Eternal Flame ~ A Pemberley Fairy Tale

Chapter Twenty-two

As Liz watched the stony-faced secretary, another flicker of movement on the screen beyond caught her eye—William, climbing the stairs to the second floor. She only needed to hold on a little longer. “If you seriously think I’m going to let you kill me without putting up some kind of fight you’re deranged. When William finds out he will call the police. They’ll lock you up.”

“He would never do that. William loves me. Besides, I know too much. What would those Government scientists do if I told them about his extraordinarily long life? They’d be conducting tests and sticking so many needles into him he would be like a human pincushion. Can you imagine how valuable it would be if they could extract the curse in physical form and transfer it to others? An army of soldiers like William would offer an edge to any government. He will never turn me in to the authorities because he does not wish to draw attention to himself.”

As Mrs Ellis took another step forward every fibre in Liz’s body urged her to call out to William, to shout as loud as she could, but she knew that wouldn’t be enough. She had no proof of her threats. He needed to witness her behaviour for himself otherwise he’d never believe it. She retreated, wincing as she caught her shoulder on the sharp edge of the shelf unit. Liz reached behind her, grabbed a handful of the plastic CD cases and threw them across the room. Two hit their target but the others clattered onto the wooden floor with a satisfying crash. She took another batch, hurling them through the air. Mrs Ellis ducked, her reactions those of a younger woman. Liz hoped the noise as they fell would alert William and cover the sound of his approach.

Stung by the sharp corners, Mrs Ellis screamed as she lunged forward. No longer attempting to hit the secretary, Liz began throwing anything and everything she could reach, her movements frantic as she swept the contents of the shelves onto the floor between them so the older woman couldn’t get close. As she focussed on her task, and with the tip of the silver blade slicing through the space between them, William burst through the door.

He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Mrs Ellis’s waist and yanking her off her feet. The secretary thrashed in his grip, shrieking like a banshee and crying in her frustration as William dragged her away from her target.

“Fetch John. He’s downstairs.”

Liz wasn’t sure she could move at all. As the initial adrenalin from her brush with death began to fade, her legs started to shake and tears welled in her eyes.

William struggled with the older woman, who still tried to reach Liz despite her advanced years. “Go now. Get John.”

He shouted the last with such authority that Liz was half way to the door before she realised. Her steps echoed on the wooden stairs and she sprinted down the corridor to the landing. She leaned over the banister looking for signs of life, her heart beating so fast she struggled to draw breath to shout. “Help. Somebody help!”  

Mr. Reynolds appeared in the middle of the hallway as he looked up to see where the cry was coming from. “Miss Pargeter?”

For a moment she was at a loss what to say. Her mouth opened but she couldn’t force the words through her lips. How could she explain what had happened when she hardly believed it herself? “William…he needs you.”

That simple plea was enough. Mr. Reynolds had always impressed her, gliding around the house much like the silent, stately swans on the lake. Now, he took the stairs two at a time and rushed past her, not stopping to ask questions. She’d given him as much information as he needed.

She paced at the bottom of the narrow staircase, not sure whether it was a good idea to return to the study. Had William managed to subdue the woman or was she still fighting against his restraint? Liz dropped onto the bottom stair, tears chasing down her cheeks as the enormity of what had happened hit her like a sledgehammer. Twice now she’d been afraid for her life in the attic above. The first time she had been with William, when her imagination had conjured up a threat that hadn’t existed. Today her brain had not wanted to see the knife in Mrs Ellis’s hand. The idea that someone so calm, unruffled and competent would wish her dead had seemed inconceivable. Even now, she still couldn’t process how the secretary could hate her so much.