“I believe you,” he said.
“Your mother opened the door herself,” Maud went on. “I can’t tell you how beautiful she was. She was sort of framed in light. She looked like I wanted to look but knew I never would because of, like I said, the nose, ears, elbows, and knees. She used to wear her hair up while she worked. She could do absolutely anything on the farm, in the house, with the horses … But it was nighttime, so her hair was down. It was wavy and black, like yours. Her eyes were dark, but they never shut you out, they drew you in. She refused to use cosmetics. Fernley hated that because he didn’t want people to think they couldn’t afford them. Which they couldn’t. Anyway, I never saw a woman who needed them less. She was twenty-six, I think—and she only had nine years left to live.”
Maud frowned, and hugged her knees.
“I must have looked frightful, standing there in the doorway that first day. Terrified. Underfed. Clutching Vesuvius against my chest. I hadn’t told them that I’d be bringing a cat, and I was petrified that they wouldn’t let me keep him. But your mother smiled at me so warmly. She petted Suvi. She invited me in, as if I were a guest. She was showing me to my room—I’d expected a cot in the kitchen!—when Fernley accosted us in the hallway. He looked me over in the most humiliating way. I was fifteen! He was … Well, I forget exactly how old he was, but something like thirty-five. Finally, he looked at Vesuvius. ‘Put that disgusting thing in the barn,’ he said. ‘If I see it again, I’ll cut it open and stuff it.’ Your mother saw how upset that made me. When Fernley walked away, she said, ‘My husband will not harm your friend. He can barely slice a tomato.’
“But I did have to take Vesuvius to the barn, and he howled for a week. You’ve heard what he sounds like. The other servants warned me that Fernley wouldn’t put up with it. The cook said, ‘Your cat’s not long for this world, girl. Best steel yourself.’ I crept out to see Suvi when I could. I begged him to be quiet. But he always howled louder when I left. It was heartbreaking. One night when I went to the barn, the door swung open and gave me a start. It was your mother. She had been sneaking out to see Vesuvius, too—she’d been bringing him scraps of food! That may not sound especially brave, but believe me, it was. She might have mocked Fernley, but she dreaded his temper. We all did.
“Fernley would detonate over the tiniest thing. He was very prim and fussy, and he demanded that everything be just so. That silver comb you’re carrying was supposedly ‘electro-magnetic.’ It was very expensive, and supposedly cured headaches and prevented baldness. Fernley had written away for it. One time the maid who cleaned his chamber mislaid the comb for an hour, and he beat her for it. Obviously, the comb was found, but he still deducted the cost of it from the woman’s wages! That’s the sort of man he was. And honestly, he was already so bald that even if god himself had forged a comb for him, it wouldn’t have made a difference.
“When I saw your mother coming out of the barn, I was so moved that I cried. She hugged me, which is not something that employers did. It wasn’t something my own mother did! We just stood there in the darkness, and when Suvi began howling again, your mother started crying, too. I knew then that I would do anything for her.
“Fernley eventually relented, and let Vesuvius live in my room. It was only because he wanted me to be grateful to him. He wanted me to lower my guard.
“One night, I was in the kitchen, up to my elbows in suds. Alone. Fernley crept up behind me, and fondled me like he owned me. I tried to elbow him but missed. He spun me around so I was facing him, and—I won’t even call it a kiss—he pushed his horrible mouth at my lips. It was vile. A row of pots hung from a rack above us. I remember them banging over our heads as I struggled. I finally shoved him away, and I apologized. That’s how out of mind with fear I was—I apologized to him for attacking me!
“I fled up the stairs to your mother. She glowed with rage when she heard the story. She went to Fernley’s chamber, and found his beloved ‘electro-magnetic’ comb. He kept it—I swear to you—on a swath of red velvet, like it was the Holy Grail itself. Your mother snatched it up and, while Fernley watched in horror, combed Vesuvius with it. Fernley never touched the comb again.
“Afterward, your mother told me if I wanted to leave the household, she’d write me a sterling recommendation and give me the money she’d hidden in a boot in her closet. She showed me the boot—that’s how much she trusted me. But much as I loathed Fernley, I couldn’t leave her. So she elevated my position. She made me her lady’s maid, even though she didn’t need one, so I’d always be at her side and she could protect me. Fernley saw what she was up to, and seethed because she’d outsmarted him. I turned sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. Fernley leered at me constantly. Your mother was watchful—and I never went into a room unless there was at least one other person in it—and he didn’t get his awful hands on me again for a very long time.”
fifteen
Maud stopped speaking. She looked like someone surfacing from a dream.
“Are you unwell?” said X.
“No,” said Maud, “it’s just that that’s more words than I’ve spoken in years.”
Across the tunnel, the Ukrainian wore a look of disgust. He beat the bat against the ground.
“This Fernley—terrible prick,” he said. “What Lowlands need are bounty hunter who can travel through time, such as Dr. Who. If I were bounty hunter of such kind, I bring sophisticated explosive device into past—and shove it up Fernley’s ass, okay? Is true fact.”
Maud tried not to laugh but couldn’t help it.
“Fernley got what he deserved—possibly more,” she said. She looked at X. “The next part of the story is terrible. I haven’t let myself think about it for years. Do you mind if I rest before I tell it?”
“Of course not,” said X, though he couldn’t bear the wait.
Maud set Vesuvius on the ground. The cat arched his back grandly, yawned, then went back to sleep. Maud lay down and curled herself around him.
One by one they all dropped off, save Regent, who prowled the tunnels to be certain they were safe.
An hour later, X jerked up from the floor. Something had woken him. Regent was nowhere to be seen. X listened again for the noise that had jarred him. There it was again.
A scraping. A scuffling.
Boots.
It wasn’t Regent. X knew the lord’s tread by now.
A guard came around the corner, and stopped dead at the sight of X and the others. It was the Cockney guard who’d hauled Ripper down the river. He was one of Dervish’s most sycophantic minions. For a weapon, he carried the base of a lamp.
X stood. The Cockney stepped backward.
X knew that he and his companions looked like runaways—because they were runaways.
“Wait,” he said.
But the guard ran.
X’s mind whirled. Should he wake the others?
He chased the Cockney through three twists in the tunnel. The guard had a jutting belly and a shriveled-apple of a face—Ripper used to call him Mr. Ugly—but he was quick on his feet.
When X drew close enough to reach for him, the guard spun, and jabbed him in the stomach with the lamp.
X staggered. The guard moved in on him, panting.
“Dunno wot you’re up to, but it’s sure to be mischief,” he said.
X, still trying to find his breath, decided to gamble and tell the truth.
“I am searching for my mother,” he said. “I have never known her. Never seen her.” The Cockney remained stony-faced. “Was your mother dear to you?”
The guard eyed him.
“Let’s not bring me dear mum into this,” he said.
“I just want to know mine a little,” said X.