I have posted two chapters tonight, so make sure you read the earlier one first!

xx Elise

~D&D~

Chapter 26

Promises

The ringing in Jasper's ears finally faded enough for him to hear the sound of his hacking coughs. He covered his mouth with the hem of his untucked shirt in a vain attempt to filter the air, but it made little difference as his lungs were already filled with the choking dust.

"Sir? Mr Whitlock? Ye be orright?"

Hardly. Jasper turned his head in the direction of the voice, not that he could see anything in the inky darkness.

"Bob?" he rasped between hacking coughs. "Bob Hatton?"

"Aye, 'tis me," said the supervisor who had requested Jasper's presence at the Fulbright mine earlier that morning.

Jasper had known he would be cutting it fine, as he had a luncheon engagement at Masen Manor. But the missive had said the matter was urgent, hinting at the possibility of uncovering the identity of whomever was behind the string of "accidents" and other strange occurrences plaguing the estate.

"Are ye injured, sir? Can ye move?" Mr Hatton added after a bout of his own coughing had subsided.

"I . . . I don't know." Jasper tried to take stock of his position, but his senses had been dulled by the explosion, or whatever it was that had rendered him prone. "Let me see if I can rise." His weak, scrabbling attempt to push himself up brought a groan to his lips. If he had not been aware of the pounding in his head before he had tried to lift it, he certainly was now.

Ignoring the throbbing pain and nausea, he tried again to push up off the cold, rubble-strewn ground but to no avail. His legs were trapped beneath a fallen beam, his fingers catching splinters off the rough timber when he felt for what was holding him down. To his relief, he could wiggle the toes on both feet within his workmen's boots, neither leg shooting through with anything more than mild pain for his efforts.

"Pinned down but not too badly hurt," he muttered between panted breaths. "What about you?"

"Much the same, though I think me arm is broke," the crusty supervisor replied. "I can feel a boot and part of a leg sticking out from beneath the rockfall beside me, so I'm guessing Jack is done for. 'e was standing next to me when she caved."

"Damn." Jasper raised a hand to rub at his eyes, finding a wet, sticky mess. Feeling for the source of the blood dripping down his face, he discovered a sizeable gash above his right eye. "What about the other fellow? Yelson, was it?" Jasper's head swam at the effort required to recall the name of the second of the two guards they had set to watch the mine in hopes of preventing any further sabotage—unsuccessfully, it would appear.

"I don't know about Yelson, sir. He was standing back a ways, so 'e might 'ave escaped."

Mr Hatton's breath was coming in harsh pants, and Jasper hoped it wasn't more than the man's arm that had been injured.

"How long has it been?" he asked, reaching as far as he could but not coming into contact with anything other than cold, damp rock. "Have you heard anything from the other side? Any tapping or calls?"

"Nay, not a sound other than the rock's settling until ye started yer coughing. Right glad I was to 'ear ye were alive. As to 'ow long we've been down 'ere, I couldn't rightly say, but I'm thinking the better part of an hour."

Jasper tried to think, a near impossibility with the continued ringing in his ears and pounding in his head. Further exploration with his fingers revealed a sizeable lump on the back of his skull and at least two more cuts, if the pain and stickiness were anything to go by. With neither man in any state to attempt an escape from their rocky prison, he decided to address the most pressing issue. It took a few goes, as he was enfeebled by the blows that had rendered him unconscious for a time. But he eventually managed to tear a strip of cloth off the bottom of his shirt and tie it around his head to stop the flow of blood. The effort triggered another bout of coughing.

What he wouldn't give for a drink, but he had left his flask tied to his saddle, not having planned on being gone for long. He certainly hadn't expected to find what he suspected was the hidden loot belonging to Crowley, his benighted predecessor.

His mind still struggling to escape the fog of pain and confusion, Jasper vaguely recalled what it was that Hatton had wanted to show him—a chest filled with a veritable treasure trove of misappropriated funds intended for the running of the Masen estate during Edward's absence, along with sundry smaller heirlooms known to be missing from the manor. Hatton had discovered it whilst investigating a small chamber uncovered in the most recent cave-in. They had not long opened the chest when the rumbling began, warning them another collapse was imminent.

Jasper's best guess was that Crowley had hidden the loot before fleeing. He had likely been sneaking in at night, knowing of Edward's refusal to keep the mines open twenty-four hours a day. Whether Crowley's attempts to reclaim the booty had merely weakened the mine or he had deliberately sabotaged it, Jasper couldn't say. But he didn't doubt the man's actions had cost all the recent lives lost.

What Jasper did doubt was whether he and his unlucky companion would ever see the light of day. He had ridden to Fulbright, and his horse was tied in a croft of trees a little way from the mine. If Yelson hadn't escaped to raise the alarm, it could be some time before their whereabouts were discovered. Whilst Jasper doubted either Hatton or he were at imminent risk of succumbing to their injuries—though he could be wrong, considering the intensity of the pain in his head—there was no knowing how long their air would last.

Another groan escaped his lips. He had spent more than two years in fear of losing his son, and now, just as the lad was recovering, there was every chance he was going to leave him orphaned. At least he had his grandmother and aunt to care for him, not that they had any resources with which to do so. He should have asked Edward if was willing to reciprocate, to take on the role of Peter's godfather. Although, knowing his friend as he did, he needn't fear. Edward wouldn't let Jasper's family starve.

Which didn't mean Jasper was ready for death, not when he had just begun living.

"Alice," he murmured into the darkness, closing his eyes against the sting of unwelcome tears.

~D&D~

"How much longer?"

Alice held her breath while she waited for someone to respond to Rosalie's question, even though the answer was unknowable. The men were digging. A body had been found, and they were in the process of retrieving it—not Jasper's body, the two women had been assured. Now they stood, Alice's medical supplies at the ready, in hopes that the next person recovered was alive, not dead.

"Don't worry, Rosalie." Edward wiped dust from his hands and patted his sister-in-law's shoulder. "Jasper is too hard a nut to be easily cracked. We'll pull him out alive, I am sure of it."

Edward turned and disappeared down the dark tunnel while Rosalie dabbed at her eyes with a lace-trimmed kerchief and Alice seethed quietly. They had managed to talk Jasper's mother into staying behind to be comforted by the Reverend Swan and help keep an eye on Peter. But Rosalie had insisted on accompanying Alice and Edward to the mine, saying she could be of assistance and promising not to get in the way.

"I should be there in case Mr Whitlock needs me," she had said.

To do what? Alice had only just managed to refrain from shouting.

As far as Alice knew, Jasper was barely acquainted with Isabella's middle sister, as it was Tanya, not Rosalie, who regularly visited Peter. Even if he had made polite conversation and the silly girl had misinterpreted his good manners as matrimonial interest, it wasn't as if they had come to any sort of arrangement.

As far as she knew.

Jasper had told her he intended remaining single, but his main reason, that he couldn't afford a wife, would be rendered obsolete if he married into Edward's family. After the revelations of the day, Alice would have to ask him if he had changed his mind and decided to court Rosalie after all. It made sense for him to do so, and it wasn't as if he and Alice had anything more than a secret arrangement based on promises that were far from binding.

"So, you and Mr Whitlock." Alice turned to face the fair-haired woman at her side, speaking softly so they wouldn't be overheard by the onlookers who stood milling around. "Has he . . . have you . . ."

"Come to an agreement? No, but Edward assures me it is just a matter of time." Rosalie's smile was sad, her distress seemingly genuine.

"And you . . . love him?" Alice couldn't resist asking even though the question was shockingly personal.

Rosalie blinked several times then stared at Alice for a long moment. "I think the more pertinent question is do you? Is there something between you and Mr Whitlock that I should know about?"

Alice shook her head to dispel the numbness that had blanketed her like a fog. "No, we are just friends. I mean, I have come to like him, of course."

"Yes, he is very amenable." Rosalie's frown lightened. "As long as you're sure I have not encroached on your territory?"

"Not at all." Alice's vision blurred, and she averted her gaze lest Rosalie see the sheen covering her eyes.

"That is good to hear," Rosalie said with a relieved sigh. "I had wondered about the two of you, but you have said, many times, that you have no intention of marrying. If circumstances were different, I suspect Mr Whitlock would be courting you, not me."

Alice couldn't bring herself to deny the other woman's claim. "That doesn't bother you?"

"Why should it? You and I are a lot alike. I think you and Mr Whitlock would have fared well together if he could have afforded you and you had been willing to abandon your profession, so I imagine he and I shall fare equally well. He is a good man, a wonderful father, and he will make an excellent husband."

"Yes, he will." Alice managed a faint smile, spurred by the faintest of hopes. If Rosalie were in love with him, she wouldn't speak in such a cavalier fashion of her intended bridegroom being happily married to another woman. "Since you don't appear to be emotionally attached to Mr Whitlock, are you sure you don't want to wait until you have had your season in London to make such an important decision regarding your future? You are an heiress now. You could find yourself a titled husband, one with political connections that would complement your interests in social reform."

Turning away, Rosalie stared into the dark maw of the mine. "Isabella always said I would have trouble finding a husband, since I am too blunt and can't abide fools. But it didn't bother me, as I never intended to wed. Then I saw how happy Edward made her, and I found my resolve weakening. Spinsterhood isn't an easy path for a woman to travel, but I am aware that gentlemen like my brother-in-law are few and far between. I can't risk marrying a man who will try to . . . to force me to his will." A shudder rippled the cloak draped around Rosalie's shoulders, and she faced Alice. "It is actually your friendship with Mr Whitlock that convinced me he would make a good husband. That and his manner with his son. The two of you didn't start out on the best of terms, but he was willing to put aside his prejudice, and swallow his pride, to ask for your help. That shows good character. Plus, Edward thinks the world of Mr Whitlock, and I trust Edward."

A sob rose up in Alice's throat, one she fought to hold at bay.

Rosalie's logic was sound. Admiration and respect were good reasons for choosing a spouse, but would they be enough for Jasper? Enough for him to marry a lady he didn't love but who could restore his financial position?

Everyone else seemed to think so—Edward, Isabella, the vicar, even his own mother.

If Alice loved Jasper, and Peter, she would want what was best for them both, and that clearly wasn't her sorry self. No one was cheering for Alice, as they weren't even aware of her position in Jasper's life. If they were to discover it, they would be shocked beyond measure rather than supportive. The idea she was his secret wife was a farce, as she had made herself the man's mistress, nothing more. She couldn't begin to compete with Rosalie.

A faint, wavering light appeared in the distance of the dark tunnel into which they stared. In time, Alice made out the form of two of the rescuers half carrying a man between them.

"Mr Whitlock?" Rosalie called while Alice bent to collect her bag. "Is that you?"

"Nay, Miss," one of the rescuers replied. "This 'ere is Mr 'atton, the mine supervisor. 'e said 'e's got a busted arm before 'e lagged on us. 'e said the air was almost gone when we broke through. In the nick of time, we was."

"What of Mr Whitlock?" Alice asked as they lay the bedraggled fellow on a pallet she had prepared. "Is there any news?"

"Not yet. We'll leave Mr 'atton in your 'ands, Miss Brandon, and go back to 'elp the viscount with the search for 'is friend. God forbid something should 'appen to 'im, but 'e refuses to stay back where it is safe."

"Then you must force him." Rosalie grabbed the man's arm. "He is too valuable to risk."

"Easier said than done, Miss Swan, but we'll do our best."

"This is a nightmare." Rosalie slumped down on the far side of Mr Hatton's body. "Isabella won't survive if anything happens to Edward."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Alice muttered, tamping down her own fears and focusing on her patient. An examination of the barely conscious man revealed multiple visible cuts and bruises on his face and hands and a definite fracture in his upper left arm. She wasted no time cutting away the already torn cloth of his jacket and work shirt, relieved to discover no bones sticking through his flesh or excessive disfiguration. If the break was clean, there was a reasonable chance it would heal with the aid of a splint and a sling.

After preparing a draught for his pain, she gestured for Rosalie to help raise the man's head, so she could administer it. Once he had drunk it down, and engaged in a fit of painful coughing, he managed to answer Alice's questions with a few rasped words.

"No, I ain't 'urt anywhere else, miss. Just me arm."

"And Mr Whitlock? Do you know if he is alive?"

"Aye, we spoke for a bit. 'e said 'e was trapped, and I think 'e must have taken a blow to the 'ead, as 'e kept drifting off. Talking nonsense 'e was . . . and praying. Kept asking for ye, Miss Brandon, over and over again, unless there's some other Alice he be frettin' after. Not sure what that was about."

Alice didn't respond to Rosalie's questioning look but lowered her head, so the other woman wouldn't see the tears pooling in her eyes. Turning aside to fashion a splint, she took the opportunity to wipe her eyes in what she hoped was a surreptitious fashion.

"Here, let me." Rosalie knelt beside her and took from her shaking hands the cloth Alice was planning to use for a sling.

"No, I can do it." Alice tried to retrieve it, but Rosalie stayed her with a hand to her arm. A sob rose in Alice's throat, and her shoulders began to shake.

"Shh." Rosalie patted her gently. "I am sure he'll be all right. Edward will get him out safely."

"Yes, of course." Alice reluctantly met Rosalie's sympathetic gaze, her lower lip trembling. "You must think me strange."

Rosalie shrugged. "Despite your protestations to the contrary, I think you love him," she said in a low voice, so they wouldn't be overheard. "And if he's been calling your name, I imagine the feelings are mutual."

Alice considered saying that Jasper was only calling her name because he was in pain and knew she would have the means to provide him relief. But Rosalie was far too astute to believe such a feeble lie.

"Feelings fade, especially when they cannot be acted upon," she said instead, her already breaking heart splintering at the realisation her time with Jasper was over. "An alliance between the two of you would be very beneficial to Mr Whitlock. He is an honourable man. I am sure he wouldn't be planning to propose unless he believed the two of you could make a good match, that he could come to love you in time."

"And you would be agreeable to this?"

"I want what's best for him and Peter." Alice's breath came quickly, her chest heaving with emotions she wasn't quite sure how to contain. What she did know was that if Jasper survived this ordeal he deserved a life that wouldn't put him at constant risk. "Just promise me you will try to love him in return."

~D&D~

Gah! That endings not much better than last chapter, though at least we know Jasper is alive. Plus, I think he'll have something to say about Alice's decision to hand him off to Rosalie. My darling hubby (who rarely sees me since I've gotten back into all this 'book' stuff) would like my company, so that will have to do for tonight.

Until tomorrow,

xx Elise