Her Longed-For Family. Jo Ann BrownЧитать онлайн книгу.
Lord Warrick opened his mouth to reply, then nodded. “You must promise me, my lady, you will not allow your fervor to entice you to enter the mines.”
“There is nothing in the world that would compel me to go even a step into the mines.” She shuddered at the thought of creeping into the deep shafts, leaving light and fresh air behind as the fear of rising water stalked every breathing moment.
“Good.”
She looked at Joy, who clung to her shawl. For a moment, she considered remaining at Cothaire to soothe the children. Irene, the nursery maid, loved them, and they returned her affection. She would ease the children’s fears.
“I will be only a few minutes,” she said. “If you don’t mind waiting, my lord, so I may ride in your carriage...”
“I came here by horseback.” He took a step toward the door, clearly anxious to be gone.
“I will not slow you once I have a horse saddled.”
Her brother said, “I will arrange for horses, Carrie, and get the supplies gathered while you settle the children. Give me a hand, Warrick?”
She followed them out of the damaged room. In the hallway, where paintings were askew on the walls, Arthur put Gil down. She took the little boy’s hand and went as quickly as his short legs could manage toward the stairs. She glanced back to see her brother and Lord Warrick hurrying in the other direction.
She wondered what they would find when they reached the mine high on the moor. Please, God, watch over us especially closely today.
* * *
Halting his horse in the shadow of the beam engine house, Jacob looked at the scene in front of him. The three-story tall building with its brick chimney was not silent, a good sign, because the pumps worked to lift water from the mine shafts deep below the ground. The rhythmic thud of the beam engine was unbroken. If a shaft had collapsed, the area would have been filled with desperate relatives and others trying to make a rescue.
The miners’ wives and daughters swept glass in front of the terrace houses where they lived. He had repaired rotten roofs and cracked foundations, then had both the exteriors and the interiors whitewashed. New floors had been put in where needed, along with strengthening unsteady staircases. Now, every window he had replaced after his arrival at Warrick Hall was probably broken.
When he frowned, it felt as if a hot poker pressed to his skin. He ignored it. What could have gone wrong? Had he made another mistake that had led to the explosion? He pushed that thought away, not wanting to imagine someone else dying from his failure to pay attention to what was going on around him, as Virginia Greene had because he did not notice the road was icy.
A child shrieked.
Lady Caroline jumped down from her horse. She reached up to her brother for the bag of medical supplies he carried. He handed it to her. She called to a nearby lad to take her horse’s reins.
The boy, his eyes wide, scurried to obey.
“Can you keep my horse from wandering away?” she asked with a gentle smile. “I don’t want it to get injured.”
He nodded, then squared his narrow shoulders when she thanked him as if he were the answer to her dearest prayer. Pride and purpose battled on the lad’s face as he raised his chin, clearly ready to do his duty for her.
Jacob watched a miner step forward to take the heavy bag she carried. The man grinned broadly when she asked him to follow as she hurried to where the women had gathered around a crying child. Every request Jacob made to these stubborn Cornishmen and their women was met with reluctance and often outright defiance. A single smile from Lady Caroline, and they were as docile and eager as a litter of puppies.
“It is a gift she has always had,” Lord Trelawney said as he moved his horse closer to Jacob’s. “She cares so much about others they cannot help but care about her.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?”
“You are not the first to stare in disbelief.” He arched a brow. “I admit I envy her that ability, especially when a couple of tenant farmers are about to come to blows over a matter that could be handled by cooperation.”
“You should take her with you to ease the anger.”
Lord Trelawney smiled. “Trust me. There have been a few times when her help saved the day.” Glancing around, the viscount became serious again. “It does not look as if the explosion occurred here.”
He turned his horse past the engine house and away from the village. “I hope I am wrong, but I suspect the explosion came from this direction.”
“Why?”
“Come with me, and you will see.” He did not want to make any accusations until he had facts.
They did not have to ride more than a quarter of a mile. Across the open moor where even the gorse had lost its bright blossoms with the coming of winter, soot marked where a fire had flared. A few men stood at one side of the blackened earth, beating out low flames.
A tall, thickset man rushed toward them. As he looked at Jacob, he wore his usual sneer. He started to speak, then glanced at Lord Trelawney. Whatever he had intended to say ended in a sharp gulp.
“Yelland,” Jacob asked as he swung off his horse, Shadow, which shied nervously at the strong odors from the smoke, “what happened?” He knew, too well, from what he could see in front of him, but he wanted to hear the mine captain’s explanation.
Paul Yelland had held that prestigious title and the duties of overseeing the men and the mines since before Jacob’s arrival. Jacob let him continue, but was growing more disillusioned with the man’s character and abilities. Yelland preferred evading work. As well, he had made no secret of his lack of respect for the new baron, though Yelland was intimidated by Lord Trelawney.
“It went off,” Yelland said, staring at his feet.
“What went off?” asked Lord Trelawney as he dismounted.
“Gunpowder, my lord,” Yelland replied with an obsequiousness he never showed Jacob.
Lord Trelawney rounded on Jacob. “You are making gunpowder this close to your mines and village? Are you mad, Warrick?”
Jacob kept his voice even. “We are not making gunpowder here. I would never put the miners and their families in such danger.”
“Then what—?”
Knowing he was being rude but determined to deal with the matter himself, Jacob looked at Yelland as he said, “If you will excuse us, Trelawney...”
“Yes, certainly.” Curiosity burned in the younger man’s eyes, but he nodded. Patting his coat as if making sure something important was beneath it, he added, “I need to check the nearby farms and Porthlowen. I trust you will share what you discover with Carrie before she returns to Cothaire, so she may inform Father.”
“Yes, certainly,” he said, using the viscount’s own words. “I will see she arrives safely home.”
Trelawney startled him by laughing. “She has been riding along this moor and the seaside since she could walk.” He glanced toward Yelland and the other men who had gathered to listen. “However, I appreciate you escorting her to Cothaire.”
Wondering what the viscount had sensed from the miners, Jacob nodded as Trelawney mounted and rode across the moor in the direction of the ancient farm foundations. Nobody in the area could be unaware of the multitude of troubles with the mines. His attempts to update them had brought more problems. The beam engine required constant vigilance and failed time after time. Whenever it stopped, water had to be pumped out of the shafts before the miners could return to work. Was it simply the new beam engine had inherent faults, or was there a more sinister scheme behind its many problems?
Jacob shook that thought from his head along with his curiosity as to why Trelawney