“No, she can’t be.” The words came from Moxham’s lips too easily. The pain in his eyes deepened before he tried to rally. “I just can’t imagine such a thing.”
“Of course not,” Alex reassured him. “I will help you investigate where she’s gone. Someone must know what happened to her.”
“I thank ye.” Moxham twisted his hat again, a flicker of hope twinging his countenance, a thankful smile softening his cheeks. After a few moments without either of them speaking, the heaviness of Mags’s disappearance weighing on them, Moxham heaved a sigh, seeming to try to rally. “As for the mines, explain to Cartwright that buyin’ this is the best thing that could happen to him, that sellin’ his mine has nothin’ to do with that Roylance fellow. Ye are persuasive, that’s what. Make sure ye don’t leave until the mine owner understands how much he, personally, will take home. Ask Cartwright for a wee bit ’o time and more money and try again.”
Cartwright wasn’t the sort to look kindly on excuses or delayed results. Asking for more time was a last resort, but it very well might be Alex’s only remaining option. “You’re right. I’ll try once more to obtain Alnwick for Cartwright. I appreciate your advice, Moxham, especially at such a time.” Alex admired his friend’s fortitude.
“After all ye did for me, I’ll be loyal to ye forever.” Moxham’s somber head dipped, but his countenance still seemed uneasy, his eyes not leaving Alex.
“Would that I could have done more for Rhys.” Alex sighed. But now was not the time to let himself slip into the darkest moment of his past.
“Jenkins!” the bellowing voice of Mr. Cartwright sounded as the door swung open to reveal the man’s livid face. “I have words about your interference with my mine. Do I pay you to be a foreman?”
So the foreman had reported Alex’s efforts to implement and improve processes. “No, sir.” Alex swallowed and stepped inside as Moxham nodded to him and left them, clearly eager to search for Mags.
“That’s right. I pay you to acquire things, not skirt around the mines, digging air shafts.” Cartwright’s thick knuckles tightened as he gripped the edge of his desk and sat behind it while Alex took the seat across from him. “Don’t let me catch you interfering with my miners again. You can read, for heaven’s sake! I don’t employ you to be getting dirty and putting ideas into those boys’ heads about new methods.”
“But, sir, as owner, you can make the greatest impact on the welfare of the workers. If the mines were safer, you’d avoid as many accidents and retain more workers, which is much more cost-effective.”
Cartwright shook his head. “A miner knows full well there may be accidents, and there’s always more people looking for work. As it stands, when I make money, they make money, so Idohave their welfare in mind.” He leaned across the desk and stared down his nose at Alex. “Now, tell me you’ve got the Alnwick Mine deed.”
“Not yet, sir, though I think we are close. I came to ask for more funds.”
After much more negotiation, Cartwright allowed for more time to acquire the Alnwick Mine. Moxham had been right in his suggestion, and as soon as Alex left the mine office, he departed for Alnwick. With any luck, he’d learn something about Moxham’s friend and maybe even persuade Wilkinson to sell his mine.
Chapter 16
A week later a softknock sounded at Charlotte’s bedroom door. When she opened the door, a maid curtsied and held out a tray. “If you please miss, a letter. And Mrs. Cliff wishes to speak with you.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte said, taking the letters with haste. “Call my abigail, will you?”
Once Ellen arrived and started preparing her hair, Charlotte broke open the seal and read the contents of the first letter. In every line, Christopher fumed in anger that she’d fled to Northumberland, and he demanded she return to Town, sure that taking a quick leave of London had only cast suspicion on himself and the family. He said he’d smoothed it over the best he could and gloated about how he was officially courting a Lady Eloise, daughter of the Duke of Chelsea. At least in that he was preoccupied. And at least he hadn’t threatened to come retrieve Charlotte.
If he cared so much about rank and status, he could take on himself the burden of elevating their name. When had she and her brother grown so different? She’d never been as interested in titles and ranks as he was. Couldn’t he see how much value the people right around them had? People like the local musicians and artisans—and mine employees, she added, like Alex. She folded the paper once again, attempting to put Christopher and Alex out of her mind at present.
Here, in Northumberland, she would not let her brother sink his clutches into her.
“Thank you,” Charlotte said to Ellen when the last hairpin was placed. She made her way to the drawing room and instructed a servant to send for the housekeeper.
Mrs. Cliff closed the door to the drawing room behind her. “I thought you’d wish to know how our Margaret fares.”
“Still confused?” Charlotte whispered.
“Yes, but I think her memory is coming back.”
“And the doctor?”
“He said that, physically, she is healing well.”
“I asked Mrs. Laurence if she’d heard about anyone looking for Margaret, but so far, she hasn’t heard anything.”
“And I haven’t heard anything either,” Mrs. Cliff responded. “She’s still quite addled. When she was warming her hands by the grate yesterday, she was mumbling something about, ‘’Tis a wood fire, not coal. That’s a fine thing. ’Tis coal that’s cruel.’ I’ve noticed she shakes a great deal, too, especially when it’s evening or the fire sputters.”
“I see,” Charlotte replied. She thought for a moment. “Could you see that Cook prepares a great picnic tomorrow? I want to take the boys on an adventure. And could you tell Margaret I wish her to come, for I’ll need an extra hand with the boys?”
“As you say.” Mrs. Cliff nodded.
Charlotte wondered if someone out there was wondering about Margaret. If they were making inquiries in different places than Charlotte, how would they ever connect? Margaret needed to regain her memory.
