Tommy jerked his head towards the moon-like surface beneath them. ‘Weather’s been bad. Never seen ground so wet.’
‘The storm has passed. It will take a few days, but it will dry again.’
‘I’ve seen storms before. And ’tis true, this one wasn’t as bad as some, but I feel uneasy, Captain. My bones don’t feel right.’
‘Do you want to go home?’
‘Nay. I ’ave not taken ill. Just uneasy. Like there is another storm coming.’
‘I hope not. I have had enough troubles and could do with a rest from them.’
Billy arrived, panting. ‘Captain, Miss Kellow is here to see you.’
Talek frowned. He looked over Billy’s head and saw Grace approaching. His weary body surged into life at the sight of her.
‘She is waiting by the kilns.’
‘No she’s not,’ said Talek. Billy followed his gaze over his shoulder, horrified. ‘Unfortunately, Miss Kellow is stubborn and has followed you here,’ added Talek.
Billy slipped his cap from his head and began to wring it in his hands. ‘I didn’t know, Cap’n. I told her to wait.’
‘I don’t blame you, boy. She has a mind of her own.’
He noticed that the steep track had taken its toll on her dress, as her hem and boots were stained with white powder and mud, but she did not seem to care.
Billy ran to meet her. ‘This area is dangerous, miss. You should have stayed at the bottom by the kilns.’
‘Leave her.’ Talek turned to Tommy. ‘Take the boy away before he bursts into tears.’
He watched them leave before returning his attention back to Grace. She finally arrived, breathless and her hair tousled from the exertion, as if, he thought, she had been thoroughly kissed by a feverish lover. The realisation that another man would one day have that pleasure sharpened his tongue and he addressed her more harshly than he intended.
‘Who brought you here?’
‘My father.’
‘Then he should have known better. This site is dangerous.’
Empty wagons rattled along their narrow tracks in the distance, like a distant tribe beating out a warning message.
‘I went to Roseland first,’ said Grace, dropping her hem. ‘Amelia told me you were here. My father is returning in an hour to take me home.’
He should be pleased she had come to seek him out, but seeing her again, with her copper hair curling about her pale neck and her wide green eyes searching his to gauge his mood, only reminded him of all he had lost.
‘I thought I had made myself plain. I didn’t wish to see you again.’
Grace surveyed the scene below them. ‘Yes, you made it very plain. And I did what you asked me to, I left.’ She looked up at him. ‘But now I’m back. We need to talk.’
He had always thought her eyes were green, but now, standing only a breath away, he could see that there was more depth to them. Dark brown feathers radiated from the black centre to merge with the emerald green he had come to adore. Even now, when it no longer mattered, he was discovering new things about her.
‘You may need to talk, Miss Kellow, but I don’t. I needed loyalty, truthfulness and reliability from you . . . all of which you are incapable of giving.’
He saw her flinch, but she did not drop her gaze. Begrudgingly, he found himself respecting her for it.
‘I gave all of those, just to the wrong person. Yet if I had to do it all again, I’m not sure if I would have done it any differently. Talek, you must hear me out.’
‘Imust?’
A soft tremor vibrated through his boots. A row of wagons carrying spoil were travelling along one of the narrow tracks.
