Chapter 7
The upstairs guest suite was larger than the entire dilapidated shack Mara and Toby had shared behind the railyards during the bitterest weeks of the previous winter. A massive stone fireplace dominated the far wall, its dancing orange flames casting long, comforting shadows across the polished walnut floorboards and the plush velvet armchairs arranged neatly in front of it. A deep, old-fashioned porcelain bathtub stood near the bathroom entrance, already filled to the brim with steaming water that billowed thick white clouds of fragrant vapor into the room.
Mrs. Higgins, a stout woman with silver hair pulled back into a neat bun and a flour-dusted apron over a dark wool dress, bustled about the room like a benevolent storm. She carried an armload of soft, freshly laundered flannel pajamas and heavy wool robes, placing them carefully across the foot of the enormous canopy bed. When she turned around and saw Mara standing hesitantly by the door with Toby still clutched in her arms, the older woman stopped dead in her tracks, her hands flying to her mouth as a sharp intake of breath escaped her lips.
“Oh, my blessed stars,” Mrs. Higgins whispered, her eyes instantly shimmering with unshed tears. She crossed the room in a few quick, purposeful strides, stopping just short of touching Mara to avoid frightening her. “Look at you both. You’re skin and bone, absolutely frozen through to the marrow.” She turned her head slightly toward the doorway where Arthur stood watching quietly. “Mr. Vance, where on earth did you find these poor lambs?”
“At a bakery downtown, Mrs. Higgins,” Arthur replied softly from the doorway. “The kind of place where people walk past without seeing. But we saw them tonight. I need you to work your usual magic with them. I’ll be downstairs in the study when you’re finished; we have much to discuss regarding their future.”
With a firm nod, Mrs. Higgins turned her full attention back to the children. She reached out gently, taking Toby from Mara’s stiff, aching arms with practiced ease. The toddler let out a brief cry of protest, but the warm, motherly scent of lavender and freshly baked bread that emanated from Mrs. Higgins instantly calmed him, and he allowed himself to be carried toward the steaming bath without a fight. “There we go, little man. We’re going to get all this nasty soot washed away and put on some nice, warm clothes that actually fit.”
Mara stood by the door, feeling suddenly naked and exposed without her heavy burden of responsibility. For nine years, every action she took had been calculated around protecting Toby, keeping him warm, and finding their next scrap of food. Standing here in this luxurious bathroom with a stranger offering to bathe them felt like stepping out of armor she had worn for too long. Her legs wobbled slightly, and she reached out to steady herself against the doorframe as a wave of dizziness washed over her.
Mrs. Higgins noticed instantly, setting Toby down on a plush bath mat where he sat staring curiously at his own reflection in the polished brass fixtures. The housekeeper swept over to Mara, wrapping a strong, comforting arm around the girl’s trembling shoulders. “Easy now, sweetheart. You’ve carried that weight long enough for one lifetime. Let us take over for a little while.”
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Guided gently by the housekeeper’s firm, reassuring touch, Mara allowed herself to be led toward the warm water. As she stepped out of her oversized shoes and peeled off the stiff, filthy beige dress she had worn for months, she felt as though she were shedding an old skin. Immersing herself in the hot, soothing water, she closed her eyes and let the warmth soak deep into her aching muscles, watching the dark rings of soot swirl down the porcelain drain like ghosts of a life left behind.
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