Chapter 23 - One Last Spring

If Gwen had only known that Rowland’s questions were simply a portend of what was to come a few days later, she would have undoubtedly found a reason to miss the worship service on Sunday. Instead, she attended the meeting with Aunty Jane and Thomas, and when it was over, she waited patiently for the pews ahead of them to empty before guiding her aunt into the aisle.

Since Aunty Jane’s measured pace was considerably slower than anyone else’s in the congregation, by the time they arrived at the door to the rear of the chapel, everyone else had already exited the building. With none of his flock still waiting to greet him, the minister exchanged a few words with Aunty Jane before offering her his arm to guide her down the step and out of the chapel. Thomas, in turn, offered his arm to Gwen, and she allowed him to lead her outside.

After the relative gloom of the chapel, the bright midday sun was blinding. Gwen raised her free hand to shade her eyes, and Thomas guided her a few steps to the left. Up ahead, Aunty Jane and the minister had stopped to talk to someone. Gwen looked their way—and froze. She would have recognized that dark hair and those broad shoulders anywhere. With unaccountably rising discomfort, she watched Lewis shake the minister’s hand before turning to see her for the first time. For a split second, she saw his blue eyes light up with pleasure, and then he noticed Thomas, and the light was doused.

Gwen removed her hand from Thomas’s arm and forced herself to move forward. Giving her a puzzled glance, Thomas followed.

“Hello, Lewis,” she said.

“Hello, Gwennie.”

Her stomach clenched. She’d only seen this expression on Lewis’s face once before, in the clearing the night before she’d left for Llanfyllin. And now, as then, she desperately wanted it to go away.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” he asked.

His politeness sounded forced, but it shocked Gwen into remembering her own manners. “Lewis Morgan, this is Thomas Henley,” she said in English. “Thomas is an engineer at the dam.” She turned to Thomas. “Thomas, this is Lewis. He’s my brother’s best friend and is a blacksmith at Pen-y-Bont Fawr.”

Thomas immediately offered Lewis his hand. “Very nice to meet you,” he said. “Any relation to Rowland Morgan?”

“He’s my brother,” Lewis said, accepting Thomas’s hand a little more slowly than it had been offered.

“I see the resemblance,” Thomas said. “Rowland helped mend a chain that broke on one of our cranes a while back.”

“That’s good.”

Gwen frowned at Lewis. What was wrong with him? She knew he spoke English well enough to maintain a conversation. Couldn’t he make a little more effort to be friendly?

“Are you back in Llanwddyn for very long?” Thomas asked.

Gwen saw Lewis wince at Thomas’s pronunciation, and even though she’d had the same reaction, it made her cross.

“You can answer this question in more than two or three words if you like,” she said in Welsh.

Lewis swung to face her, and the pain in his eyes took her breath away. “An Englishman? Really, Gwennie? And working on the dam, no less. I never would have believed it.”

Before she had a chance to respond, Lewis turned back to Thomas and spoke in English again. “No, Mr. Henley, I won’t be here long. In fact, I leave for Pen-y-Bont Fawr within the hour.”

“Well, safe travels,” Thomas said, a look of concern crossing his face as his eyes darted between Lewis and Gwen.

“Uh, sorry to interrupt.”

Still reeling from Lewis’s stinging words, Gwen looked up to see Rowland approaching.

“Mam asked me to come tell Lewis that if he’s to eat before he starts back, he should come home right away,” he said.

“Thank you, Rowland,” Lewis said. “I’ll come with you now.”

Rowland hovered uncertainly, as though he wasn’t sure if he was to wait for his brother or not.

“Good-bye, Mr. Henley. Good-bye, Gwennie,” Lewis said.

“Good-bye, Lewis.” Gwen’s voice was little more than a whisper, and in the end, she wasn’t sure if he heard her because he’d already turned and walked away.

Just before the brothers reached the chapel gate, Rowland placed his hand on Lewis’s shoulder, and she saw Lewis’s head drop. Tears pricked at the back of Gwen’s eyes. It felt as though she’d just lost something precious, and as badly as it hurt, she had no idea how to get it back.

“What was that all about?” Thomas asked.

“He had to go home for dinner because he’s leaving soon,” she said.

Thomas gave her a long look. “I was actually referring to what happened before Rowland arrived. The part of the conversation that turned your face and Lewis’s knuckles the same color white,” he said.

“It was nothing,” Gwen said, hoping that she could be forgiven for such a lie. It was far from nothing, but she was not about to discuss the matter with Thomas.

“We should be getting home, Gwen.” Aunty Jane’s insistent voice brought Gwen back to her current situation. “It’s getting late.”

“Of course, Aunty Jane,” Gwen said. “We can leave straightaway.”

The walk home was agonizingly slow. More than anything, Gwen wanted to be alone to sort out her thoughts and feelings and to work on making the pain in her chest disappear. Instead, trapped by her aunt’s inability to speak fluent English, she found herself forced to translate a long, drawn-out conversation between Thomas and Aunty Jane. And just as they reached the front door and she thought the ordeal was coming to an end, her aunt asked her to invite Thomas to stay for a cup of tea and a scone before he returned to his lodging.

At Thomas’s acceptance, Aunty Jane led the way to the sitting room and carefully lowered herself into her favorite chair. “If you wouldn’t mind bringing the tea things in here, bach,” she said to Gwen, “we’ll see if Mr. Henley would be so good as to stoke the fire.”

Gwen nodded. If she kept her mind on menial matters and her hands busy, perhaps it would help. She pointed Thomas in the direction of the peat and the poker and headed for the kitchen. By the time she returned with the heavily laden tray, the fire had perked up and the chill in the room was gone.

Thomas rose from his seat, took the tray from Gwen, and set it on the small table next to Aunty Jane. Gwen poured everyone a cup of tea before passing Thomas a scone.

“Did you make these?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, “but Aunty Jane made the jam.”

“They’re both excellent,” he said.

Gwen gave him a weak smile. Last night, she’d been quite proud of them. Now she didn’t think she’d be able to swallow a bite.

Thomas gave her a worried look. “I don’t mean to be forward,” he said, “but are you feeling ill?”

“I have rather a bad headache,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not very good company at the moment.”

“It’s quite all right,” he said, coming to his feet. “I should be on my way and let you get some rest.”

Gwen rose too. “Thank you, Thomas. You’re very kind.”

No matter what Lewis thought, Gwen knew Thomas Henley was a good man. He’d been nothing but considerate in every interaction she’d ever had with him.

“I hope you feel better very soon,” he said. He turned to Aunty Jane. “Thank you for the lovely tea, Mrs. Jones.”

Aunty Jane looked pleased. “You’re welcome.”

After walking Thomas to the door, Gwen slowly returned to the sitting room and started gathering the teacups.

“A nice boy, that,” Aunty Jane said.

Gwen placed the teapot on the tray. “Yes,” she said, “but I’m surprised you like him so much. You barely understand each other.”

“He has excellent prospects,” Aunty Jane said, “and that’s what’s most important.”

Gwen stared at Aunty Jane. That was her aunt’s measure of the worth of a man? His financial future? The teacup sitting on the saucer in her hand rattled, and Gwen lowered it back onto the table before her aunt noticed it was shaking. Why would she say such a thing?

“You mark my words, Gwen.” Aunty Jane was now wagging her index finger to emphasize her point. “There’ll be several young men from this village and the surrounding ones who’ll want to court a pretty, well-educated young lady like you. They’ll try sweet-talking you into believing you’re in love, but that means nothing if they don’t have the income to take care of you.”

Gwen stood in stunned silence. Had her aunt’s view on marriage always been so jaded? She wracked her brain for anything she’d been told about Aunty Jane’s husband, Arthur. He’d been a laborer for one of the local farmers and had died in an accident with a horse and cart only three years after they’d married. Undoubtedly his income had been small. Had she fallen in love with him only to live in poverty while they were together and been left penniless as a widow?

“But to get married without being in love . . .” Gwen said.

“Love can come later,” Aunty Jane said firmly. “All you need before getting married is basic common sense.” She gave Gwen a pointed look. “And in case you were wondering, common sense would tell you not to bother with any of the young men from Llanwddyn. Within four years, the local farmland will be underwater and so will the businesses. Everyone will have to start fresh somewhere else, and there’s no guarantee in that.” She leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. “I daresay Mr. Henley already has more money in his bank account than anyone from this village will make in a lifetime. And on top of that, he’s well mannered, attentive, and obviously quite fond of you.”

Gwen put a shaky hand to her head. Did Aunty Jane really think Thomas was interested in marrying her? That he was her best hope for happiness? Gwen refused to believe that all the young men in the village were doomed to a lackluster future simply because of the construction of the Vyrnwy Dam. Not when there were men like Robert and Lewis who relied on personal integrity and hard work to reach their goals.

A queasy stomach now joined her pounding headache, and just thinking of Lewis and remembering their interaction outside the chapel was making her feel even worse. She steadied herself against the back of the chair. “Aunty Jane, I’m very sorry, but I think I may have to go to my room,” she said. “I really don’t feel well.”

Her aunt pursed her lips. “You do look pale,” she said. “With all that walking up to the peat fields, perhaps you’ve overdone it a bit this week. See if a rest helps.”

With a grateful nod, Gwen slipped out of the sitting room and headed straight for her bed.