Dangerous Seduction: A Nemesis Unlimited Novel (17 page)

She opened the door. Simon stood on the threshold, his expression serious. Her stomach knotted.

For the past three days, they’d been circling each other warily, their conversations brief but fraught with things unsaid. He kept his plans to himself. For good reason—or so he’d have her believe. Still, it gnawed at her that she couldn’t be told what, exactly, he planned.

She couldn’t forget their kiss, either. She’d toss and turn in bed, body and mind restless. Had the heat and desire between them been a result of the excitement of that night? Did it mean more? At least twice she had had to stop herself from marching up to the bachelor lodgings in just her nightgown and shawl, and pound on the door, demanding answers. Any answers.

These thoughts flew through her head, and she realized she’d been staring at Simon wordlessly for a good second or two. She probably looked daft.

Stepping back from the door, she tipped her head, signaling him to come inside. He did, ducking as he entered to keep from hitting the low jamb. The cold night clung to his clothing. He smelled of cool wool and man. She caught herself inhaling deeply.

She shut the door behind him. For good measure, she locked it. Only the managers and the store locked their doors. It seemed ridiculous for any of the workers to lock their doors—no one had anything worth stealing—but some enterprising builder generations ago had fitted locks into all the houses, and tonight was the first time she could remember making use of it. But the look on Simon’s sternly handsome face was enough to tell her the precaution was needed.

He stood in the middle of the small room, not anxious, exactly, but filled with a restless energy that seemed to press against the walls and fill the little kitchen with his presence.

“Tea?” a nervous Sarah asked.

“That’s kind of you, Mrs. Carr, but I have to decline. Business brings me here, not social calls.”

“What kind of business?” Henry demanded, rising from his chair with his pipe in hand.

As Alyce leaned against the front door, Simon glanced back at her. Their gazes caught and held for a moment, before he looked away.

“This business.” He produced a folded piece of paper from his pocket, then held it out to Alyce.

She took the paper, her fingers briefly brushing against his. Unfolding it, she saw it was a telegram. She herself had never received one, but Will Penrose had gotten a telegram a few years ago when his cousin had been killed in a boiler explosion working on a naval steamship. The news had been sad, but most in the village had been amazed that the accident had occurred on a Wednesday, and it had taken only a day for news to reach Will. No waiting for the post.

Not that Alyce got letters, either. Everyone she knew lived within shouting distance.

But now she focused on the telegram she held.

She rubbed her eyes and frowned down at the paper. She stared and stared, minutes going by. “The dame school we went to wasn’t as fine as Harrow, but I can read, and I can’t make a crumb of sense of this. All I can see is that it came from London.” She held the telegram out to him.

He took it and slipped it back into his pocket. “It’s encrypted. Marco came up with the code. Nemesis uses it for all our communications.”

Who Marco was, she had no idea, and she didn’t especially care at the moment. “Then why show it to me?”

“Because you need to know the plan’s in motion.”

“Ah, so now I’m allowed in on the scheme.” It was difficult to keep the tartness from her voice, but, damn it, she didn’t like being on the outside of things, especially if they concerned the mine or the running of the village.

He gave her a dry look that said he wouldn’t rise to the bait, and a brief wave of annoyance washed over her. He was the professional here, not her. When it came to matters of justice, he was the expert—galling as it was to admit, even to herself.

“And because I’m going to need you for the next step,” he added.

“I’m in,” she said at once.

Everyone in the room looked at her, but only Simon’s glance lingered. Then he retreated behind cool expertise. “You’ll be taking a risk. A big one.”

“I’m still in.”

“Alyce—” Henry said warningly.

“You want your child born into poverty and corruption?” she replied.

Henry looked startled. Both he and Sarah placed their hands protectively on her swollen belly.

Doubt always clung to him, with a wife and coming baby to protect. He’d avoid risk—but Alyce had a freedom, and burden, Henry didn’t. She had no husband, no children. But the village and workers … they were her responsibility. She couldn’t back down.

“What do you need from me?” she asked Simon.

He tore his glance away from the picture Henry and Sarah presented. “The names of the most trustworthy miners. And a place where we can all meet without worrying about Tippet or any of the company’s cronies finding us.”

She didn’t know what he planned, but the fact that he entrusted her with what had to be a crucial part of his mission filled her with satisfaction. And pleasure. All the workers at the mine knew how hard she labored for them, but only Simon treated her as if she were as capable as any man. He had faith in her.

“I can do that,” she said.

*   *   *

Lanterns threw swinging patches of light upon the cavern walls, revealing in wild arcs stone walls streaked with red. The cave echoed with the sounds of two dozen men in heavy boots. Their voices didn’t carry as far. Most of the men kept their talk to a minimum, walking in tense silence, wending deeper into the cave. Though Alyce knew these men almost as well as her own family—including Henry, who made up part of the crowd—they kept throwing her wary glances. Maybe the looks were for Simon, striding beside her. Either way, no one was at ease.

“This place is safe?” Simon whispered.

“Most everybody in the village knows about Carndale Cavern,” she whispered back. “Used to be a slate quarry, but it shut down over twenty years ago. Now it’s a place for being alone when you’re walking out with someone. Once you get married, though, you stop coming to Carndale.”

A corner of his mouth inched up. “Might get embarrassing if we run into some buck and his sweetheart getting familiar with each other.”

“Even lusty lads and lasses are snug and asleep in their own beds at this hour.”

“What about you?”

She lifted one brow. “I’m not in bed.” She glanced down at her feet, then back up, her eyes wide. “Maybe I’m sleepwalking.”

“I mean, did you ever come here?”

Now it was her turn to smile. There was a slight gruffness in his voice, belying the casual way he tried to ask his question.

“A time or two,” she answered and, despite the tenseness of the situation, she almost laughed at the brief look of ill temper that crossed his face. The lantern light made him look angular, severe. “But it was always too cold down here,” she added. And, in truth, it was. A damp chill clung to the stone walls like an unpleasant memory.

“You needed to find the right lad to warm you.”

Oh, he was a cheeky one—
that,
she knew for certain.

“In any event,” she pressed on, “the cavern’s completely hidden from the village. No one knows we’re here.”

The stone floor sloped abruptly, but she knew to expect it, and nimbly climbed down despite Simon’s offer of help. He, too, jumped down to the next flat expanse, agile as a fox. The men continued to walk ahead, casting long shadows, the gleam of their lanterns curving up the cavern walls. Everything beyond the lanterns was covered in darkness. The miners paid it little attention—all of them used to being belowground, in the dark.

Women and children weren’t allowed into the mine or below the surface. Alyce resisted the impulse to wrap her arms around herself, despite the eeriness of the place. The few times she’d been here, she’d been too young and foolish to give the cave much thought, but now old legends of dark fairy kingdoms beneath the hills came flooding back to her.

She glanced at Simon through her lashes. Though he was blond, not dark, she could easily see him sitting atop a fairy kingdom throne, with that charmer’s smile, those sharp cheekbones and vivid eyes. The kind of creature who beguiled mortal girls, luring them away from the hearth fires of home, never to be heard from again.

Of all the times to spin silly fantasies.
She kept walking.

His hand on her elbow stopped her. “These men,” he said quietly, flicking a gaze toward the men marching ahead. “They’re to be trusted? None of them will run to the managers?”

“You asked me to pick the most trustworthy of the miners,” she answered, “and I did. None of them are loyal to the owners or managers. They want what we want. But that doesn’t mean getting them on our side is going to be a May Day fair.”

“Never expected it to be. But,” he added with a gleaming smile, “I can be persuasive.”

She sniffed. “Don’t overestimate your charm.”

“I got you to say ‘we’ and ‘us,’ instead of ‘you’ and ‘I.’ That’s worth something.”

She hadn’t even realized that she’d been doing that, damn him. But somewhere over these past weeks, especially after they’d made the theft and switch of the butter, she
had
started thinking of their cause as a united one. That they worked together as a unit rather than two individuals who happened to be walking down the same road.

The kiss they’d shared hadn’t helped to keep her mind clear, either.

“I can’t win them over on my own,” he added. “They don’t know me, not truly. There’s only one way I can get the miners on board with my plan. Only one person they genuinely trust.” He gazed meaningfully at her.

She started. “You mean Henry.”

“No, I mean you. They know you want what’s best for them, what’s best for everyone. Maybe you don’t see it, but I do. When the workers look at you, it’s with respect. With faith. And for good reason. Because you give a bloody damn, and not many do.” He drew in a deep breath, as though calming himself, quieting his voice. “They’ll follow you, Alyce.”

The revelation shook her. Here she’d been thinking that her rabble-rousing had been only tolerated, but now that she gave it closer consideration, she realized that there’d been hundreds of tiny instances when men and women at the mine had approached her, asking for advice. Should they press for a promotion? One of the bosses had been leaning hard on them—what should they do? All this time, she thought those questions had been typical, the kind idly kicked around like footballs. But people didn’t approach Evelyn with the same questions. They didn’t ask Edgar for advice.

God—had she been a leader, and never truly known it?

So strange, this odd mix of feelings: surprise, pride. Even … modesty. It was a hell of a duty.

He seemed to sense her wavering feelings. “Just yesterday, there was an argument among the bal-maidens about divvying and weighing the dressed ore.”

“How’d you hear about that?”

“Nothing’s a secret at Wheal Prosperity. I heard that they came to you to help figure out how to portion everything properly, so no one got cheated. And you did. But things like that seem to happen every week, if not every day.
You’re
the one the workers respect, the one they trust. Where you lead, they’ll follow.”

God—the responsibility. It could crush her, if she wasn’t strong enough. But she had to shoulder the burden. Hell, she’d been carrying it all this time, and remained standing.

Finally, she nodded. “I’ll try to convince them.
If,
” she added, “I agree with your plan. You’ve got to convince me, first.”

His smile returned. “Never thought otherwise. Now, we’d better catch up, before they start getting restless.” As she and Simon continued walking, he asked, “Where are they heading, anyway?”

The snaking tunnel opened up, and she spread wide her arms. “Here.”

The cavern arched overhead, streaked with more minerals, lit by nearly a dozen lanterns. A large underground lake filled most of the cave, shining dark as ink. Where the lantern light touched its surface, the rocky lake bed revealed itself, shallow in some places, then disappearing into the recesses of the cave like gateways to other worlds. A few empty bottles littered the ground and the bottom of the lake—testament to the lads and lasses who’d come here to escape the tight bounds of the village and their families. More than a few babes had been born after visits to Carndale.

Thank God no one had ever tempted Alyce enough to take that risk. Most of her female friends were married by now, with passels of children. Much as she looked forward to the coming of her future niece or nephew, she couldn’t see herself as anyone’s mother. But she’d be a good auntie. If the baby survived its first perilous months.

Pushing those dark thoughts aside, she faced the men who gathered at the edge of the underground lake. They looked warily at her and Simon.

“Why’d you bring us here?” one of the men demanded, breaking the silence. His voice echoed sharply off the stone walls, and he clapped his mouth shut.

“We’re not here for a bit of slap and tickle,” Edgar said, more quietly.

“No offense,” Simon replied, “but you lads aren’t my sort.” He stared at each one in turn. “I’ve asked Alyce to gather you here because she tells me you’re the most trustworthy men at the mine. That you aren’t the managers’ toadies.”

“Like hell we are!” Christopher Tremaine said, then also quieted when his voice, too, echoed. “But who the devil are you?”

Alyce realized that not all of the men knew Simon—most were married and worked in the pit, and had little occasion to cross paths with him. “This is Simon,” she said. “He’s the new machinist. But more than that, he’s here to help.”

“With what?” a man asked.

Simon spoke before she could. “With the fact that, in order to talk about your jobs, you’ve got to hide in a cave.”

The men muttered in response.

“Wheal Prosperity’s changed,” Alyce said. “Everyone knows it. Scraping by just to earn chit. The profits going into the owners’ and managers’ pockets, and none into ours. We can’t even say a word of protest without fearing that the constable thugs are going to beat us senseless or drag us to gaol.”