“Yes, you’re right,” Hannah said, shaking herself from her momentary reverie. She’d had enough time to think. Now was the occasion for action.
She stormed ahead, twisting through the passage as it narrowed and then suddenly turned into a sizable storage room before constricting again. The tunnel-like structure was mostly dark. In a few places, the plaster had crumbled away, and the lathe had broken. Light from the main underground room oozed in through those sections, along with the shouts from the crowd. By the sound of it, Lizzie had landed at least two strikes against Blackglen while managing to dance just out of reach of his quarterstaff.
“There’s a staircase,” Eoin whispered near Hannah’s ear, and for a moment, she needed to close her eyes against the onslaught of unexpected emotions. It reminded her too keenly of their embraces—embraces that would likely never occur again.
Hannah focused instead on the rickety jumble of wood, which was more akin to a ladder than steps that led to a hatch in the ceiling. The group hadn’t transversed enough ground toreach what Hannah suspected was a secret viewing area. But she also didn’t know if such a place even existed.
“I’ll go first,” Eoin said.
Before Hannah could stop him, he’d scrambled up the haphazard arrangement of planks. Luckily, it held his weight. Eoin pushed on the trapdoor, but it only opened a scant inch.
“Is it latched from above?” Hannah asked as she started to climb too.
“Yes, but I can easily break it.” Eoin shoved on the wood. The sound of metal scraping against metal was quickly followed by the cracking of oak. The covering popped free.
“Not subtle but effective,” Hannah’s father said quietly.
Both Hannah and her mother shushed him, but fortunately, Eoin didn’t appear to hear. He was already pushing his head and shoulders through the opening.
Two women screamed—the sound high and piercing. The rumble of a man’s voice followed. Eoin quickly ducked back down, slamming the broken hatch behind him. Even in the low light of the lantern, Hannah could easily detect his blush.
“That was one of the brothels.” Eoin sounded choked even as he managed to speak succinctly.
Hannah’s father started to laugh heartily, but her mother shoved her elbow in his gullet. He instantly doubled over before he straightened.
“Ow!” Papa rubbed his belly and shot his wife a baleful look. “What? It was amusing.”
Hannah’s mother did not deign to answer. Her expression, though, was withering.
“Let’s keep exploring!” Hannah attempted to assuage the awkwardness. Unfortunately, her overly bright tone only drew more attention to the situation. Quickly, she jumped down from the ladder, allowing Eoin to follow.
Their group moved quietly forward. A few minutes later, Hannah spotted another trapdoor in the ceiling. This time, though, there were no stairs or ladder.
“If you get on my shoulders, you could push it open as long as it’s not latched,” Eoin suggested—his usually steady gaze flicking back and forth from Hannah’s face. It was clear that he still felt uncomfortable around her, and her parents’ presence wasn’t helping.
“That should work.” Hannah almost winced at how stiff she also sounded.
Hannah handed her lantern and pistol to Sophia while Eoin bent for Hannah to climb onto his back. Fortunately for her sanity, her petticoats provided enough layers that she didn’t feel his muscles against her thighs.
This is simply the most practical solution, she reminded herself sternly.This is not an excuse to be physically close. It is the only option.
After Eoin stood up, Hannah quickly clambered to his shoulders. They needed to move efficiently, and her heart couldn’t handle much more.
This trapdoor had a lock installed on it, but thankfully, the second key that Hannah tried worked. Once unlatched, the wood panel was light enough for Hannah to easily push it upward. Peeking through the small crack that she’d created, she spied nothing but darkness.
“I need a light,” she whispered.
Sophia held up the lantern, and Hannah snagged it. Using one hand to raise the door, she lifted the lamp and allowed a small glowing circle to escape into the blackness. Copper winked, and cobwebs hung like the Spanish moss that grew on the island home of Hannah’s aunt. Emboldened, Hannahlaid the lamp on the floorboards above her and hoisted herself into the room.
“Hannah?” Eoin whispered from below, his voice threaded with worry.
“It’s just an empty space.” Hannah spoke in her regular tone as she retrieved the lantern and held it high above her head. Sure enough, disused stills shined in the warm glow. “This chamber must have been used for gin production.”
When Hannah walked, she sent puffs of dust into the air. There were no windows here, and she could spy no other entrances. It would have been a very secure place to make illegal spirits, and by the sheer quantity of equipment, it must have been an extremely successful operation.
She rapidly walked the perimeter of the warehouse-like facility. She hoped to find some abandoned records that might prove the identity of the Purveyor. However, she came across nothing but a few angry rats.
“Are you safe up there?” Eoin wasn’t even trying to hide his worry, but Hannah still didn’t know how to interpret his concern. It was clear that, despite her lies of omission, he still cared for her. But was it enough? And was it fair for her to push for a relationship despite all that had transpired?
