by Ruth Owen
It was easier to agree than argue. “All right, but just for a few minutes,” she conceded, closing the office door behind her.
The “fresh air” outside proved to be anything but. Heavy with smoke and coal dust, it clogged Rina’s throat and burned her eyes. She walked around the back of the building, away from the wind and smoke. She was blinking so hard against the sooty air that she ran straight into one of the miners. “Oh, forgive me. This dreadful smoke makes it difficult to see one’s nose in front of them.”
“Even when one’s nose be a tremendous hooter like mine?”
Sabrina’s eyes shot open. She found herself looking into a familiar pair of lively blue eyes.
“Quinn!” Forgetting her weariness, Rina wrapped him in an impulsive hug. “‘Tis so wonderful to see you. I’ve missed you so terribly.”
“Well, you’ll miss me more if’n you squeeze the life out of me. Lord love you, gel, what if someone sees us?”
“Oh, you’re right,” she said, pulling away. She glanced from side to side, but luckily the yard behind the building was blessedly deserted. “You must go. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I shouldn’t be here?” He crossed his arms across his chest, his eyes snapping fire. “And who was it who left myself and the two fastest steppers in the county cooling our hooves and heels by the Ravenshold gate?”
Rina stared as if he’d lost his mind. “But I was needed here. The nursing skills Mother taught me have helped save a half dozen lives tonight.”
“And what about our lives? You’ve missed a prime chance at the Dutchman, and might just have queered everything we’ve worked for.”
“I know, but I had no choice. These people needed my help.”
“These people would turn you in quicker than you can spit if they knew you were only a gambler’s daughter.” He rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowing. “And I’m thinking maybe you’ve forgotten who you really are.”
Sabrina looked past Quinn’s shoulder, to where the dying moon hung low and heavy in the western sky. She could still feel the searing heat of Edward’s mouth on hers, could still hear the deep baritone that turned her blood to fire. Could still hear the name on his lips that was not her own. “No, Quinn. I have not forgotten.”
Her answer seemed to satisfy her partner, for his mouth softened a tick and his eyes lost their angry glare. “I suppose I couldn’t have expected Katie Poole’s daughter to turn her back on folks in trouble,” he sighed. “We’ll just have to make another go at the sparklers. And we’ll have to look sharp about it. My mates in Ireland tell me there was a bloke sniffin’ around for news of your past.”
Sabrina nodded. “I know. It was Lord Trevelyan’s solicitor, Mr. Cherry.”
“Cherry,” Quinn mused as he scratched his temple. “I don’t rightly recollect that being the name.”
“Then it must have been someone who worked for him. But whoever it was, they didn’t find out anything. They all believe beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am Prudence Winthrope. In fact, the earl has given me a thousand pounds.”
Quinn sucked in his breath. “A thousand pounds! Well, that’s a horse of a different color and no mistake. Seems as if you’ve done fine at foxing the swells, my girl. Your da would be proud of ya.”
Sabrina looked down and started to twine her apron tie around her finger. A week ago she might have felt some satisfaction at the praise, perhaps even a day ago. But not after this night. Not after Edward had offered her his hand in honest friendship, then kissed her the way no man ever had before or would again. Guilt and passion crashed inside her, tearing her apart.
Now Quinn wanted her to make another try at the necklace. That meant being near Edward. Needing him. Wanting him. Knowing everything they had together was a lie.
“Quinn, we don’t need the necklace. We’ve a thousand pounds that’s mine for the asking. I know it is not the grand future we hoped for, but ‘tis a fine start. We can still go abroad, maybe buy a boardinghouse in the colonies. We can go tomorrow—”
“No,” he replied, his voice bitter. “It ain’t enough. Whether it’s a thousand pounds or a thousand thousand, it ain’t enough. I mean to make him bleed. It’ll make him the laughingstock of his class, to know a mere girl hoodwinked him out of a fortune. It’ll wound his bloody Trevelyan pride, which is worse than killing ‘im. And even that ain’t enough.”
“But why? What has the earl done that makes you hate him so?”
Quinn lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes full of the aching sorrow she’d seen in them just once before. “Because—”
“Prudence!”
Rina spun around, and saw Amy coming around the edge of the building. Panicked, she turned back to her partner. She saw him press against the side of the building, the shadow from the drainpipe barely shielding him from Amy’s sight. Barely.
Thinking quickly, Rina hurried to meet the girl, steering her away from her partner. Quinn had cut it close. Too close. “Amy, you look distraught. I daresay I should have insisted that you take a few minutes of fresh air t—”
“P…Pru,” Amy interrupted, laboring to catch her breath. “Come quick. You must help.”
“What’s wrong? Is one of the patients—”
“Not the patients.” Amy headed away from the manager’s shed, dragging Rina after her. “‘Tis Edward. He’s trapped in the mine. And Charles is going after him!”
Chapter Eighteen
By the time they reached the shaft, Sabrina was able to piece together most of what had happened from Amy’s frantic sentences. The last of the miners had been freed from the lowest level, but the lift bringing them up was dangerously overloaded. The earl had remained behind with the equipment while the rest of the men headed for the surface. They were almost to the top when they felt the shudder, and heard the sickening sound of the tunnel collapsing.
“No one is sure how damaging the cave-in was,” Amy said. “But I overheard one of the miners say that he’d called down the shaft, and that Edward didn’t answer.”
Dr. Williams was already at the whim’s lift when they arrived, loading up the last of his medical supplies. His rolled-up sleeves and soot-streaked face were a stark contrast to his usually reserved appearance. He looked up briefly as the women approached, then bent down and picked up a case of medicinal alcohol and bandages. “You two should be in the infirmary.”
Sabrina brushed the comment aside. “The infirmary can get by without us. We have come to help.”
“I have help,” the doctor replied, nodding to the two hulking miners who were already in the lift.
“I mean medical help.” Rina stepped between the doctor and the lift. “You know that if Edward is hurt, he will have a better chance with both of us there.”
“And he will have my head if anything happens to you. I cannot take you.”
He hoisted the last crate of supplies and started to brush past her. She reached out and gripped his arm, compelling him to face her. “Please, let me come. I cannot just wait here, doing nothing. I cannot stand by while he is in danger. I must go to him. I must.”
For a long moment the doctor stared at her, reading the emotions she was far too distraught to hide. His resolute expression softened, and his mouth turned up in a resigned smile. “I understand more than you think, Miss Winthrope. And you are right about the earl having a better chance with the two of us. Besides…given a choice, I think I should rather face Edward’s wrath than yours.” He nodded toward the lift. “Get in.”
Impulsively, Sabrina gave him a swift kiss on the cheek. Hoisting her skirt above her ankles she stepped onto the lift, a wooded platform surrounded by a low metal cage and suspended from the whim by four stout chains. She had little time to notice much else, however, before a yelp behind her made her turn around.
Dr. Williams had the elegant Lady Amy by the scruff of her neck. “I said she could join us, not you. You are not coming, and that is final.”
Amy struggled out of his grip and spun around, her eyes spitting
fire. “Edward is my brother. I have a duty to help him.”
“Then stop making a nuisance of yourself. Get back to the infirmary, where your incompetence is not so apparent.”
Amy’s bold expression crumbled. “My incompetence? But…when we were with Clara you said I was a help to you. You said—”
“I said exactly what a lord’s sister wanted to hear,” he replied stiffly. “But this is dangerous work, and I do not have time to play nursemaid.”
“Why, you ungracious, ill-mannered…” Amy’s words choked to mortified silence and Rina could see that she was on the verge of tears. Nevertheless, she raised her chin proudly. “Be assured, Doctor, that you shall never be subjected to my incompetency again.”
Amy flounced off toward the infirmary without a backward glance. Rina watched her go, confused and amazed by the doctor’s behavior. Amy might have been inexperienced, but she had a good heart and was a quick learner. “You were beastly to her,” she accused Charles as he joined them on the lift. “And she ahs been a help to you—genuinely. Why did you deny it? You’ve broken her heart.”
“Better her heart than her head,” he answered quietly, his inexplicable anger just as inexplicably gone from his voice. “I do not want her with us. I could not bear it if anything happened to her.”
The whim started and the lift lurched beneath them. Rina’s stomach turned a queasy somersault. Thoughts of Amy, Charles, and everything else left her mind as she realized that there was nothing beneath her but a few wooden planks and hundreds of feet of empty air. Lord, this is worse than the cliff edge.
The descent was slow and jerky—which only added to Sabrina’s already squeamish disposition. She clung to the chain and watched as the circle of dawn light above them was quickly swallowed up by the devouring darkness. Only the faint illumination of the safety lantern and the miner’s Davy lamp helmets held the darkness at bay. Sabrina had never considered herself a fearful person, and had never before grasped why some people experienced great anxiety in close places. But as the jagged walls of the mine slid by, plunging them deeper into the tomb of the earth, she suddenly sympathized with their fear.
“Hold there, miss. If ya grip that chain any tighter you’ll squeeze it in two.”
Startled, Rina looked at the miner who’d spoken. His helmet was pulled low on his face, and the mesh covered candle provided little light. But she recognized the voice instantly. “Mr. Duffy?”
“Howd’ya do,” he intoned, touching his helmet’s brim with the same pleasant politeness he’d shown when he’d rescued Sarah and her from the cliff edge. “Appears like we’ve both been doin’ our share of rescuing.”
“Appears so,” she agreed, smiling warmly. Just the sight of him cheered her. Cautiously, she loosened her grip on the chain and turned toward the other miner.
“This here’s my oldest boy, Harry,” Duffy offered. “Well, don’t stand there gaping like a toad.”
The lad shifted from foot to foot. “Er, p-pleased to make your ‘quaintance.”
Duffy shook his head. “You’ll have to excuse him, miss. Harry’s not used to mixin’ with gentry, ‘specially womenfolk.”
“No apologies necessary,” Rina said, giving the young man a sincere smile. “Harry, I want to thank both you and your father for volunteering to help the earl.”
Harry shrugged. “Well, o’ course. The earl’s a mate, ain’t he?”
The whim continued on its lurching, laborious way. Sabrina tried to keep her thoughts on the mission ahead, and off her nauseous stomach. But she would have suffered ten times the queasiness if it could have rid her of the cold terror that gripped her heart. He must be all right. He simply must be.
Her troubled thoughts jarred to an end as the lift thumped against the bottom of the shaft. The rough-hewn rock walls had an eerie way of echoing and swallowing sound at the same time. Dark water dripped down from the ceiling, reminding Rina that they were now well below sea level.
Taking a fortifying breath as she held her lantern high and followed Dr. Williams, forcing her mind to hopeful thoughts. But as they threaded their way through the rubble-strewn corridors, and stepped over a series of fallen timbers, she began to despair that anyone could survive in this unnatural place. He cannot be dead. I would know it. Somehow, I would know it—
“I’ve got ‘im!”
Duffy’s yell sent her scrambling over the piles of debris, heedless of the sharp stones and choking dust. Posts and rubble obscured her view, but she could see the glow of Dr. Williams’s lantern. And as she clawed her way over the final hill of rubble she saw that the doctor hunkered down beside a fallen timber. Then she saw a lean, dark form pinned beneath the timber—a lean, dark unmoving form. “Edward!”
The earl’s eyes flickered open. His gaze focused poorly, clouded by the delirium of pain. “An angel,” he murmured groggily. “Look, Charles. ‘Is’san angel, and she’s almost as pretty as…Prudence.” His words died as he lost consciousness.
“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Charles said as Rina dropped to her knees beside them. “I’ve given him something for the pain, but ‘tis no cure. There may be other injuries. I must get him out of here as quickly as possible. Can you stop his bleeding while I help the men clear the beam off him?”
“I can try,” Sabrina said as she pressed a cloth firmly against the gash in the earl’s forehead. A crimson stain bloomed like a deadly flower across the cloth. Fighting down panic she applied a new cloth, and another. Memories of her father’s last days came back to her, when the life had slipped out of his body like a shadow slipping across a midnight room.
“It is you.”
The rusty whisper rolled through her like thunder. She looked down and saw Edward gazing up at her, his eyes clear and lucid, but his jaw still taut with pain. She inched closer, cradling his head against her chest. “You need to save your strength. Don’t speak—”
“Like hell.” He cast his gaze around the tunnel. “Christ, this whole place could come down in a heartbeat. I want you out of here. Now.”
She smoothed back his hair, and calmly applied another cloth to his wound. “My lord, you are in no position to order anyone anywhere.”
“Dammit, you are the most contrary of females, worse than…than…” His words trailed off as the pain medicine Charles had given him began to take effect. “Trusted her…believed in her. But she left.”
He was talking about Isabel, crawling back into the horror of that time. Sabrina took his hand, bringing it to her lips. “‘Tis long past, Edward. She can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here now. I…won’t leave you.”
She wanted to calm him. Instead, her answer made him more agitated. He thrashed his head from side to side, muttering parts of sentences. “Can’t let it happen again…dream of her on cliffs, walking…so lost…maybe if I’d…but I didn’t. All my fault.”
The earl’s head lolled to the side as he slipped back into unconsciousness. Rina clutched his limp hand, confused by his disjointed words. It might have been the laudanum talking, but she knew the difference between fact and fancy. And Edward’s words, however jumbled, had the ring of truth. What was his fault? What was it that he could not let happen again?
“Heave to!”
Rina saw the three men struggle to lift the heavy log. For the space of several heartbeats she held her breath, unsure if they would have the strength to move the beam. The timber moved an inch, and then another. She watched as a finger of lantern light appeared between the bottom of the timber and the earl’s chest. “Dear God, you’ve done it!” she cried as tears streamed down her face.
The earl was still unconscious as they pulled him from under the beam. Duffy and Dr. Williams lifted him between them, and carried him down the passageway. Rina started after them, but hesitated as she realized that Duffy’s son had stayed behind. Turning around, she saw that he’d knelt down beside the fallen timber. He’d taken out his knife, and was working a piece from the wooden surface. “Harry, this is no time to take souveni
rs.”
“I weren’t, miss. I just wanted to show it to my da. I can’t be sure, but…well, it ‘pears this post’s gone slack.”
Rina cast a suspicious glance at the precarious ceiling overhead, then stepped closer to the young man. “Slack?”
“Weak as six-water grog,” he explained as he stuck the knife in his pocket and rose to his feet.
He held out the piece of wood in his beefy hand, turning it over so Sabrina could get a good look at it. Even by the faint light of his Davy lamp she could see that it was molded and rotted through. “Yes, ‘tis in terrible condition, but that’s bound to happen in this damp place over time.”
“Over time, sure. But this here’s the new tunnel, and these beams weren’t laid but a month past.” He looked at her, his broad face puzzled and worried. “Seems to me that someone’s made a fair go at scuppering the Grace.”