He stepped into the mine and glanced around. Several carts stood unattended. A quick glance showed them all the same, empty of coal, scrubbed of any trace.
Alex made his way into the shaft that Everly mentioned in his note to Georgina. Even from a distance, he saw the difference. The area was clearer than it had been that morning, emptied, swept, and disguised. But the braces remained. And the wood told the truth. It groaned above him.
He ran his hand along the beam’s edge. The damp wood swelledbeneath his palm. One careless step, one too-heavy load, and the beam would give way. This was what Everly had warned her about, and yet no workers repaired it. No hammering. No crew. It’s been left to fail. Why? Were they too busy setting the stage?
Footsteps sounded beyond the shaft. Alex straightened, turning toward the mine’s entrance.
Not hurried. Not panicked. Measured, as though time itself bent to their arrangement.
He stepped into the light just as the Ravenstock carriage rounded the bend.
The last of the daylight caught her first. It caught the strands of hair that had slipped from their pins, brushing gold across her cheek. It caught the delicate line of her collarbone and revealed, he suspected, by a gown, that Mrs. Hemsley had coaxed a fraction lower than custom, and with great calculation.
She stepped down from the carriage alone, her back straight, her chin lifted. Her bonnet hung by its ties in her hand, as if she hadn’t bothered with it properly, or hadn’t cared to.
He had expected her to come prepared. He had not expected her to be alone. Or to look like this, poised and unsparing and utterly unlike the woman he’d once known. Like determination and courage and, damn it all, like temptation wrapped in dusk and defiance.
His throat tightened, a slow, unwelcome heat coiled low beneath his ribs.
Georgina’s eyes swept the yard before finding him. Whatever uncertainty she might have felt in her chest, she did not show it on her face. Her gaze caught his, steady, clear, and unflinching.
No falsehood between them. No performance. Only two people caught between danger and something far more dangerous.
Alex moved to meet her, his stride unhurried, deliberate. As he neared, his eyes skimmed her hair, the gentle lift of her shoulders, and the answering pull in his chest, as inevitable as the tide.
“You came,” he said, his voice low, rougher than he intended.
She tilted her head, her lips curving with quiet audacity. “Of course I did.”
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then, drawn by something unseen, the space between them narrowed. Alex studied her, openly this time, not with haste, but with the attentiveness of a man who missed nothing. Especially not now.
“You shouldn’t have come alone,” he said, but there was no censure in it. Only something deeper. Quieter. Concern, yes. And something far more perilous.
“I didn’t,” she replied evenly, stepping closer so the space between them narrowed. “I brought my determination. And my patience, for whatever performance they’ve planned.”
Her voice carried the same warm defiance as her earlier glance. Her chin tipped up a fraction higher, just enough to catch the wind as it teased another strand of hair loose from her pins.
Alex reached up, instinct outweighing caution, and brushed the curl back into place. His fingers grazed her temple, lingering a breath too long before he dropped his hand.
The faint hitch of her breath told him she had noticed.
As had he.
“We won’t give them the show they expect,” he murmured, his voice pitched low so only she could hear. “Then we’ll give them something better.”
Her brows lifted, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “Better?” She echoed.
“A distraction,” he said, his meaning curling between them like smoke. “If they want to play at innocence, we’ll let them believe we’re too caught up in each other to notice the sleight of hand.”
Her lips curved, not into a full smile, but into something far more dangerous: agreement.
“They’ll think they’ve outwitted us,” she said softly.
“They will,” he confirmed, his gaze never leaving hers, “until it’s too late for them to run.”
The silence stretched between them, filled only by the wind stirring the coal dust at their feet and the distant creak of the pulley lines.
