He does not explain who these are, his people and hers. There is no need. The poor and the rich. A week ago she would have said: the corrupt and the righteous.

“I am only a schoolgirl,” she says quietly. “What can I do?”

“You are the next Baroness Naylor,” Francis answers. And then he bows to her. She did not know a bow could combine mockery and admiration. Before she can respond, he has turned around to lead her back.

ф

They don’t speak again until they have entered the lovers’ cave. It remains empty of people. She knows this from its sounds; the quality of the air: Francis has once again doused the lamp. Livia finds she does not mind. It is oddly comforting to have returned to the dark.

“How long have we been down here?” she asks.

“Six days.”

The number gives her a shudder. Six days buried under the earth. And yet it seems much longer to her. She must have lain down to sleep a dozen times. Catnaps; her natural rhythm when divorced from the sun.

“Is anyone looking for us?”

He answers slowly, picking his words with great care.

“Yes. There is a rumour you’ve been in the village. Someone’s spending an awful lot of money to find you. The men who know you are here, they have given us their promise. A holy oath. But it’s an awful lot of money, and some have more mouths at home than they can feed, and others have a child that wants the doctor.” A moment later he adds: “Lizzy says your friend is better. Able to stand. To walk.”

“So that’s why you came to me today! We are placing you in danger. We will go, of course.”

He presses her hand at that, lifts it up, touches his forehead with it as though receiving her benediction.

“My father will fetch you.”

She hears him walk away. Even his gait has a certain elegance to it, a gentle purpose. It makes her smile. Were he a few years younger, and a little more handsome, she might grow to like him almost as much as Charlie.

“Do you ever take her down here?” she whispers after him, gesturing sightlessly into the cavern. “Your girl. The one who won’t stop talking.”

His voice reaches back to her, so soft she might be imagining it.

“No. When the time comes. . on our wedding night — I want to share her Smoke.” Then: “There is life in Smoke, Miss Naylor. Communion. What people do down here, that’s something else.”

He says no more. And leaves her wondering what it would do to her, kissing Charlie out in the sun.

ф

She seeks him out soon after and tells him that they have to leave.

“As soon as possible, Charlie. We are endangering the miners.”

If Charlie is surprised, he does not show it.