Page 49 of An Earl’s Sacrifice (The Clandestine Sapphire Society #3)

Lucius took the items, then her arm, and guided her to the settee before the fire. “Where’s the damn brandy when one is in need?” he demanded to no one in particular. He dropped beside her and studied the crest.

“They match the one on the document,” she whispered.

Mr. Ashcroft padded across the carpet with hardly a sound. Yet each step seemed to pound in rhythm with Meredith’s blood. He picked up the damning paper with its yellowed age and brittle edges. She felt ill in the passing seconds.

His own countenance seemed to go pale as he read. “Jesus.” The whisper echoed about her skull with the force of an ancient anvil.

*

“How informative,” Ashcroft bit out. The bitterness in his tone was as mysterious as it was, also, telling.

Lucius leaned in and brushed his lips over Meredith’s. “We’ll get things sorted out, darling.” He stood and moved back to the table beside Ashcroft. Lucius sorted through the other papers Meredith had found, marveling at how she’d found that compartment.

In a wine cellar.

In the floor.

It boggled one’s mind at her deductive reasoning.

Lucius possessed no such intelligence. But rather than resenting her superiority in that particular area, he found his chest welling with an unspeakable pride.

It stunned him to the bottom of his soul.

His fingers stopped at a familiar page that was years old. One he’d seen before yet… hadn’t.

“What is it?” Ashcroft said softly.

“A map. There’s a similar one in Thornfield’s office.”

Ashcroft took the delicate sheet and stared down at it.

Lucius leaned forward. “I believe it’s a layout of the mine.”

The map was brittle with age, its edges curling inward as though reluctant to reveal its secrets.

Ashcroft laid it on the table and smoothed it flat as carefully as he’d applied the salve to Lucius’s shoulder.

Ink lines, faded yet precise, were sprawled across the surface, delineating the mine’s complex layout with an unsettling exactness to the one on Thornfield’s office wall.

The top was marked by a bold “X” that appeared to mark the mine’s entrance.

The mark helped in orienting one’s position.

Just beyond a large open area, two main tunnels diverged, fanning out like tributaries from the Thames.

The passage to the left ended abruptly in chaotic scrawls and jagged lines, annotated with a single, ominous word: “Danger.”

Ashcroft set a blunted fingertip to that area. “This here is where the most recent cave-in happened. Where Tommy Trenwith died.”

Where rubble and sorrow coalesced Lucius didn’t say. Didn’t need to say.

The tunnel to the right twisted with meandering lines that grew thinner and more intricate—as if the cartographer had hesitated to commit to the certainty of what lay beyond.

Numerous smaller veins appeared to splinter off, labeled with unfamiliar names—“Polmear Seam,” “St. Eustace,” “Silverhope”—indicating sections already mined and were perhaps abandoned, their riches long since extracted beyond usefulness.

The central shaft was marked with a thick, almost gouged circle.

The mine’s fulcrum? Notes in cramped, spidery handwriting surrounded it: “Ore pulleys,” “Staging grounds,” “Rest house.” It was clear this area served as the bustling hub, the heartbeat of its operation.

From there, tracks snaked outward, annotated with precise measurements, revealing a well-organized network for transporting the tin to the surface.

Near the bottom-right corner, the map shifted. The lines were darker, more deliberate, unlabeled, indicating the deep recesses. A cavern was sketched in unnerving detail that raised the hair on Lucius’s neck.

Unlike the rest of the map, this section projected a fervent intensity that seemed to leap from the parchment. The shading was more intricate, the dimensions painstakingly noted and marked by an enigmatic phrase: “Sanctum Inviolatum.” Sacred and unviolated.

His breath hitched. He traced the area with an index finger.

Surrounding the cavern, faint marks suggested barriers or collapses, intentionally or naturally sealing it from view.

“No opening is indicated,” he said grimly.

Scrawled next to the cavern was: “Chamber of Rest.” How easy it would be to dismiss this as a romanticized euphemism, but the ominous undertones were difficult to ignore especially in light of the note Meredith had discovered.

The far edges of the map showed more winding tunnels, their paths looping and doubling back, as if the mine itself did its best to confound intruders—at the least, one attempting to decipher the map. Several other paths were annotated with warnings: “Flood risk,” “Unstable rock,” and “No entry.”

Ashcroft tapped the map with one finger. “These notes seem to serve as genuine precautions.”

“Or serve as a clever misdirection,” Lucius returned.

“Yes,” Ashcroft returned softly. “My exact sentiment.”

Lucius glanced up at his unlikely partner in crime. “I do believe a visit is required.”

“Tonight?”

“Of course—”

“Absolutely not.” Meredith had moved quietly and disturbingly close. She shoved between them. “No. I won’t have it.”

Lucius caught her by her one upper arm, planted a kiss on her full lips. “We’ve no option, darling. We’ll be careful. Don’t—”

Her finger landed gently across his lips. “Don’t tell me to not worry. I have a horrible feeling.” A single tear spilled over her bottom lash. “I will not be placated.”

“All right,” he said in a low voice. “Can’t you see? We have to go. We’ll return as soon as we can. With no one the wiser.”

She dropped her hand and escaped into her bedchamber.

Lucius stared at the closed door. He was torn between haring after her and setting plans in motion with Ashcroft. He glanced at Docia. “Stay with her.”

Her blonde curls bobbed with her agreement, and she hurried after Meredith. The door latching behind her was as final as the sealing of a tomb.

“Back to the business at hand,” Lucius said gruffly. “We’ll go on foot. If we arrive after the third shift settles in, there’s less chance of drawing notice…”

Ashcroft’s head dipped a sharp nod. “Horses would be too noticeable.” He turned back to the map, then tapped a spot in that far left corner. “Look here.”

Lucius pushed Meredith from his mind. Concentrating on her fear was too detrimental for a task fraught with so much at risk. He focused on the practicalities required. He leaned in attempting to dissect what he was looking at. “I’ll be damned…”

Ashcroft’s eyes took on a menacing glint. “Suppose it’s another entrance?”

Lucius grinned. “Only one way to find out.”