own cousin?” I asked.
“Last night I dreamed of a way to help you escape,” Olga said. “What if we dress you as a maid, in Emilia’s clothes, and tell the guards you must take Ortipo to the veterinarian?”
Tatiana held her little bulldog tighter. “Ortipo is perfectly healthy.”
“But what if we fake an illness?” Olga asked. “Put chili powder under her nose.”
Tatiana smoothed the dog’s head. “I couldn’t live without her.”
“Sofya can deliver Ortipo to the vet and make her way back to Malinov. Emilia will pack Sofya food for the trip and I will contribute all the pocket money I have.”
“Is the staff still loyal to you?” I asked.
“Mostly, but we never know who is on duty—they come and go to see their families. The new guards hate it, never able to establish a firm roster.”
“So, they wouldn’t recognize my face as new?”
Olga smiled. “It’s bound to work.”
Once Olga and Tatiana dressed me in their maid Emilia’s black dress and white apron, complete with round, tortoiseshell spectacles and black sealskin boots, they stepped back to admire their work.
Olga pinned the regulation white organdy cap on my head. “Hurry, now. Paul the guard is on until noon. Tatiana is his favorite.”
Tatiana helped me into a black cloth uniform coat and shrugged. “He’s cute and kind and sneaks us the most delicious rum balls from the village.”
“You make a perfect maid.”
Tatiana handed me a canvas kit bag, which held a feast of black bread and cheeses, my folded trousers and coat, an ostrich-skin coin purse stuffed with her pocket money, and a flask of water.
“They will search you as you leave,” Tatiana said. “Sometimes in a most roguish way, looking for smuggled letters or jewels they can confiscate. But even if they didn’t, we have no weapons to give you. I slipped your letters under the bag’s lining.”
“They deny us even butter knives,” Olga said. She reached both hands behind her neck and unclasped her pearls. “But these may help.”
“No, Olga,” I said.
“It will make me happy and you might use them better than I. The guards won’t see them as valuable.”
Tears filled my eyes as Olga clasped the pearls around my neck and tucked them inside the collar of my dress.
“We must hurry, now. Don’t say a word—”
“I speak good Russian.”
“Too good, I’m afraid,” Olga said. “He’ll know you’re not a maid the minute you open your mouth. Let us deal with the guards. You’ll see Tatiana’s great skill as an actress.”
Tatiana slid Ortipo into my arms. “You will find the veterinarian next to the sweetshop in the village. They know her there. Tell them she has been sneezing and ask them to deliver her back here. Then be on your way.”
Olga smiled and kissed my cheek. “A kiss for Luba.” She kissed the other cheek. “And may God help you, cousin.”
* * *
—
OLGA AND TATIANA LED me to the servants’ entrance, just off the kitchen on the lower level, and Tatiana began her theatrics before we even arrived, hollering at me. “And if you are not back with her by noon, I will report you to the commander.”
As we walked, Olga waved a vial of something under the dog’s nose. “Remember, don’t speak.”
We stepped into the kitchen where a brutish-looking guard sat at the table, hat on. He chatted with a maid dressed as I was, as she served him a bowl of groats, steam rising from it. There was nothing cute or kind about this guard.
“Where is Paul?” Tatiana asked.
He raised his spoon, ready to eat. “On holiday. I’m Stas.”
Tatiana led the way toward the door. “Stas, Ortipo has to go to Dr. Tartello right away.”
The guard stood and hurried to stand between the door and us. “On whose orders?”
Ortipo convulsed with a wet, little sneeze.
“Can’t you see she’s sick?” Tatiana asked.
“I see it’s eating food that could go to the people.” Stas glanced at his bowl on the table and then turned to me. “Hurry up then, turn around.”
I turned as he patted me about the waist and down my legs.
“You servants in your fancy uniforms and livery. You no longer work for your old masters. The people pay you now.”
“Do hurry, Stas,” Tatiana said. “The doctor is only open until noon.”
Stas pulled my jaw open and took a long look inside.
Ortipo sneezed again, spraying us both.
Stas wiped his hand on his trousers. “Get moving.”
I said a silent thank-you and, with one glance back at my cousins, stepped out the door.
“Hey, you,” Stas called out to me as