Talek watched the faces from his carriage window. From the turnout his sister had been well loved, but he couldn’t help wondering if they thought it was a blessing she had died. These men and women would not be attending the service itself. They knew their place and the seats inside were reserved for Amelia’s friends and family, and not those she employed. Yet Talek could not help thinking their grief was as deep, if not deeper, than the friends who had abandoned her. These men and women had got to know her well when she was able-bodied, something Talek was only now learning to do.

The funeral service passed in a blur, the interment even more so. Talek caught glimpses of people he recognised, many were distant relatives, yet there were some faces he could not place at all. Where were all these people when Amelia sat at home alone? None took it upon themselves to visit her. Surprised, he realised, as he looked at their sombre faces, that he didn’t feel anger towards them any more. In fact he almost felt sorry for them as they had missed out on her company over the past year. In the society they lived in, disability of a young woman was hard to look upon and people did not know how to react. It was something to be ashamed of and hidden away. He had never felt ashamed of Amelia, only helpless that he could not make her better. He had failed her, as she had failed him in the end.

At the wake he circulated, thanking individuals for attending and talking fondly of his sister, whilst inside he felt a growing resentment for their presence once again. Nothing seemed to make sense to him. Searching for some respite from their sympathy, he went to his study. It was quiet and dark inside as the heavy drapes were still drawn in mourning. It seemed an absurd tradition. Amelia would have hated the sun and sky to be blocked out. He marched over to the drapes and flung each one back in turn, before opening the window and taking a deep shuddering breath. The cool air filled his lungs and made his head spin, forcing him to rest his hands on the wall for support until his head cleared. He bowed his head in deep thought. He felt rudderless. What was his purpose now? What was the aim of it all? First Margaret, then Grace, now his sister. They had all gone. Was he cursed? As if by some cruel joke, Grace’s voice came from the direction of the door.

‘I thought I was the only one to hide behind a curtain.’

Talek lifted his head to look at her. It was a poor attempt at a joke. He turned to find that she was not smiling either.

‘You don’t have the monopoly on the act. I thought I would give it a try and see how it would benefit me.’

‘And did it?’

Talek left the window and went to his desk. He picked up several letters and flicked through them. He saw Amelia’s. He knew its contents as he had read it over and over since finding it. He stared at her familiar writing, each curve and tail tugging at his heart.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss. I have only just heard about the accident and was unsure whether to come . . .’

Talek placed Amelia’s letter in a drawer, abruptly closed it and looked up. ‘Why?’

‘I didn’t want to upset you.’

‘I’m already upset.’ He saw her stiffen and realised he had spoken sharply. ‘I’m sorry. Today is not my best day.’

‘There’s no need to apologise.’

Her comforting voice reminded him of all that he’d lost. She was as beautiful as he remembered, the colour of her hair and eyes, accentuated by her black mourning clothes, reminded him of spun copper and emeralds. If she came too close he might just reach for her and hold her close. Guilt that he should have such thoughts at his own sister’s funeral left a bad taste in his mouth. He returned his attention back to the remaining letters on his desk.

‘I’m glad you came. I would’ve wondered why you hadn’t if you had stayed away. Have you had something to eat and drink? Do help yourself to the food on offer.’

An uneasy silence descended. His invitation sounded as hollow as he felt, after all who could eat and drink on a day like this? Yet in the next room his relatives and friends drank, ate and talked, while he hid in a room to mourn alone.

‘I have no appetite.’

Grace’s answer was somehow comforting. It meant that he was not the only one hurting today.

He glanced up at her. ‘You look well.’ It was the best compliment he could muster, although it was wholly inadequate for what he really thought.

‘You do not.’

He raised his eyebrow. ‘Don’t hold back on your thoughts.’

She looked down at her hands neatly cradled in front of her, then up at him again. She shrugged. ‘I promised myself I would never lie to you again.’

‘Amelia placed you in a difficult position.’ He dropped the remaining correspondence onto his desk unread. He knew he was fooling no one, least of all Grace. ‘Before she died she confessed her part in it. She said she told you that she knew about Henry’s fraud and that she promised you she would put a stop to it. I can understand you would have felt torn and unsure where your loyalties lay. You chose to protect my sister.’

Grace stepped forward. ‘I wanted to tell you. The last time we met I tried.’

He raised his hand. ‘Please, Grace, don’t be kind to me. I’m barely holding myself together right now.’

‘Then don’t. I’m here. Let me comfort you.’

He stepped away from her. ‘No. The Danning family has caused you a great deal of pain at a time when you had problems of your own. I’ve not been as understanding as I should and Amelia took advantage of you.’

Grace stepped forward. ‘That’s not true.’

He raised his hand again to halt her approach. ‘It is. Amelia lied to you too. Despite what she told you, she knew nothing of Henry’s contract. She pretended she did to protect him.’

Grace paused, her face ashen, her eyes filled with questions. He could guess what one of them was and answered it for her.

‘Amelia told me the day before she died. I’m sorry for my sister’s part in this mess. She placed you in a terrible dilemma.’

Grace walked toward him and cradled his face in her hands.

He wanted to be strong, but did not have the will to step away. Her soft soothing voice caressed his cheek as she drew closer.

‘It doesn’t matter.’

The simple words unlocked something deep inside him. All his resolve melted away as he wrapped his arms about her and held her tight. The soft warmth of her body gave him the comfort he craved. It was all here, in his arms. How had he found the will to send her away?

‘The last time I was with . . .’ Just saying her name was difficult today, but he would not let her existence be brushed away. He took a deep breath and tried again. ‘The last time I was with Amelia . . . well, it was not how I would want it to be if I had my time with her again.’

‘It rarely is, my darling,’ said Grace as she held him tight. ‘Those who can take comfort in their last moments with their loved ones are truly blessed, but it is not the normal way of things. Life is unplanned, at times chaotic. It rarely plays out how we want it to. She loved you and you loved her. And you both knew it. That is all that matters.’

The devil on his shoulder urged him to kiss her. Seek comfort in her body any way that you can. The time and place was highly inappropriate, yet he wanted to feel her lips beneath his as he had never wanted to feel a woman before. His will broke and he sought them, and to his relief Grace gave them freely. She tasted of peppermint and smelt of freshly cut flowers. He slid his hand over her tightly corseted waist, which offered fleeting hints of the tightly buttoned curves he was desperate to explore. He wanted to feel her body beneath him. He wanted to taste her skin, savour the moment and claim every inch as his. The temptation to explore was becoming unbearable. With all the willpower he possessed, he held her at arm’s length. Her lips, kissed red and slightly swollen, were as bright as her emerald eyes and black passionate centres. He had the urge to draw her close again, but instead turned away.

‘I’m sorry.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘What must you think of me? Kissing you at my own sister’s funeral—’

‘Don’t cast me in the role of victim. The time and place may not have been appropriate, but I am as much to blame as you.’ He glanced at her, surprised. ‘I don’t regret our kiss. I hope you won’t either.’

Talek straightened. He had seen this Grace Kellow once before, on the summit of Hel Tor when she had accused him of murder. This woman had disappeared for a time. She had lost confidence, doubted herself, been vulnerable to manipulation, but she had come through it and he respected her for it. It could not have been easy discovering secrets but unsure who to trust.

The door opened, startling them both. Margaret stood in the doorway.

‘Is this a bad time to talk? You said in your letter you wished to see me after the funeral.’

He nodded absently. Margaret’s sudden appearance surprised him. He hadn’t seen her at the funeral, but he had not seen Grace there either. The day was passing in a blur.

‘Yes. I mean no.’ He turned to Grace. From the look on her face, Margaret’s appearance had surprised her too. ‘We do need to talk. I’m sorry, Miss Kellow. If you’ll excuse us.’

Grace blinked. ‘Yes, of course. You must have a great deal to discuss.’ She looked at Margaret’s elegant figure, dressed in black, and back at him again. The brightness in her eyes had faded a little. He wanted to explain, but to do so, before he had discussed it with Margaret, would be impossible. ‘I just wanted to say goodbye and offer my condolences. It was good to see you again. I’m only sorry it was under such terrible circumstances.’

‘Yes.’

Grace glanced briefly at Margaret, before adding, ‘I wish you all the best for the future, Talek.’

Her goodbye sounded final and sterile.

‘And I you.’