Maud kept within his shadow. Before her was a grand staircase, carpeted in crimson; overhead was a forest of Greek columns and a host of chandeliers. A gentleman in a dark suit edged forward, the intention to evict them clear in his eyes.
“You’re just the man I need to help me,” boomed Rory, causing the tourists in the lobby to turn their heads. “I’m Rory Hugelick, and I’m here to see Mrs. Charles Lambert. This little girl” — he yanked Maud’s hand — “almost died in the fire last night. Mrs. Lambert will want to see her.”
The clerk cast a nervous look around the room. He saw that the hotel guests were eavesdropping. Maud heard a woman murmur, “Poor little thing!”
“If you’ll come this way, sir.” The clerk ushered them into a small room off the main lobby. “I’ll tell Mrs. Lambert you wish to see her.”
Maud squeezed Rory’s hand in gratitude.
“Remember,” Rory warned her, “no more lies.”
“All right,” agreed Maud, though how she was going to get through the next hour without lying she had no idea.
They waited only a short time before the hotel clerk held the door open for Mrs. Lambert. At the sight of Maud, the rich woman’s face lit up. Then it knotted with concern. “Mary!” She stooped down, placing her hands on Maud’s shoulders. “Gracious, look at you! You poor child!”
Maud felt her throat tighten. “I’m not Mary,” she croaked. “That isn’t my real name. I lied to you before.”
A faint frown appeared between Mrs. Lambert’s brows. “Never mind. We’ll worry about that later. Let me look at you. Poor lamb, you’re dreadfully cut and bruised! And there are splinters that ought to come out. Perhaps you should see a doctor. Dr. Knowles will be here this mo —”
“I need to see Muffet,” Maud broke in. “Our hired girl. The deaf woman,” she added, wanting to stop Mrs. Lambert before she said anything else that was nice.
Mrs. Lambert brightened. “Then you’re Maud! Oh, now I see! Anna wrote your name — she even drew me a picture — but of course I didn’t know —”
“Who’s Anna?” asked Rory.
“Anna. The Hawthornes’ deaf servant,” explained Mrs. Lambert. “They call her Muffet, but she wrote down that her name was Anna. She’s been greatly distressed — she thinks the child died in the fire.” She held out her hands to Rory. “Thank you for bringing Maud here. You will excuse us, won’t you? I must take her to Anna at once.”
Maud didn’t hear Rory’s answer. Mrs. Lambert had captured her hand and was whisking her back through the lobby, up the grand staircase. Heads turned and voices murmured, but Mrs. Lambert paid no attention. Maud had to trot to keep up with her.
“Anna suffered a bad fracture,” Mrs. Lambert said in a low voice. “The doctor said both bones in her right leg must have been broken at one time and never set properly — perhaps never set at all. When she tried to go back into the building last night, one of the firemen seized her. She struggled with him on the stairs, and the bone just snapped. The pain must have been dreadful — she fainted — so you must be very careful not to jolt her.”
They had come to a pair of double doors. Mrs. Lambert turned the key in the lock and led Maud inside.
Maud had a brief impression of a vestibule, smaller than the great lobby downstairs but decorated in the same style. There were painted cupids on the ceiling and columned archways leading to different rooms. Mrs. Lambert led her into a room that overlooked the ocean.
Muffet lay asleep, covered with a sheet. Her eyes were deeply shadowed, the eyelids reddened from weeping. Maud could see that her right leg was encased in some contraption that kept it immobile. She felt suddenly frightened. She didn’t want Muffet to look like that — so shrunken and sad, with that cruel-looking thing on her leg.
Mrs. Lambert took Muffet’s hand. She rubbed Muffet’s palm between her fingers and thumb. “Anna,” she said urgently. “It’s good news. Wake up.”
Muffet blinked. Her eyes went past Mrs. Lambert to Maud. Her sleep-stiffened face underwent a change: every feature lifted and blossomed with joy. She held out her arms, whimpering like a wounded dog.
Maud forgot about not jolting the bed. She ran into Muffet’s arms and Muffet caught her. The hired woman emitted a squeal of anguish but didn’t let go. She dragged Maud into her lap, squeezing so hard that Maud cried out with pain as well as happiness.
Maud shut her eyes and burrowed into Muffet’s nightgown. She gave herself up to the comfort of being rocked and held. Tears stole out from under her eyelids, but she wasn’t ashamed. Muffet wouldn’t laugh at her. Maud nestled closer, drawing in the warm kitchen smell that was distinctly Muffet’s. She wanted to stay there forever.
But she did have to breathe. Reluctantly she lifted her face. Muffet was beaming. Mrs. Lambert had stepped away and stood in the door frame, watching them with misty eyes.
Muffet stuck out her hand imperiously. It was Mrs. Lambert who read her intention and stepped forward to give Muffet pencil and paper. Maud watched as the hired woman scrawled MAUD IN FIRE.
Maud nodded vehemently. She took the tablet and drew the steps. She drew herself climbing them, with wavy lines to indicate smoke. She wrote MAUD GO SEE MU ANNA IN FIRE. “I tried to find you,” she said earnestly, hoping that Muffet would be able to read the truth in her eyes. “When the fire came, I tried to find you, but you weren’t in the house.”
Muffet fingered Maud’s torn dress. She sniffed loudly. You smell of smoke. She examined Maud critically, running her fingers over every scraped patch of skin, every scab and splinter. Maud waited for the diagnosis. When Muffet finished, she nodded, and though the nod was grim, Maud relaxed. It’s not so bad. You’ll live.
The hired woman took up her pencil. She sketched two small pictures: one of Maud in a bathtub, and the other of Maud sitting before a plate, spoon in hand. She wrote, MAUD GO IN BATHTUB. MAUD EAT. — and passed the tablet to Mrs. Lambert.
Mrs. Lambert laughed. “Very well, Anna. I’ll manage it. You sleep.” She pillowed her head on her arms, raising her eyebrows to emphasize the command. She reached for Maud’s hand. “Come. I’ll look after you. She really must sleep. The doctor gave her a sleeping draft last night, but she was so distraught, it did very little good. We didn’t understand.” A faint line appeared between her brows. “None of us understood why she was so upset. Of course, the others didn’t know you were in the house.”
They had come back to the vestibule. Maud pulled her hand out of Mrs. Lambert’s. She glanced at the other archways. Any minute now, Hyacinth and Judith might appear and swoop down on her like a pair of harpies. She cleared her throat. “They knew I was in the house.”
Mrs. Lambert shook her head. “No. They couldn’t have. Why, I was there when the fireman asked. He asked if there was anyone in the house, and Hyacinth —” Her voice trailed off. Maud saw the dawning horror in her face.
“Hyacinth knew,” Maud said in a muffled voice. “She left me there.”
“Left you —? That’s impossible! No one would — Where were you?”
“In the map cupboard. That’s what we call the place inside the mantel — the fireplace in the parlor’s hollow. I was hiding.” Maud averted her eyes. “Mrs. Lambert,” she confessed, “I was Caroline.”
“Caroline?” The whisper hung in the air like a ghost. Mrs. Lambert touched her fingers to her lips. Her face was white.
Maud swallowed. For the past six months it had been drummed into her that any indiscretion on her part would result in Mrs. Lambert’s understanding the plot against her. The minute Mrs. Lambert knew of Maud’s existence, she would spring to the conclusion that it was Maud who was impersonating her dead child. But Mrs. Lambert had suspected nothing. Maud was going to have to explain the whole thing. In the midst of remorse and fear, Maud felt a pang of regret for what she was about to forfeit: the hot bath, the good food, and Mrs. Lambert’s coddling.