Grateful for her candle, she climbed the stairs, passed her own room, and peered around the corner but saw no one in the alcove. She crept to the corridor’s end, feeling self-conscious and guilty, as if the ancestors staring so somberly down at her knew what she was doing. She worried a servant would see her sneaking around and suspect her of a late-night liaison. Or worse, one of the family. She looked over her shoulder to assure herself she was alone, then approached the hidden door. Dare she?
Gingerly, she positioned her fingers behind the filigree and pulled open the panel as she had seen Miss Blake do. The priest hole was dark, except for the dim moonlight from that high small window. She slipped inside and closed the door behind herself, heart pounding. For a moment she stood there, listening. Her candle cast flickering light and shadows around the small room—the single bed, tiny table, and cross on the wall. She waited but heard nothing save a faint whistle of wind.
She told herself to relax. She was doing nothing wrong. No one had forbidden her to explore the hidden passages. If a neighbor was welcome to do so, would a daughter-in-law be any less so? She hoped not.
With this justification, she stepped to the pivoted timber beam and pulled it up, feeling a little stitch in her back as she did so. She would have to be more careful. A soft whisper of air guttered the candle. She waited to make sure the flame would remain lit before squeezing into the passage and allowing the timber to close behind her. She walked forward, as Miss Blake had done, then turned left at the T. She found the first squint and looked out, but saw nothing unusual. She walked on.
She came to another intersection of passages she didn’t recall encountering the first time. Then again, she had been focused on following Miss Blake and not on any side passages not chosen. Or had she taken a wrong turn already?
She found herself at the top of a narrow flight of stairs. She heard a sound, something sliding open or closed, wood upon wood. A rush of air blew out her candle. Sophie’s heart lurched. She stared at the red ember of wick until it faded to black.
Scuff.Another sound in the distance. Sophie held her breath.Scuff-scuff.Footsteps. Someone was in the passage with her. The slow footsteps were coming in her direction....
Suddenly a hand clamped over her mouth and a body pressed against her back. She opened her mouth to try to scream, but then she recognized the voice whispering in her ear. “Shh... Sophie, it’s me.”
Kate. In the stairwell behind her.
What was she doing there? And who was coming down the passage?
Sophie stilled, and Kate removed her hand. The footsteps came closer. From where they stood, tucked into a little recess at the top of the stairs, she saw no bobbing light. Was it someone who knew the way so well, he or she needed no light? Or had his candle blown out as well?
Would the person be able to pass without tripping over Sophie’s protruding slippers and abdomen? She tilted her feet to one side and willed herself slim.
The shuffling footsteps passed by. Sophie could see nothing. The darkness was that complete. She sensed a moving figure. A shuffling gait. The faint smell of woodsmoke.
She and Kate waited where they were for a minute or two until the footsteps faded away. Sophie thought she heard the quiet click of the timber falling back into place, but couldn’t be certain.
“Who was that?” Sophie whispered.
“I don’t know,” Kate replied. “I couldn’t see anything. My candle blew out.”
“Mine too,” Sophie said. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for Gulliver. Winnie is worried about him, and I thought I heard him mewing through the wall. What about you?”
“Your friend Miss Blake showed me the priest hole and this passage.”
“She’s the one who showed me as well. I wondered if she’d been in here when I spied that cobweb in her hair. I asked Winnie, but she said Angela has not been up to her room in months.”
“And Angela told me you were too scared to venture any farther than the priest hole.”
“I’m not the frightened young girl she thinks me.” Kate stepped beside her, her shoulder pressing into Sophie’s. “Let’s follow and see who it is.”
Sophie wasn’t sure she was brave enough to pursue the shadowy figure, but she’d rather stay with Kate than stand there in the dark alone. “Right behind you.”
She stayed so close to Kate that she stepped on the back of her heel. “Sorry,” she murmured.
Then Sophie asked, “Where did you come from? Where do those stairs lead?”
“The kitchen. Shh...”
As they passed behind the family bedchambers, the sound of muffled voices reached them. They paused to listen.
“Steal me blind, will you? I shall have my revenge.”
A second voice replied, too quiet to make out.
The first voice added, “I warned you the last time not to take any more from me.”
