Grace’s hope rose. ‘You do?’
‘Yes. I have something to tell you.’
Tell, not ask. Her heart sank. His visit was not some great romantic proposal after all. She hadn’t realised she hoped it was — until now. It suddenly dawned on her what he was about to say. Best she said it first.
‘You are going to marry Margaret.’
Talek’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained unreadable. ‘Would that news upset you?’
‘I promised I would not lie to you again. It’s a promise I’m already regretting as I could save face and pretend I don’t care.’ Grace brushed her windswept hair from her face, acutely aware Talek was calmly watching her. He remained unruffled, whereas she was feeling as skittish as a colt. ‘Yes,’ she said, quietly. ‘It would upset me very much.’
Her words hung between them like underwear strung out on an old washing line. Her feelings for him — her vulnerability — exposed for him to see and judge how he would wish.
‘Then I’m pleased to not upset you,’ said Talek. A faint smile curved his lips, so faint she was unsure if it was there at all.
‘You are not getting married?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ He must have seen the confusion on her face as he added, ‘I meant I am not marrying Margaret. I’m sure I will marry eventually. Most men are expected to.’ He took a step closer. ‘Why would you think I would want to marry Margaret?’
‘She said you asked to see her after the funeral.’
‘I did, but I did not expect her to turn up on the day. There is a time and place for everything and Amelia’s wake was not one of them.’
Grace thought of the last time she had seen Talek, they had sought comfort in each other’s arms at his sister’s wake. Was he telling her that he was regretting their passionate kiss too?
‘But she came all the same,’ said Grace more sharply than she intended. ‘She must have wanted to see you too, very much, to show up there.’
‘Margaret is an impulsive woman.’
Grace fell silent. Did men find impulsive women attractive? Is that why he invited Margaret to visit? Talek frowned as he watched her. Could he read her thoughts? It seemed that sometimes he could.
‘You are wondering why I asked to see her?’
Grace nodded stiffly. They both knew that Talek did not need to explain anything to her, but he did so all the same. And she was grateful for that.
‘I had a proposition for her. As Henry’s wife, she was about to inherit his shares and I wanted to buy them from her. I hoped she would rather have a lump sum now and accept the proposition.’
‘And did she?’
‘Yes. It would not have been a good working relationship so it was better to have a clean break.’
The tension in Grace’s shoulders eased. ‘So now you own all of Celtic Clay?’
‘Yes. As Amelia’s next of kin her share is now mine. I had to sell Stenna Pit to buy Margaret out, but the name, Celtic Clay, still belongs to me.’
‘And have you heard from the potteries?’
‘They are happy with the new batch I’ve sent them. I’ve had to pay them compensation, but the amount they agreed to was reasonable.’
Talek had been busy. It must have taken great planning, negotiation and time to do so much while he still laboured with the grief for his sister. She wanted to tell him all this, show she understood, but what good would it serve now?
‘I’m pleased for you. You deserve some good news after all you have suffered.’ They fell silent. His hazel eyes had not left her face and she wondered if there was something else he wanted to tell her. If there wasn’t, if this was all his visit was about, best he left now and leave her to recover. It was too painful to stand so close to him, yet feel a chasm apart. ‘Is this what you wanted me to know?’
‘Yes, in part. I also wanted to see you to say . . . I mean, I wanted you to know . . . that I understand why you didn’t tell me about Henry.’ He came to stand beside her, his hands thrust deep into his pockets as he studied the horizon. ‘I’d understood why you chose to protect Amelia as she had put you in a difficult position, but now I understand on a far deeper level why you chose her . . . over me.’
‘I never wanted it to be a choice between you.’
‘But that is what it came down to. I shouldn’t be surprised what your final decision was. I did not make things easy for you, however it didn’t lessen the pain when I eventually found out.’ He half-laughed to himself. ‘God I must sound pitiful to you.’
‘No! Never pitiful.’ She wanted to touch his arm, a gesture of reassurance, but he held her at bay with a raised hand.
‘It’s alright, Grace. I know you protected Amelia because she was the more vulnerable of us all. I understand that now . . . because I’ve lied for the same reason.’
Grace waited for him to explain. He needed no prompting, only time.
Talek thrust his hands in his pockets again. ‘Her death was reported as a tragic accident, but it wasn’t.’ He breathed in deeply, as if preparing himself for what was to follow. ‘Amelia drove the trap off the cliff intentionally with the aim of killing Henry. She believed it would solve all my problems and be a fitting revenge for her.’
It sounded outlandish. Sweet, fragile Amelia a murderer? Yet Talek had sounded so sure.
‘How do you know this?’
Talek met her gaze. ‘She left me a letter which explained her intentions and why she was doing it. I found it on the day she died and immediately went out to look for them, but by then it was too late.’ He returned his attention to the horizon. ‘I have read her letter a thousand times since, but re-reading it does not change the fact that she killed a man. I’ve burnt it now. I could not risk the truth coming out.’
‘Oh, Talek, I am so sorry.’
‘I’m telling you this in confidence, Grace. I would rather it was believed to be a tragic accident.’ His lips curved in an ironic smile. ‘Suicide and murder have a certain stigma attached to them and I want to protect her reputation, even in death. As I watched her letter burn in the grate, I realised I was lying to the world in my attempt to hide the truth and protect Amelia. And I finally understood why you did what you did. You wanted to protect her just as I was doing even if it meant living the rest of your life with the burden of a lie.’ He smiled at her. ‘We are like two peas in a pod, you and I.’
His attempt at humour only showed her the depth of his sadness. It was so unlike him to repeat such a phrase, plucked out from the ether to cover his pain. Her heart went out to him.
