“Is there any liquor in the music room?” Elizabeth asked, lowering her voice even more.
“No, ma’am. It was always Miss Darcy’s room, and she does not… did not…”
“I understand.” Lizzie gave the other woman a sympathetic look. Then her determined glow returned, and she straightened up with a tight-lipped smile. “Well then, Mrs. Reynolds, while Mr. Darcy is locked up he has given us a fine opportunity. I want you to go through this house at once and gather up every bottle and carafe that you find. Do you have the key to the wine cellar?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Is it the only one?”
“Mr. James, the butler, has the other.”
“Good. You will bring them both to me when you are sure the house is empty. It all needs to be locked away, Mrs. Reynolds. Even the wine Mrs. Pompey uses for cooking, and the nips theservants buy for themselves - it must all go into the cellar. I will reimburse the servants, of course, but theymustgive it up.”
“I will make sure that they do.” The housekeeper nodded with the same fierce determination as her mistress. “If any of them lie to me or try to hide it, then I shall send them away without references.”
Elizabeth was shocked, “Isn’t that a little harsh?”
The lady looked archly back at her, “I have no time for liars, Mrs. Darcy, and I cannot abide a drunk in this house. If they cannot work without a drink, then they shall not work here at all.”
“Can you really say that, Mrs. Reynolds, since your master is in this house? It would be the height of hypocrisy.”
Mrs. Reynolds’s demeanour became icy: “Let me organise my staff as I see fit, madam. You will have a dry house within the hour.”
“Thank you.” Elizabeth said, “Now, I need someone to show me around. I am afraid of getting fearfully lost.”
“Perhaps you might ask the master.” Mrs. Reynolds suggested, looking thoughtful, “It might be just the thing to get him out of that awful room.”
“Awful? The music room?”
“Oh, no. That is just what we call it. It used to be Miss Darcy’s favourite room, so we moved her in there after she… after her accident, ma’am.”
Lizzie looked back at the house, biting her lip. The ground-floor room which the housekeeper had gestured towards looked daunting, with its green curtains still tightly drawn.
It suddenly occurred to her that Mrs. Reynolds had only spoken about Mr. Darcy in all of their conversations. It was he who wasshut away, and he who was being quiet. Miss Darcy was not mentioned at all. It was as if she didn’t exist. She was simply moved into her favourite room. An awful room.
“Perhaps I shall take a walk around without him.” Lizzie said softly and then gave Mrs. Reynolds a crooked smile. “Please send a servant to guide me.”
Pemberley was immaculate. Every time Elizabeth thought they had reached the end of it, there appeared another gallery, or an intimate dining room. There was a room smaller than the library, but cosier, stocked with novels and books of verse instead of dry tomes. There were wide seats beside the windows, a large and comfortable set of chairs beside the fireplace, and a cunning nook in one corner where one could hide away entirely.
Elizabeth had thought that she could not be more amazed by her new home, but that room made her jaw drop. She knew at once that she would spend a great deal of time in there, curled up in the corner with a pile of books at her side.
“Is this room used by Miss Darcy?” she asked, “I would not want to intrude.”
“Of course not, madam.” the maid who was showing her around rolled her eyes. Seeing Mrs. Darcy’s sharp look, she blushed and then pointed at a portrait above the fireplace, “The old mistress set it up. She was in here all the time. There is even a staircase in between it and her rooms.”
“Her rooms? Do you mean my rooms?” Elizabeth’s skin tingled. The thought of a secret door in her private rooms felt shockingly intimate. She was pleased when the servant shook her head.
“No, ma’am. Lady Anne used the rooms next to the master suite. You are further away. He did not put you in therealmistress’srooms.” the maid’s eyes gleamed, for this piece of gossip was already making the servant’s hall buzz like a beehive.
Elizabeth did not react quickly enough to the sly leer in the maid’s voice. When she did, it was only to frown. Her rooms were perfectly lovely, and they faced a very fair prospect. It made no difference to her that they were far away from her husband’s. The servant was speaking as if she should take her bedroom as some kind of insult.
She sighed and gestured for the tour to continue. First, she wanted to memorise the house, with all its secrets. Only then would she think about the people within it.
Chapter 17
Elizabeth spent days trying to work out how to coax her husband from the music room. She was still angry at him for telling her so little about the house and for making such a bad impression on the servants (even though it had been she who had encouraged him to do it). However, she missed the man who she had spent the last month with. She was so used to eating breakfast with him, spending the day sharing amusements and having someone to talk to that his absence truly ached.
At night she found herself running her fingers distractedly over her hand. He used to kiss her hand before they parted at night, at least on the days when he was in good spirits. She missed that, too.
