Annie Burrows - Four Regency Rogues

He was surprised to find the great wheel turning and several men hurrying about with ropes and buckets. Robert Bailey, the engineer, was directing some sort of operation. Roland dismounted and approached him. ‘What’s afoot?’ he asked him.

‘There’s two men trapped underground, my lord. They were working at the lowest level yesterday when a great rush of water broke through and filled the tunnel. It rises slightly towards the face and they are stuck there.’

‘You know they are alive?’

‘Yes, the spot where they are is just below a higher level and the men working there heard them banging, but if the water rises any more, they will undoubtedly drown. The pump is having little effect.’

‘So what are you doing?’

‘We are trying to break through from above, but we dare not use explosives. It is a question of hammering out the rock to reach them and the men have been going down in turns all night. The trouble is that we have no idea how much air they have. Time is not on our side.’

‘Can I help?’

‘I do not see how you can, my lord.’ As he spoke two workers came up from below. They were stripped to the waist and glistening with sweat, and obviously exhausted. They sprawled on the ground. Bailey and Roland went over to them.

‘We’ll never do it,’ one of them said. ‘We’ve been down there three hours and hardly made an impression.’

‘Are they still banging?’ Bailey asked.

‘I thought I heard them, but ’tis difficult to be sure. ’Tis not as loud as it was.’

‘Who’s next down?’

‘Joe and Paddy.’

Roland was thoughtful, remembering boyhood adventures with Jacob Edwards exploring the holes and caves in the hills. Their parents never knew or they would certainly have been forbidden to go anywhere near them. ‘There might be some way of diverting the water and draining the level, enough for the men to be able to wade out.’ He went back to where the engineer had left his maps and began studying them. ‘I remember when I was a child, we used to explore the underground caves. Some were dry, some had water in them. If we could find the source of the water and divert it…’ He pointed. ‘There. There is a sump there. I remember we used to dive through it.’ He began stripping off his clothes until he was down to breeches and shirt. ‘You keep on trying to reach them, I am going down to have a look.’

‘My lord,’ Bailey protested. ‘It is too risky.’

Roland ignored him, grabbed a helmet with a candle on it and started to run up the side of the hill towards the smelting mill. ‘Bring a rope,’ he shouted behind him. ‘A hammer, a drill and some explosive.’

A quick search about the tussocky grass and boulders that littered the hillside revealed a hole. It was smaller than he remembered it, but at the time he had been a boy, not a full-grown man. Robert Bailey followed with two men, one of whom carried a coil of rope. Roland took it from him and tied the end round him under his arms while another man lit the candle on the helmet and handed it to him. ‘Pay it out as I go,’ he said, lowering himself into the hole and taking the tools and explosive from the engineer. ‘If I give two sharp tugs, that means haul me up, and three tugs means tie it off. I’ll release myself before carrying on.’

‘My lord, I do not think you should be doing this.’

He ignored the engineer’s protests. ‘Tell your men not to give up digging.’ He was almost out of sight when he added. ‘Has anyone alerted Miss Cartwright?’

‘No, we did not want to worry her in the middle of her ball.’

‘I think she would want to be told,’ he said and continued to descend. He smiled grimly. Charlotte would be furious at being kept in the dark, especially if lives were lost and the rumour went round that she had been enjoying herself while her men were dying.

Charlotte, who had spent what was left of the night after the ball ended going over and over her predicament, tossing ideas this way and that to no good effect, emerged from her darkened room the next morning and told Emily her headache had gone. She had drunk too much wine, become too hot and gone outside in the damp air to cool down. Oh, she knew it had been a foolish thing to do and she had suffered for it, but now she was well again.

‘Good,’ Lady Ratcliffe said. ‘I expect we shall have any number of callers today, paying their respects and complimenting you on the success of the ball, though I found it disappointing in one respect.’

‘Oh, what is that?’

‘The Earl did not stay and he was closeted with Martha Brandon alone for several minutes. It can only mean one thing.’

‘So?’

‘You have lost him.’

‘I never had him.’

‘You could have done.’

‘I did not, do not, want the Earl of Amerleigh for a husband, Aunt, I wish you would believe it. Now I am going to get ready for church.’ She was determined to go, if only to prove that what had happened at the ball had not in any way affected her. Determined to prove her un-hoydenish-ness, she dressed in a forest-green taffeta day gown, a short green velvet cape and a straw hat with a green ribbon.

If she had expected to see the Earl at the service, she was disappointed. The Countess and Mr and Mrs Temple and Captain Hartley took their places in the family pew without him, a fact that had the congregation looking at each other with raised eyebrows. Charlotte concentrated on the service and pretended not to notice. As she and her aunt were leaving, Lady Brandon and Martha joined them. Charlotte bade them good morning with a smile that she hoped would cover the cracks in her armour.

‘I had to be the first to congratulate you on your ball,’ Lady Brandon said, falling in beside her as she made her way to her curricle. ‘And to tell you what happened between the Earl and Martha. It would be dreadful if tattlers like Lady Gilford came to you with the wrong tale. I want you to be able to tell them the truth.’

‘The truth about what?’

‘The Earl of Amerleigh offered for Martha, but she refused him.’

‘Refused him?’

‘Yes,’ Martha put in placidly. ‘I told him we should not suit.’

‘But why?’

‘I do not like him well enough—is that not reason enough?’

‘The poor man is devastated,’ her ladyship put in when Charlotte did not answer. ‘He told Martha he would have to leave Amerleigh to make a recovery from his disappointment. Goodness knows where he has gone, but I heard he left this morning.’

‘Oh.’ He had obviously made the offer when he and Martha disappeared from the ballroom, and that was before meeting her in the garden. Had he kissed her again out of disappointment or to prove something to himself? Or her? Oh, if only she knew! But what would knowing what was going on in that complex brain of his avail her? ‘But how can he be gone? There is so much he still has to do here.’

‘No doubt someone else will do it. It is his mother I feel sorry for, that she should lose him again so soon after him coming home. And she was so happy too. I could spank Martha, I really could.’

‘Mama, I told you, it would not serve. We should make each other miserable and he agreed with me.’

‘I never heard such nonsense, you had him in the palm of your hand, and you let him get away. I hope he realises it was your shyness over the honour he did you that made you answer in the negative and will ask you again.’

‘He said he was going away.’

‘So he did, but he won’t be gone for ever, will he? When he comes back, we will arrange a quiet supper party, to welcome him back. He must know that young ladies do not always accept an offer on the first time of asking; it keeps a man on his toes to turn him down at first. He will ask again or I shall want to know the reason why.’