The steps quickened, right up the side of the wall. My eyes flew to the ceiling, tracing a line as they crossed overhead before descending on the other side of the alcove. It took but a second for my mind to catch up to what had just occurred. Hardly daring to breathe, I closed the door before turning to fix my gaze on the wooden paneling next to the fireplace that hid the secret passageway.
Apprehension pounded in my chest, but the footsteps moved beyond my room before fading altogether. On shaking legs, I walked over to the mantel and ran my hand along the edge of the stone just like I had seen Henry do the other night. It took several passes over the narrow crevices to find the hidden lever. Yanking it up, the panel disappeared from view. With one hand braced against the frame, I leaned into the passageway.
The candle flickered, showing walls of rough plaster and exposed wooden beams. The space was narrower than I anticipated. At no more than two feet wide, someone of Henry’s size would be forced to hunch forward to fit through. The small light failed to illuminate the staircase at the far end, which I now knew arched over the door alcove and allowed unhindered passage to other parts of the house.
A small leather handle had been fitted on the inside of the wall. With a little tug, I ducked back into the room as the panel slid into place. Oddly, my fear had faded during the impromptu inspection, replaced by a burst of curiosity for the identity of the mysterious walker. No doubt, this person was either a resident of the house or a confident of Lady Dinley’s to be able to navigate the dark maze that ran between the walls.
Perhaps another day I would explore the passageway myself, during the daytime when I was properly dressed and not at risk of popping out at the dead of night into someone’s chamber. I smiled from the thought, then, on a whim, carried over the chair from the dressing table and leaned it against the hidden doorway. To be sure, even the most diligent of souls could get lost in the dark, and I preferred some warning if anyone happened to stop by unaware.
To my relief, what remained of the night passed without further incident. At a quarter to nine the next morning, I came down the stairs in a simple wool gown, prepared to serve alongside Nora and Margaret Fox. Finding the foyer empty, I passed into the drawing room, where Lucy sat in an armchair near the fire, embroidering what looked to be a pillow cover.
“Good morning,” I said, my chipper tone matching my mood.
Lucy’s head came up with a start. “You’re out of bed early. Do you have something scheduled?”
“Yes—” I began, only to be cut off before another syllable could find air.
“Remember,” Lucy said, “we have the lecture on binomial nomenclature at two sharp. The crowd at yesterday’s lecture was quite surprising, and I think we should leave for the Botany Society no later than half past noon to secure good seats.”
I bit my check to keep from smiling. “I’m sorry, Lucy, but I must beg out of the lecture as I’ve been invited to join Nora and Margaret on their rounds today.”
This earned me a queer look. “Do you intend to meet up with them in town?”
“No, we planned to go together this morning in Margaret’s carriage.”
Lucy clipped the embroidery thread with the small scissors hanging by a ribbon around her neck. “Well, I’m afraid you’ve already missed them. Margaret’s carriage arrived at seven this morning.”
My mouth fell open in surprise. “They’ve already left?”
“Near on two hours ago.”
“Why didn’t Nora tell me the time had changed? I wouldn’t have minded rising earlier.” Not that much, anyway. And it wasn’t like Nora to be overly concerned about my sleeping habits.
Lucy dug around in a basket for more thread. “There was no change in plans, my dear. Nora told me last night that they planned to set out again at first light this morning. Maybe you misheard her.”
A miserable feeling swept through me. With no uncertainty, I knew Nora had specified nine this morning. Had she purposefully lied with the intention of leaving me behind? My eyes burned from unshed tears. “Yes, I must have been mistaken,” I mumbled, gazing down at my hands.
“You know if we leave by noon for the Botany Society, it might be possible to gain an introduction to the speaker. Maybe even have an opportunity to pose a question or two before the crowds descend.” She jabbed the freshly threaded needle into the pillow cover. “What do you think? Considering how much you work with plants back home, I wager you’re just as eager as I am to discuss the merits of adopting a more consistent naming system.” She jabbed another stitch through the cloth. “If you ask me, it is fortunate, indeed, that Nora and Margaret have already gone, and you need not feel guilty about indulging a passion instead of serving those in need.”