‘Don’t try to soothe me with endearments.’
‘Look at me, Talek.’
‘Why? So I can see my failure in your eyes? I do not need your pity.’
She put a comforting hand on his back. Her touch was too much to take. He turned, grasped her hand and drew it behind his back, drawing her close.
‘Tell me,’ he asked, hoarsely, ‘why you didn’t tell me as soon as you knew.’
His grip tightened slightly, but she did not flinch.
‘I already told you. At first I thought I had made a mistake.’
Her answer only raised more questions. He frowned, confused.
‘Do you consider me such an ogre that you could not discuss it with me?’
‘The way we met, the circumstances of my arrival . . . you did not hold a good opinion of me.’
‘I don’t see the connection.’
‘I wanted you to think well of me.’
He wanted to believe her. It would mean that she cared for his opinion.
‘But then you realised it was not a mistake on your part. Why didn’t you tell me then?’
‘I wanted to.’
It was not the reply he wanted to hear. A desire without action meant nothing. He drew her still closer, until she was forced to place her hand on his chest. They had not touched like this since he had kissed her. He had taken their embrace no further as he was a gentleman. Anger at the injustice all around him, where a man can act so despicably and walk away unscathed, where a woman can humiliate her fiancé and live without recriminations, where a man can love a woman to distraction and she not trust his love to share her deepest concerns. He drew Grace closer still, until he could feel the rise and fall of her breasts against his chest. She did not try to pull away. He wanted her to feel what he was feeling — to see his pain reflected in her eyes. He lifted her chin to look into her eyes.
‘But you didn’t tell me.’
Her taut body softened against him. ‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘I wanted Henry to tell you.’
‘Your decision gave him the chance to flee.’
She lifted her chin from his touch. ‘I didn’t know he would do that.’
He stepped back from her, her hand still locked in his grasp. ‘While he courted Amelia, you sat back and did not raise your concerns with me. You allowed him access to my vulnerable sister, knowing what he was doing behind our backs.’
‘That’s not true!’ Grace jerked her arm away and stepped back, her face beautifully radiant with the indignation. He was glad her sympathy had turned to fire. This he could face.
‘I asked you to marry me, but you are no different to Margaret. You are just as deceitful.’
‘Henry deceived you. The blame should be laid at his door, not mine.’
He watched Grace crouch on the floor and begin to pick up the mess he had made. He had the urge to warn her not to cut herself on the broken glass, but stamped it down.
‘Leave it. The servants can clear it.’ Grace ignored him. ‘I’m under no illusion of Henry’s part in this,’ he said to her bowed head, ‘but you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t lay all the blame on him. He succeeded because those around him remained silent. The workers he involved were, at best ignorant, at worst under orders and fearful for their jobs. If Margaret knew, she is his wife and duty bound to stand by him, although I suspect she is oblivious to his dealings. She never showed any interest in the clay industry as long as her comforts were met. I see no reason why she should have changed now.’ Grace stood and placed some of the fallen objects onto his desk. ‘However, I cannot so easily accept the role my fiancée played.’ Grace remained calm. It was as if she knew he needed to voice his anger and frustration and was prepared to wait and take it until he fell silent with exhaustion. He both admired and hated her strength. ‘I’m talking about you. I loved you. I thought you loved me or at least would have come to love me. Yet you kept silent and did not warn me.’
‘I did love you and still do.’
‘Then why?’
Her steady defiant gaze was faltering. Unease coiled in his stomach. She was holding something back.
‘I’ve told you why I did not tell you.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ Her soft pink lips, which were normally so inviting, tightened under his gaze. ‘You are keeping something from me.’ Grace looked away. Her movement sealed any doubts he had about her. ‘The sad thing is, does it really matter any more?’ For the first time he saw uncertainty in her eyes. ‘My sister is vulnerable and I need to know that the people around her can be trusted. Unfortunately, I no longer trust you.’ Her eyes began to glisten. ‘I think you should leave.’ Finally he could see his pain in her eyes. It should please him to know she hurt too, but it did not.
He turned away. ‘I want you to leave today.’
‘So soon?’ asked Grace, quietly.
He braced himself. ‘There is no point in trying to nurture something back to life that is dead.’
He heard the rustle of her dress as she turned to go. He needed her to leave today, quickly, before he changed his mind.
He closed his eyes. The door opened and he heard her walk away. She had not asked to stay, and it was only then, when he finally found himself in the solitude he had earlier sought, that he hoped that she might.
* * *
Grace thanked the driver and climbed down from the trap. Amelia had insisted on providing her transport and Talek had neither agreed nor refused her request. Grace wasn’t sure what hurt her the most, that Talek had not wanted to ensure her safe arrival home or his apparent indifference how she left. He had remained in his study and Grace felt his excision of her from his life had already begun.
