“Yes.”
“In the dark.” She swallowed hard.
“Yes. All day. Some mines allow them to bring candles, if they have means to buy them. Candles bring danger of explosions, however,” Rhys Morgan said.
Phillip jerked upright. “How so?”
“Firedamp—noxious gases—can build up in the mines. Fire may set it off. Better they sit in the dark.”
“Those poor children,” she murmured.
“Am I correct in assuming the wages are lowest for the youngest?” Phillip stared ahead as they rode.
“Correct.” Rhys didn’t raise Shuttleworth’s jab about maximizing profits, and Madelyn’s respect for him grew.
“Do your policies hurt your profits, Mr. Morgan?” she asked.
“Undoubtedly. Our productivity per worker is higher than average, however. There is balance.” He shrugged ruefully.
Brynn waited, grim-faced, at the turn in the road, watching them come. Just as Maddy reached him, a fallow deer leapt out of the undergrowth and fled into the woods across the road. Maddy struggled to get her startled horse under control. He reached over and took the reins.
“Careful, Your Grace. Where there’s one, there’s—”
Four more followed, the sight driving the dark clouds from her thoughts. “This place is magnificent. How can you stand to leave it?”
The shutter came down on his expression again. “There is beauty to be found everywhere.”
And ugliness behind us. He didn’t say it, but she heard it all the same. Her spirits sank back down. They rode in silence for an hour, until they reached a clearing that might have been pleasant if rain clouds hadn’t threatened, shadowing the glen and adding to the heaviness in Maddy’s soul.
The visit had yielded no information about Gideon, nothing of worth. It had only burdened her with new and unwanted awareness of the source of Glenmoor—and English—wealth. Deep in her own pit of darkness, their entire endeavor felt like a foolish quest with little hope.Even if we do find Gideon, what good will come of it?Maddy regretted drawing them all into her impulse to search.
Phillip and Rhys dismounted. Brynn’s brother brought out a light luncheon from his saddlebags, and Maddy listened silently while the two of them discussed where to go next.
“I want to try Kendrick Colliery,” Phillip told him.
Rhys’s head jerked up. “Kendrick’s isn’t one of yours. Why that one?”
Maddy studied Phillip. She’d been wrong to assume he’d forgotten their primary mission. When they had been touring Glynrhos, Phillip had mentioned Gideon’s Christian name to Fergal. The canny, little manager had responded that he mightn’t know of a Jessop, but he knew one Gideon, the mine owner, Gideon Kendrick.He’s still searching but chasing the thinnest of leads.
Phillip didn’t notice her absorption. “It was on Shuttleworth’s list. It was ours when Gideon disappeared. It is one my father—or my guardians—sold.”
Yes. A connection. But still unlikely.Too weary to consider it, Maddy kept her thoughts to herself.
Rhys Morgan, oddly, approved. Did he think Phillip could learn something about mine operations or Gideon? “Good choice. I know the place. You may find it very different from Glynrhos. In that case, there is no point in backtracking to Merthyr Tydfil. I suggest we ride on to Brynhafan for the night.”
Maddy rode after them in silence, keeping her mount as close to Brynn as she dared, taking comfort in his nearness. They reached Morgan’s home before sunset. Exhausted and heartsick, Maddy begged off dinner and requested a tray in her room. When Rhys suggested they rest the next day and leave Kendrick’s for the day after, she snapped at the poor man.
“No. Let’s do it and get it over with,” she said before dragging herself to her room, to the ministrations of Crenshaw, who took out her resentment at having been left until Maddy dismissed her and brushed her own hair.
There were some forms of exhaustion that did not lead to sleep. This was one of those occasions, Maddy discovered. After fitful attempts to doze off, she lit a candle and tried reading. Deep in the night, she gave up on even that.
She stared into the shadows, envisioning the darkness in the mine, the black-coated faces of the miners, and the shadows in the eyes of the children. A sense of powerlessness pressed down on her. She’d been unable to prevent Gideon from being sent away. She’d run from Glenmoor, leaving Phillip to unfeeling guardians. She’d seen her mother drive her brother Rob into running away, defraud the estate, and abuse Lucy, all with no way to intervene. Helpless. Until Jessop had come and she’d decided to act, to seek belated justice, to…
To what, Maddie? You’ve accomplished nothing. And you can’t help those children.
Lost and alone, she rose to peer out the window overlooking Morgan’s pleasant courtyard. The fickle clouds had parted, bathing it in moonlight and casting shadows from every shrub, every bench, every tree. More shadows. As she started to turn away, a figure, familiar and easily recognized, wandered through the gate as if returning from his rambles.
Brynn.
