Elle breathed a sigh of relief when when she couldn't hear them anylonger.
She pushed out of her hiding place and slung her bag back over her shoulders. She quickly found the narrow stairway leading to the attic from the pantry. There was no dust on the stairs. She didn't worry about leaving evidence of her passage. Her night sight was active but in the small space there was no light. She let the wall guide her up. She didn't dare light. The flint to the old torches along the wall.
She quickly yanked her hand from the wall and froze with a foot on the separate steps. She wipped the reminans of a spider web and cleak.
She found the attic door just four steps up from the unexpected web.
The door didn't Open silently but it want extremely loud.
The scent of the dust mold stale cloth and a lingering perfume. Slammed her in the distaste.
She pulled a swing torch from her bag and lit it.it didn't eliminate a large area but it was enough that it only took her a few minutes to search the space.
She didn't like having the open flame in the low ceiling space that was too crowded with flanables.
She didn't find the painting hidin in the attic.
She stood, torch held akoft, staring at the space that she had just searched.
It doesn't make make sense. He has the painting somewhere. He showed it to his searches.
She didn't think he would have it in the servents courteas. She believed he would betoposisive to allow it in a space that was over run with commoners and servents.
The gust wing searched the servents wing unlikely that only left hip personal wing.
The salon in his wing. His rooms. His attic. His dinning hall.
The woman earlen had said he was out of town.
She could search it. There wouldn't be any servents about with him out of town. There should be enough of the night left to search as well.
She wouldn't be able to return. He was returning. She wouldn't get the opertunity agin.
Decided, she exting wished the torch and stood in the all enompusing dark.
She didn't dare to move until her light sight returned. Even then it was hard to make out absicals in her way.
She made her way back do wen to the kitchen. The windows alowed a small measure of moonlight in, making it margenaly easer to see.
She crept through the darked corraders to his personal wing.
She had only been in wing twice before.
It took her sometime to search the massive space.
It wasn't until she was making her way up to the stairs that her Hart speed up agin.
The though of entering his bed room terifrid her. She didn't care.
Her heart hamered aginst her ribs. The fear caused her halt at any sound a mouse that squeeked anglery up in a wall, a board that groaned under distance the source of the sound didn't matter. I all sent spices of terror through her blood. She would freeze and fight her body instint to flee.
She opened 3 doors on the second floor before finding his bed chamber.
She know it was his because she recognized his scent.
The male scent that belonged just that came from a bottle.
Even the scent froze her at the doors threshod. It was so strong that she feared the woman downstairs was wrong. She feared he had returned.
She swallowed the siliva that had bloomed in her mouth and forced her feet forward.
She almost gasped outloud. The painting was there. It hung above the fireplaces smoke-blackened mantle.
She could almost recognize the dress she wore. It was too dark to make out any true detail but she recognized the blue of the dress.
She found her feet rushing over the floor. She stood under the gaze of her darker self. She knew it was the darkness of the room but it was still unnerving.
She moved a small chair below the dead fireplace and climbed up on it.
She quickly had the painting down, the chair returned to its place.
The painting was 2.5 feet wide and 3 feet long.
She had to remove the hook and rope to put painting in the bag. As soon as she secured it to her back she practically ran from the room.
She ran down the halls, her feet sure and making almost no noise.
She flew down the rope, untied the end, and pulled it down.
She carried the rope in one hand and picked up the hook from the ground where she had thrown it from the balcony.
Then she ran. The painting bouncing against her back.
She ran as fast as her legs would allow. She tried to stay in the tree line so she could run. When she had to navigate the road she slowed her pace.
Her first sight of the back of the tavern was a welcome sight. Her heart finally started to calm down. Even with the cool dawn air sweat beaded on her forehead and down her back.
* * *
Elle placed the bag on the bed and removed the cloak.
Elle lit the lamp in her room and pulled the painting from the bag.
She propped up the painting on the dresser. After taking a step back she studied it in the light.
The dress was the right color. But the woman in the painting didn't have the same eyes as Elle had when the painting was commissioned.
The woman had a knowing, wanting look that made promises to inflame a mans desire. Her hair was darker, even longer then it had been years ago. Her skin looked like peach perfect porcelain. The nose was her nose, my nose. The cheeks were hers as well. The ear that was visible was hers only slightly pointed at the top.
It was like Leo used every fantasy in his mind to complete the painting of this Elizabeth. How had Sir Travis not seen the differences in reality and this painting. Why would he show it to his searchers and expect results.
If you squinted, unfocused your eyes and stepped back you could believe that you were looking at Elizabeth.
Elle sat on the bed. She knew she still had a problem or two.
The first was admitting to the others that she had 'visited' the mannor. She also had to show them the painting.
She sighed heavily. It was best to get it over with. She stood up and made her way to Harv's room.
He swung open the door. Elle figured she must have looked worse then she felt because after looking at her his eyes became concerned.
"What's wrong, lass?"
Elle shook her head.
"I need to talk to all of you. Could you get the others and meet me in my room?" She asked trying to sound confident and strong.
"Give me a moment to dress." He said and rubbed at his beard. She turned to walk away. "Elle," he called.
She turned back to him.
"You weren't sick, were you?" He asked almost accussingly.
Her confidence fled. Her shoulder dropped. She stared at the floor at her feet.
"If I were you, I wouldn't admit that to the captain." He said. Elle heard his door click closed. She fled to her room.
She slid the painting behind the dresser, put the little box form the bed in the second dresser drawer, shoved the bag under the bed and hid the hook and rope in the third dresser drawer.
She knew that they would be upset at her. But she also knew that they would also see that she had little choice.
The painting was wrong. So why did Sir Travis still show it to his searchers? They had more questions now then they had before.
She pulled the only chair in the room closer to the bed. She should have thought about the lack of seating.
She was ready for the knock so she opened the door and stepped back to let them enter.
The captain entered first. He was followed by Zara and Miles. Harv entered last. Elle closed the door and made her way to stand by the dresser.
"I know it's early." She said. Her thoughts mostly on Zara's late nights. "I'm sorry for that. But I have a confession and wanted to get it out. The past few days I've been working on the problem of the cursed painting." She paused not daring to look anyone in the eye, not even Harv.
She sighed and continued before anyone could question her.
"We need to know how much that painting looked like me. There really isn't a way except to see it.
"Sir Travis is out of town." She said, she didn't add that she had only found that out after putting a plan in action. "I went to the mannor."