‘Indeed it is, and I welcome your concern, truly I do. However, I can reassure you that my adventure has not resulted in my brother being angry with you. Are you, Talek?’
‘Anger is not the word I would use,’ replied Talek, solemnly.
Winter’s brows pinched together in concern at his tone.
‘Take no notice of him,’ Amelia reassured the housekeeper. ‘Please prepare the blue bedroom. We have a guest for the night.’ She sheepishly glanced at Grace. ‘Although I hope she will consider staying a little longer. I do not venture out very often and would enjoy the company.’
Talek stepped down from the carriage and offered his hand to Grace. Grace was about to decline his help and his sister’s invitation to stay longer, when she noticed the young lad emerge through the open doors of the house. He appeared to be moving a chair. The sight piqued her interest, but Talek was waiting, so she took his hand and stepped down so she could continue to watch the boy in the distance. He carefully navigated the furniture down the small number of steps leading to the gravel path and approached the carriage, pushing it ahead of him. As he drew nearer, Grace could see that it was an Indian reed chair, with large wheels and a cumbersome footrest just waiting for an invalid to place their feet upon it. It dawned on Grace who it was for. She looked at Amelia in horror.
‘You thought I’d killed my sister,’ Mr Danning reminded her quietly. ‘The truth is I was carrying Amelia because she cannot walk. A year ago her back was broken in a carriage accident. The horse bolted and the carriage overturned down an embankment. It took me two days to find her.’
Grace only realised her hand was still resting in his when he quickly withdrew it to assist his sister. Talek lifted Amelia down from the carriage and helped to make her comfortable in the high-backed chair. Grace was grateful for the diversion as it allowed her a moment to recover from the shocking news. WhenAmelia was satisfied with the placement of her legs and blanket, the housekeeper took over the control of the chair and pushed it carefully back to the house. Even so, despite the housekeeper’s care, Amelia’s head jolted against the weaves of wicker with each jutting stone in the path.
Grace’s eyes smarted with emotion. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered when she was sure she was out of the young woman’s earshot.
‘Sorry for what, Miss Kellow?’ enquired Talek. ‘Sorry that the horse easily startled? Or that the driver possessed the horsemanship of a child and could not control it? Or sorry that I didn’t find her sooner, so she did not have to endure the company of her dead travelling companions . . . her closest friends, a minute longer than was necessary?’
There was something in his tone that caught at her heart and dragged her attention away from Amelia. For the first time she saw vulnerability in the depths of his eyes. Her heart, which had been numb since yesterday, began to ach painfully between her breasts. He had been talking of his own regrets, under the guise of attempting to guess hers.
‘I’m sorry that time cannot be turned back. So much pain could be avoided if it was possible.’
His gaze lifted to her hair. ‘And what pain do you bear, Miss Kellow? We both know you’ve not been ill recently.’
Grace carefully replaced the shawl about her head. ‘None that I wish to share,’ she replied, before following in the wake of Amelia’s wheelchair as it headed towards the house.
* * *
Talek didn’t expect to revisit Bosvenna Manor again so soon, but a visit to Kellow Dairy had redirected his search to the derelict manor and overgrown grounds. He had felt duty bound to inform Miss Kellow’s father of her whereabouts, despite herinsistence that there was no need. Talek played out the charade of accepting her reassurances, but unknown to her, as soon as their evening meal had finished, he had strode out to his stables and saddled his horse, much to the bemusement of the stable boy looking on.
‘Where are you going, sir?’ the lad had asked.
‘To Kellow Dairy on Bodmin Moor. I wish to speak to its owner.’
The decision to see Mr Kellow was an easy one as Talek knew that if, one day, he was fortunate enough to have a daughter, he would want to know if she had not reached her intended destination.
Kellow Dairy was deserted when he finally arrived. It was closed for the night, silent as if in slumber until the early hours when it would, once again, burst into life. However, despite the late hour, the farmhouse remained brightly lit. Securing his horse in the yard, he went to the front door. In mid knock, the door flung open. Miss Kellow’s distraught mother greeted him. His reassurances of her daughter’s safety went some way into pacifying her so he was able to step over the threshold. Her trust in him was quickly explained. It turned out that her husband had spoken highly of him, unlike her daughter. Mrs Kellow was horrified at her slip of the tongue. Talek instantly forgave her. She was fragile in her distress and had spoken without thought. Yet, he had to admit, the insight into her daughter’s opinion of him wounded his pride more than he cared to admit.
He was informed that Mr Kellow was still looking for his daughter and had spent most of the day scouting the moors. As the last shards of sunlight extinguished below the horizon, his search had turned closer to home and now concentrated on the Bosvenna Estate. Talek immediately offered to find him and tell him that his daughter was safe. Any decent man would have done the same, he told himself as he set off, although he couldn’tignore the more basic desire to keep the good opinion of Miss Kellow’s parents.
Talek dismounted and looked up at the old building, which was barely visible against the inky black sky. He hadn’t expected to revisit the derelict building again, but it now appeared that Miss Kellow had lied. It had only taken a little questioning of her mother to discover that Miss Kellow did not have a well thought out travelling plan. She’d run away, leaving no forwarding address and only a brief note of explanation. Her parents were devastated by her sudden departure. What sort of woman could behave so callously? Yet, the woman must have had a good reason to leave a family who clearly loved her. Unless, of course, she was mentally unstable which would explain why she had taken a pair of scissors to her best asset. Her hair had been the first thing he had noticed about her on Hel Tor. It was hair that would be hard to ignore. Its fine strands of copper and gold had shimmered in the sunlight forming a crown of glory that any woman would cherish. Not Miss Kellow, it seemed, although, he reluctantly admitted, it was not her only asset. In fact, the woman had quite a few.
Talek braced his shoulders and reminded himself that she was also impulsive, untrustworthy and secretive and he could not help wondering what other secrets she had to hide. His eyes searched the dark windows. Her parents thought she might be here. He wondered what draw the ruin had that she would prefer its damp rooms than the comfort of her own home. He saw a man approaching, holding a lamp to light his way. He had found Daniel Kellow, or rather Daniel Kellow had found him.
* * *
Talek stared at the ornate brass handle of his desk drawer over the steeple of his fingers. It was unlike him to sit at his deskdoing nothing, whiling away precious time better spent on the affairs of Bothick Mine.
Sometimes he would go for weeks without thinking of her, yet there were moments when her memory would rise up and grab his heart in a painful grip, paralysing his thoughts and draining his motivation to succeed.
Today was such a day, brought on, he suspected, by having a young woman beneath his roof who was neither a blood relative or out of the marrying age range. He reached for the handle and pulled slowly. The rosewood drawer slid out easily, its pleasing sound and grace marked the quality of its craftsmanship. Margaret’s wedding ring lay where he had last placed it, resting on the cushioned base of the small box inside. The top of the box lay beside it, its hinge lying flaccid, its spine broken from when he had thrown it in a rage. His heart constricted at the sight of the ring. The gold band, which had never been worn, was a symbol of a lost dream — a home filled with laughter, love and children that resembled their beautiful raven-haired mother. Margaret, who had been older than him by four years, was the love of his life. As a young man he was intrigued by her. Her maturity, her allure and her beauty had snared him from the very beginning and he instantly fell for her harder than any sane man should. She’d bewitched him and he’d enjoyed being under her spell until that fateful day when he was woken from his dreamlike state and humiliated in front of his family and friends.
He withdrew a framed photograph and stood it on the desk, turning it slightly so the sun’s soft morning rays didn’t conceal the detail. The portrait, taken at Talford Photographic Studio in Launceston, was arranged to commemorate their engagement. Their expressions were serious, as befitting the formal occasion, but it didn’t tell the whole story. Moments before, they’d been laughing together, a young couple in love and eager to be wed. It was a happy memory, a brief respite from the business thatdominated his time as he struggled to understand it and make it more profitable. He smiled at the memory. Margaret had always made their time together moments never to forget. Two months later, she was gone and he was left numb with the shock. He thought he was getting over her and finally dealing with the grief of losing the future he thought he was going to have, but his melancholy mood told him he must be wrong. He blamed Miss Kellow’s presence for stirring up old memories. Memories that still felt raw and had helped shape the man he was today.
Talek replaced the photograph face down in the drawer and briskly closed it. He pushed himself out of his seat to go in search of Miss Kellow. He had indulged in his regrets far too long and he had more pressing matters to attend to. He’d promised Miss Kellow’s father that he would offer his daughter a position, a ploy to keep her safe until she had a change of heart and returned to Kellow Dairy. Her father hoped it wouldn’t be more than a few days and was willing to pay her wage for the fabricated vacancy. Talek, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure she would return to her family that soon, or even accept his proposition. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to offer it, despite agreeing to do so, yet what choice did he have? He could hardly stand back and allow her to set off to a destination that neither her parents could name and with limited funds in her purse. It wasn’t safe for a woman to travel unaccompanied, especially a woman who couldn’t make head or tail of a simple train timetable.
He found his sister and Miss Kellow outside, sharing a pot of tea in the shade of the white blooms of his late father’s dogwood tree. He paused to watch them. Amelia was more animated than he had seen her in a long time and her normally pale complexion held a healthy glow. He could see that his sister was enjoying entertaining a guest near her own age. It was a pastime she had missed. Since her accident, visits from oldfriends and acquaintances had fallen away at alarming speed. He found it difficult to forgive them, although he grudgingly understood. Amelia was vibrant and fun company, but now they only saw a cripple to be endured, or in most cases, not even that. Her friends didn’t want their social life curtailed by Amelia’s disability, as if standing next to her somehow reflected upon them. Ludicrous and untrue, yet they could not be tempted to return. To them, she represented everything they did not want to be reminded of, so they soon left her alone — isolated and abandoned in her brother’s sole care. Regret stirred him that he hadn’t done a better job of looking after her welfare. At the time of her accident, he was learning how to recover from losing the only woman he had ever loved. He realised now, as he watched Amelia smiling, that he’d neglected his sister in more ways than she deserved. He had ensured her physical care was tended to, even looked at a crumbling house with the intention of granting a passing whim for a view, but had neglected the woman inside.
He recalled the way Miss Kellow had comforted his sister during the carriage ride. He should have employed a companion before now and, perhaps, employing Miss Kellow was not such a bad idea after all. But how would he persuade her, when he would find it hard to conceal his own feelings of wariness toward her? He could not help but feel concerned that the same impulsive behaviour she had shown when she had cut her hair, could just as easily be a bad influence on his sister. The same disregard for other people’s feelings that she had exhibited when she had fled her family home, could be turned on his sister. The same poor judgement, when she had accused him of murder, God forbid where that would lead . . .
