‘I’m as sure as you are. Isn’t that why you fled your home? Because you were spoilt goods and wanted to start afresh?’
Grace fought the urge to slap his smiling face. She felt her nails digging into her palms as she balled her fists. Was the depth of her anger a measure of her hatred for Henry or her love for Talek? In that moment she really didn’t know.
Her voice sounded far calmer than she felt inside. ‘Then there is no more to be said and I will leave you to your recovery.’
Grace reached for the book and passbook to find it was gone.
‘You really should have kept a better eye on it, Grace,’ chided Henry.
‘Where is it?’
‘It’s my property and I have simply reclaimed it. Now it’s my word against yours, that’s if it ever existed at all.’ He looked to the burning fire, littered with fragments of grey, burnt paper, curling in the heat. ‘Some confusion on your part, I think. You saw some figures and was confused as to what they related to. It’s time you left matters of commerce to the men in this world.’
Grace fought to remain calm. Without her evidence or Amelia’s support, it was her word against Talek’s trusted business partner and sister.
‘Take from it what you will,’ she replied. ‘I have nothing more to say to you and, I trust, you have said all there is to say to me. Good day.’
* * *
Grace inhaled a long shuddering breath. She hoped the act would calm her. It did not. She looked back at the house, and was unable to recall striding out of it only moments before. Her world was imploding about her and she did not know what she should do next. Every choice open to her seemed to be paved with painful truths.
She could tell Talek about Henry, but he would learn of his sister’s involvement. Grace was sure that Amelia’s betrayal would hurt him to the core and the thought of destroying his trust in his sister brought her to the brink of tears. She would also be betraying Amelia as, foolishly, she had given her word to say nothing. And the pain would not end there, as now Henry had threatened to tell Talek of her own secret. How would he react to learning her father was a rapist? She dared not think of it.
She could keep quiet and hope that Henry’s business deal had no lasting effects. If it did, she could play ignorant and hope Talek would believe her. Could she base a fledgling relationship on lies that were waiting to rise up and take hold one day? She shook her head in frustration. What was she thinking? There was no relationship or ever would be, Talek had made that very plain.
Yet if he should find out about Henry’s transaction — and the product did cause problems — and he discovered that she knew, he would never forgive her.
A movement in the window above caught her eye. Through the polished, sun-kissed glass, Grace could clearly make out the silhouette of the woman she had seen only moments before. Henry’s cousin saw her too, but this time made no attempt to hide amongst the shadows. This time she stepped closer to the pane in order to be clearly seen. She lifted her chin in defiance as she looked down at her, before bending down and lifting a child who had been too small for Grace to see. The two women studied one another across the gravelled courtyard, as she cradled the child protectively in her arms. The intensity of the moment, although brief, rendered Grace immobile while it lasted and shaken after the woman finally turned away. She had given the child a heartfelt kiss before disappearing into the shadows of the room behind her. The kiss had been both maternal and territorial and, to Grace, also hinted that there was more to learn about the man Talek considered his friend.
Chapter Fifteen
The blur of scattered houses, hedges and irregular shaped fields told Talek the train had finally left Longton. One of the six towns located in an area of Staffordshire known as The Potteries, Longton and its neighbouring towns had thrived since the discovery of clay. The population had increased, employment had risen, but with the rapid growth came overcrowding and an abundance of vast, wide-based, brick chimneys churning out polluting, dense smoke. The industrial skyline reminded Talek of sombre tombstones reaching up to a black cloud of hell. He was glad to be returning to Cornwall, although his heart was far heavier than he could ever have imagined it would be.
Talek let his head fall back on the headrest, his mind recalling, with bittersweet memories, that moment on the beach when he had held Grace in his arms. He had not intended to kiss her or show how he felt about her. Heck, he hadn’t even acknowledged his feelings to himself until that moment. Yet despite longing for more, he had ended it, and she had accepted his decision with no recrimination or anger. It would have made it easier if she had. Instead her dignified acceptance had just left him craving for more. So why had he put a halt to anything developing between them? Why, even after all this time, was he still allowing Margaret’s humiliation to taint his life? He was so lost in his thoughts, that if it was not for the gentle rocking and familiar vibration of the coupling rods through his body, he would have thought he was on that beach with her now, rather than the confines of a crowded, airless carriage speeding to Cornwall.
Talek closed his eyes tightly to force the memory of Grace’s kiss to the back of his mind. Only she was waiting for him there too and he found it hard to resist joining her.
* * *
He opened his eyes with a start and sat forward, rubbing his face with a weary rake of his hand. What time was it? He fumbled for his pocket watch and found he’d slept for an hour. There was still a train change to make, but at least he would be sleeping in his own bed tonight — not that he felt he would be able to sleep well again for some time. His meeting today had seen to that. His present worries came flooding back to keep him company on the remainder of his journey back to Cornwall.
The train arrived at St Austell Station in a cloud of steam. Talek was one of the first to disembark. He waved away the porter who had singled him out for his fine clothes and was hurrying towards him. Talek did not need his help, he was young and strong, let him help other passengers with children dragging at their skirts and numerous trunks to carry.
A short, horse-drawn coach ride later and he was home again, to his own private oasis in the forest — Roseland. However, the relief he had anticipated as he walked through the door was marred somewhat on learning that Grace was not home. He went in search of Amelia and found her feigning to read a book by the bay window, which looked out onto the gravel drive.
She looked up at his entrance, surprised to see him. ‘Talek, you are home!’
He frowned. ‘My appearance should not surprise you as my coach just passed by your window.’ He took the book she had been reading and turned it the right way round. ‘Since when have you taken to reading your books upside down?’
‘Since my brother abandoned me and left me on my own.’
Talek smiled at the petulant jut of her bottom lip, a habit she had acquired since the day she could walk. It never failed to amuse him and he smiled. She returned it with one of her own.
‘So how were your travels?’ she asked, enthusiastically, setting her book aside.
‘You make it sound as if I have been on a tour of the Empire,’ he said as he approached the window and looked out on the surrounding trees. ‘The potteries are thriving. Caradon Potteries wanted to discuss some matters.’
‘Did the meeting go well?’
‘The breeze is gaining in strength,’ said Talek as he watched the greener limbs bending and swaying in the wind. ‘The trees are rustling their leaves as if they are percussionists with rattles.’
‘Talek? Is Caradon Potteries happy with our clay?’
Talek looked down at his sister. ‘Since when have you been interested in what the potteries think?’ he teased. She did not look amused. ‘There are always teething problems with any new contract.’ She grew concerned so he smiled to reassure her. ‘It is nothing that cannot be resolved. Now I have spent most of the day travelling and am in need of water and soap.’ He made his escape, but paused at the door, his hand resting on the frame. ‘How is everyone?’ he asked, without turning round.
‘Henry is recovering. He is up and about and demanding to return to his duties. He wants the ledgers.’
Talek nodded. ‘That is good to hear . . . that he is on the mend, I mean.’ He waited, allowing his chest to rise and fall in the hope Amelia would say more. She didn’t. ‘And Grace? Where is she?’
‘She has taken to her room.’
‘Is she ill?’
Amelia picked up her book and began to turn the pages efficiently, although noisily. ‘Not as far as I’m aware. I haven’t seen much of her of late. The accounts are keeping her busy . . . or at least that is what she tells me.’
‘You doubt it?’
‘I don’t question it. I’m only relaying what she has told me.’
