Elizabeth rolled over in the large, comfortable bed. It was so luxurious that she could not sleep. What a ridiculous problem to have. She flopped an arm out to the side. After such a long and tiring journey, she certainly could not have anticipated being unable to sleep. She had not stopped thinking of how beautiful and tastefully decorated Pemberley was. Even from the small view out the carriage's window, she had fallen in love with the property. Now she understood Miss Bingley's attempts at catching Mr. Darcy's eye. If the man was more agreeable, she might find herself in danger of acting the same.
Finally, she sighed and sat up. If she could not get to sleep, there was no point in staying in bed thinking about Pemberley when she could explore it. The time was late, no one would know. And she could spend as much time in each room as long as she wanted. An exploration by herself was better than one given by the housekeeper. Though she would gladly attend the housekeeper's tour of the estate the next day.
Elizabeth climbed out of bed and picked up her robe off the chair. Mr. Darcy had surprised her. He was far more genial than she had ever seen him. Perhaps tomorrow his personality would show. Or maybe he was happier at home? She slid her feet into her slippers, lit a candle from the fire in the hearth, then slowly opened the bedroom door. Thankfully, it was quiet. Softly, she walked down the hall on the thick rug. The only noise was the tick tock of the grandfather clock downstairs.
A thrill of excitement shot through her. At home in Longbourn, she would read when she could not sleep. Curled up in a leather chesterfield in front of the fire in Mr. Bennet's study with a book. Or just her thoughts as she looked out the window at the stars in the night sky.
Her slippered foot scuffed on the marble floor of the foyer. She stilled, but did not hear any unexpected noise. Quickly, she crossed expanse and opened the first door on the right. Elizabeth walked into a large sitting room. From the glow of her solitary candle holder, she made out several seating arrangements. She strolled through the area admiring the fabrics of the furniture, trailing her hand on the backs of the settees. A grand piano, beautiful and reflecting the candlelight, was situated at the far end of the room. She longed to play it, but settled for touching the smooth keys. Exploring Pemberley at night by candlelight was like being in a fairy tale.
Next, she opened the doors to the music room which showed another piano and harp. Then she gasped at what she found in the next room. The library was extensive, with hundreds, no thousands, of books on shelves that reached up to the ceiling. There was a ladder on rails to climb up to reach the highest volumes. She could stay in here forever and be completely happy. Elizabeth longed to take a book back up to her bedroom, but would wait for Mr. Darcy's permission first. She touched the spines as she walked past the shelves towards the doors.
Nothing else could be better than the library but she continued her survey of Pemberley anyway. But the next room was locked. It must be Mr. Darcy's study. She could open the doors to the next room, which contained a billiard table, chess board, backgammon set and cards. Everything to pass the time in an enjoyable manner at a house party. Did Mr. Darcy ever play a game of billiards by himself? It was such a large home for only two people.
She trailed her hands over the chessboard; the pieces were all in the beginning positions. Should she move a piece and then come back later to see if anyone else took up her challenge and moved a piece with the other color?
Elizabeth heard a sound and stilled. She slowly looked around the room, then the faint noise occurred again. It did not sound like a scurrying mouse, though she could not imagine a mouse so rude as to invade Pemberley. As she strode around the billiards table, she realized the muffled sounds were louder on one side. It seemed to come from behind the wall, but that could not be correct. She stepped next to it, her head tilted to hear better and again she heard the sounds near the table with the chess set.
She softly tapped on the wall, using the pattern off the wallpaper to evenly space her taps. Elizabeth was not sure what she was listening for, but then the tapping sound deepened like it was hollow. Trailing her hands over the surface did not help her find a seam, a doorway or entrance of some sort. By leaning against it, she pinpointed where the noise was the loudest. Only by moving her candle could she see the faintest line. It was a secret door and cleverly hidden in the wallpaper design.
She pushed against the hollow part, then the solid, but nothing moved. For a brief moment, the thought entered her mind that perhaps she should not be trying to find a hidden doorway in a house in which she was currently a guest. But the excitement and puzzle of figuring out how to open the secret door overwhelmed any thoughts of being a polite guest and return to bed.
After failing at opening the door by pushing on the wall, she stood back. Perhaps there was some lever concealed somewhere? She touched the candle holder on the wall, but nothing happened. The only other item was a bookcase. Elizabeth moved all the trinkets, but nothing on the wall moved. Finally, she pulled all the books off and her hand slipped when one book did not move. She spun when a click reverberated in the room. Part of the wall had jutted out in the shape of a doorway!
The noise was still muffled but louder when she fully opened the door. It was well oiled and did not squeak. Whatever was down here was used often. She did not take her candle with her so no one would see the light. And with the door open, there was enough light for her to see the stone steps leading down. Softly, she stepped down onto the hidden staircase. The noises were odd, sometimes a smacking, then a grunt. Was Mr. Darcy a smuggler? But that was ridiculous. Pemberley was not near a river.
She kept her hand on the stone wall as she carefully descended lower. What would she find? Her heart was racing. Elizabeth could not make herself turn back though. Even if she found out Mr. Darcy was a smuggler or a highwayman.
There was a sharp turn in the staircase. She placed her back against the cold rugged stone and slid against it as she followed the curve to the remaining few steps. The only view she had was of another stone wall several feet away. To see into the hidden room, she would need to look around the corner.
Elizabeth bit her lip as she reached the last step and prepared herself for a quick peek, but a loud cry and grunt startled her. She pushed against the walls and barely kept herself from falling off the step.
"Good show, Watsbane. You are indeed a master."
She did not recognize the male voice.
"Thank you. I hope you find this is delightful as I have."
"Such an amazing performance. I will relive this over in my dreams."
"I have to thank the lovely Miss Arabella for consenting to take part in my presentation."
She had expected to hear a woman speak next, but only a muffled sound reached her. What could have occurred down in this secret room? There had been no music, no singing. Did Mr. Darcy know people were down here? Perhaps they were servants putting on a play for themselves?
The sound of footsteps startled her out of her thoughts. Elizabeth quickly turned and ran as lightly and as fast as she could up the steps. She slipped through the door, closing it gently. Grabbing the candle holder, she saw books she had missed on the billiards table. Hurriedly she placed those back on the bookshelves. Then she blew out the candle in case the people came up the stairs and saw the light moving throughout the house, and ran to her bedroom.
