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only then did Véronique notice it—the girl’s irregular gait. Véronique paused briefly on the thirdstory landing, her gaze dropping to where Lilly’s dress swooshed around her ankles. The sole of the girl’s right boot was markedly thicker than the left, and badly worn on one side. Lilly managed a smooth enough stride given the variance, but her compensation wasn’t enough to completely disguise the limp. Or the brace that framed the heel of her boot and extended up her leg.
    From the fleeting grimace on the girl’s face, Véronique guessed that the stairs were a struggle for her.
    Lilly paused at the last door on the right, and Véronique did the same, wanting to inquire but daring not. Lilly turned the knob and indicated with a flourish of her hand for Véronique to enter first.
    Decorated in soft florals of yellow with accents of crimson and green, the room provided a warm welcome, though it wasn’t a third the size of her private quarters in the Marchand residence. But it would suffice for now, until more suitable quarters could be arranged. Véronique sighed and stretched her shoulders, both weary and hopeful, but mostly thankful to have finally reached Willow Springs and to be done with that portion of her journey.
    “This is the only room in the hotel that has a bay window.” Lilly crossed the cozy quarters and pushed open the window, opening the shutters halfway. “Come and take a look.”
    Véronique didn’t budge. “Yes, I am certain it boasts an excellent view, as you claim. Perhaps I’ll look another time. I’m rather fatigued at the moment.”
    “Oh . . . of course. I’m sorry.”
    Regretting the apology she heard in the girl’s tone, Véronique sought to make up for it. “Thank you, Lilly, for giving me such a warm reception. Your kindness has helped to shorten the distance I feel from my home.”
    “And . . . where is your home?”
    “France. I was born in the city of Paris. I have lived there all my life.” Véronique ran a hand over the simple blocked quilt covering the bed. “Until now,” she added softly.
    A look of wonder brightened Lilly’s eyes, as did numerous questions. But to the girl’s credit, she didn’t pursue any of them.
    Véronique studied the girl as she crossed to the door. Not only smart, but sensitive as well. Such intelligence and beauty in one so young; yet beneath it all she sensed a fragility the girl kept well masqué , most of the time. And what was it the girl was saving for? She’d almost admitted as much downstairs moments ago, before catching herself. Perhaps a new bonnet, or a dress. All niceties a girl of her age would rightly desire.
    Véronique laid aside her parasol and reached into her réticule for some coins. “This is for you, Lilly.”
    Lilly stared at her outstretched hand. “Oh no, ma’am. You don’t need to do—’ ’
    Véronique took the liberty of pressing the coins into her palm. “An employee responsable is worth a goodly sum . . . remember?”
    Lilly looked at the money, and gave a shy nod. “Thank you, Mademoiselle Girard. I’m much obliged.” She paused at the threshold, her hand on the knob. “I’ll knock on your door as soon as your bath is drawn. It shouldn’t take me long, and the water closet’s only two doors down from yours.”
    Véronique scanned the room, only now noticing that it was without private bathing facilities. Recalling Lilly’s comment that this was the nicest room in the hotel, and thinking of the girl’s impediment, she masked her true feelings and offered her thanks as Lilly closed the door behind her.
    She unbuttoned her jacket and moved to hang it in the armoire , then noticed the dust covering the garment. Shaking it out as best she could, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was still arranged atop her head, minus a few curls slipping free, but there was something else about her image that made her pause.
    Stepping closer to the mirror, she decided what it was.
    My eyes