Chapter 24
The carriage wheels crunched over the gravel as they rolled to a stop before the front steps of Ravenshollow Park. Before the footman could lower the step, the doors of the house burst open.
Amabel ran out first, her hair loose behind her, her cheeks flushed. Julian followed close behind, shouting for Cecily before he even reached the drive.
Inside the carriage, Cecily leaned forward so quickly that the earl almost laughed. Her hands pressed against the window frame, her eyes bright with excitement as she watched the children racing toward them.
He watched her with a quiet sense of relief. He had feared she might return withdrawn or uncertain, but the brightness in her expression told him she had not lost her place here.
“They have been waiting since this morning,” he said, unable to hide his smile.
Cecily turned toward him, breathless with anticipation. “I can see that.”
Cecily was already halfway to standing, eager to get out. The earl rose with her, steadying her with a light touch and guiding her toward the door as the footman lowered the step.
“Go on,” he said softly, still smiling. “They will not wait another moment.”
Cecily stepped down just as the children reached the carriage.
Amabel collided with her first, wrapping her arms tightly around Cecily’s waist. Julian grabbed her sleeve and held on as if afraid she might disappear again.
Cecily laughed, bending to gather them both close. “I missed you, too,” she said, her voice warm and full.
“We thought you were gone forever,” Amabel said, her voice tight.
“You did not even say goodbye,” Julian added.
“I am sorry I frightened you. I should not have left without speaking to you,” Cecily said, kneeling to be at their height.
The children pressed closer, as if afraid she might vanish again.
Julian looked up at her, his voice tiny. “Why did you leave?”
Cecily smoothed a hand over his shoulder. “I thought I had to,” she said softly. “But I realized that this is where I belong.”
Amabel leaned in even closer, her cheek pressed against Cecily’s arm. “Will you help us be ready for the recital?” she asked, her voice hopeful now instead of frightened.
Cecily smiled, warm and certain. “Of course, I will.”
Tobias stood a few steps behind them, watching the scene unfold. Their faces were brighter than he had seen in months, and he felt his own heart full and at ease.
This is what I must protect, he thought, more resolved than ever. This joy. This ease. This way they become when she is near.
Cecily rose, smoothing Amabel’s hair. The children stayed close to her sides as if they belonged there.
Tobias stepped forward. “The house is better with you in it,” he said quietly.
He had not planned to say it, but the words had risen before he could stop them.
He did not regret them. He only hoped she understood that he meant them without expectation.
He watched her reaction closely, searching for any sign that he had overstepped.
When she gave a slight smile, he felt his heart lighten.
Rosamund stepped down next. Weatherby was already on the ground, calling for a footman to see to her luggage and make certain everything was taken inside. Rosamund handed over her small bag, and Weatherby directed the footman toward the steps with a quiet, efficient gesture.
A second footman approached at a quick pace, a sealed note in his hand. He bowed as he reached Tobias.
“My Lord, this has just arrived from the mine.”
Tobias took the note, broke the seal, and skimmed the contents quickly.
The shift in his focus was immediate. Whatever warmth he had felt moments before gave way to the familiar weight of responsibility.
His expression tightened as he folded the paper with care, already calculating what would be required of him.
“Amabel, Julian,” he said, turning toward the children, “Why don’t you go inside and begin your practice? That way, you can play something for Miss Marwood when she comes in.”
Amabel brightened immediately. Julian nodded, still holding Cecily’s hand for a moment before letting go. The pair hurried up the steps, their excitement carrying them through the open doors.
Once they disappeared inside, Weatherby stepped closer. His voice dropped. “What is it, My Lord?”
Tobias handed him the note. “The final count is complete. The injured are almost all out. The foreman requests my presence to inspect the damage.”
Weatherby read the lines quickly, then returned the note. “We should go at once.”
“We will,” Tobias said. “But I must see the ladies settled first.”
Cecily stepped forward, her voice gentle. “We can settle ourselves. Truly. Go and tend to the mine. They need you more.”
Tobias looked at her, gratitude softening his features. “Thank you.”
Weatherby strode toward the waiting horses. Tobias gave Cecily a final nod, then turned to follow.
Within moments, the two men mounted and set off down the drive, the sound of hooves carrying across the grounds as the ladies made their way inside.
They rode quickly, the horses settling into a steady, urgent pace as the road curved toward the mine.
The closer they came, the more the mood around them shifted.
The village was no longer in the frantic state it had been earlier, but the worry had not lifted.
People stood in small clusters along the roadside as a few men still hurried around, their faces drawn.
Women held shawls tight around their shoulders, watching the riders pass with anxious eyes.
The air grew colder as they neared the work area, a sharpness settling over the yard. The noise of the men ahead carried across the open space, tense and purposeful. Tools clattered. Voices called instructions. A cart creaked under the weight of supplies being moved.
Tobias and Weatherby slowed their horses as they entered the yard. Several miners looked up, stepping aside to give them room. The foreman saw them at once and came forward, wiping dust from his hands as he approached. His face was drawn, the strain of the day clear in the lines around his eyes.
“My Lord,” he said, as Tobias dismounted, “we have cleared the lower shaft. All men have been accounted for save one, but we have confirmed he was not inside at the time. He appears to have left the site entirely. Mercifully, no lives were lost.”
Tobias nodded once, his expression set. “Take me to it.”
Weatherby dismounted beside him, ready to follow.
“Tell me again about the man unaccounted for,” Tobias said as they neared the shaft entrance. “How is it possible that he was not found with the others?”
The foreman straightened his shoulders. “We have confirmed he was not inside at the time of the collapse. Several men saw him leave the site before the shift ended. He did not report back, and no one has seen him since.”
Tobias’s expression tightened. “He left without notice?”
“Yes, My Lord. He gathered his things and walked off. No one thought much of it until we counted the men.”
Tobias shook his head. Men did not simply walk away from a shift without reason, especially not on a day like this. He exchanged a brief look with Weatherby, both of them understanding the implication without speaking it aloud.
He gave a curt nod and walked to the damaged lift frame. The men nearby stepped aside as he approached, their voices dropping to a low murmur. Dust still clung to the beams, and the smell of earth and iron hung heavy in the air.
He slowed as he reached the frame, taking in the warped shape of the structure. One of the iron brackets had bent in a way that did not match a simple failure. He crouched to examine the bolts, steadying himself with one hand against the timber.
Several had been loosened, and one was missing. He leaned closer, studying the threads, the marks left behind, and the pattern of strain. He ran his thumb along the edge of the bracket, feeling the unnatural twist in the metal, then stood, his expression hardening as the truth settled into place.
This was not an accident,” Tobias said gravely.
Weatherby looked at him. “You are certain.”
“Yes.”
The foreman shifted, glancing again at the twisted bracket. “I felt the same, My Lord. The way the metal bent did not come from strain or age.”
Another man stepped forward from the group. He was older, his coat marked with dust, his hands rough from years underground. He removed his cap as he approached.
“If I may speak, My Lord,” he said. “I have worked in mines since I was a lad. I have seen frames fail from rot, from poor timber, from overuse. This is none of those. Someone interfered with it.”
Tobias studied him. “Your name?”
“Mr. Hale, sir,” the foreman said. “He is our most experienced inspector.”
Mr. Hale nodded. “Those bolts were loosened by hand. I would swear to it.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hale,” Tobias said. He motioned for Weatherby and the foreman to follow him. They walked away from the shaft, far enough that the noise of the yard covered their voices and no one could overhear.
Only when they were out of earshot did Tobias turn to the foreman, his voice quiet and steady. “How long had the missing man been here?”
“Only a few days, My Lord. He signed on at the start of the week.”
“Who did he work beside?” Tobias asked. “With whom did he speak?”
The foreman shook his head. “No one in particular. He kept to himself. The men say he answered when spoken to, but he did not seek company. He took his meals alone, and then left the yard the moment the day’s work ended.”
Tobias looked back at the foreman. “Is there anything else you know about him? Anything at all?”
The foreman shook his head. “No, My Lord. Nothing more.”
Tobias nodded once. “Very well. We will work on finding him.”
He glanced toward the stretcher being carried across the yard. “Let me speak to some of the wounded.”
The foreman stepped aside to lead the way.
Tobias walked with him toward the injured men. Two were seated on crates near the entrance, their arms in slings. Another lay on a stretcher with his leg splinted. Tobias stopped beside the first man.