifted her cane and rapped on the roof. ‘Then it's just as well you won't be returning home until bedtime. Now, I suggest we forget Morgan and concentrate on the task in hand.' Her smile broadened. ‘Serious shopping.'

‘Is my dress ready?'

‘As ready as any dress before a final fitting.'

‘Then you've seen it?' Sali's face shone with excitement.

‘Yesterday afternoon, and before you ask, Miss Collins has been careful to keep it out of Mansel's sight.'

‘And?' Sali pleaded.

‘I don't want to spoil your surprise.'

Mansel stepped in front of the doorman as his aunt's carriage drew up outside the Market Street entrance to Gwilym James. It would have been a sizeable store in Cardiff; in Pontypridd, it had revolutionised the shopping habits of those who could afford to patronise its well-stocked clothing and household departments. An electric lift carried shoppers and stock between the four shopping floors and attic stockroom. An automated cash system whizzed capsules containing money around the store and over the heads of its patrons, to the delight of children. And the staff, trained, disciplined and closely supervised by Mr Horton, who had managed the store during the years between Gwilym James's death and Mansel's coming of age, and stayed on to assist Mansel, were the epitome of courteous deference.

‘Aunt Edyth.' Mansel opened the carriage door, folded down the steps and offered her his hand as he helped her to the pavement. ‘Miss Watkin Jones.' A wink belied his formal greeting.

‘Mr James, how are you?' Sali made an effort to forget her mother and uncle's fault-finding and the loss of her father's colliery, and smiled at him.

‘All the better for seeing you, Miss Watkin Jones. Miss Collins and her staff are waiting for you in the fitting room. After you have finished your morning's shopping I hope you'll both join me in the upstairs rooms for lunch.'

‘You've finished refurbishing them?' Edyth asked.

‘The decorators left yesterday so I can move in any time. I don't know why I didn't think of renovating them before. We could have saved the cost of a nightwatchman if a member of staff had lived in.' Mansel held open the door.

Edyth nodded acknowledgements to the floorwalkers as she entered the store. ‘What time do you intend lunching?'

‘I thought about half past twelve, but as the meal is cold apart from the soup, it really doesn't matter.'

‘Half past twelve sounds fine, however, Sali and I are dependent on Miss Collins.' Edyth headed for the lift.

‘Good morning, Mrs James, Miss Watkin Jones.' Mr Horton stationed himself next to the lift cage.

‘And good morning to you, Mr Horton,' Edyth greeted him warmly. ‘How is Mrs Horton?'

‘Sadly ailing, Mrs James, but thank you for asking.' He held out an envelope. ‘Your butler redirected a letter from your house.'

Edyth took it and pushed it into her handbag. ‘Thank you, Mr Horton.'

‘I've arranged for a china and silverware showing for you and Miss Watkin Jones in one of our private rooms, Mrs James.'

‘That was thoughtful, Mr Horton, but Sali and I can manage on the shop floor.' Edyth took Sali's arm as they entered the lift. ‘I meant it when I said we had some serious shopping to do and it will take for ever if we wait for the assistants to carry everything through to a private room,' she whispered, as the boy closed the cage.

White silk gleamed beneath fairy-tale weavings of the feather-light, starched, antique Bruges lace that covered the bodice of Sali's gown from the high-necked collar to the pointed triangle that ended an inch below her natural waistline. Long sleeves clung, a second skin on her upper arms that frothed out in cascades of lace worked to the same pattern as the bodice, layering the lower sleeves from her elbow to the base of Sali's thumbs. The slimline, satin skirt covered in a single layer of lace, swept down, foaming into a mass of ruffles on the hem and short train. Lifting the train by the fine white cord attached for the purpose, Sali spun slowly before the cheval mirror. After four and a half months of full mourning, the dress seemed blindingly, surreally beautiful.