All throughout her care for the injured miner, Talek had not been far from her thoughts. She had been terrified for his safety and had never been more thankful than when she saw him walking down the hill, dirty and exhausted, but alive and well. She must not think of him. She wiped her eyes dry and shook her head.
‘No, I didn’t tell him.’
‘Why not?’
More tears threatened. Grace clenched her jaw to draw courage. She was determined not to break down. It must be the shock of the day making her feel so fragile.
‘Talek believes that Amelia is the only woman who has not betrayed him in recent years. I don’t want to hurt him further by telling him the truth. Besides, I have nothing to gain. He no longer cares for me so it is best for all concerned to keep silent on the matter.’
‘Did he say he didn’t care for you?’ asked her father as he took her hand in his. His warmth and protection reminded her of the times when she was a child and he had lifted her in his arms after a fall. It had the power to drain the tension from her body and soothe her wounds. It did so now as she relaxed against him. He lifted his arm and wrapped it about her. Her defences melted away along with the sob that rose up inside her. This time she did not stop it.
‘He did not need to say it,’ she sobbed.
‘Then you can’t know that for sure.’
Her father’s arms tightened about her. Her body, raw, tender and as weak as a kitten, allowed her father’s solid frame to shield her.
‘I do. I saw it in his eyes.’
Chapter Twenty
The evening sun hung heavy on the horizon, scorching the sky blood red as if it had been slashed with a sword. Talek returned to Roseland on foot. It suited him to walk and gave him some precious time to be alone before his sister’s persistent questions and the staffs’ inquisitive glances and gossip.
His thoughts were full of the new widow’s grief. She had cried like a wounded animal when he had informed her of her husband’s death. It was heart-wrenching to witness, but he had stayed until she had quietened and someone else had arrived to stay with her. He had given his reassurance that she would be financially well cared for in the immediate future, but he had known, as he had spoken the words, that his generosity would be inadequate for the pain she was suffering now. No amount of money could take that away.
The edges of the blood red sky began to take on a golden sheen as the sun rested on the horizon in the distance. The ball of fire was untouched by the grief of the village, a grief that Talek felt utterly responsible for, despite the young widow’s later reassurances he was not. The logical side of him agreed with her. Heavy downpours and storms were part of Cornwall’s changeable weather, just as the setting sun was now. It was not unusual to have the sun beating down in the morning and, by the end of the day, heavy rain causing rivers to rise dangerously high. If mining stopped every time it rained then it would cut the production of clay by half and leave men without the means to put food on the table. Yet — if only he had inspected the pit when he had first arrived at the site, he may have decided to close it. A seemingly inconsequential decision to walk one way rather than the other had resulted in a man’s death. It would be a decision he would regret for the rest of his life.
After his visit to the widow, he had sought the injured miner out. He found him in his little terraced house, resting on a makeshift bed by a fire and dozing like a drunkard. It seemed Doctor Borlase’s little brown bottle had already worked its magic to dull the miner’s pain.
‘Is it broken?’ Talek asked the miner’s wife as she frantically tidied the room around him.
‘Dislocated,’ she said, flustered and hiding a pair of muddy boots under a blanket, ‘but Doctor Borlase says it will mend well.’
Talek watched her pick up a plate and hurry from the room, returning almost immediately. Her eyes darted about the cottage for something else to clear. He realised his visit was unsettling her rather than providing comfort and he should cut it short. It was not every day the mine owner came into their home and it had set her on edge at a time she had more pressing worries.
‘I won’t stay,’ he said. Her relief was immediate. ‘I just wanted to let you know that you needn’t worry about your rent. I will provide for you financially until Michael is able to work again.’ How he would manage it if the business did not recover from Henry’s actions he did not know, but that problem would not be this family’s concern.
The miner’s wife was grateful and hurriedly showed him to the door, thanking him profusely as she did so.
‘Please thank Miss Kellow and her father for me,’ she added as Talek inclined his head goodbye. ‘Miss Kellow was so kind and calm. I don’t know how I would have coped if she had not been here.’
Talek forced a smile. He could not promise to pass on her thanks and would not lie to her now. Instead he had inclined his head, although this time a little more stiffly.
‘I’m sure you would have coped.’ He offered her a stiff smile. ‘Goodnight.’
The door of Roseland opened as he approached. His servants were well trained or they had heard and were looking out for him, whatever the reason, he realised he didn’t care. He asked for his sister and was informed she was in the drawing room. To the servant’s surprise, he went straight there.
Amelia’s horrified expression, when he entered, caused him to look down at his clothes and hands. They were still covered in clay soil, which had begun to dry and crack, tightening the fabric and the skin on his hands. How had he not noticed before? He looked behind him at the trail of mud he had left on their carpet.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve made a mess.’ The apology, which was both inadequate and explained nothing, sounded strange to his ears, but what else was there to say? How does one start to explain the events that had just unfolded?
‘It doesn’t matter,’ reassured his sister.
‘I must have looked a pretty sight as I walked through the village.’
‘It is nothing that a bath cannot sort out.’
‘Yes, a bath. If only everything could be so easily sorted.’ He summoned a servant. The housekeeper immediately appeared at the door. ‘Prepare the bath for me. And a clean set of clothes.’ He thought of Grace and added, ‘Thank you.’ He waited for her to leave. ‘Have you heard?’ He knew, from his sister’s pained expression that she had. Word spread quickly amongst the clay community. The staff was looking out for his arrival after all.
‘Yes. Was it very terrible?’
‘For me? I will survive. One man did not. Save your sympathy for his family.’ He remained where he stood. Too dirty to sit. Too dirty to pace. Impotent. Incompetent. In shock.
‘They said the landslide could not have been predicted.’
His sister meant well.
‘I may have been able to predict it if I had bothered to look.’
‘The Cornish weather is changeable. If we closed the pit every time it rained, it would be closed half the year. Landslides are not common. You couldn’t have known.’
It helped a little to hear his sister repeat what the logical part of his brain had voiced — but only a little.
‘Thank God they are not.’ Amelia opened her mouth to speak, but Talek stopped her by raising his hand. ‘Please, Amelia. Don’t be nice. I’m hanging on by a thread at the moment. Perhaps later, after a bath, I will feel up to discussing it further.’
Silence descended, Amelia uncertain what to say and he too weary to try. His mind wandered back to digging for bodies and the relief he had felt to discover Billy was still alive. The boy had been a breath away from death — as he had himself only moments later. He felt a wave of nausea pass through his body at the thought.
‘Did Grace find you?’
