Page 51 of The Cornish Inheritance

Chapter Twenty-One

“We have a steam engine here to pump water out of the lower adits,” Nat said, indicating the smoke emerging from the tall chimney. “The best veins head out under the sea—veins of copper and tin, although we’re only working tin here, and have been since before I was born. Not much of a market for copper any longer. Not like there was in my great-grandfather’s time. That was how he made his fortune. To start with. Unfortunately, it all comes from North Wales now, where it’s less expensive to produce.”

Caroline stared out across the foam-flecked sea. “If the veins go out under the sea, does the mine as well? Do the miners have to dig tunnels under the sea to get at the tin?” How awful that sounded. Even in her imagination, the thought of tunnelling under the sea seemed terrifying.

He nodded. “They have to be very careful where they dig and not get too near the sea floor or the sea would come flooding in. There’d be no time to evacuate.”

A shiver ran down Caroline’s back at the thought. “How far out does the mine go?”

“The adits in Wheal True, our other mine, go out a mile at least. These not so far. But some of the old adits in this one are hundreds of years old.”

“Have you been down the mine?” Yves asked, kicking the reluctant Blossom forward. “I’d like to see what it’s like.”

Nat nodded. “Many times, as a boy. I worked here some of my summers when I was old enough. But not for more than eleven years now.”

“Did you go out under the sea?” Caroline asked, another shiver running down her back at the thought of Nat out there with all that water above his head.

Nat nodded again. “Sometimes, when you’re down there, you hear the boulders being rolled about on the seabed above your head by the water, and the roaring of the waves when the sea’s rough. A bit unnerving to start with, but you get used to it.”

“Weren’t you afraid the sea would break through?” Caroline had always suffered from slight claustrophobia and the very thought of being in a tunnel beneath not just miles of rock but the sea as well set her heart pounding.

“You don’t think about it,” Nat said with a dismissive shrug. “Don’t forget. I was a boy then and boys never think of danger.”

An image of Ysella’s older brother Kit, with whom their respective mothers had once tried to engineer a match for her, hanging upside down from a high branch in a tree on the Ormonde estate flashed into Caroline’s head, and she laughed. “Very true. I have yet to meet a boy for whom caution is a natural attribute.”

“So can I go down the mine?” Yves asked, as if to prove her words. “As it’s going to belong to me one day, surely I should be able to see what it’s like down there. I really, really want to go down the mine.”

Nat shook his head. “Not now. You’re too young. Maybe when you’re older.”

Yves’s lower lip jutted in rebellion, but he had the sense not to argue. Nat had about him the air of a man with whom it wouldn’t be a good idea to do that.

Nat turned Duchess toward a long, low building off to one side from the mine workings. “We’ll tether our horses here, by the count house, and see if anyone’s about.” He gave a shrug, taking out his pocket watch to consult the time. “Most of the men should be down the mine, but as it’s nearly time for the changeover of shifts, they should be coming up soon.”

“Do they work at nights as well?” Caroline asked, eyes widening.

Nat nodded. “It makes no difference if you’re down in the dark whether outside is day or night. And it increases production.”

“Is that something Trefusis introduced?” Somehow, if it were Trefusis who’d brought in this regime, it would feel better.

But Nat shook his head. “No. It’s always been done. Shift work employs more men, and puts food on the table of more families. They’re glad to have the work.” He pointed a finger. “The bal maidens don’t work at night though. Just in daylight hours as they work above ground.”

“What’s a bal maiden?” Caroline asked as she halted Folly beside a handy hitching ring someone had embedded in the stone wall of the count house. Yves was already slithering off Blossom, his eyes fixed in longing on the mine buildings. “Yves. Do not run on ahead. This is a mine and it could be dangerous.”

Nat dismounted. “A girl whose job it is to break up the ore the men bring to the surface. It earns them a bit of extra money, which helps their families. They don’t earn what a miner earns though.” He grabbed Yves by the collar. “What did Miss Fairfield just say to you? Stay here. She’s quite right about the danger and you know nothing of how to behave at a mine.”

Yves’s shoulders sagged, but he didn’t run off.

Caroline glanced at the ground. Could she manage to slide down from Folly without hooking her habit up too much? Ysella had the right idea. Men’s clothing was much better suited to riding horses than a woman’s riding habit. But Caroline had until now felt no inclination to dress as a boy, unlike her friend Ysella.

Nat held out his arms.

A curious unwillingness to allow him to help her down washed over Caroline. Not that she didn’t want him to touch her, but more that she didn’t want to be beholden to someone whose motives she didn’t entirely trust. How difficult her feelings were making this for her.

“Let me help you,” he said.

Nothing for it but to allow him to play the gentleman. She unhooked her leg from the saddle’s high pommel and slid down into his arms. How strong he was and how firm his hold on her waist. Unnervingly so, and really quite exciting. She reprimanded herself for having these feelings. She did not want to provoke thoughts like this about him, or indeed about any young man. The only male she could think of right now was Yves. He was the important one in her life.

For just a moment, Nat stared down into her eyes, his hands still firmly on her waist. Was he not going to let her go? She removed her own hand from his arm, where necessity and balance had forced her to put it, and took a step back, out of his grasp. Why on earth was her heart pounding so hard? Had he been able to feel it under her ribs? Under his hands? This was ridiculous. She’d met many men more handsome and eligible than Nat, including the one she’d fancied herself in love with several years ago, before he’d gone off to fight Boney and never returned, but never had she felt quite as flustered as Nat was making her. Warmth crept up her cheeks and there was nothing she could do about it.