Amanda Scott Read Online Free Page A

she could almost imagine herself as the heroine in one of Eliza’s idiotish books. Shaking her head at such foolishness, she turned her thoughts firmly to last-minute details that must be attended to before their departure.

2
    T WO CARRIAGES WERE REQUIRED to transport the Traherne party to Barmouth. The ladies and young Master Davy occupied the first, a large and lumbering traveling coach with the Earl of Tallyn’s crest emblazoned upon the door, while two abigails, Mr. Glendower, Marwyn, and piles of luggage occupied the second. The journey began early in the morning, and Davy, being the youngest, found himself occupying the forward, rear-facing seat between the younger two of his three sisters. In the short space of time it took the two carriages to reach the outskirts of Dolgellau, a scattering of neat stone houses and narrow streets at the confluence of the Wnion and Mawddach rivers, his squirming and stretching to see the passing countryside had begun to annoy them both.
    “Do, for heaven’s sake, stop wriggling!” exclaimed Eliza.
    “I want to see,” was his simple response. “Why are there so many people about at such an early hour?”
    “Because Dolgellau is a market town, of course,” responded Gwenyth loftily. “Don’t you know anything? Sit still.”
    “There’s a man with a pig on his shoulder!”
    “Davy, sit back where you belong,” commanded Eliza. “You are crushing my dress. Really, Meri, cannot you make him be still?”
    Meriel smiled. “We have a half-day’s journey before us, so the three of you will have to settle yourselves as best you can. Perhaps if one of you were to exchange seats with him, you would all be more comfortable.”
    “Well, I shall not,” said Gwenyth firmly, “for I wish to look out also. Besides, if I sit in the middle I shall more than likely be sick.”
    “That’s true enough,” said Eliza with a sigh. “Very well, Davy, you may sit here. But don’t scramble over me like a puppy, for heaven’s sake,” she added hastily. “If you will stand up a little, perhaps I can slide under you.”
    This feat was accomplished, and Davy was soon happily engaged in peering out at the passing populace, his button nose pressed against the glass. “Dolgellau is a very important town, is it not?” he said a moment later as the coach passed the Golden Lion, a bustling inn that had been nearly as famous in the days of the Tudors as it was now, and lumbered over the cobbles toward Saint Mary’s church with its distinctive oak pillars and tall spiked steeple.
    Gwenyth snorted. “Only wait until you see London, Mr. Know-all. Then you will think Dolgellau quite paltry.”
    Meriel chuckled at Davy’s wide-eyed expression. “London is a much larger city, you see, but Dolgellau is certainly important to Wales, for besides being a marketing town, it is also a manufacturing center.”
    “Indeed,” put in Lady Cadogan. “Do you recall from your lessons with Mr. Glendower just what is manufactured here, Davy?”
    The boy nodded without taking his eyes from the view. “Flannel. He told me that the wool from our sheep is used for that purpose. Oh, look, we are coming to a bridge.”
    Once over the ancient stone bridge crossing the Wnion, it was but a short distance to the Barmouth Road, which wound through a dark and gloomy vale to the village of Llanelltyd, then beyond through the mountains, following the course of the River Mawddach. Both road and river were hemmed in by rocky cliffs and steep banks hung with plantations of larch trees. To their left, kingfishers dove into the river, which flowed swiftly as it carved its way through the rock, its tumbling, rushing progress audible even over the noise of the carriage wheels. It seemed to Meriel, who had traveled the route several times before, that each curve brought a new and more magnificent burst of scenery to view, so she could not be surprised that her small brother continued to peer from his window without any sign of