Chapter 9
The pale morning sun filtered through the heavy velvet drapes of the east wing guest suite, casting long, golden bars of light across the plush Persian rug. Mara stirred slowly, her eyelids fluttering open as she tried to reconcile her unfamiliar surroundings with the harsh reality of the rail yards she expected to wake up in. Instead of the damp smell of coal dust and rotting timber, the air smelled faintly of lavender, beeswax, and crisp linen. She sat up abruptly, a sudden surge of panic making her heart race as she searched the enormous room for Toby.
Her fears were instantly put to rest when she spotted her brother sleeping soundly in a smaller trundle bed pulled up beside the massive canopy bed. He was dressed in clean, soft flannel pajamas with tiny blue stars, his dark curls resting peacefully against a plump down pillow, his breathing deep and even. On a small mahogany table nearby sat a glass of fresh orange juice and a covered silver plate that radiated a comforting warmth.
The heavy oak door creaked open a fraction of an inch, and Mrs. Higgins poked her head inside, breaking into a warm, crinkling smile when she saw Mara sitting upright. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” the housekeeper whispered, stepping fully into the room carrying a fresh set of clothes draped over her arm. “Did you sleep well?”
Mara nodded slowly, still clutching the edge of the heavy comforter up to her chin. “Where... where are we, Mrs. Higgins?” she asked, her voice sounding clearer than it had the night before, though still tinged with residual caution.
“You’re in Vance Manor, dear heart,” Mrs. Higgins said, setting the clothes down on a chair near the bed. The garments consisted of a simple, elegant dark blue wool skirt, a cream-colored cotton blouse with delicate lace trim, and a pair of soft leather shoes that looked brand new. “Mr. Vance had these brought up from a local children’s outfitter late last night. He wanted to make sure you had something comfortable to wear for breakfast.”
Mara stared at the clothes, running her fingers over the soft texture of the wool. In her entire life, she had never worn anything that hadn’t been handed down twice over or salvaged from a charity bin. “Mr. Vance bought these for me?”
“Every last stitch of them,” Mrs. Higgins replied warmly, seating herself gently on the edge of the mattress. “And he’s downstairs waiting for you both in the morning room whenever you’re ready. No rush, mind you. Take all the time you need. But I promise you, there are hot pancakes, fresh butter, and plenty of hot chocolate downstairs with your names on them.”
As if summoned by the mention of food, Toby stirred in his bed, letting out a long, contented yawn before rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. He blinked sleepily at the unfamiliar ceiling, then looked over at Mara with a confused expression. “Sissy?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Where are we?”
Mara scrambled out of her bed, her bare feet sinking luxuriously into the thick carpet as she hurried over to her brother’s side. She sat down on the edge of his mattress, pulling him into a gentle hug. “We’re safe, Toby,” she whispered into his hair, feeling a fresh wave of emotion swell in her chest. “We’re really safe.”
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Forty minutes later, washed, dressed in their new clothes, and hand-in-hand, Mara and Toby stepped out of the guest suite and followed the winding, carpeted corridor toward the grand staircase. At the bottom of the steps stood Arthur Vance, waiting patiently with a gentle smile that transformed the lines of his face, making him look less like an austere corporate titan and more like a grandfather welcoming his family home.
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