Page 9

In the corner, she held her hands out toward the oven.

“You’re cold?” I asked.

“A bit.”

Bending down next to her, I opened the door and threw another log on the fire. “It should heat up more now.”

“Thank you.”

When she stayed with her hands held out, I carried a chair over and put it down so she could sit. This time her thank you was accompanied by that wary smile. She brushed down her skirts before she sat, and I thought about what she had said—the clothes she was wearing were all she owned. She was about Helena’s size, and despite being a housekeeper, Helena had quite the wardrobe—courtesy of Alma and her penchant for giving her gifts. Probably Helena could be persuaded to let Lilja borrow a couple of her older frocks.

Helena entered and placed down a bowl of the hazelnuts I had collected from our backyard. The tree had stood there my entire life, and cracking that first nut was like a rite of passage into fall. I brought the nutcracker out from a drawer. It was in the shape of a troll with red eyes and sharp painted teeth—Father’s work. I placed a hazelnut in its maw, pushed the lever on its back, and the shell cracked. I held the nut out to Lilja. “Would you like one?”

“Thank you. I would.”

Her fingers brushed my palm when she took it. I did my best not to gawk at her while she chewed, but she captured my eyes like glue on wood.

“It’s been a very long time since I had a hazelnut,” she said.

“They’re our own. We have a tree out back.”

There was a knock on the door, and a moment later, Alma strolled in, bringing the smell of rain with her. She didn’t look surprised to see Lilja in my parlor because Helena had already gone to tell her why we wouldn’t be over for supper this evening. It seemed a bit much to bring not one but two of my employees to my uncle’s table. He was generous, he was, but I didn’t want to take advantage of his hospitality.

I introduced them to each other. Lilja stood and shook Alma’s hand. Alma greeted her with her usual warmth. She had always had the amiability I lacked.

“You do indeed look like cousins,” Lilja said, looking from Alma to me.

Alma laughed. “More like sisters if the wagging tongue of every meddling crone is to be believed. How are you liking the shop?”

“It’s enchanting with all the toys.”

“It is, isn’t it? I manage my father’s store next door. You should come by sometime.”

Lilja smiled. “I’d like that.”

Alma sat down on the sofa next to Helena. With Lilja here, they didn’t kiss, and they kept an arm’s length of air between them, but I saw how Alma’s eyes fell on the bracelet on Helena’s wrist. That reminded me. With Lilja showing up and then showing her the ropes, I had almost forgotten the questions I wanted to ask Alma.

“Do you know anything else about the doll your father gave me?” I said.

Alma shook her head. “He asked all sorts of questions the way he always does, but the executor knew nothing about it.”

“But who was this… this count?”

“A collector of antiques whose gambling led him into bankruptcy and his drinking to his death.”

“So the doll was simply part of a collection?”

“Yes. It seemed he had a bit of mania. His mansion was a heap. Rooms just stuffed with items.”

“Other dolls?”

“All things. Anything you can imagine.” She scrunched up her face. “There was even a taxidermy badger. I convinced my father to leave that one be.”

Helena laughed at that while I ate a hazelnut. The doll’s maker would remain a mystery then. It seemed it had come into this count’s collection simply because he liked to hoard and not because he was some sort of doll connoisseur.

Lilja’s face caught my eye. Perhaps it was the light from the kerosene lamp, but she looked paler than ever.

“Why do you ask?” Alma said to me.