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I poured tea into her cup, then my own. “You’re from a farming family?”
She wrapped her hands around the porcelain, and this time she blinked before she shook her head. “No. My… my father was an important man once. That’s how I learned sums and letters.”
I took a sip of my tea as I considered. I had rather hoped for someone with experience with some sort of craft. There was a common language among artisans, one that it was useful to know if one was to take orders.
“I… I don’t have anywhere else to go,” Lilja said. “I had to leave my home rather abruptly, and I have nothing but the clothes I’m currently wearing. No money, either.”
Her eyes filled with tears. My throat filled with a lump the size of a cherry.
“It’s just that you’re a stranger,” I said. “You could be a thief for all I know.”
She looked up at me, and the pain in her eyes made that cherry grow into an apple. “I’m not. I swear, I’m not. I know it’s odd for me to show up here with nothing at all but… but I had to flee from someone. That’s why I’m a bit disheveled.”
“Did they want to hurt you?” I asked.
Lilja nodded, and I thought of Helena and the bruises on her arms and legs when Alma and I had first brought her to Norstad. It made sense now, the way Lilja had glanced over her shoulder out in the store. She was as skittish as a doe—and with good reason, it appeared.
Like Helena, she was a fugitive.
“All right,” I said because I couldn’t stand the thought of those bruises on anyone else. “I’ll take you on as a trial for a week.”
Lilja wiped her eyes with the corner of her shawl. “Thank you. I’m in your debt.”
“You’ll want the room, too, then?”
“Oh yes, please. I… I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
I nodded at her cup. “If you finish your tea, I’ll show it to you. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s next to the kitchen so it’s nice and warm at night.”
“That’s good.” She pulled her shawl closer around her neck. “I feel as if I’ll never get warm again.”
“In there you will. And if not, you’re always welcome to sit by one of the ovens.”
“Thank you.” The corners of her lips quirked ever so slightly when she picked up the cup.
It was the first time I had seen her smile.
Chapter Four
The guest room had once been mine. After my father had died, I had moved into his chamber since it seemed only right that I should have the largest one. It stood as I had left it, the bed with the blue-and-white striped bedding, and the shelf with my little collection of children’s books.
“What do you think?” I asked.
“It’s very neat. I like it.”
The room was small, and we stood very close. She was short, her forehead right by my nose. Her dress was so long the hem dragged along the floorboards when she stepped up to the window.
“Do you live here alone?” she asked as she ran a hand down the curtain. Her fingers had a certain elegance. Despite the warmth in here, she was still clutching her shawl tightly around her with her free hand.
“I have a housekeeper,” I said. “Helena. She helps me in the shop as well. I’ll take you to meet her next.”
She followed me down the corridor. Helena stood and put her sewing on her chair when we entered.
“This is Lilja Norling. I’ve hired her for the store.”
Lilja took a step forward. Sawdust already clung to her hem, like flakes of snow on a woolen scarf.
Helena held out her hand. “Helena Eriksson. Welcome, Miss Norling.”
