John escorted Anna back to her shop, his hand over hers on his arm. She giggled at his joke, hiding her face behind her hand, and John could not stop beaming. They kept pace with one another, the cool of the evening giving them both the shivers, but John wondered if that was the only reason she shivered. His shivers had very little to do with the cool wind.
A lamplighter skirted them, tipping his hand and watching his swinging pole to ensure it did not hit either of them as they crossed paths on the pavement, and Anna sighed. "What a thankless job."
"Lamplighters?"
She nodded, "They've got to be out all night trimming lamps, lighting them, checking them, filling them, and then dousing them in the morning. They're constantly covered in oil and soot and wax and more than a little singed and bruised. Especially the younger ones." The pitying sigh she gave the nameless man who crossed their path swelled John's chest. "It's just a shame no one really notices what they do until they're not doing it."
"Isn't that life though?" John let her lead the way across the empty street. "We don't notice what we don't have until it's gone?"
"More often than not." Anna paused in front of her door, hands manipulating her small bag. "I don't suppose I should invite you inside."
"Given the hour and our respective duties I'd say, probably not." John shrugged up his shoulders, jamming his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "Not that I'd have any ability to say no if you did."
"Mr. Bates," Anna huffed her feigned affront, hand on her chest. "What kind of woman must you think me?"
"The best of them."
It slipped out before John could even connect his brain fully with his mouth. His eyes widened, mouth fumbling and opening only to shut again in a rush. He took a hand to his hair, as if pushing through it might also push back time to replace his words with something else, and then tried to say something else. Maybe he could help her- help them- forget he ever said anything at all.
But before he could say anything she spoke, her voice soft but still audible. "I think you are the best as well."
Neither could look at one another, both finding anywhere to look but at the person standing less than a foot away from them. Eventually John summoned his breath, and his courage, to meet her eyes. The silence between them held every hope humankind ever had while gazing at someone who meant more than they were supposed to in a brief period. With nothing more than a few conversations, a few deep comments that bared their souls to veritable strangers, and finally revealed themselves to themselves.
"Ms. Smith-"
"Mr. Bates-"
They both stopped, laughing to both express their nerves and try to burn off the anxiety of the moment bearing down on them. When they recovered themselves, John opened his hand to Anna. "Please, ladies first."
"Thank you." Anna pulled at the fabric of her bag. "I think… I think there's a difficulty being in the position we occupy."
John frowned, "I don't understand."
"It's…" Anna took a breath, "We've known one another less than a month and yet it's difficult to deny that I feel very strongly about you in a way I can't really express."
"Words don't often fail me either but I do know what you mean." John brought his other hand from his pocket. "I want to be near you, Ms. Smith, as much as I can and I've no real reason for why."
"Me either." Anna gave him a smile, the tugs of emotions played over her face until she simply let the small smile settle. "I feel like we're more of the same than we are different."
"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." John paused, "It's… It's from a-"
"I've read Wuthering Heights." Anna put out her hand, almost as if she fought herself in her desire to touch him. John closed the distance and allowed their fingers to entangle. "I rather enjoyed it."
"So did I." John took a breath, "That's what I feel, with you Ms. Smith."
"Me too." Anna inched a step closer to him. "And while I won't invite you up to mine for a drink or whatever kind of polite gesture I'd use to cover what would inevitable be a threat on our mutual virtues, I will beg your indulgence for a very unladylike request."
"Unladylike?"
"Well," Anna managed a bit of a nervous grin. "I'm not a lady, and I don't pretend to be so-"
"You're a lady to me." John hurried, biting on his tongue at the thought of interrupting her but realizing she stopped to hear him. "You are, Ms. Smith. And I dare say I've never met a finer one than you."
"Then," The muscles in her throat drew his eye a moment as she swallowed before staring him down from her diminutive height. "Would you do me the honor of a kiss goodnight, Mr. Bates?"
"I believe," John stepped closer, leaving nothing between them but the rustle of material as their clothes brushed over one another and reminded them of the feeble barriers separating their scorching skins, "It would be my great privilege to honor your request."
Neither of them breathed. It might ruin the moment. But as John dipped his head, and Anna used a gentle hand on his waistcoat to steady herself when she rose on her tiptoes, the world stopped for them. All life halted as if to take part in the grand expression of inexpressible emotions through one of the simplest acts shared between two people.
And then the world started again.
Their lips met gently, tentative and frightened that the other might decide to pull away at the last moment. Afraid of appearing the fool in a farce put on for the amusement of those hiding in the shadows of the night. Afraid they had failed to encapsulate the extent of their emotions and this would reveal the disparity between their respective emotions.
None of those fears manifested.
John's hands, ignorant of the best position at first, found themselves slotted rather comfortably at her waist and fitted along her jaw. Her fingers did not remain stagnant on his waistcoat and soon found that curling into the material kept them closer together. And both of them soon learned the curves and dips of the other's mouth enough to adjust deeper in their care.
Edging his tongue along the bottom of Anna's lip, John's ears twitched at a sound. Anna's grip on his made him ignore the noise until it sharpened and suddenly John broke away, pivoting in an instant to put his body between whatever came for them and Anna. The noises of shock she gave at his reaction silenced the moment the other woman's shape solidified in the dark.
"Well, well, I see why you were so quick with filing those papers." Vera sniffed at them, the unflattering sneer that took the edge of her mouth higher raised John's hackles.
"It was in motion before I came here, Vera. You know that and I'll not have you involving any of my friends in our private affairs."
"Interesting choice of words." Vera paced, trying to peek at Anna but John blocked her view. "First, I don't think you treat all of your friends like that so I must wonder… Did you snog Colonel Lord Robert Crawley like that?"
John ground his teeth, "Leave, Vera."
"Second, I think your use of the word 'affairs' might suggest you've already taken a few liberties with the virtue of this little pixie here." She ticked up another finger, "And thirdly-"
"That's enough Vera." John's voice lowered and he risked a step away from Anna to try and stop Vera but the other woman dodged back. "I'm not going to chase you like a child reaching for candy and I'll not follow you anywhere. If that's what you want and you're going to be very disappointed."
"Then you don't understand me at all." Vera held something in her fingers, wagging it about before flinging it toward John. It fluttered toward the ground but John refused to bend to retrieve it. "I found that in your things and thought it was the cruelest joke you've ever played on me."
John frowned, bending to retrieve the scrap from the ground. It caught the flicking yellow-brown light from the fresh lamp above them and John closed his eyes. As he stood, holding the photograph close, he met Vera's bitterly satisfied smile.
"Are you happy now?" John held the photograph toward her, ruined with scratches through the image and what might have been more than a few stubbed fags. "Now that you've destroyed everything we shared?"
"You only kept that because it was the only photograph you had of her." Vera spit at John's feet, leaning around him to nod at Anna. "I don't know what primrose path he's trotted you down but I do know that you're making a mistake if you stay with him."
"Please leave Vera."
"What?" Vera held her hands up, as if asking how she could possibly be the target of anyone's ire. "Afraid I'll tell her how you used to drink and then we'd go at it like rabbits? Or about how your mother was always first above me? Or about how everything will always be first be her? Or how you'll never quite be the man you want to be but you're enough like your father to-"
John crunched the photograph in his hand and turned on his heel to address Anna. "I deeply regret this, Ms. Smith, but I need to leave immediately. In other circumstances I'd like to wish you a better good night but this will have to suffice for now. I do hope you won't think less of me."
"I-" Anna struggled to speak over Vera's snorted response and inevitable interruption.
"Acting polite now? What? Can't face me in front her? Want to preserve some false image of yourself you gave the poor thing? Afraid she'll know the truth?"
"I think it's best you do leave." Anna drew her key from her bag. "I don't want to cause a scene."
John only nodded, almost reaching for her hand before Vera's guffaw stopped him. Anna could only give him the encouragement of her eyes before vanishing into her shop. The moment the door closed John turned on his heel and stalked back toward his temporary housing.
Vera dogged him all the way there, chattering and nagging back through the pub and drawing the attention of a few faces John recognized before they returned to their drinks. His skin crawled as he imagined the gossip and stories they would spread about him with what little they gathered from the interaction. The darkly humorous thought that plagued John's mind, over the inane yammering Vera continued in his ear, was how much he would prefer the lurid stories to the horrible truth.
The corridor toward their rooms held only one maid but she vanished in a moment and John aimed for his room. But when he opened the door, hoping the wood between he and his wife would solve the problem, it was not the sanctuary he imagined. Vera pushed in after him, closing the door with a definitive snap.
"Now that I've got you alone…" She leered at him, her lips curling around teeth that appeared far more canine than they had any right to.
"It's no different than before." John tightened his grip and blinked, the photograph mangling further in his hand. He pulled it as straight as he could, the crimped and wrinkled edges obscuring the image of his mother beside him while Vera sat on his right arm for the photograph after their wedding. With a sniff, John faced Vera again. "I've moved on with my life and you need to do the same."
"I beg your pardon."
"Whatever the means to you Vera and however you wish to accomplish it, do it." John stared at the photograph one final time before dropping his arm and tossing the only remaining evidence of his mother's face into the weak flames of a barely stoked fire. "But I won't be there. We're not those people anymore and we never will be again. Whoever you are, from this moment forward, you are without me."
"We're still married."
"In a few days we won't be. We'll be strangers to one another and I hope we can remain so until the end of our lives." John went about the room, gathering his things to pack them back into his bags. "And while you'll not believe this, because you never believed me when I was honest, I bear you no ill will. And if we were to meet in some random spot, years from now, I'd hope you found your happiness."
"Where?"
"Anywhere with anyone you choose." John finished packing, closing his bags and pulling them away from the bed. "It just won't be with me."
His hand was on the door when Vera's shot out, digging her nails into his skin like claws. "And what if I have something to say about it?"
"Then you should've written it in a letter ten years ago. Or in a note five years ago. Or to your solicitor one year ago." John pried her fingers away, "You had all the time in the world to say a great many things about it. None of the things you said were helpful or productive or enticed me to stay so I can promise that whatever doors you thought might've remained opened are forever closed."
He pulled his bags into the corridor, pulling the door shut on her as he walked away for what he hoped was the last time.
Anna removed her glasses, rubbing at her eyes as she stared at the notes before her. "I'm not one for knowing handwriting if that's why you asked me here."
"It's more that you could tell us if any of these notes match those you received." Matthew clenched his teeth in a cringe. "I do hope you don't mind Mr. Bates telling us about the note."
"I don't mind." Anna put her glasses back on, studying the notes before her again and then tapping one. "That's the closest but I can't be sure it's an exact match."
"Enough of one is fine." John lifted the note, handing it over to Matthew while he gathered the other notes with his hand. "We're convinced Mr. Barrow wrote a few of the others."
"The more prosaic ones I'd imagine." Anna leaned back in her chair, removing her glasses to tap the tip of the temple against her teeth. "Thomas has always been one for words and he's relatively well-read."
"If there's poetry in them we'll find it." John handed Matthew the others and lowered his voice to speak to Anna. "I'd like to apologize, about the other night."
Anna frowned at him, tucking her glasses away. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"It must've been rather awkward, for you, to experience that."
"It was a bit unsettling." Anna put her hand over John's where it rested on his knee under the table. "But I've seen far worse than a well-managed spat on the pavement."
"It's more what she said." John ground his teeth. "I realized that I haven't been entirely honest with you and-"
"Mr. Bates," Anna stopped him, "I'll have you know that it wouldn't matter what I found out about you. It wouldn't change what I think of you one bit."
"But it could."
"I don't live in a world ruled by the fear of what could happen because I appreciate a world where I make my own future." Anna ran her fingers over his hand. "And, at this moment, I think our more important goal is figuring out who's taking the time to send threatening letters to the Crawley Mining Company."
"I'd hate to waste your valuable time." John winked at her.
"I didn't say it was valuable."
"But it is. Your trade is one of time and craft. We're denying you that privilege by holding you hostage here."
"If I felt the least bit-"
But whatever Anna hoped to say she would have done died on her tongue. A rattled boom shook the room around them and John's hands immediately pushed her under the table. Another blast rocked them and his body covered hers as if he would hold them together by the power of his desire to protect her.
That worry never realized. The room settled and John put his hands to Anna's face, as if to ascertain her wellness without words, and then guided her out from under the table so he could dash out the door with Matthew on his heels. She settled a moment, fingers trembling as she examined herself. And when she found nothing wrong, despite the continuing tremor in her hands, she followed the two men outside.
Chaos greeted her and Anna stayed near the office building to survey the scene. Men covered in grime and soot and dust scattered around screaming at one another while digging their fingers in their ears or stretching their jaws. A few other men, ones fresh on the scene or doing other jobs, hurried to pull men away from the opening of the mineshaft or bring around buckets of water.
Another explosion shook the ground from under them and Anna gripped tightly to the railing of the stairs to hold herself aloft. A tumble down the slick steps would send her flying, arms and skirts akimbo, and given the scene before her this was neither the time nor the place to need the help of men already struggling to see to themselves. She waited for the shaking to die down and then took the stairs to the ground before joining the nearest bucket brigade.
The men around her were not men. They were part of the earth that moved and writhed and howled. She saw to their thirst until her bucket was empty and then offered it to a man as he went to vomit. Her skirt wiped grime from eyes as hands clawed to see before turning to bandages for weeping wounds and smaller cuts. She worked her way through the field of blackened men and tried to make sense of their needs while not wallowing in the overwhelming feeling that she did not belong there.
Women from town arrived, screaming and crying themselves as they searched for husbands, brothers, fathers, beaus, and cousins in the crowd. They brought water, food, and enough tears to do the work of the hot baths that would run black that evening. And they brought supplies.
Slowly they brought order with lines and companies organizing as the terror and fear of the initial blasts faded with the slowing aftershocks. Company leaders took tally of their men, dismissing those accounted for to better clear the field and ensure the necessary care went to those most in need. With the crowd thinning, Anna hoped she might find John but he was nowhere to be seen.
Searching the space, the company commanders only offering vague platitudes, and none of the workers keen to stay so close to the location of their almost-fatal demise, Anna soon stood alone. She wrung her hands, craning her neck toward the entrance of the mine, when a hand came down on her shoulder. Her jump startled the owner and they gasped at one another until Anna calmed.
"Don't frighten me like that Mr. Branson. I've nearly lost my head in all this mess and I'm sick to death with worry."
"So am I. I can't find Matthew and Mary's apoplectic given the explosions and the inevitable afterdamp."
Anna frowned, "The what?"
"If he went down into the shaft then he might suffocate." Branson hurried to explain as the blood drained from Anna's face. "It's a mixture of the vapors and it'll replace the air down there. There's nothing to breathe and Matthew knows that so he wouldn't go down there."
"But if they're not here then-"
Again, Anna's thought interrupted with noise and a tremor. But the tremor this time was Branson's exuberant shaking of her shoulder before he pelted toward the shaft. There Matthew, supported heavily on John, emerged with another man. They staggered like a sickening attempt at a four-legged race before Branson tried to catch all three men at once. They collapsed into him and Anna rushed to their aid, if only to extract a coughing and spluttering John.
"Are you alright?" John could only nod and Anna hurried to find one of the water buckets so he could clear his throat.
He grabbed it with no preamble and drank what did not splash and soak his face. His gasping wheezes had Anna simultaneously slapping his back and hurrying for another bucket to try and clear his mouth of the grime and black. When this one as half drunk he pushed it away to spit and spew to the side before he croaked a few words.
"What did we get ourselves into?" He wheezed but Anna could only shake her head. "Men almost died down there."
"Did anyone?"
"No," Matthew answered, pushing himself up to lean on Branson before they pulled the other man between them. "Mr. Talbot saw to that."
"Stupid blighter almost got himself trapped down there." Branson scoffed at the man lolling a smile between them. "Our intrepid engineer."
"Someone's got to have the brains." Talbot whispered in a voice more hoarse than John's. "And I felt something was up."
"What?"
Talbot shook his head. "Just that sense you get where all your hair goes on end. Something wasn't right and I could feel it in my gut."
Anna went to ask him something else but Branson held up a hand. "Let's all reconvene when we're all breathing normally and not possibly killing ourselves being heroes."
The three men began their four-legged race and Anna bent down to offer John a hand. "Can you stand?"
"I think so." He took her hand all the same and they managed to get to their feet, John leaning as much on Anna as he dared while they staggered back toward the offices. "This shouldn't have happened."
"The fire?"
"Any of it. We're careful. We take precautions."
"It's nature John, it does what it-" Anna sniffed, her face scrunching.
John stopped, sniffing with her, "What do you smelled?"
"It's odd but…" Anna performed a slow, tight circle before leaning close to John and inhaling deeply. "It's coming from you."
"What is?"
"That smell." Anna shut her eyes, digging desperately through her memory. "It's there, somewhere."
"What is?"
"This smell." She jabbed toward his shirt, opening her eyes. "I've smelled it recently. It was on a piece of cloth and…"
Anna almost dropped John when her hand slapped against her forehead. "Of course."
"Of course what?"
"The smell was on Mr. Green's shirt when he brought it in for the second repair. The repair that made it look like his shirt had been singed in a fire."
John stopped trying to get them toward the office, risking a look back toward the mineshaft. "It wasn't just a fire. It spread too quickly and rose too high. It was deliberate."
"Sabotage?"
"With a lot of planning." John wagged a finger, coughing to the side before he spoke again. "Talbot said something was off about everything down there. He must've smelled it too and the fumes alerted him."
"It doesn't smell normal, whatever it is."
"An accelerant?" John suggested and Anna shook her head.
"It might be. I don't use anything powerful to light fires in my house beyond a match but whatever the reek is all over you and wafting out over the afterdamp in there, it was on Mr. Green's shirt."
"You could swear to that?"
"I was a laundress in my childhood and I've been mending clothes for a very long time. I know stains and smells and I remember them." Anna bit the inside of her cheek. "I think this Mr. Green was involved in all this."
"We've not got proof of that."
"We've got my nose."
"For the moment," John tapped her nose and then pointed to the office. "We'll let you keep your nose and get ourselves in side before we continue with our conspiracy theories."
Anna nodded, "You're right. You're in no state right now to do anything."
"I can be with you." John gave her a smile and both warmed Anna's heart and sent a shudder down her spine. "What?"
"We need to get the black off your teeth before you do that again."