by Kari Edgren
“Thank you, Sophie. Don’t let me keep you. I can announce myself.” I made to resume when she moved into my path, forcing me to a sudden stop and our faces within an inch of the other. To my surprise, the girl held her ground, and I had to move back to maintain a polite distance.
The near collision elicited nothing more than a kind look from Sophie. “Her ladyship is not receiving visitors at this time, miss. You may speak to her this evening.”
Absolute authority resided beneath the calm tone, which I found rather insolent coming from one who was no doubt my junior. “I’ve important matters to discuss with Lady Dinley. Surely, she won’t mind the interruption.” I started again, only to be set upon my heels a second time.
“Her ladyship is not to be disturbed,” Sophie said.
Good gracious! What must a person do to get past this girl? “Can you at least tell her I need a private word?”
Sophie shook her head. “My mistress gave specific instructions not to be bothered for anything less than imminent death.” Concern marred her brow, in direct contradiction to the obvious amusement that lit her eyes. “Are you dying, miss?”
A caustic remark nearly escaped me. I stopped it at the last second, and forced a bit of honeyed sweetness in its place. “You’re a reasonable girl, Sophie. Do you think I would be standing here if I were actually dying?”
“Then come back before supper. Her ladyship will have time to see you then.”
“But she just went in there,” I said in a cajoling voice. “What is so important that she cannot be interrupted for a single minute?”
The amusement in Sophie’s eyes grew stronger. “She is seeing to the new settee, miss.”
It seemed a jest of the worst sort. I blinked. Then blinked again. “This must be an important piece of furniture. I shall try not to be offended.”
Sophie didn’t respond, though her eyes continued to speak volumes as she watched me.
So pleased I’ve amused you.
The girl was stubborn as an ox, and though weighing no more than eight stone, would be about as difficult to move as any real-life beast of burden. Short of a sudden life-threatening illness, she clearly had no intention of relenting.
The mask of patience strained over my mounting annoyance. “Very well, Sophie. I shall return when her ladyship has less important matters to see to.”
Pride alone kept me from slamming the door of my chamber. “Settee, indeed!” I said, giving full vent to my temper. “How dare that girl play the high and mighty gatekeeper with me?” I grabbed the small, square throw pillow from the armchair and hurled it across the room.By good fortune, Beth had already left and had not stood witness to my humiliation. It was one thing for a maid to set down another maid, but to do the same thing to a guest, and practically family at that, was intolerable. Even worse, this was the second time Sophie had effectively put me in my place. Judging by the amused look in her eyes, she had received some measure of enjoyment from the task.
What did I ever do to warrant such behavior? The girl treated me like a child, despite my greater years. Fresh anger welled inside me, and having nothing more to throw other than the chair itself, I settled for pounding a fist into the thick padding.
“Insufferable brat!”
With a scowl and a few more mumblings, I strode to the window. Dark clouds blotched the sky, and rain pinged mercilessly against the glass panes. Any thoughts of a stroll or shopping to ease my temper fled in sight of Mother Nature’s dour mood. I huffed a breath and turned my back to the window, arms crossed over my chest. Cate was indisposed with a new settee. Nora had gone out with Margaret Fox. Henry couldn’t be expected for at least several more hours. Amelia may no longer despise me, but that did little to improve my immediate prospects.
Yet again, my choices were limited to hiding in my chamber, or seeking the companionship of Lucy Goodwin and whatever painfully dull excursion she had planned for today.
I opted to hide in my room.
While considering how best to fill the time, my gaze skimmed over several books on the bedside table, then came to a rest on my wooden writing case next to the dressing table. Correspondence was not the worst option, and I did owe letters to my friends Katrina Oswald and Allison Dowling back home. Resigned to the task, I moved toward the desk when my eyes suddenly found the wall panel next to the hearth.
My mouth pursed over the unexpected prospect. To be sure, it would be black as the devil’s cabinet in between the walls and equally unfamiliar. And heaven forbid that I run into someone unaware.
I tilted my head a little to the side and eyed the lines of the panel. It would also be a rousing adventure, and in truth, I could think of no better way to wile away the hours than exploring the hidden maze.
Impulse took over, propelling me forward before reason had a chance to intervene. At the mantel, I thrust a fresh candle into the fire, jammed it into a small brass holder, and tugged on the hidden lever.
The panel swung open, releasing a puff of cold, musty air. The small flame flickered in protest, but soon recovered. Staring into the darkness, my heart quickened as I contemplated the first step into essentially the unknown. Back home, darkness was a welcome friend that allowed me to move unobserved between Brighmor and the altar. Here, it could hold any manner of surprises.
This last thought should have scared me, or maybe brought on a more reserved emotion other than overwhelming anticipation. But I couldn’t help it. Faced with hours of boredom, and the need to show some sort of defiance in light of Sophie’s condescension, I stepped inside the wall and nudged the panel into place.
Velvety blackness surrounded me, pressing the candlelight to a few inches in front of my nose. I blinked several times in the hope that my eyes would adjust somewhat. Nothing changed, and for a moment I pondered fetching a lantern. But that would require a trip to the kitchen, and quite possibly another run-in with Sophie. The last thing I wanted was to have her snooping around, enquiring to my purposes. So instead, I focused on the insignificant light and started to walk forward, albeit slowly, toward the set of stairs I knew bridged the alcove.
The space was narrow by any estimation, unless leprechauns or other diminutive folk wandered Lady Dinley’s home undetected. My skirts brushed against the plaster and timbers, but being slender of shoulder, I could at least move without hunching forward like Henry must have been forced to do. From the heavy footfalls that had awakened me the other night, I possessed a decent understanding at what could be heard through the walls, and thanked my lucky stars for the soft-soled slippers I now wore in place of the usual heels.
Moving at a guarded pace, and with little means to judge the distance, the wall seemed to stretch far beyond its natural length. It can’t be much farther—
My toe struck the first wooden tread a split second before I glimpsed the hulking shadow of the staircase. I sucked in a ragged breath, then bit down hard to keep from cursing. Once the pain abated to a dull ache, I turned from left to right to better assess my position. From where I stood, the stairs seemed to lead away from the center of the house, most likely to the tunnels Henry spoke of, and the abandoned well that served as an unmarked entrance. Based on this logic, the passage running to my right must have led deeper into the house to the other chambers.
I would have flipped a coin if I had one. Instead, I resorted to the time-tested methodology of the nursery rhyme. Keeping my voice to a low whisper, I rushed over the words, as my free hand pointed in time between the stairs and the passageway.
Ibble obble black bobble
Ibble obble out
Turn a dirty dishcloth inside out
Once if it’s dirty
Twice if it’s clean
Ibble obble black bobble
You
Are
Out
The rhyme ended with my finger pointin
g at the passageway. “So be it,” I said, and stepped up on the first tread.
Seconds later, I arrived at the landing where another decision waited; down the other side of the stairs or straight-ahead, across what I assumed to be the wide hallway dividing the chambers below. Rather than reciting more verse, I decided to go straight for no other reason than to avoid the tunnels and the risk of ruining my slippers if the ground happened to be muddy.
On the other side of the hallway, the passage turned sharply to the right, leading back toward the interior of the house. I followed along, until this too ended in a staircase. Descending to the bottom, I froze at the sound of voices—female for certain, though the muffled words eluded comprehension. From the distance traveled, the room belonged to either Nora or Lucy, and the voices were those of two housemaids.
I walked on tiptoes, hardly daring to breathe lest that insignificant noise give me away. Their voices faded after a minute, along with the anxiety of being caught like a mouse in a trap. A rush of pure excitement passed through me from the newfound ability to move around undetected. Encouraged by this first success, I pressed forward, more reckless than wise, until, in truth, I began to feel uneasy about how far I had traveled.
The most recent of several staircases stood some ten paces behind me. Grudgingly, I turned and began to retrace my steps, while making a mental accounting of the various twists and turns that had led to this point.
Over the stairs to the end of the passage, then a right turn and one to the left. I paused to reflect, and gave my head a quick shake. No, left first, then right to the next set of stairs. Follow the passage to—
My toe cracked against something hard. “Ahh!” I cried, as I stumbled forward headfirst. Instinct prevailed, and my hands shot out to break the fall. Stair risers came into view, then disappeared a second later when the candle fell to the ground, and I was plunged into total darkness.
I managed to stop before my face made contact with anything hard, though my shins were not so lucky. Wincing from the pain, I turned around, and planted my behind on one of the steps.
“Blast it all to hell!” I cursed, momentarily forgetting the need for silence.
Footsteps sounded nearby. I clamped my mouth shut, heart hammering as I waited for them to pass. No such luck. They drew closer and stopped right next to me.
Go away, I silently pleaded. Just keep walking—
A few sharp knocks rapped near my head. I jumped, bumping my elbow into the plaster.
“Did ye hear that, Joe?” a man asked, his excitement obvious, even through the wall. “That weren’t no mouse in there.”
“I ain’t heard nothing,” a gruff voice responded.
Knocks sounded again, though a little higher. This time not a muscle moved other than the rapid rise and fall of my chest.
“I swear I heard something,” the first man said. “Think we aught to tell her ladyship?”
I flinched from what sounded like a resounding slap to the head. “And let her know we ain’t fixed the baluster yet? Get away from that wall afore I crack yer nob.”
“But, there could be—”
“I said get away.” Another slap followed, much harder than the first.
“Criminy! I’m coming. Ain’t no need to spill m’wits.”
Their slow, lumbering footsteps joined with the pounding of my blood to create a resounding din in the blackness. It seemed an eternity passed before silence settled over me once more, though it lasted but a moment before a long, shuddering breath shook my entire torso. Only then did I realize the full extent of my folly.
Dear Lord, I’m lost in the walls.
A small groan escaped as I slouched forward in dismay. The situation was bleak at best. I could pound on the walls like a mad woman for help, or try to find the way back by myself in absence of a light and, to be entirely honest, a clear memory of the previous route. Having a strong aversion to public humiliation, I pushed to my feet, and ever so carefully, started up the stairs. On the other side, the passage continued a dozen paces before coming to a rather abrupt end.
“Damnation!” I cursed softly, while rubbing the sore spot on my forehead that had first discovered the adjacent wall.
Pushing the pain away, I forced myself to focus on the task at hand.
Left turn to the next set of stairs...That had to be it. Or was it a right?
This went on for what felt like the better part of an hour, stumbling over stairs and along passageways, until left, right, up and down all blended together, and I was unequivocally lost.
My eyes glistened with tears from running head first into yet another wall. My dress was ripped in at least two places, and the skin on one hand stung like the dickens from where I had scraped it against the rough plaster. Turning another corner, I caught my shoulder on a wooden beam, bringing on an even greater onslaught of tears.
That’s it! I thought angrily. I shall never get out of here!
It was a well-known fact that curiosity had killed the cat. Now, it seemed, I would suffer a similar fate. A hundred years in the future, some poor workmen would cut into the plaster only to discover a skeleton with dark curly hair dressed in an ivory and blue silk gown.
The image brought a half sob, half laugh as I continued to walk, one trudging step in front of another. When the sliver of light first appeared in the distance, I thought it a delusion, induced by one too many collisions into walls. Blinking several times, I expected it to blend back into the darkness. To my amazement, not only did the light remain, it grew more pronounced the farther I went. My feet came to a sudden stop, and I stood mesmerized by the sudden salvation.
“Oh, saints above, I’m saved!”
Not daring to run for fear of braining myself, I gathered my skirts and settled for a slow, careful trot. The distance fell away, and I soon found myself staring at the thin line of light from where a section of wall had not been properly secured once the last person had passed through. Huffing a relieved breath, I nudged the panel open, my thoughts solely fixed on escaping the last hour of hell rather than whose room I was about to invade.
Daylight hit my eyes, blinding me nearly as much as the darkness had. With my hand raised as a temporary shield, I took a tentative step forward when a man’s deep voice stopped me dead.
“Aye, Caitria,” the man said from somewhere across the room. “’Tis a lovely settee.”
A lady laughed, and I was reminded of a hundred silver bells. “And how would you know, Tiarnach?” she asked playfully. “For I swear you’ve not laid eyes upon it since you arrived.”
“I’ve saved my eyes for you, lass, and laid myself upon the settee instead. What better way to judge its merits?”
“And judged it you have,” she said, her voice taking on a sultry tone. “Very thoroughly, I might add.”
The first startled moment had stolen my wits, leaving me incapable of the simplest comprehension. Then the shadows cleared from my vision, and I saw a man and woman, both in a state of undress, entwined on an amber velvet settee—the same settee I had seen while running errands with Cate a week ago.
Realization hit harder than any of the previous walls, flooding my face with a rush of hot blood.
I shrank away in shame, willing myself to disappear. Nothing less than unmitigated humiliation could have forced me back between the walls. But that was exactly what I had in store if I stayed put, or even worse, tried to tiptoe for the chamber door. With the threat of discovery hanging like a guillotine over my head, I lifted a foot, and ever so slowly moved it behind me. Halfway to safety, I shifted the other foot with the same degree of caution. Inches away from a clean escape, my shoe came down on the hem of my gown. The sudden torque threw me off balance, and I stumbled like a clumsy buffoon into the encasement.
The man’s head whipped around. “Who’s there?” he asked, staring straight at me
.
I jerked upright, then froze under Tom Faber’s intense gaze.
Cate pushed up to her elbows and looked at me. “Selah, is that you?”
Confusion reigned havoc in my brain. Get in the wall. Shut the panel...no...Don’t move. Stay where you are...
Flustered, I twisted from left to right as my hands fluttered like wings at my side. A flurry of movement came from the settee, and a moment later Cate stood in front of me. My humiliation complete, I dropped my eyes to the floor, unable to meet her gaze.
A warm hand rested on my arm. “Selah,” she said gently, “why were you in the walls?”
My mouth opened and closed several times to no avail. Finding myself incapable of speech, I resorted to a one-shoulder shrug to best explain my recent activities.
“Did you go exploring and get lost?” she asked.
This time I nodded, my eyes still fixed on the floor.
“Since you are without a candle, I assume you lost that as well.”
I nodded again.
“Oh, Selah, You must have been terrified. It took me six months to learn my way from one end to the other.” Her hand moved to my chin, and she gently nudged my chin up. “Good gracious, child!” she exclaimed when our eyes met. “Whatever happened to you face?”
Prickles stung my nose. Pressing my lips together hard, I blinked rapidly to keep from crying. These efforts had a minimal effect against the overwhelming combination of pain and shame, and my eyes were soon swimming.
“I couldn’t see anything once the candle went out.” I sniffled and brushed a tear from my cheek. “It was hard to tell where one passage ended and another began.”
Cate placed an arm around my shoulder and guided me farther into the room. “Come here, dear,” she said with more patience than I deserved. “I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
One look at Mr. Faber seated cross-armed on the settee, and I dug in my heels to keep from going any farther. “I...I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I stammered. “Please, just let me return to my chamber. I promise not to—”
