Through the Smoke

He was right. Rachel knew it the moment he said the words. Providing her cries were heard, they’d probably be interpreted as a bump on the head or some smashed fingers or a million other minor accidents that happened all the time.

“Why not make it easy, Rachel?” Henderson suggested. “Give us what ye gave the almighty earl, an’ we’ll look after ye down ’ere.”

“Ye need some allies,” Greenley agreed. “We’ll stand by ye as Henderson says, which is more’n Lord Druridge ’as done.”

Only a full tub of coal stood between Rachel and the men. Behind her the passage narrowed into a crawl space that ended in fifteen feet or less. “If you touch me, I will go to him,” she threatened. “I will tell Druridge, and he will sack you.”

Greenley laughed. “Ye’re not worth four good hewers to ’im. Besides, it’ll be your word against ours, four upstanding citizens against a whore.”

“Come on, Rachel, we’re no fancy-smellin’ earls, but there’s no need ter turn yer nose up,” Collingood added.

“The earl’s twice the man you four could ever hope to be!” Rachel shoved the tub at them with all the strength she had left. It hit Collingood, still on his knees, in the chest and knocked him back.

Greenley jumped left but there was little room to maneuver in a tunnel less than five feet square. He suffered a glancing blow to the shoulder, which slammed him into Thornick and Henderson and took them all down.

Rachel tried to run past them, but someone caught her by the ankle. Using the walls to hold herself up, she wrenched her foot away and, in a flurry of panic, kicked Henderson in the chin as he was getting up. With a curse, he threw up an arm to protect himself, but by then Greenley had grabbed her skirts and was pulling her down.

A moment later, Rachel could feel the rock floor cutting into her spine as Collingood’s face loomed above her.

“Do ’er now,” he told Greenley, pinning her down with one hand and squeezing her breast with the other.

She screamed and squirmed but her efforts were futile. She couldn’t hold off four strong men. “Help me! Help!”

“’Old her tighter!” Greenley’s rough hands clawed at the insides of her thighs as he tried to force her legs apart. “I’m goin’ ter show ’er what it feels like ter ’ave a real man, not some fancypants earl.”

“You touch her or anything else that belongs to me, and I will kill you.”

Druridge’s voice was unmistakable. He stood not six feet away, with Wythe at his side.

Greenley, Collingood and the others released her and pressed back against the walls like cockroaches suddenly exposed to the light. Rachel tried to push her skirts down to cover her legs, but she was shaking so badly she couldn’t manage the volume of material.

“We meant nothin’ by it,” Greenley said.

“We weren’t really goin’ to do anythin’ but give ’er a good scare,” Collingood chimed in.

“We thought ye’d already cast ’er aside. We wouldn’t ’ave touched ’er if we thought ye still ’ad use for ’er, m’lord,” Thornick added.

Fury and contempt flickered on the earl’s face. “Get out,” he said, stooping to wrap his cloak around Rachel. “Get out and don’t come back.”

“My lord—” Wythe’s eyes darted between the hewers, the earl and Rachel. “These men have families to support.”

“Then let them go home and explain to their wives and children how they lost their jobs trying to rape an innocent young woman.”

“But how will they live?”

“If it were up to me, they wouldn’t. Give their families some wages so they can survive until these men find other work, but I will not have them on my payroll another day.”

Wythe’s jaw clenched. “She is only a village wench, my lord. Some of these miners have worked for us for years. We arrived in time. There wasn’t any harm done. Couldn’t we leave them with a warning and be about our business?”

Truman pulled Rachel up beside him. “A warning?” he repeated. “Knowing what you knew, you should have put her anywhere but down here. Pray I don’t throw you out with them. How is that for a warning?”

Wythe looked as if he would continue to argue. His eyes sparked with anger. But he bowed in acquiescence, pulled a pistol from his belt and waved it at Greenley and the others. “You heard him,” he told the men. “Collect your things and get out.”

The earl drew Rachel away with him. As they left, she felt the hatred of the four men hit her like slugs in her back.

“Bloody whore!” one shouted. “’E’ll tire of ye before long, an’ then where will ye be? No one will want ye.”

“Good thing ole’ Jack’s gone,” Greenley said, his words more effective despite the softness with which they were spoken. “’T would kill ’im to know ye’ve turned on yer own.”

Rachel winced at the mention of her father and summoned the strength to stand on her own. If she left with him now, she’d be crossing an invisible line—the line to his side. Once she did that, there would be no going back.

But what else could she do? She couldn’t stay. Wythe had been publicly humiliated and would punish her for being the cause of it. She knew him well enough to expect that much. And when word of what happened got out, there would only be more men to replace Greenley, Thornick and the others. She had alienated the miners and could no longer work safely among them.

Unable to continue to support her own weight, she slid down the wall to sit on the floor. What now? If not for the earl, those miners would have raped her. If not for the earl and what had already happened at Blackmoor Hall, they never would have tried.

Did she hate Druridge or admire him? Criticize him or give thanks?

“Please,” she muttered, but she didn’t know whom she petitioned for help: God, or the earl. She only knew that her situation had gone from bad to worse since the day he first appeared at her shop.

“Are you injured?” Druridge bent over her.

She shook her head. “I will make my own way out… in a moment. Th-thank you for your help. I am g-grateful. Or at least I’m sure I will be when I sort everything out.”

He looked back at the men who were gathering their picks and shovels. “You have to choose, Rachel,” he said. “And now is as good a time as any.”