Silk. PENNY JORDAN

ground, or even have their burial place marked.

      ‘I’m glad that it was you who told me, Jay.’

      ‘We should talk of happier things. I have brought you something that I hope will please you and give you some comfort,’ he told her with a smile. ‘Your grandmother has charged me with the task of cataloguing various items and papers she has kept over the years, and amongst them I found this.’

      As he spoke he was reaching into the attaché case he had placed on the leather-covered mahogany desk, and removing what looked like a thick sketchpad.

      As he handed it to her Amber’s hands shook.

      ‘I think this must have been your father’s.’

      Her senses were already recording the familiar scent of lavender water and tobacco mixed with graphite and paper coming from the pad even before she had seen her father’s signature across the front. Holding it tightly to her chest, she looked up at Jay, her eyes blurring with fresh tears.

      ‘Thank you, oh, thank you, Jay.’ And then she put the sketchpad down on the desk and hurled herself into his arms.

      This time he didn’t stop her, comforting her whilst she cried.

      ‘I shall never give up on my dream to do what my father wanted me to do,’ Amber told Jake passionately after he had released her and handed her a clean handkerchief.

      ‘So no handsome young man has touched your heart whilst you have been in London?’ Jake teased her.

      ‘No.’

      ‘Are you sure? Only your letters often mention a certain Lord Robert.’

      Amber wound his handkerchief between her fingers. ‘I do like him, and we are friends, but only friends. I saw him kissing another man, and I do know what that means. Love can be so frightening sometimes.’

      The words were out before she could stop them, causing her face to burn.

      ‘Yes,’ Jay agreed soberly. ‘It can.’ He paused and then added, ‘Such a love as Lord Robert’s, in this country at least, is against the law and punishable by imprisonment, and so it is rarely spoken of.’

      ‘I would not do so to anyone but you, Jay,’ Amber told him, sensing that he was giving her a warning. ‘Somehow I always feel I can tell you anything.’

      ‘I hope you will always feel like that.’

      They looked at one another in silence, and it was Amber who was the first to break it.

      ‘How long are you in London for?’

      ‘I return to Macclesfield today.’

      ‘So soon?’ Her heart sank.

      ‘Yes, in fact I must go now if I am to catch my train,’ he said, getting ready to leave.

      On impulse Amber turned to him. ‘You will keep writing to me, won’t you?’ When he made no response, she begged him urgently, ‘Please, Jay, you must. There is no one else I can trust. You are the only person who understands how I feel about … about things.’

      She meant about her parents and the way in which her dreams had been taken from her, Jay knew. His heart ached for her, and not just his heart. He closed his eyes. For both their sakes he should refuse her request. She was not a child any more and he didn’t know how much he could trust his ability to maintain the old easy relationship they had shared when she had been.