The simple words unlocked something deep inside him. All his resolve melted away as he wrapped his arms about her and held her tight. The soft warmth of her body gave him the comfort he craved. It was all here, in his arms. How had he found the will to send her away?
‘The last time I was with . . .’ Just saying her name was difficult today, but he would not let her existence be brushed away. He took a deep breath and tried again. ‘The last time I was with Amelia . . . well, it was not how I would want it to be if I had my time with her again.’
‘It rarely is, my darling,’ said Grace as she held him tight. ‘Those who can take comfort in their last moments with their loved ones are truly blessed, but it is not the normal way of things. Life is unplanned, at times chaotic. It rarely plays out how we want it to. She loved you and you loved her. And you both knew it. That is all that matters.’
The devil on his shoulder urged him to kiss her.Seek comfort in her body any way that you can. The time and place was highly inappropriate, yet he wanted to feel her lips beneath his as he had never wanted to feel a woman before. His will broke and he sought them, and to his relief Grace gave them freely. She tasted of peppermint and smelt of freshly cut flowers. He slid his hand over her tightly corseted waist, which offered fleeting hints of the tightly buttoned curves he was desperate toexplore. He wanted to feel her body beneath him. He wanted to taste her skin, savour the moment and claim every inch as his. The temptation to explore was becoming unbearable. With all the willpower he possessed, he held her at arm’s length. Her lips, kissed red and slightly swollen, were as bright as her emerald eyes and black passionate centres. He had the urge to draw her close again, but instead turned away.
‘I’m sorry.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘What must you think of me? Kissing you at my own sister’s funeral—’
‘Don’t cast me in the role of victim. The time and place may not have been appropriate, but I am as much to blame as you.’ He glanced at her, surprised. ‘I don’t regret our kiss. I hope you won’t either.’
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 haddiscussed 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?’
