Free Gilded Lily by Delphine Dryden

whispered.
    â€œWhat just moved?”
    â€œEverything.”
    As if in confirmation, everything moved again, a disturbing sideways jolt underfoot.
    At the same time, something flashed outside the porthole, and they jerked their heads in unison toward the unexpected light. Barnabas leaped to press his nose to the glass, and Freddie heard him say a word no gentleman should, as the world shifted again and the metal panels groaned. Flying to the next porthole, she gasped as a huge, dark shape in the water resolved into an approaching submersible. It shone a light on the seabed below and in front of it, nearly blinding them when the sub turned and the light blazed into the window for a moment.
    Close, far too close and too fast, the sub loomed toward them, then passed mere inches overhead, just as a klaxon began sounding in some distant part of the tunnel.
    â€œWe need to move!” shouted Barnabas, grabbing her hand and jerking her back down the corridor in the direction they’d just come from. “It’s an earthquake!”
    She scrambled to keep up with him, wishing she’d been more enthusiastic about sport in school. “I thought it was a submersible!”
    â€œAre you joking?”
    To her dismay he let go of her hand and let her lag behind. He was only procuring the torch, however. As soon as he’d cranked it back into glimmering life, he turned and caught her hand up, pulling her along as the ground shivered beneath them once again. They made it to the velocipede and likely set a record for starting it up and bringing it to full speed, racing down the track in the direction they’d come. Freddie lost count of the times one or the other exclaimed as they went how clever they’d been, to turn the cart around before exploring. She knew it was a lie, every time. It had been luck, nothing to do with cleverness. But she would take it, either way.
    The journey was an exercise in the relativity of time. The speed of the velocipede was constant, so they knew it was a half hour out and a half hour back in. But it had seemed like hours as they traveled the distance the first time, into the unknown darkness. On the way back, with their hearts racing from fear, the trip seemed the work of mere moments. They came to a jerky halt as soon as the vestibule was in sight, abandoning the velocipede and heading for the exit at a dead run.
    â€œWe’ve left the cart on the wrong track, and far too close to the entrance!” Freddie realized with horror. “Somebody will know it’s been used!”
    â€œI’m not going back to turn it around. You can do what you like, but you’ll never get that lever down alone.”
    Neither of them stopped running, in any case.
    Barnabas hit the lift first and tugged the door open, then slammed it decisively behind Freddie once she was safely in. The device jerked upward as soon as the door was secured. Overhead the bulb guttered madly, but the motor operated smoothly, to Freddie’s vast relief.
    â€œIt was an earthquake,” Barnabas repeated, sinking down to the floor and resting his arms on his knees as he caught his breath.
    â€œI know. We had two in Le Havre when I was living there.” The space was cramped, but she slumped down beside him, sides heaving. Now that they were relatively safe, she felt foolish for having run. Surely the tunnel had been built to withstand a few minor tremors.
    â€œBut you said—”
    â€œI
was
joking.”
    â€œOh.” He blinked, then smiled hesitantly. “That was quite good, actually.” The smile faded almost immediately and was replaced with a grim look that made Freddie even uneasier.
    â€œThank you. Are you all right, Lord Smith-Grenville? You look—”
Serious. Adult. Not as though you’re having a bit of a lark.
“Concerned about something.”
    He nodded, his lips tightening even more. Now that she was learning what to look for, Freddie saw all sorts