Free The Oyster Catchers by Iris Gower Page B

have had with Eline.
    ‘ Duw ,’ Hari continued, ‘the poor boy was worn out from running along the beach, that nanny of his is a great believer in fresh air!’
    Will suddenly felt an outsider, looking in on a world of warm fires and even warmer emotions. He moved to the door. ‘I’d better get back to Oystermouth,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘Mrs Marsh will be sure to have a hot meal ready for me.’
    Hari was on her feet in a moment. ‘Oh Will,’ she said catching his arm, ‘I thought you might like to stay and have supper with us.’
    Will covered her hand with his own, ‘That’s very generous of you, Hari, but I want to go over the books this evening. Another time?’
    Hari rested her head against his shoulder for a brief moment. ‘I love the way you talk, all posh-like. Have I ever told you, Will, how proud of you I am?’
    ‘Then be proud of yourself,’ William said gently. ‘Craig too. Between the two of you I’ve become what I am today.’ He laughed, suddenly rueful. ‘A hybrid, half-gent half-working man.’
    ‘Nonsense!’ Hari said, ‘you are a real gentleman in every sense of the word, my boy, and don’t you forget it.’
    As William strode away from Summer Lodge, he looked back at the large gracious house with its sweeping lawns and large wrought-iron gates and wondered that he, William Davies from the slums of Swansea, was welcome in such a place.
    There must have been a star above him when he was born for, by rights, he should have spent his days in squalor and poverty in the hovel of a house at World’s End. It was only through Hari’s love and kindness and on the coat-tails of her vision and foresight that Will had been lifted out of all that and given a chance for a better life.
    And yet he was not happy, well, not completely. He wanted a wife, a woman whom he could love and honour until the day he died, the way Craig Grenfell felt about Hari. In other words, Will wanted Eline Harries.
    ‘I can’t be held a prisoner like this, Joe.’ Eline’s voice was low and tears trembled on her lashes. ‘Can’t you see I’ll pine away and die if I spend another day in this house with nothing to do but clean and cook for you?’
    Joe turned on her. ‘Well, have some children then.’ His voice was rising with anger. ‘Have sons for me so that they can grow and thrive and one day inherit my business.’
    Eline hung her head, she didn’t know why she hadn’t conceived. It couldn’t be Joe’s fault; she must be responsible, she must somehow have failed, but she couldn’t understand why.
    She had come to be Joe’s bride knowing nothing aboutcontact between men and women. Of course on the farm she had seen animals procreate, had taken it all for granted, but to translate those acts of nature into human terms had been beyond her.
    It had been a terrible shock when Joe had come to her bed that first night. It had been a painful, almost bitter, experience. Even though Joe had tried to be kind, he had a passionate nature and his emotions had been roused to fever pitch because he had wanted and waited for her for so long and now he had her in his arms.
    Eline had tried to understand that this was the way men were; she heard the village women talking often enough about preferring a tune on the fiddle to a night of passion and so she assumed they all felt as she did, that to give in to a husband was a duty rather than a pleasure.
    And then Will Davies had come into her life and when he was near her, she experienced feelings and emotions that she had never known before. She wanted to be in his arms, to have him take possession of her body and yet such feelings could not be right.
    ‘How could you expect me to let you work alone in a store with a strange man?’ Joe seemed to pick up on her thoughts. ‘Have you no shame, woman?’
    ‘There would have been other assistants when Mr Davies had time to engage them,’ Eline protested. ‘In any case, the shop has two huge windows looking out on to