Grace only realised her hand was still resting in his when he quickly withdrew it to assist his sister. Talek lifted Amelia down from the carriage and helped to make her comfortable in the high-backed chair. Grace was grateful for the diversion as it allowed her a moment to recover from the shocking news. When Amelia was satisfied with the placement of her legs and blanket, the housekeeper took over the control of the chair and pushed it carefully back to the house. Even so, despite the housekeeper’s care, Amelia’s head jolted against the weaves of wicker with each jutting stone in the path.

Grace’s eyes smarted with emotion. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered when she was sure she was out of the young woman’s earshot.

‘Sorry for what, Miss Kellow?’ enquired Talek. ‘Sorry that the horse easily startled? Or that the driver possessed the horsemanship of a child and could not control it? Or sorry that I didn’t find her sooner, so she did not have to endure the company of her dead travelling companions . . . her closest friends, a minute longer than was necessary?’

There was something in his tone that caught at her heart and dragged her attention away from Amelia. For the first time she saw vulnerability in the depths of his eyes. Her heart, which had been numb since yesterday, began to ach painfully between her breasts. He had been talking of his own regrets, under the guise of attempting to guess hers.

‘I’m sorry that time cannot be turned back. So much pain could be avoided if it was possible.’

His gaze lifted to her hair. ‘And what pain do you bear, Miss Kellow? We both know you’ve not been ill recently.’

Grace carefully replaced the shawl about her head. ‘None that I wish to share,’ she replied, before following in the wake of Amelia’s wheelchair as it headed towards the house.

* * *

Talek didn’t expect to revisit Bosvenna Manor again so soon, but a visit to Kellow Dairy had redirected his search to the derelict manor and overgrown grounds. He had felt duty bound to inform Miss Kellow’s father of her whereabouts, despite her insistence that there was no need. Talek played out the charade of accepting her reassurances, but unknown to her, as soon as their evening meal had finished, he had strode out to his stables and saddled his horse, much to the bemusement of the stable boy looking on.

‘Where are you going, sir?’ the lad had asked.

‘To Kellow Dairy on Bodmin Moor. I wish to speak to its owner.’

The decision to see Mr Kellow was an easy one as Talek knew that if, one day, he was fortunate enough to have a daughter, he would want to know if she had not reached her intended destination.

Kellow Dairy was deserted when he finally arrived. It was closed for the night, silent as if in slumber until the early hours when it would, once again, burst into life. However, despite the late hour, the farmhouse remained brightly lit. Securing his horse in the yard, he went to the front door. In mid knock, the door flung open. Miss Kellow’s distraught mother greeted him. His reassurances of her daughter’s safety went some way into pacifying her so he was able to step over the threshold. Her trust in him was quickly explained. It turned out that her husband had spoken highly of him, unlike her daughter. Mrs Kellow was horrified at her slip of the tongue. Talek instantly forgave her. She was fragile in her distress and had spoken without thought. Yet, he had to admit, the insight into her daughter’s opinion of him wounded his pride more than he cared to admit.

He was informed that Mr Kellow was still looking for his daughter and had spent most of the day scouting the moors. As the last shards of sunlight extinguished below the horizon, his search had turned closer to home and now concentrated on the Bosvenna Estate. Talek immediately offered to find him and tell him that his daughter was safe. Any decent man would have done the same, he told himself as he set off, although he couldn’t ignore the more basic desire to keep the good opinion of Miss Kellow’s parents.

Talek dismounted and looked up at the old building, which was barely visible against the inky black sky. He hadn’t expected to revisit the derelict building again, but it now appeared that Miss Kellow had lied. It had only taken a little questioning of her mother to discover that Miss Kellow did not have a well thought out travelling plan. She’d run away, leaving no forwarding address and only a brief note of explanation. Her parents were devastated by her sudden departure. What sort of woman could behave so callously? Yet, the woman must have had a good reason to leave a family who clearly loved her. Unless, of course, she was mentally unstable which would explain why she had taken a pair of scissors to her best asset. Her hair had been the first thing he had noticed about her on Hel Tor. It was hair that would be hard to ignore. Its fine strands of copper and gold had shimmered in the sunlight forming a crown of glory that any woman would cherish. Not Miss Kellow, it seemed, although, he reluctantly admitted, it was not her only asset. In fact, the woman had quite a few.

Talek braced his shoulders and reminded himself that she was also impulsive, untrustworthy and secretive and he could not help wondering what other secrets she had to hide. His eyes searched the dark windows. Her parents thought she might be here. He wondered what draw the ruin had that she would prefer its damp rooms than the comfort of her own home. He saw a man approaching, holding a lamp to light his way. He had found Daniel Kellow, or rather Daniel Kellow had found him.

* * *

Talek stared at the ornate brass handle of his desk drawer over the steeple of his fingers. It was unlike him to sit at his desk doing nothing, whiling away precious time better spent on the affairs of Bothick Mine.

Sometimes he would go for weeks without thinking of her, yet there were moments when her memory would rise up and grab his heart in a painful grip, paralysing his thoughts and draining his motivation to succeed.

Today was such a day, brought on, he suspected, by having a young woman beneath his roof who was neither a blood relative or out of the marrying age range. He reached for the handle and pulled slowly. The rosewood drawer slid out easily, its pleasing sound and grace marked the quality of its craftsmanship. Margaret’s wedding ring lay where he had last placed it, resting on the cushioned base of the small box inside. The top of the box lay beside it, its hinge lying flaccid, its spine broken from when he had thrown it in a rage. His heart constricted at the sight of the ring. The gold band, which had never been worn, was a symbol of a lost dream — a home filled with laughter, love and children that resembled their beautiful raven-haired mother. Margaret, who had been older than him by four years, was the love of his life. As a young man he was intrigued by her. Her maturity, her allure and her beauty had snared him from the very beginning and he instantly fell for her harder than any sane man should. She’d bewitched him and he’d enjoyed being under her spell until that fateful day when he was woken from his dreamlike state and humiliated in front of his family and friends.

He withdrew a framed photograph and stood it on the desk, turning it slightly so the sun’s soft morning rays didn’t conceal the detail. The portrait, taken at Talford Photographic Studio in Launceston, was arranged to commemorate their engagement. Their expressions were serious, as befitting the formal occasion, but it didn’t tell the whole story. Moments before, they’d been laughing together, a young couple in love and eager to be wed. It was a happy memory, a brief respite from the business that dominated his time as he struggled to understand it and make it more profitable. He smiled at the memory. Margaret had always made their time together moments never to forget. Two months later, she was gone and he was left numb with the shock. He thought he was getting over her and finally dealing with the grief of losing the future he thought he was going to have, but his melancholy mood told him he must be wrong. He blamed Miss Kellow’s presence for stirring up old memories. Memories that still felt raw and had helped shape the man he was today.

Talek replaced the photograph face down in the drawer and briskly closed it. He pushed himself out of his seat to go in search of Miss Kellow. He had indulged in his regrets far too long and he had more pressing matters to attend to. He’d promised Miss Kellow’s father that he would offer his daughter a position, a ploy to keep her safe until she had a change of heart and returned to Kellow Dairy. Her father hoped it wouldn’t be more than a few days and was willing to pay her wage for the fabricated vacancy. Talek, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure she would return to her family that soon, or even accept his proposition. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to offer it, despite agreeing to do so, yet what choice did he have? He could hardly stand back and allow her to set off to a destination that neither her parents could name and with limited funds in her purse. It wasn’t safe for a woman to travel unaccompanied, especially a woman who couldn’t make head or tail of a simple train timetable.

He found his sister and Miss Kellow outside, sharing a pot of tea in the shade of the white blooms of his late father’s dogwood tree. He paused to watch them. Amelia was more animated than he had seen her in a long time and her normally pale complexion held a healthy glow. He could see that his sister was enjoying entertaining a guest near her own age. It was a pastime she had missed. Since her accident, visits from old friends and acquaintances had fallen away at alarming speed. He found it difficult to forgive them, although he grudgingly understood. Amelia was vibrant and fun company, but now they only saw a cripple to be endured, or in most cases, not even that. Her friends didn’t want their social life curtailed by Amelia’s disability, as if standing next to her somehow reflected upon them. Ludicrous and untrue, yet they could not be tempted to return. To them, she represented everything they did not want to be reminded of, so they soon left her alone — isolated and abandoned in her brother’s sole care. Regret stirred him that he hadn’t done a better job of looking after her welfare. At the time of her accident, he was learning how to recover from losing the only woman he had ever loved. He realised now, as he watched Amelia smiling, that he’d neglected his sister in more ways than she deserved. He had ensured her physical care was tended to, even looked at a crumbling house with the intention of granting a passing whim for a view, but had neglected the woman inside.

He recalled the way Miss Kellow had comforted his sister during the carriage ride. He should have employed a companion before now and, perhaps, employing Miss Kellow was not such a bad idea after all. But how would he persuade her, when he would find it hard to conceal his own feelings of wariness toward her? He could not help but feel concerned that the same impulsive behaviour she had shown when she had cut her hair, could just as easily be a bad influence on his sister. The same disregard for other people’s feelings that she had exhibited when she had fled her family home, could be turned on his sister. The same poor judgement, when she had accused him of murder, God forbid where that would lead . . .

Talek was on the verge of changing his mind, when Amelia noticed him loitering and waved him over. As he approached, he realised the choice of asking her to stay was not his to make. Amelia had beaten him to it.

‘Besides,’ said Amelia, lifting her teacup, ‘you can’t possibly go to London with your hair like that.’

Miss Kellow self-consciously touched her neck, her fingertips searching to reaffirm the length of her hair. She barely touched it, before quickly withdrawing her hand and thrusting it beneath the tablecloth. The reminder had embarrassed her, just for a moment, but then she quickly rallied. He had caught a glimpse of vulnerability, but it had been so fleeting that he questioned if he had really seen it at all.

‘I see no reason not to go,’ she countered.

‘Why, you will be a laughing stock,’ replied Amelia, aghast. ‘Aren’t you afraid to be different?’

‘Sometimes one has little choice in the matter.’

Talek shook his head at the chair offered to him, preferring to stand. ‘My sister understands that more than most.’

Miss Kellow looked horrified at her faux pas. ‘I didn’t mean—’

Amelia came to her rescue, as he knew she would.

‘Talek is teasing you. He enjoys provoking people. I ignore him. I suggest you do the same.’

‘Your brother is not easy to ignore,’ muttered Miss Kellow under her breath. She hastily picked up her cup, but the tea was scalding and she was forced to return it to the saucer.

Amelia did not hear her last comment and busied pouring herself another cup of tea. Talek, on the other hand, had heard and found himself unsure how to reply. Was it a compliment or an insult? Miss Kellow’s complexion had reddened and she had developed a keen interest in the blooms beside her. He decided he didn’t want to know — for now.

Amelia put down the teapot. ‘So what do you say, Grace? Please stay with us for a little longer. I need a companion. Talek is too busy to keep me company and I know that he would prefer to have his office returned to Bothick Mine, where he can keep an eye on things. It would be so nice to have a friend again.’

Talek could see her mind whirring, as she tried to think of a suitable excuse. Perversely, despite his earlier reticence, he found himself wanting her to accept. He comforted himself that his sudden change of mind was for her family’s sake. Perhaps a little provoking would rile her impulsive nature into accepting?

‘I think you should not make Miss Kellow feel obligated to stay, Amelia. I’m sure she would rather be on her way. You said that you were intending to visit London. This delay must seem tiresome when the city is waiting for you.’

‘I don’t feel obligated and the delay has not been tiresome.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, Miss Kellow, but now the delay is over.’

‘Indeed it is.’

‘Then you are leaving this morning?’

‘No. I accept Amelia’s proposal.’

Talek smiled.

‘That is wonderful,’ beamed Amelia. ‘Although I think Talek should call you Grace from now on. Referring to you as Miss Kellow, only makes him sound pompous and stilted.’

His smile faltered as Grace looked at him, attempting to hide a smile of her own. ‘I think . . .’ he inclined his head slightly ‘. . . that I must insist that Grace should inform her parents of her change of plan and that she has taken up a position as your companion. They will continue to worry if they have not heard from her.’

Grace’s eyes widened, reminding him of the moment he had found her hiding behind the curtain.

‘How do you know they are worried?’ she asked. ‘Have you seen them?’

‘Yes. I felt it was my duty to inform them that I have their daughter under my roof. I visited them shortly after we returned yesterday.’