by Jo Ann Brown
Staring at the page in front of him, Jacob could not comprehend a single word he tried to read. His mind jumped from one thought to the next too quickly to settle on a report of the new shaft being dug in a small mine to the west of the mining village. He had sat there for half the afternoon and made no progress.
A knock came on his office door, and he put the page aside gratefully as he called, “Come in.”
Emery walked in and, glancing around at the stacks of paper and account books, whistled. “You need a secretary and an estate manager, brother.”
“Interested in the position?”
“Possibly.”
Jacob was shocked. He had intended his question to be a jest, but obviously Emery had not taken it that way. Gesturing for his brother to clear a space on the settee, he waited until Emery was sitting before he spoke.
“Is handling the estate accounts something you truly want to do?” He felt obligated to add, “They were in a disastrous shape when I arrived, and they are not much better now. I cannot believe you would want to tackle the job.”
“Go ahead. Ask me what you really are thinking.”
“That was what I was thinking.”
Emery shook his head. “We are brothers. You can be honest and say you are worried I will bankrupt this estate as I have the rest of the family.”
“The thought never crossed my mind. I know I chided you for being a risk taker, but I have come to see in recent weeks we are not so different. You took a chance on your dream. No man should be faulted for that, even if it does not turn out as he hoped.”
“It failed utterly, you mean.” He bristled.
“Don’t keep putting words in my mouth, Emery. We have always been forthright with each other. Something Father insisted on, and I understand why, now that I know why he and Uncle Maban were driven apart. If you want to take on the position of estate manager, I can think of nobody I would rather have working with me.” He offered his brother his hand.
Emery lost his antagonistic pose and smiled as he shook Jacob’s hand. “Nor can I imagine anyone else I would rather work for.”
“Work with. This is the family’s estate, and we are the last of a long line of Warricks who are responsible for it.”
“I cannot wait to tell Helen. She has been making hints about how much she would like to stay here instead of returning to our cramped cottage.” Emery stood, then sat again. “I came here to tell you that Faye has left.”
Jacob was unsure what to say, so he fell back on the hackneyed. “I am sorry she was unhappy here.”
“She was miserable. Unlike the rest of us, she despised everything about Cornwall. The food, the people, the weather, even Warrick Hall. She would have endured it all—her words, not mine—if she became Lady Warrick. When she saw that was not going to happen, she packed this morning and left. Apparently, she plans to go to London after the new year to try to find a rich or a titled—or both—husband.”
“I am not both. When you go through the accounts, you will see money is tight.”
Emery chuckled. “If you had been rich as well as titled, I don’t think she would have given up as easily.”
“What a thing to say about your sister-in-law!”
“I didn’t say it. Helen did.”
Laughing with his brother, Jacob felt a great burden roll from his shoulders. It should have been flattering to have a lovely young woman eager for his attentions, but it had been nothing but annoying to deal with her moods.
“Beverly must be upset,” he said, shoving his spectacles up his nose as he did so often.
“Surprisingly, no.” Emery shook his head and grinned more widely. “Maybe she has decided she would rather be known as the mother-in-law to an earl’s daughter than to have Faye join the peerage by marrying you.”
“Or she realized I meant what I said when I told her I was not planning to marry anytime soon.”
“Does Lady Caroline know that?”
“Yes.”
Emery’s brows shot upward. “So how does she feel about you courting her when you don’t intend to marry her?”
“I am not courting her.” He did not regret their kiss, because the thought of it sent happiness resonating through him. However, he could not forget how distraught she had looked when she had turned on her heel and fled from his arms.
“You could have fooled me.”
“Enough, Emery!”
His brother raised his hands in surrender as sarcasm seeped into his voice. “Yes, my lord.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I know.” Emery smiled as he stood and put one hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “But you need to figure out what you do mean before you break another woman’s heart.”
After his brother left, closing the door to leave the room in silence, Jacob folded his hands and bowed his head over them. He did not want to break Carrie’s heart. He had believed himself to be in love with Virginia, and that had ended in tragedy. He did not understand why he had agreed to let her drive, but he had. Something had happened, and the carriage crashed, leaving her dead. Could he have halted the events? There must have been a choice he could have made that would have prevented the accident.
But, no matter how deeply he searched his mind, he could not recall the series of events which had unfolded that night.
Dear God, help me overcome the loss that haunts me so I can live the life You want for me. I cannot believe You wish me to remain mired in grief and guilt. Show me the way.
How many times had he prayed those words in desperate yearning to be released from his pain? More times than he could count.
While he waited for an answer, he must do what he had avoided for too long.
* * *
When a footman came to announce Lord Warrick wished to speak with Lady Caroline, Carrie was playing with Gil and Joy in the small parlor. She was unsettled by Mr. Hockbridge’s request to court her so soon after Jacob had kissed her...after she had kissed him eagerly. Since yesterday, her life had spiraled out of control. The only constant was the uncomplicated love the two children offered her.
Why was being able to express her feelings so simple with these darling children and so perplexing otherwise?
“My friend Jacob!” Gil jumped to his feet and ran to the door as Jacob walked into the room.
He must have, she noted, given his coat to a footman before coming to the small parlor. As a proper gentleman should, and as a proper lady, she could not comment on it.
Gil skipped beside Jacob as they came to where she sat with Joy at her feet. Before she could say anything, Gil pointed out the baby’s new tooth. Joy opened her mouth wide and giggled when Jacob complimented her on such a beautiful tooth.
Only then did he look past the children to her. His eyes were hooded, so she could not guess what he was thinking. Was he upset she had fled from their kiss? Was he glad she had come to her senses and wanted to tell her that he had done the same? Thoughts, each one more ridiculous than the last, flew through her mind.
“May I?” he asked, motioning to the settee where she sat.
“If you wish...”
He perched on the very edge of the settee and leaned one elbow on the arm. She was not fooled by his careless pose, because his jaw was taut.
“Would it be possible to speak to you alone?” He looked at the children. “All alone?”
She nodded and rang the bell on the table beside her. In only a few minutes, Irene came to take Gil and Joy to the nursery. Neither child wanted to leave, but Jacob reassured them he would come to see them before he left Cothaire.
“If possible,” she heard him add under his breath as the children and the nursery maid left.
Her brows lowered in a frown as she noted how tense he was. Something was horribly wrong. Had he heard of Mr. Ho
ckbridge coming to Cothaire to ask to court her? Nonsense. If someone had listened in on the private conversation, gossip could not move that fast even through Porthlowen. Mr. Hockbridge was the cause of her being unsettled, but what was distressing Jacob?
Had he come to apologize for kissing her? She hoped not, because she did not want to believe he thought the wondrous kiss was an error. It should not have happened; yet, she treasured the memory of those moments in his arms.
He cleared his throat once, then twice. Looking at his hands splayed on his knees as if they were the most interesting things he had ever seen, he said, “I am not sure where to begin, Carrie.”
“Wherever you wish.”
“That is the problem. I’m not sure how I wish to put this.”
“Be forthright, as you always are.”
He glanced at her swiftly, then away. “As you wish. You know, Carrie, how much I treasure our friendship. I would not want to do anything to damage what we have. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes,” she whispered. His words were almost identical to Mr. Hockbridge’s. Did he intend to ask her, too, if he could court her? The answer had been simple with the doctor, but now her heart begged her to say yes while her common sense warned her nothing had changed. She must find the perfect words to tell him that she appreciated his request more than she could say, but she could not be the wife he needed.
The doctor had been hurt by her refusal for him to court her. She did not want to hurt Jacob, too.
“Even though I overstepped the bounds of propriety to kiss you,” he went on, “I cannot say I will ever regret I did. Our kisses revealed so much to me about the state of my heart.”
Her own beat harder, eager for him to say the words that had sent dread through her when the doctor had spoken them. The warnings from the prudent part of her mind were muffled by its powerful pulse.
Knowing what she risked, she said, “It opened my eyes to my feelings for you, too, Jacob.”
“I am sorry to hear that.”
“What?” She had not expected him to say that.
“Because I don’t want you to wait for me to propose marriage to you when I cannot.”
“Cannot?” The single word stuck in her throat. She had been certain that, beginning the conversation as Mr. Hockbridge had, he intended to make her the same offer. She had prepared herself to turn him down gently in an attempt to salvage their friendship. Shocked, she blurted out her first thought, “Did you ask Miss Bolton to marry you?”
“No, and you should know she decided to leave Warrick Hall to return home.”
“She did? When?”
“Earlier today.” He put a single finger to her lips to silence her next question. “Carrie, please, say no more.”
Turning her face from his touch, though she longed to lean into it, she asked, “How can you ask that of me? So many times you have told me that you admire my curiosity. Now you are telling me to quell it.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“The truth cannot hurt me more than silence will.”
He stood and walked to the far side of the room as if he could not bear to be close to her. “You are right. I have been trying to persuade myself I am protecting you by not speaking the truth, when I am clearly protecting myself from losing your esteem.” He turned to look at her, his face long with misery. “I made a vow one horrible night I would never again ask a woman I cared about to be my wife, because I might make the same mistakes I did that night.”
“The night you wrecked your carriage?”
“You know about it!” Shock heightened his voice. “How?”
“Mrs. Warrick mentioned you nearly died, and she said it was because your carriage crashed.”
“So you understand, then, how my mistakes led to the tragic accident.”
She came to her feet as she shook her head. “I don’t understand, Jacob. Why do both you and your stepmother call it tragic?”
“Because my betrothed, Virginia Greene, died that night, and it was my fault. If I had made different decisions, she might be alive. I should have kept her safe. It was my place to protect her, and I did not.”
Again, words failed her. His powerful pain was almost tangible, a living presence in the room that had opened a chasm between them she had no idea how to bridge.
Somehow, she managed to whisper, “But you said yourself it was an accident.”
“I cannot remember, Carrie. So much that happened before it and afterwards is nothing but a blur. If my brother had not come when he did, I would be dead, too. However, I am certain of one thing. If I had been as cautious as I should have been when the roads were covered with ice, she would not have died that night. There must have been something I could have done to prevent the accident. Something to protect her.”
His words hung in the air between them, widening the abyss until she felt she would have to shout for him to hear her across it. He must have sensed it, too, because he walked to her, then halted and recoiled as if he had run into an invisible wall.
“I am sorry,” she said, wanting to reach out and take his hands. “No wonder you are obsessed with keeping the miners safe.”
“I like to think I would have had compassion no matter—” He turned to look at the glass doors to the garden. “Listen!”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly! The beam engine has stopped again. I must—”
This time, he was interrupted by the hallway door crashing against the wall. Baricoat burst in, his eyes wide as they scanned the room.
“Lord Warrick!” the normally placid butler shouted as she had never heard him do before. “Thank the good Lord you are here. You are needed at the main mine. There has been a cave-in!”
Chapter Fifteen
Carrie did not hesitate. An accident in the mines could turn deadly within seconds. Already the message had needed time to travel to Cothaire. “Baricoat, have Mrs. Ford make plenty of coffee and sandwiches. Get any medical supplies you can gather quickly, as well as blankets. Send every available footman to the mine to assist.”
“I will.” The butler ran out the door as quickly as he had entered.
She started to follow, but Jacob halted her by grasping her arm.
“Wait here,” he said.
“I am not sitting at home while others are rescuing the men.”
He grasped her by the shoulders. “Carrie, please. I don’t want you in danger.”
“I won’t be.” She put her hands over his and gazed deep into his eyes where the thick walls of pain had concealed so much. “But those families need someone beside them to bolster their hope.”
“There may not be any hope.”
“There is always hope. I believe you can find a way to rescue the men in the mine.”
His hand cupped her cheek as he breathed her name. “Such faith you have in me, even after what I just told you.”
“What you just told me could not change how I feel about you. Nothing could.” She gave him a push toward the door. “Go,” she urged. “We will follow you.”
* * *
Everyone in the mining village, save for the men who were in the shafts, was gathered around the mine entrance when Carrie drew Marmalade to a stop by the engine house. She looked from the fearful faces to the great wooden beam that hung motionless above her head.
She slid out of the saddle and tied her horse’s reins to the rail on the steps. Hearing the rattle of the wagon from Cothaire, she motioned for the driver to bring the load of food and supplies to where she stood.
Some of the villagers turned to watch the wagon arrive. She waved to them to help unload it. She began lifting out the few baskets of food the kitchen had been able to prepare before the wagon left. More food and supplies would follow. As she worked, her eyes searched t
he crowd by the mine entrance.
Where was Jacob? She had thought he would be in the very center, working out a plan to rescue those underground. Rushing up the steps, she threw open the door of the engine house.
“Jacob?” she called. “Pym?”
Neither man answered. Where were they? She had assumed Pym would be working on the beam engine, even if Jacob was busy elsewhere.
What was going on?
“Lady Caroline?” asked a deep voice from behind her.
She whirled to Yelland, the mine captain. “Where are they? Lord Warrick and Pym?”
“I don’t know where Pym is, but Lord Warrick has gone into the mine to bring up the men.” Yelland’s face was as white as the falling snow. “I warned him not to go, but he would not be halted.”
Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her, but she locked them in place. Jacob was determined no one else he was responsible for would be killed. So determined he was ready to turn his back on love to punish himself for what he believed were his mistakes. She should have known he would not remain outside the mine when miners were in danger.
She wanted to give chase, but she would be a liability in the mine. She had no choice but to wait.
“What happened?” she asked.
“As far as we know from the men who were closest to the cave-in, one of the supports failed, and the ceiling collapsed. At least a half dozen men are on the other side of the fallen rock.” He glanced up at the beam and gulped. “If they are alive, they will drown as soon as water fills the shaft.”
“Get the beam engine running!”
“I am not sure how.”
“Then find Pym! Surely he did not go into the mine, too.”
Yelland shook his head. “He is too much of a coward to step a toe in the mine. That is why he works here.”
“Find him!” She pushed past him and hurried to where women were waiting by the wagon. Without greeting them, she said, “Open the baskets and put the food out.”
“Where would you like it, my lady?” asked one woman whose face was stained with salt from her tears.
“Do you have tables you can bring outside?”