Elizabeth ran the few steps from her hiding place to the back of the house and slipped her boot between the jamb and the kitchen door as it was closing behind the scullery maid. She held her breath and watched the girl through the crack as she continued obliviously on into the kitchen. Elizabeth let out her breath as she shook her head at yet another silly girl with her head in the clouds. What was with these great houses and having such unaware young women leaving such openings to anyone who wanted in? Elizabeth's father would never leave Longbourn so unsecured.

She waited until the maid was out of sight and then listened for a few moments more to ensure that the entryway was empty. When she felt it was safe, she slipped through the doorway and in the opposite direction as the girl. She was not looking for the kitchens, but rather the service access to the rest of the house.

When she turned to her right, there were a series of narrow, dimly lit, hallways running into the house. Perfect. Elizabeth followed the one that ran toward the front door. The housekeeper had pointed out the library earlier in the day, but much to Elizabeth's disappointment, she had not shown it to them. Perhaps if she finished her job without any problems she would risk a peek. She could hardly imagine leaving without seeing a library she had heard so much about.

She reached the end of the passage and climbed the stairwell on silent feet. She listened at the door one floor up, guessing it to most likely be the study, for any sound beyond. When she heard nothing for several minutes she reached for the knob, pausing when she felt a chill run through her. She shuddered and scolded herself in a whisper, "Breathe, Lizzy Bennet, breathe."

The master of the house was not at home, and there was no reason for anyone to be cleaning that late at night. The likelihood of anyone else being in the study was all but nil. The fact that this particular master might recognise her if caught, and might be particularly upset if he did so did not matter. She took another deep breath to steady herself, unused to the feeling fear that was coursing through her. In all of the other places she had been on this tour she had only felt her normal thrill, but this was different. Those other rich houses had been unknown names and faces, just another on the list. She wondered if she more feared getting caught, or finding something she did not want to see.

She reached for the knob again, and this time kept her emotions in check as she turned it silently and cracked the door just enough to check for a light. When none showed, she eased it slowly open, watchful of unused hinges squeaking. She peaked her head around the door and took in the nearly pitch black room. Edging her way in, she pulled her travel lantern out of her pack and eased the light up.

Elizabeth walked toward the windows first, unlatching the one closest to the desk and nudging it slightly open. The main entrance to the room was closer to the desk than she liked, but she hoped no one would come in anyway. At least the window was equally as near, unlike the servant's passageway across the room.

Elizabeth turned back to the desk and went around to open the drawers, one at a time, and sort through endless documents, looking for anything suspicious. She began to realise that the rumours of this man's wealth and consequence were nothing to reality. His reach and power were impressive indeed. What surprised her even more was that it all appeared to be gathered through irreproachable means. What she read of his contracts were honest and fair. He conducted his business all above-board. She began to feel relief as she reached the end of the drawers. She only hoped that what he kept locked away was just as clean.

When she finished, she turned and took the painting off the wall. Thankfully it was simple, and the safe was predictably behind it. Another problem with these rich houses; they all thought they were so clever, but they hid everything in the same place. She pulled a couple of slim tools out of her pack and went to work on the lock. After a few minutes of frustration, she had to cede that at least this house had a decent lock. A few more minutes, however, and she finally heard the click she was waiting for.

Elizabeth began emptying the safe, carefully placing items on the desk in the order she pulled them out. After she had cleared the entire thing, she slowly checked each box, case, and portfolio before returning it to where she had found it.

She rifled through contracts and jewelry, found a beautiful pair of antique dueling pistols and a few other miscellaneous items. This was the part she always found the most interesting, seeing what others thought was priceless or coveted enough to lock up.

Elizabeth picked up the last small jewelry case and opened it, gasping when she saw what was inside. There was a freshly cleaned, brilliant sapphire ring, clearly an heirloom piece by the antique setting. The box was freshly lined with velvet. The ring could easily be a wedding ring. Elizabeth felt herself go slightly faint, wondering if it had been meant for her. Between the flaming review the housekeeper had given her master that afternoon, the knowledge that he was such an honest businessman that she had just discovered for herself, and now this ring, that feeling of regret began to creep into her thoughts again.

She reached her finger out to caress the stone before she closed the case. She was about to turn around and put it back in its place when the door to the hallway suddenly swung open. She had been so absorbed in the ring that she had not been listening carefully and had not heard any footsteps. She froze, waiting to see who came through.

Her heart dropped to her toes when she looked into the shocked face of the master of the house.

Darcy froze when he saw the light on his desk and heard the gasp from the intruder. How had someone broken into Pemberley? His home, his castle, which supposed to give him a feeling of security, had been violated.

The strange man had stopped and was watching him, he could see, though the mask covering his face hid his expression. The stranger continued to stare as Darcy took in what was held in his hand and the open safe behind him. Darcy felt his stomach clench at the sight of his grandmother's ring box in the clutches of a thief. The same ring he had just put away, securely he thought, that afternoon. In his sentimental foolishness, he had come to look at it again when he had been unable to sleep due to thoughts of her.

"Put that down," he commanded in his firmest voice. He felt confident, knowing he stood between the would-be thief and both exits. He could handle himself in a fight, if needed.

Darcy watched as the man's eyes flickered to the window before he slowly set the ring down. Darcy never moved his eyes, knowing that the latch was sticky and there was no swift escape that way.

The man moved quickly, all but launching himself at the window, but Darcy was quicker, and landed on him in a flying tackle. There was a slight cracking sound and the thief grunted and gasped. Darcy was surprised at how slight he was; no bigger than a boy of fourteen or fifteen. It was rare to see an adult man with such a slim build, but it seemed impossible that a boy could break in and pick the lock on his safe. The man fought valiantly for one so small, especially if he had cracked ribs, trying to claw his way from under Darcy. Darcy moved to hold him down with a leg and grasp him by the shoulders when he grazed the thief's chest.

"What the devil?" he exclaimed, reaching back to check what he thought he felt, only to pull his hand back as though he had been burned.

That most definitely did not belong on a man.

His surprise was his downfall, however, as the apparent woman took advantage and slammed the heel of a hand into his jaw and under his ribs in quick succession, then brought her knee up and slammed it into his inner thigh, barely missing his groin. It was enough to send him off-balance, and she threw herself at him, knocking him over.

He could swear he heard her whisper an apology as she scrambled up quickly and dashed for the window again. Darcy moved to follow, figuring he had a moment to catch his breath, when she leapt out the window.

He had not counted on it being open already.

He reached the window and looked out and down. She was headed for the woods, heavily favoring her right leg and holding her right arm. She must have landed on that side. He watched her until she was out of sight.

Elizabeth was thankful that she only had one-and-a-half floors to fall, otherwise landing on her hip might have broken her. As it was, a shock of pain lanced through her torso like nothing she had ever felt before. If her ribs were not cracked, she would be very surprised.

Mr. Darcy could move.

She knew she had no time, though, and got up to do a limping shuffle-run into the woods. She had gotten the information she had come for, but it was a long five mile walk back to Lambton, and she had an aunt and uncle on the other end who would not be pleased.

Nearly two agonising hours later she found herself at the back of the inn, staring at the open window on the second floor, wondering if she would be able to make the climb. It was not as though she could go waltzing through the front door in her gear. She could not enter a public room with a mask on, and she was dressed rather oddly for a woman, with her black boots, breeches, and tunic.

Elizabeth took a painful, deep, breath, and then grabbed hold of the rough brick of the building. She pulled herself up to the first foothold and clenched her jaw through the pain. She did not think she would blackout, however, so she slowly worked her way up to the window. She wrapped her arm around the frame and dragged her body through, landing in a pile on the floor with a loud thump. She pulled her mask off and laid there, not moving, as she caught her breath.

She was not the least bit surprised when her aunt opened her door no more than a minute later.

"Lizzy?" she whispered. "Lizzy, why are you laying on the floor? Are you hurt?"

Elizabeth groaned out what she hoped sounded like a yes.

Her aunt rushed over. "What happened?" she asked as she knelt down to help Elizabeth sit.

Elizabeth grimaced through the process and took a few breaths before she answered. "The master of the house came home a day early."

Her aunt gasped, "Did he recognise you?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No, but he tackled me. That man moves remarkably well for one so used to pampering. Aunt Gardiner, I think I cracked my ribs."

"Well, I am not surprised if he landed on top of you. He likely outweighs you by two or three stone at least."

"Aye. Will you help me dress for bed? I do not think I can do it alone."

"Of course. Are you certain he did not recognise you, though? You could be in danger if he did."

"No, I think he was too surprised to discover that I was not a man."

"How did he find that out?"

"I have things on my chest that are rather shocking to find on a man, apparently," Elizabeth replied dryly.

Mrs. Gardiner snorted a laugh, "I should be horrified, but really, that must have been a surprise. I imagine his face was a sight to behold."

Elizabeth grinned, "It was. Even better was his surprise when I attacked him and threw him off of me."

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head and grew more serious, "That was too close. I do not like that you are endangering your reputation for this, let alone your life. What if you had been caught? Your family would never again be able to move in society."

"We have been through this before, Aunt. You know that we owe a debt to the crown that must be repaid, and Father cannot do it. Without a son, it fell to one of us. I am the most able, so here we are. If I must exchange my future for the sake of my sisters, I am prepared to do so. You have done everything you can to keep me safe, and for that I thank you. Besides, not being able to move in society is preferable to the alternative."

"I will be grateful when the year is out. How we have kept this quiet for over two-and-a-half years already, I do not know."

Elizabeth would not argue with that, and they moved on to helping her ready for bed. Her aunt checked her ribs, and agreed that they were most likely deeply bruised at best. She wrapped them and gave Elizabeth a cup of tea meant to help her sleep. Mrs. Gardiner reminded her that Mr. Gardiner and herself were going to be out visiting on the morrow, and then left her alone.

Elizabeth spent some time with her thoughts before the tea settled her body enough to overcome the pain. She agreed with her aunt; tonight had been too close. If Mr. Darcy had managed to hold on to her or even just rip her mask off, she did not want to think of what would have happened. He likely resented her enough to have no qualms about exposing her. Even turning her into the local magistrate would have been the end; the man would not know of her arrangement and she would likely be exposed before the crown could interfere. Her ability to move around the country without notice would be gone and her usefulness with it. With less than three months to go, her family would be finished.

With those thoughts, she settled into a troubled sleep.

A/N: I have been tossing around how Elizabeth could/would have been a spy. Hopefully that isn't too shocking. This scene and a later one are some of what caused it to start with, though I'm finding this one doesn't fit in my possible long story. I didn't want to let these go. While I work on the longer one, I decided to put this out there to feel out the response to the idea. This should be about five or six fairly short chapters, and I'm going to be asking you to suspend a LOT of disbelief on how members of the government would have behaved to make that possible (unknown faces in power make easy plot devices).

If you're wondering what's happening to Unanswered Prayers, you can find a short update and a link to a blog post about it on my profile.