Hurt and bewilderment creased the corners of his eyes. ‘And you still did not tell me.’
Grace touched his arm to soothe away his pain, or perhaps her own, in that moment she did not know which.
‘There is so much to tell you, Talek. Please, let me come with you.’
Talek twisted his arm away from under her hand. ‘Of course you are coming with me,’ he snapped. ‘You know where Henry lives.’ He stared at the harnessed horse in front of him as Grace climbed aboard. ‘You have much explaining to do. I thought I knew you . . .’ he gave her a cursory glance ‘. . . but it appears that I was wrong.’
Talek shouted at the horse, which lurched forward, jolting both the trap and its occupants. Grace clutched at the seat to steady herself as Talek expertly turned and headed towards the drive.
Talek drove the horse at a brisk trot, his eagerness to speak to Henry making him unusually reckless. Twice a wagon travelling in the opposite direction was forced to enter a ditch to allow him room to pass.
‘Please, be careful,’ begged Grace. ‘Henry is not going anywhere.’
‘How can you be sure? He has withdrawn money. Who knows what his intentions are?’ His jaw tightened, ‘Or perhaps your visits involved more than just business.’
‘I don’t care for what you are insinuating.’
‘At this moment, I don’t care what you think. I only care about what you have discovered and hidden from me. Tell me, Grace. What “discrepancies”?’
‘I believe Henry has sold Stenna Pit clay for a higher grade.’
Talek’s hands tightened on the reins, but he did not look at her. ‘Go on.’
‘Henry told me he had made a good deal and there was nothing out of the ordinary about it.’
‘And you believed him?’
Grace looked at him. The ride jarred her body, but his remained rigid and focused on what was ahead.
‘At first I did not trust my own judgement to know one way or another. And . . .’ her gaze soaked in the man she had grown to love ‘. . . I did not know if you were aware and was part of it too.’
Talek threw her an angry glance. ‘You think I would be involved in such an underhand practice? You think I would risk my reputation by selling clay at a higher value than it is worth?’
‘Not as I came to know you,’ she replied, earnestly. Talek’s anger did not soften. She could not blame him. ‘I suspected he was recording a lower price for the clay he sold and keeping the profit for himself . . . but that was more difficult to prove.’
‘Idiot! His foolishness risks our reputation. Although from the look on your face this does not surprise you.’
‘I feared it, but was persuaded otherwise. My knowledge of the clay industry is limited.’
‘By Henry, no doubt. Well, the risk is real. My meeting with Caradon Potteries didn’t go well. The porcelain made from some of our clay is not firing properly. They have had to throw away numerous batches. They are beginning to suspect it is our clay. I, like a fool, persuaded them otherwise.’
He turned off the road and headed towards Charleston Harbour.
‘You are going the wrong way. Henry’s cousin lives on the south side.’
‘We will see him later, first I have a shipment to stop.’
When they arrived at the harbour, Talek passed Grace the reins and jumped down to inspect the line of clay wagons waiting to be transferred to the waiting ship. He marched from one to the other, speaking briefly to the drivers before checking their loads. Two of the six wagons were sent back to Stenna Pit, with instructions that all the clay produced was to be stored in the linhay on site until he visited. He returned to the trap and climbed on board.
‘I want to kill Henry,’ he muttered under his breath. He reclaimed the reins from Grace with a shaking hand. ‘I’ll have to stop work at Stenna until I find a new buyer for the clay. The clay is only suitable for paper and earthenware, not porcelain. He must have cancelled our previous customer or they would be knocking at our door wondering where their shipments were.’ He turned the trap in the road, scattering the bystanders who had gathered to watch. It was not every day that a member of the gentry arrived at the busy industrial harbour to cancel their shipment.
‘This past year I’ve been preoccupied by Amelia’s accident. I placed my trust in Henry and this is how he has repaid me.’ He pinned Grace with an angry stare. ‘Amelia and I opened our home to you and you have repaid us by not alerting me to his fraudulent activities. You chose to protect him rather than those who helped you.’
His accusation was cutting, but fair. She fought the urge to reveal Amelia’s involvement, and that she had begged her to keep it from him, but what purpose would it serve, now? Talek was right. She had not told him of her discovery and it was unforgivable . . . yet she could not bear for him to think of her so badly.
‘I have only recently discovered the full extent.’ Her response was pathetic. She could not blame him for looking away. ‘You must despise me. I would if I was in your place.’
‘I despise myself, for trusting those around me,’ he muttered as he flicked the reins.
The remainder of the journey was made in silence, but for the occasional direction on Grace’s part. Finally they arrived at the grand house that had become Henry’s retreat.
Talek looked up at it as he wrapped the reins around the dashboard rail of the trap.
‘Have you been here before?’ asked Grace.
Talek shook his head, jumped down and helped her down from the trap. His hazel eyes held hers. ‘I have not had that pleasure.’ As soon as her feet touched the ground he withdrew his hand from hers.
‘My visits were fleeting, no more.’
‘But you felt the need to make more than one.’
Before she could reply, Talek strode to the door. Grace hastily followed.
‘This looks like a new house,’ observed Talek as they waited for it to be answered. ‘Have you met his cousin?’
‘I’ve seen her, but we have not spoken.’
‘His cousin is a woman?’ Talek sounded surprised. Suddenly, the door opened. Wicks, the housekeeper, greeted them.
