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.’
A slight sad smile curved her lips. It was as if she knew he could find no more words to say. She bowed her head slightly in understanding, before sweeping past Margaret and out of the room.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‘It’s time you had a break.’ Aunt Molly’s accusing eyes peered at Grace between the large wheels of cheese. Grace sighed. She thought the towers of maturing cheese would be a good place to hide. Earlier her mother had tried to persuade her to stop working, but Grace had insisted on doing a stock check instead.
‘Did Mother send you?’
‘It doesn’t matter if she did. I was thinking of saying it anyway.’
Grace continued counting the cheese as she walked down the pungent smelling aisle. Her aunt’s hurried footsteps followed her on the other side of the shelf until her face reappeared between another row.
‘Grace—’
Grace ignored her pleading tone. ‘I don’t need a break.’
She heard Molly snort and march briskly down to the end of the aisle and enter hers. Grace did a U-turn to walk in the other direction, but her aunt could be surprisingly speedy when she wanted to be. She reached over Grace’s shoulder and grabbed the stock book from her hands. Her aunt hugged it triumphantly to her chest as if she had been planning on stealing it all morning. Grace recalled the previous hour and realised she probably had. It would explain her aunt’s odd behaviour.
‘You have been working like a man possessed for weeks now.’
Grace folded her arms. ‘I’m a woman. A woman can work as if possessed too.’
Aunt Molly waved her hand as if the comment was irrelevant. ‘You do remember you are one then. The other day I saw you loading the wagon.’
‘A woman can load a wagon as well as a man.’
Molly was horrified. ‘Of course they can, but women are too wise to do it. Why get all sweaty doing the heavy work when men are happy to do it?’
Grace shrugged. ‘I like to keep myself busy.’
‘You will wear yourself out if you continue like this. You are working longer hours than Daniel and no one does that.’
‘Until now.’ Grace reached for the stock book, but Molly slipped it behind her back.
‘Take the afternoon off. Go for a walk. You used to love roaming the moors.’
‘That was then, this is now.’
‘And what is the difference?’ Molly shook her head sadly. ‘You think you are fooling us all by working so hard, but you are fooling no one. It’s because you’ve not heard from Talek and you are missing him.’ Molly hooked her arm through hers. ‘Everyone needs a break and I insist you take one now. Come on. Get outside and take in some fresh air.’
They fell into step as she slowly escorted her out of the curing room. They met Widow Smyth, who smiled before hurrying about her work.
‘She doesn’t know that you were the one who used to leave her food and secured her a job here. You should tell her,’ whispered Molly after she had passed.
Grace shook her head. ‘I don’t need her thanks. Seeing her supporting her family and mixing with others is all the thanks I need.’
Her aunt gave Grace’s arm a little squeeze. ‘I hate to see you sad, but we do all understand. You are not the first to fall in love and end up hurt.’
There was no point denying it. Her aunt always had a way of seeing through her, just like her mother. Was she so transparent? His silence could only mean one thing, that he had rekindled his relationship with Margaret.
‘He met the widow of his business partner at Amelia’s funeral. She will be in need of his protection and guidance. He used to love her. I think he will again . . .’
‘You cannot know that for sure.’
‘As Henry’s widow she will inherit his shares. Amelia’s death means that they will be joint owners of Celtic Clay now. She is beautiful, Molly. They will have to meet often. It is only a matter of time before Talek falls in love with her again . . . that is if he ever fell out of love with her in the first place.’
‘So what if he does? Let them live their life surrounded by clay. You will fall in love again one day.’ Molly turned Grace to face her and slipped one of her stray curls behind her ear. ‘How could a man not fall in love with this pretty face and warm heart?’
They exchanged sad smiles and resumed their walk to the door.
