Eternal Flame ~ A Pemberley Fairy Tale

Chapter Three

Liz woke the following morning with sunlight on her face as it streamed through a crack in the curtain. For a moment she felt a strange disorientation because the window in her flat faced west. Then she remembered her journey north to Derbyshire, and her inauspicious arrival at Pemberley.

She’d eaten dinner in her room the previous night, the whole experience feeling slightly surreal. Her large bedroom reminded her of the kind of room you’d expect to find in a five star hotel, except without a television or a mini bar. Someone had even delivered her three course dinner on a silver tray, like room service, complete with domed covers to keep the food warm.

Now wide awake, Liz stared at the canopy above her head, studying the pleated chintz gathered into a centre coronet. She‘d never slept in a four poster bed before, particularly one that looked more like a museum exhibit than a place where real people might relax. The carved posts were massive. Even wrapping both hands around one, her fingers hadn’t touched.

She stretched her arms across the cool linen, revelling in the space. The last time she remembered lying in a double bed was when her father was alive, shivering in his arms when she’d woken in the night after a bad dream. She had vague recollections of feeling safe and loved with her father, but that special time when there’d been just the two of them had been a long while ago. Once he’d remarried the whole atmosphere had changed and Liz had learned to keep her nightmares to herself.

Slipping from beneath the covers, Liz felt a chill around her ankles. The three large radiators on the walls didn’t throw out enough heat to fill the high space, so she wrapped her dressing gown about her and pushed her feet into her slippers. The clock on the mantle struck eight and she grabbed her wash-bag from the dressing table.

Liz had no idea when or where they’d serve breakfast but she wanted to be ready. Despite the previous night’s lavish dinner, her stomach rumbled. She didn’t usually eat first thing in the morning and blamed the country air for her improved appetite.

She opened the door and peered into the empty hallway, tiptoeing along the chilly corridor to the next room. She’d already used the bathroom the previous evening, but this morning it felt like a walk-in freezer. They could hang a whole cow in there and it would still be fresh a week later.

Finding the cord of the old fashioned wall heater she stood under it for a moment, enjoying the burst of warm air blowing on her face while the hot water tap ran.

Liz had often enjoyed daydreams about living in a grand house like Pemberley, particularly when her own studio flat was so pitifully small. She hadn’t bargained on the disadvantages such a large property might bring, though, such as having to wait for the hot water to travel through the maze of pipes. She eventually filled the basin, sinking her hands to the bottom and allowing the heat to seep through her skin, dispelling the chill from her bones.

After a few minutes of blissful contemplation Liz washed her face and cleaned her teeth before heading back to her room. She was half way down the corridor when she heard measured footsteps coming closer.

A gentleman in a dark suit loomed above her in the dimly lit hallway. Specks of grey dusted the dark hair at his temples and he held himself with the bearing of a military man. His unlined face made his age difficult to calculate, but he surely could be no less than sixty five. He carried a folded copy of the Times under one arm.

He stopped a short distance from her door and bowed his head. “Miss Pargeter?”

Liz blushed, embarrassed to be caught in her dressing gown. “Yes … yes, I am. It’s nice to meet you…er…Mr. Bingley.”

His thin lips twisted into a short lived smile. “My name is Reynolds. I am Mr. Bingley’s butler.”

She longed to warm her fingers from the heat that surely must be in her cheeks by now. “Oh! I’m sorry. I haven’t met Mr. Bingley yet, so I thought…”