Chapter Thirty-Two

A fter the long climb up from the bottom of the shaft via a series of wooden platforms which Opie called sollars, Casworan greeted them at the pithead. Each sollar had offered the opportunity for a breather, with the next ladder stretching twenty feet up to a small hole in the next platform. But by the time they reached the surface, Nat was far more exhausted than he’d have liked to admit, and his right shoulder was throbbing like the worst toothache with every beat of his heart. He could only be glad he hadn’t had to carry Yves up.

One of the other miners had gone on ahead, and Casworan had blankets ready, which he quickly wrapped around Caroline, to conceal her shredded gown, and Yves. Nat turned his down as, despite being wet from the running water down below, he was hot and sweating from the climb, and the warm sun would dry him off better than a blanket would.

Opie set Yves down on a low wall, wrapped in his blanket, and the little boy gazed around himself, blinking in the bright sun. Of the three of them, he seemed to have weathered the ordeal the best, despite their worries that he might die from the cold, and to be on his way to recovery from his long immersion. Such is the resilience of children.

The wind caught Nat’s hair, and from beyond the headland the thunder of waves crashing on the cliffs rose into an air peppered with wheeling gulls. The tide must be right in. He couldn’t deny his relief to have made it out of the mine.

How long had they been underground? Nat squinted at the sun. This had to be mid-afternoon. He looked at Caroline, who was making a forlorn and hopeless effort to tidy her hair. She looked as though she’d been dragged through the dirt by a wild horse, and then thrown in a few bushes, and no doubt he did as well. What a trio. Nothing like the scions of a noble house. More like beggars you’d pass on the road without a second glance, or villains.

She met his gaze, her dark eyes brimming with confidence. What a woman. He’d never met anyone like her before. Someone prepared to enter a maze of underground tunnels she didn’t know she could get out of in order to rescue her charge even though she so plainly was terrified. A woman who had trusted him enough to follow him ever deeper into the mine when he’d assured her he’d known the way out. She must have guessed he couldn’t be certain a way out still existed after all these years. Yet she’d conquered her fears and followed him in.

The impulse to snatch her into his arms grew to epic proportions. He wanted to press her body, scantily clad as it was, against his, and kiss those lips until they bruised. He’d not felt desire like this for years. Not since Julia. He’d never thought he could find another woman like her, and yet he had, although in truth she was nothing like Julia. He felt himself harden at the thought of kissing her again, and turned away, wishing he’d accepted that blanket from Casworan.

She cleared her throat. “We’d best get Yves home. He needs to be in a warm bed.” And the moment was gone.

Casworan loaned them his horse, a sturdy cob as like Jacka’s Bosun as to be his brother. There was only an ordinary saddle, of course, but, after considerable argument, he succeeded in persuading Caroline up onto it. She, of course, was of the outspoken opinion that he, as the one injured by yesterday’s fall, should take the horse and she could walk. Ignoring his throbbing shoulder, Nat assured her he was fine. A lie, but an expedient one. Then Casworan lifted Yves up in front of her and they set off back to Roskilly.

Yves, who was clearly not as recovered as he would have liked them to think, fell asleep again in Caroline’s arms, as Nat led the cob down from the headland and onto the tracks between the small, stone-walled fields, every step jarring his aching shoulder. But it was a satisfying ache, because of how he’d gained it, and he could put up with it.

*

With Nat leading the cob, Caroline was able to hold onto the sleeping Yves with both hands. Thanks to the blanket and the warm July sun, he was warming rapidly, which relieved her. But nonetheless, a visit from the doctor would be in order.

She looked down at Nat. Each step he took seemed to be undertaken with care, as though his shoulder pained him. How could she ever have suspected him of evil intent to Yves? He’d leapt into action at her request for help, and risked his life to save his young cousin. And he’d kissed her. Oh, how he’d kissed her. Kissed her in the way all young girls dream of. Throughout most of the time underground she’d refused to think about it, but now, in the clear light of day, she allowed herself to remember his demanding lips on hers and the arousal she’d felt shiver through her body.

She’d been kissed before, by the young lieutenant who’d gone off to war and never come back, but it had been nothing like the passionate kiss Nat had given her. And once, many years ago, her friend Kit had kissed her, in a chaste and innocent way, as they’d both been no more than thirteen and merely curious to find out what a kiss might feel like. It had been somewhat disappointing, and not one whit like Nat’s hot and hungry kiss down there in the dark bowels of the Earth.

Did she want Nat to kiss her again? She most certainly did. In fact, she felt her cheeks heating at what she wanted Nat to do, that shiver of arousal cascading through her body once more. If he only knew what improper thoughts she was having about him, he’d be shocked. Or maybe not. Maybe he was having them himself. He was a man, after all, with a man’s needs. Clearly women had similar needs because, right now, all she could think about was not just being kissed but being undressed by him and taken to bed. How very risqué and daring of her. She smiled to herself against Yves’s tangled curls.

To distract herself from these naughty but pleasurable daydreams, she looked out to sea. A few fishing boats dotted the expanse of blue, idyllic in the sunshine, but the lack of wind was probably not good for sailing, or fishing. Overhead, the gulls continued to wheel, their raucous cries tearing at the air, and the now familiar smell of the sea wafted to her nostrils. How good it was to be alive and out in the sun again. She was never going in a mine again. Never, never, never. She couldn’t say that to herself enough times. Never. Never. Never.

They were drawing near to Roskilly before she roused herself enough to speak. “What are we going to do about Trefusis?” She kept her voice down low for fear of disturbing Yves. “He meant for Yves to die or get lost in those tunnels. That’s obvious.”

Nat looked up at her. “Intent is not an action he can easily be held answerable for.”

“I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“The best I can do is ask my grandfather to dismiss him.”

“You ought to do that as soon as we’re returned. Trefusis will no doubt be hoping by now that Yves has gone for good.”

Nat nodded. “I’m looking forward to seeing the look on his face when he sees us back with him.”

Caroline shifted in the saddle to ease her aching back. “And I shall make sure I keep Hetty and Yves as safe as possible until he goes.”

“Which will be today, if I have my way.”

The track led them down to the corner of the Roskilly gardens and round to the stableyard. Young Pascoe came running, his eyes shocked at the sight that met his eyes. “What’s been goin’ on, Sir?” His eyes ran over Caroline’s bedraggled state as she relinquished her precious load to Nat with relief.

She slid down from the cob’s broad back, glad to have her feet on solid ground that wasn’t down a deep, dark hole.

“Master Yves got lost in the old adit in Penmar Cove,” Nat said. “Take Casworan’s horse for me and see it well fed. We had to make our way up to Jenny’s workings and come up by the ladder shaft. We couldn’t have walked back from there.” He had Yves almost over his left shoulder.

“I had an adventure, Tom,” Yves muttered. “I went exploring.”

“Looks like you did, that, young master,” Tom said, taking the cob’s reins. “A right brave’un you are.” He led the horse into the stable block and Nat carried Yves into the house, Caroline right behind him.

Mrs. Treloar met them in the hall. She had Doctor Rescorla with her, but whether he was on his way in or out was debatable.

“What’s this?” she said, her eyes going from Nat and Yves to Caroline and back, lingering rather too long on the parlous state of Caroline’s gown. “Where on Earth have you been to get like this?”

“Yves has been down Wheal Jenny,” Nat said. “Or rather, up it, as he began at the old adit in Penmar Cove. He fell into a flooded shaft from which we rescued him. Doctor Rescorla, can you examine him if I carry him upstairs?”

Doctor Rescorla, a bluff, prematurely balding gentleman in his thirties, nodded his agreement. “Of course, of course. He looks as though he’s had a bit of a shock to the system.”

“I had an adventure,” Yves corrected him in sleepy indignation. “I’m an explorer.”

“Nearly a dead one, by the sound of it,” the doctor said as he followed Nat up the stairs toward the nursery. Caroline made to follow, but Mrs. Treloar put a restraining hand on her arm. “What has happened to your gown, Miss Fairfield? And how did you get so dirty?”

Fury washed over Caroline. “I need to be with Yves. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll have to tell you all of that later.” She yanked her arm free and ran up the stairs after Nat and the doctor, leaving her employer standing irate in the hall. She was past caring about offending her.

Nat laid Yves down on his bed in the nursery and the little boy stirred, his eyes opening. He yawned as the doctor bent over him. “These clothes are still damp. Get him out of them immediately and send a maid for hot bricks to warm him. And some hot broth to warm him from the inside, too.”

Bridget had emerged from her room, her face a picture of shock when she saw the state they were all in. Although whether that was to do with their appearance or the fact that Yves was not dead, Caroline couldn’t be sure. It very much depended on how much Bridget knew. Probably not a lot more than her own role in this. However, it gave Caroline great pleasure to send her running to carry out the doctor’s orders. To which she added, “And fetch Patience up here.” She’d have to go to her room to change in a while and didn’t intend to leave Yves unattended and at Bridget’s mercy. Patience would have to sit with him.

Once Yves was in his nightgown, the doctor put his ear to his chest and listened to his heart for a minute, then laid his hand on his forehead. “No temperature as yet. You might be lucky, and he may not get a chill from this. I recommend sleep, which is a great healer. And no excitement for several days at least.” He looked back at Yves. “Bed rest for you, my boy. Bed rest.” With that, the doctor departed.

“I don’t want to stay in bed,” Yves complained, sleepily. “But if I have to, can I have Dash with me?”

Caroline nodded. “Of course you can. Nat will go and fetch him for you.” She glanced at Nat. “Can you do that now, do you think?”

With a sigh, Nat departed.

Bridget arrived accompanied by Patience, whom she’d made carry the hot bricks. These Caroline arranged around Yves in bed, sitting him up propped with pillows. “You may go, Bridget. Patience can sit with Yves while he eats his broth. It smells most appetizing.” And she didn’t want Bridget adding anything untoward to it. Not now Yves had just been rescued. How easy would it be for her to slip in an overdose and for it to look as though Yves had succumbed to shock from his near drowning.

With a surly look, Bridget departed, and Caroline turned to Patience. “I have to wash and find myself some clean clothes, so I want you to stay with Yves no matter what. He is not to be left alone, and above all, he is not to be left with Bridget. Don’t leave him. I won’t be long, and I’m trusting you to keep him safe for me. Mr. Treloar has to go and see his grandfather when he’s brought Dash up, so he can’t stay with him.”

Patience regarded her out of nervous, wide eyes. “Yes, Miss.”

Caroline caught her arm. “Do not leave him even if there’s a fire. Do you understand? Even if Mrs. Treloar orders you to.”

The girl’s eyes went to Nat, who’d just returned with Dash, as if for corroboration of this strange order. He nodded. “Do as Miss Fairfield says. I won’t be long, either.”

Patience nodded. “Even if the house is on fire. I’ll do that, surr.”

Caroline got up from the chair she’d sat in. “I’ll be in my room if you need me. I’ll leave the door ajar, and this one. You can shout if you have to, and I’ll come.”

Patience nodded again. “I got a loud voice.”

Caroline and Nat left the room together, and Nat continued on down the corridor leaving Caroline to go into her room. The pitcher and bowl of water from breakfast time still stood on her washstand, so she stripped off her ruined gown and petticoat, and stood in just her stays and drawers to wash herself as quickly as she could. That was better. Then she undid her hair and attempted to brush the accumulated dirt of the tunnels out of it. Not so easy. She was just braiding it when Hetty arrived.

Her face was pale and streaked with tears.

Caroline’s heart skipped a beat. Again. It was doing that a lot lately. “What is it?”

Hetty dissolved into tears. “Grandpapa has suffered another apoplexy.”

Of course. That must have been why Doctor Rescorla was in the hall. He’d been to see Sir Hugh. “Oh, my goodness.” She’d nearly emulated Nat then, and sworn. That would have surprised Hetty. “Is he all right?”

Hetty shook her head. “I don’t think so. They won’t let me in to see him. That awful Rodgers is looking after him. Mama and Mr. Trefusis went in to see him though. Mama said I was too young to go in a sick room.” She frowned. “Mr. Trefusis was with him when it happened. He called the doctor.”

A clawed hand seized Caroline’s heart. Trefusis again. Was it pure coincidence he’d been with Sir Hugh when he’d had his apoplexy? Had he done something to the old man? He must have thought Yves already dead in the mines, never suspecting that she and Nat had gone in there to save him. That had to be why he had struck.

“I’m sorry, Hetty. Let me see if I can get you in to see him. But first, can you help me with my gown?”

Hetty glanced at the crumpled, filthy heap of the old gown on the floor, seeming to see it for the first time. “Whatever happened to that one?”

Caroline shook her head. “I’ll tell you later. But I need you to stay with Patience and Yves. To keep him safe. He’s had a terrible experience.”

With Hetty’s help, she struggled into a clean gown and exchanged her filthy boots and stockings for clean ones. That was better. She could face the world now. “Will you stay with Yves while I go to find out what’s been happening?”

Hetty nodded. “I’ll stay.”

Caroline set off in the direction of Sir Hugh’s room.