Grace ignored him and attempted to steady the frightened horse again. She caught at the bridle, soothing him with more softly spoken words. For a moment it appeared to work, but the surrounding crowd saw the respite as their opportunity to close in further to rescue the load. Their advance was too much for the trapped horse to bear.

‘Everyone, stay back!’ shouted Tommy, but it was too late. The horse’s panic began to rise, along with its front legs. Before Grace could let go, she realised she was being dragged forward into the path of its flaying, dark hooves.

A man arrived by her side and reached for its head collar too. His hand, warm and strong, quickly slipped beneath the leather band next to hers. Their combined weight was too much for the horse and it abandoned its attempt to rear. His front hooves touched the ground as it angrily jerked its head to the side. The sudden stretch was too much for Grace and her fingers slipped free, but it did not matter as the man by her side still held on tight.

Grace knew, before she dared to look at him, that it was Talek. Their eyes met only briefly, yet the moment felt far longer. The horse still tugged at his grasp somewhere in the hazy distance, but his fear no longer mattered to her, for she saw, reflected in the depths of Talek’s eyes, a rare, precious solidarity that felt so intense that it caused the noisy chaos about them to fall silent to her ears. Only the sound of their hurried breaths, fanning each other’s lips, made any sense at all. It was a strange eclipse of reality, which could hide the anger on his part, and the defiance on hers, so that blood, high with sensations, was sent coursing through every part of her.

The moment ended abruptly when he wrapped one arm around her waist, lifted her off the ground and twisted her body behind him. The horse, which in reality was so close its odour still wafted round her, had attempted to rear again, but Talek’s quick thinking had shielded her from its hooves. He unceremoniously dropped her back onto her feet and turned back to the horse to secure his grip on its bridle.

‘Steady! Steady! Someone, undo the harness!’ Talek ordered as he tried to steady the horse with both hands. ‘Now!’ Workers on both sides of the wagon abandoned the clay and hurried to unbuckle the harness. They jumped aside as the horse sidestepped in fear. ‘Just two of you. Everyone else keep back,’ ordered Talek. Tommy and another man came forward to work on the harness. More clay slid from the wagon and others ran forward to protect the load. ‘I said keep back! The clay can wait.’

The crowd retreated at his order, leaving the remaining men struggling to undo the harness as Talek attempted to hold the horse steady. It was a difficult task. The horse continued to prance and Talek had to use all his strength to maintain his hold.

‘Someone, get a knife,’ shouted Talek. ‘Cut it if needs be. If this horse bolts, she will drag the wagon with her.’

Billy dropped his kettle and ran to the blacksmith. Within seconds he was back, carrying a knife. Isaac claimed it and stepped forward. With a quick sawing action, he sliced through the leather straps. The harness fell away and the horse took several hasty steps forward, its tail high with agitation and foam dripping from its mouth. Talek led the horse a short distance away and handed it over to Billy. ‘Check her for injuries before turning her out. She needs food, rest and water. We’ll not use her again until next week. She’ll need time to recover.’ He turned to the damaged wagon and surveyed the mess. ‘Salvage what you can,’ he ordered the men surrounding it. He jerked his chin towards another miner. ‘You there, find out why this wheel broke. If Dicken has returned to his drinking, replace him with a blacksmith who takes more pride in his work.’ Four men approached from the direction of the furnaces. ‘Get back to the kilns,’ he barked at them. ‘There are enough men here to clear this up.’

He turned round preparing to give another order, anger still clearly etched on his face. He saw Grace approaching and faltered. His gaze quickly raked over her body. As if finding her dishevelled, but ultimately uninjured, he quickly rallied. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he demanded.

‘Helping.’ As soon as the word was out, Grace realised she was doing nothing of the sort, but watching him. Talek didn’t seem to notice.

He took her by the elbow and guided her away from the earshot of his workers. ‘You know that’s not what I meant?’

‘Henry’s taken Amelia out. I came here to . . .’ Why had she come here? ‘. . . tell you where she was.’

‘Thank you, but I would rather you stayed at Roseland where it is far safer.’

‘A wheel falling from a cart can happen anywhere. I was in no danger.’

He turned to face her and lowered his head so she had no choice but to look into his eyes.

‘You know as well as I do that you were. Anyway, mining is dangerous. We use explosives here. What if there was a runner? An avalanche of clay can bury several men in one go.’

‘Mr Simmons, Tommy and Billy have been looking after me.’

‘They should be working. I shall have words with them.’

Talek was not the only one who could mete out a tongue lashing. Grace could too.

‘You’ll do nothing of the sort!’ For once he fell silent, his eyes narrowing as her courage mounted. ‘They are loyal workers who have looked after my safety. Tommy and Billy were accompanying me off the grounds when the accident happened. They breathe and cough clay for you and have done so for years. They don’t deserve a tongue lashing from you . . . and nor do I.’

‘They have better things to do with their time than escort you.’

‘I agree.’ Her agreement surprised him. He frowned in confusion and she grew in confidence. ‘However, they’ve shown me that they have more manners than you.’ Grace clamped her mouth shut, acutely aware that she had overstepped the mark.

His hazel eyes searched hers, as if he was considering how best to reply. She braced herself for his cutting retort.

‘You seem to know a lot about my workers.’

His soft tone wrong-footed her. ‘No more than just a few minutes in their company would reveal,’ she replied. She caught a fleeting change in his eyes that she had not seen before. Vulnerability? Self-doubt? ‘Perhaps you spend too much time away, or in your office in the sky, to learn about the men and boys who work for you.’

Any softness she thought she had seen vanished. ‘Curb your tongue, madam. While you are under my roof, I am responsible for your welfare.’

‘No one is responsible for my welfare, but I. However, if you feel under some obligation to my father, I can remedy that for you. You’ve made it plain by your attitude toward me that my presence is unwelcome. I will leave tomorrow.’

She lifted the hem of her dress and attempted to sidestep him, but his grasp on her arm halted her. He drew her closer. She was forced to take a step towards him, but refused to lower her gaze. They stared angrily at each other, their breath rapid as their anger simmered. She had fooled herself earlier, there had been no solidarity in their gaze after all. They were as far apart as they had always been. His eyes, framed with dark pinched brows, darkened as he glared at her. Finally his gaze lifted to rake her auburn hair.

‘I should let you leave,’ he muttered under his breath, ‘and be glad of it. It would be good for my sanity, but my sister will miss your company and I have promised your parents I will take care of you.’

‘Amelia can employ another companion and my parents will understand.’

‘You don’t have the power to ease their worry, Miss Kellow.’ His grip softened, yet she did not break away.

‘My name is Grace.’

Talek’s gaze darkened further, until they were almost black. He let his fingers fall away and stepped back.

‘I know. All I ask, Grace, is that if you should come here again, be careful. I am only concerned for your safety. What sort of man would I be if I was not?’

Grace absently rubbed the place where he had touched her. His hold had not hurt her, quite the opposite, in fact. It had exhilarated her, and the strange exquisite pleasure she had felt still continued to linger on her sensitive skin. She forced the sensation to the back of her mind.

‘I’m sorry. You have the responsibility for the safety of everyone on the site. It’s only natural for you to be concerned. If you didn’t, you would be a man with no feeling.’

‘Well, I can assure you that I do have feelings.’ He looked about him as the workers slowly made their way back to their posts. ‘I feel things deeply . . . too deeply at times and that is not always a good character trait to have.’ His eyes narrowed as he continued studying the clay peaks in the distance. ‘You may visit the site again, if you wish. All I ask is that you do not interfere with my workers and stay away from the pit and machinery. I don’t exaggerate the dangers here,’ he glanced at her, ‘and my sister would never forgive me if you were to get hurt.’

Without saying another word, Talek turned and strode away. Grace shielded her eyes from the sun to watch. It was a small concession on his part, but it was far more than she had expected him to make.

* * *

Grace continued to feel lonely. Solitude didn’t suit her, despite often seeking it in the past by escaping to Hel Tor. She wondered if her loneliness was a sign that it was time to return home. If it was, the stubborn part of her character refused to do it. She was happy to mix with the clay workers, as they didn’t know her past, but she couldn’t bear the thought of facing the villagers of Trehale or the employees of Kellow Dairy. She didn’t have the stamina to ignore their gossip or challenge them about it. Yet, she longed for company and reassured herself that it was possibly a sign that she was one step closer to feeling normal again. It appeared that the short time at Roseland was beginning to work its magic.

Although much of her time was taken up by Amelia, there were longs stretches when she was not required and it was at these times she felt the yearning for company the most. Henry’s visits were becoming a regular occurrence. His arrival, all smiles and plans, lit up Amelia’s face. Grace had to admit, Amelia’s excitement was infectious and when she whispered for Grace to leave them alone, she saw no reason not to. Grace couldn’t help feeling happy for her. It was obvious to her, if not her brother, that Amelia was falling in love. Henry was a suitable match. He was steady, financially secure and several years older than her. For Amelia, his attention was a potent tonic and lifted her spirits in a way that Grace’s company could never do. Grace’s free time was fast becoming a regular afternoon occurrence.

Seeking company, Grace returned to Bothick Mine again, but only when she knew Talek was not there. A loud hooter pierced the air on her arrival, signalling crib time. Eager to help, she immediately offered her services to Isaac. Although reluctant at first, he finally gave her a job of helping Billy pour drinks for the men who were gathering at the crib hut. The clay workers’ easy banter and dry sense of humour, soon teased a smile from Grace and she quickly found herself enjoying the busy workers’ break. However, she knew she could not make a habit of entering Bothick Mine. Talek had shown his disapproval and although he had relented, she had no wish to antagonise him further. Despite her bravado at the time, she was acutely aware that she owed the man a great deal of gratitude.

Fortunately, during her second visit to the crib hut, she discovered where her help could be offered that would not antagonise Talek. She listened quietly to the miners’ easy conversation, spoken through a mist of steaming tea as she circled the hut with a piping hot kettle and poured them all a mug of tea. It appeared that the village was preparing for the annual celebrations to mark the anniversary of the discovery of clay in the area and help was needed to decorate the village hall and run the stalls. The opportunity offered Grace everything she needed, company and a joyful distraction from what was really ailing her, and all within a community that knew little about her.

* * *

Talek looked over the carpet of clay laid out in the kiln. One end looked dry and ready for removal. His shift boss agreed with him and gave orders to the men waiting nearby to start removing it. The heat of the furnace was hard to take and Talek pitied the men, stripped to the waist, feeding the burners, but it helped put food on their table and they were grateful for the work. He slipped off his jacket and loosened the top button of his shirt as he walked the length of the building; his keen eye checking that the white layer was drying evenly along the route as it would be a sign that the heating system underneath was working correctly. He hoped Henry was checking their other pit, as he had promised. Stenna Pit was smaller and Henry oversaw it, just as Talek was overseeing this main one now.

A labourer approached, wringing his cloth cap in his hands and determined to speak with him. Talek waited for him to reach him and realised, with a start, he didn’t know if the man was in his employ or not. It irked him to know that Grace had been right when she’d accused him of not knowing his workers.

‘Mr Danning, may I ’ave a word?’

Talek gave a sharp nod that he could.

‘I’m looking for work, sir.’