‘I had no appetite. Please forgive me.’

‘I hope you are not ailing for something.’

‘I’m well. There is nothing to be concerned about,’ said Grace, knowing it was far from the truth.

Amelia returned to her writing. Dear Amelia, thought Grace. Over the past few months, Amelia had taken every effort to make her feel at home. Today, however, Grace found herself questioning whether she really knew this family at all. Who was she to the people in this household? Employed companion? Friend? Auditor? Meddler? Familiar confusion as to what her position in life was, resurfaced with a vengeance.

Amelia looked up, surprised, as Grace had yet to move. ‘Am I to have your company today?’ Amelia asked, smiling.

Grace nodded stiffly. ‘I thought I would have a break from the accounts today. Do you mind if I join you?’

Amelia patted the chair next to her. ‘Don’t look so worried, Grace. Of course it is what I want.’ She dipped her pen in the ink bottle and returned to her letter. ‘I’m writing to Henry. He is finding his forced rest a little tedious.’

‘You have been in touch?’

‘Yes. He has been writing to me.’ Amelia indicated a neat bundle of letters on her desk, lovingly tied together with a length of red ribbon.

‘I didn’t know . . .’

Amelia paused and looked up. Her cheeks blossomed with a rosy glow and her eyes sparkled with excitement, but she said nothing.

‘Amelia? You look like you have a secret.’

‘He wants to marry me!’ blurted Amelia. ‘There! I’ve told someone. What a fine wife I will make when I have already broken my promise to him. He asked me not to tell anyone, and here I am telling you.’ She beckoned for Grace to come closer and grasped her hands. ‘He hinted at it before his accident, but last week he confirmed it.’

Grace didn’t know what to say or how she should feel. ‘Does Talek know?’ she asked, lamely.

‘No, not yet. We have decided to announce it after Henry has recovered.’

‘And are you sure marriage to your business partner is the right thing to do?’

Amelia’s grasp loosened. ‘You don’t look pleased? Why would you not be happy for me?’

Grace had hoped to feel her way into the difficult conversation. Not this situation where she felt forced into exposing him. How she wished she had her mother’s skill at diplomacy.

‘I think Henry is up to something.’

Amelia withdrew her hands from Grace’s.

‘I am sorry you have to hear this, Amelia. Please,’ begged Grace as her friend looked away, ‘let me explain. I think he may have sold low-grade clay from Stenna Pit as top quality clay. I think—’

‘It must be an error.’

‘No. I think Henry knew what he was doing.’

‘I did not mean Henry. I meant you.’ Amelia’s clipped tone gave Grace a start. She had expected Amelia to question her or demand evidence, but not this. Amelia returned to her writing, yet Grace noticed that her fingers were trembling.

Grace braced herself. ‘You don’t really believe I made an error.’

‘You should ask Cook for something to eat. Lunch is still several hours away. It is not good for one’s health to miss breakfast.’

‘I’ve no appetite. I’m worried.’

Amelia signed the letter and delicately blew on the ink to dry it. It was as if she hadn’t spoken.

‘You can’t ignore this. I think you are afraid I’m telling the truth.’ Grace stood up. ‘I will speak to Talek about it.’

Amelia’s hand shot out and grasped hers, halting her in mid-step. Her slim fingers concealed a surprising strength, yet she could not look at her.

‘Please, Grace. Don’t speak to Talek.’

Grace frowned. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I already know all about it.’ Amelia let her hand go. ‘Henry thought it was a good idea,’ she said, briskly folding her letter and slipping it into an envelope. ‘He will use the extra profit to reinvest. I saw nothing wrong with it and agreed.’

Grace sat down, horrified. ‘Does Talek know?’

‘No.’

‘Why didn’t you discuss it with him?’

‘He was away. Henry thought he would try to sell it for the best price possible. It was a good deal. Is that not what everyone does?’

‘But why would he not record the money properly. Why is he trying to hide it?’

‘Henry would not hide it. That part was probably a miscalculation. I will speak to him and he will correct the figures and Talek need not know.’

‘But he must.’

‘Talek and Henry have an agreement. Talek runs Bothick. Henry runs Stenna. There is nothing untoward. Talek does not need to know what is happening at Stenna Pit if the money is being invested for us all to profit from.’

‘It doesn’t seem right to not involve him.’

‘If Talek finds out we made this deal without consulting him, he will feel betrayed. Combined, our shares are bigger than his and he would have been outvoted anyway. The end result would have been the same.’ She fell silent for a moment, turning the letter slowly over in her hands. ‘Once Talek feels someone has not been transparent, he finds it difficult to forgive. The uncertainty in our partnership would destabilise the business. Miners’ jobs will be put at risk . . .’ Amelia let the letter fall onto her writing desk and lifted tear-filled eyes to her ‘. . . and he will hate me for my part in it, Grace.’

Grace crouched before her. ‘Talek would never hate you.’

‘I mean Henry. Don’t you see? He is the only man who has looked at me as a woman since the accident. It is alright for you. You just have to walk into a room and men fall silent. I don’t think you realise just how beautiful you are, and that in itself has a charm of its own. Me . . . I have been invisible since the accident, someone to avoid. And my withered legs are a constant reminder of why I am being treated like this. I thought this was how it was going to be, outwardly pretending to accept it, but inwardly dying a little more each day. Henry’s changed all that. When he visits, when he writes, he makes me feel . . .’ Amelia searched for the right word.

‘Special?’ suggested Grace.

Amelia shook her head. ‘It’s more than that, Grace, so much more. He makes me feel alive. He makes me want to live.’

Grace wrapped her arms around Amelia as she began to cry, her body heaving with rasping jerks as she tried, but failed, to speak.

‘Hush, Amelia. You don’t need to explain. Please don’t cry.’

Amelia withdrew a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at her cheeks. ‘You don’t understand, Grace. I thought I would never have the chance of marriage, but Henry has changed all that. He wants to marry me.’ She clasped a fist to her chest. ‘Me! A cripple!’