of course,” the young man said, as if this should have been obvious. “The ground may freeze as hard as iron, but at least it’s some protection from the gales from the north. If we didn’t build this way, homes and offices would be torn from their foundations during the winter, and we’d arrive in the spring to nothing but debris. The Firstwater Mine is like an iceberg, you see—ninety percent underground—and that includes the settlement as well.”
Claire nibbled on the inside of her lip to stop herself from telling the young man he was boring her to tears, and could they return to the office where the meeting was, please?
“Lady.” Maggie tugged on her skirt. “Lady, I’ve got to—to—” She rounded her eyes in a wordless plea.
“Sir, thank you for a most informative tour,” Claire said at once. “But I am very much afraid my ward and I must find a powder room posthaste.”
He blushed scarlet, and pointed. “L-lady Dunsmuir’s powder room is in that row there, third stair from the end. I’ll take y—”
“I wonder if I might prevail upon you to tell me more of the engineering side of mining?” Andrew put in smoothly, taking his arm and walking on.
The young man looked over his shoulder in some distress, but Claire took care that he should see nothing but a lady hustling a child to the nearest facilities. “Well done, Maggie.”
“I weren’t fibbing. I’m fit to burst.”
They located the indicated door without difficulty, and found the tastefully appointed powder room empty. And what luck—somewhere in the neighborhood was where the meeting was to be held, if the gentlemen milling about in the square outside were any indication.
When she and Maggie had completed their ablutions, Claire whispered, “We must find a way to hear what they’re saying. See if we might get into ~izedt">she an the ceiling.”
But they could not. On one side, the single window was at ground level, the ceiling not much higher. Other than the door, there was no other exit.
Behind her, Maggie opened the other lavatory stall, and drew in such a sharp breath that Claire turned. “Lady, look. This ent a loo at all.”
Expecting to see a sink or cleaning supplies, Claire was intrigued to see an empty cubicle, neatly paneled in wood. “I cannot imagine her ladyship ordering this for mere entertainment. Do you suppose it is something like the hidden closet you found at home?”
A few taps upon the panels revealed its dimensions, and it was only the work of a moment to spring the latch. A set of steps descended even deeper into the ground. “Maggie, you are a treasure. Where do you suppose these go?”
“Dunno. Let’s find out.”
Cold air breathed up from the depths, and Claire was glad once more that they had both worn coats. The steps were clean and well kept, which meant this passage was not secret, and was even regularly used. A thin line of electricks glowed along the ceiling.
“Lady! A signpost.” Maggie squinted at it in the dimness and spelled out the words slowly. “Managing Director that way. Owner’s soo—syu—”
“Suite.” Claire turned to gaze down a second passage, equally gently lit.
“Supplies. Mess Hall.”
“Good heavens,” Claire said. “These are underground streets. That young man was not exaggerating. It is like the Tube in London, Maggie, so that people—or perhaps only the Dunsmuirs—do not need to venture aboveground in the cold.”
“I thought everyone left when it got cold.”
“But if a storm should strike early or late in the season, one must still come and go.”
“Which way, Lady?”
“The Managing Director’s office. I wonder where we shall come out?”
A short distance down the corridor, they found another set of stone steps. “Quietly, now.” At the top, she pressed the latch slowly, and pushed the door open a scant half inch. The two of them pressed one eye to the gap, one above and the other below.
In the time it had taken them to find the door, the men had gathered around a heavy mahogany table—the Dunsmuirs, Count von Zeppelin, Captain Hollys, and the mine officers. And what she heard during the next half hour made her wish that her corset had not been secured so tightly, because she felt a distinct need to gasp for air.
Maggie sat on the steps after about ten minutes, and when that proved to be too cold, she got up and went exploring down the tunnel. Claire took this in at some level, but like the iceberg, ninety percent of her mind was