Page 27 of Down Comes the Night

Isabel’s harsh words echoed in her mind:You’re foolhardy. You’re emotional. You’re easily manipulated. With your track record, you’re sooner to start a war than to end one.

“I don’t have the constitution of a diplomat,” she murmured.

“Nonsense.” He winked at her. “I think you’re perfect.”

So much could go wrong. But Isabel would not be able to ignore her when Wren alone carried the privilege of delivering Cernos’s diplomatic messages. Nor would she be able to ignore the slight of Cernos engaging with the royal bastard over her.

Itwastoo good to be true, but it would be satisfying to see her aunt humbled. Wren couldn’t help smiling. “I’ll do it.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Fishing his pen from the inkwell, Lowry scribbled his signature on a sheet of parchment and slid the document across the desk to her. Wren recognized the same elegant script from his letter. “I’ve had my good friend, the Duke of Matthonwy, and his lawyer draw up a contract for you. I thought that might make you feel more secure about this whole arrangement. I understand your position is a precarious one.”

Admittedly, a contract did reassure her. Since the world lately felt as if it were crumbling in her hands, she appreciated anything solid to hold onto. She accepted the pen from him and began to read. The preamble was little but stylized, overinflated jargon to her, but it covered the basics, his promise of asylum, provisions, and shelter. But the terms of her agreement gave her pause. They seemed… restrictive.

I, Wren Southerland, agree to the following stipulations:

I shall provide a detailed summary of the patient’s progress each week, at a regular appointment to be mutually agreed upon

I shall uphold the curfew and retire to my bedroom from midnight through six each morning

I shall not enter the east wing of the estate

I shall not leave the estate under any circumstances without express permission

If I fail to uphold these terms, I understand that the agreement is immediately terminated and accept all consequences thereof.

Wren desperately hoped the puzzlement—and indignation—that stilled her hand hadn’t made its way onto her face. Curfews and locked doors? Was she to be treated like a child here?

She snuck a glance at him. He was leaning back in his chair, watching her with the tip of his tongue wedged into the corner of his mouth. “Is something wrong, Ms. Southerland?”

A soft huff of laughter escaped her. “If you’ll forgive me, Lord Lowry, these terms are beginning to make me feel as if you’re my guardian rather than my employer.”

Lowry looked appropriately mortified. “I understand your concern. Lawyers are exceedingly, maddeningly thorough. But please don’t let it alarm you. If you’ll allow me to walk you through the contract, perhaps you’ll feel more comfortable with the arrangement.”

Wren crossed her arms. “Very well.”

“I assure you everything is entirely for your safety. As I mentioned before, this house is ancient. Due to some, shall we say… structural integrity issues, I cordoned off access to the entire east wing.”

She remembered how cold it was on that side of the house. “What happened?”

“A few months ago, I asked for some renovations. Many of the walls are solid stone, which makes it difficult to install electrical conduits, and…” He trailed off, waving a hand. “Well, I won’t bore you with the technicalities. While the engineers were working, a staircase collapsed and buried a few of them. Needless to say,the east wing is too dangerous—and too dark, besides. Since that incident, I’ve put a moratorium on the project, so you may find some rooms still have gas lamps. Yours included, I’m afraid. Terribly sorry about that.”

“Oh,” Wren said quietly.

“As for remaining here… It’s partly for quarantine, as I’d hate to see this disease spread beyond the walls of Colwick Hall. However, you are the professional, and should you need to leave, I will happily grant my permission. I merely want to know when to expect you home in case I need to send a search out for you. This time of year, you’ll be dead of exposure before you can blink.”

“Does that… happen often?”

“Oh, yes. Why, just a few years ago, we had a casualty at one of my parties. Wandered out into a blizzard, no shoes or anything. Goddess rest his soul, the poor bastard.”

Lowry sounded so blasé about it all. How much tragedy had happened here? While it made sense to be cautious when he’d lost so much, Wren still couldn’t help feeling uneasy about all these rules. “And the curfew?”

“Ah, that.” Lowry offered a sheepish smile. “That one has no rational explanation, I’m afraid. I haven’t been sleeping much since the illness broke out. Everything wakes me. I hope you’ll allow me some unreasonableness. If it’s any consolation, everyone abides by it, including myself.”

“Of course.” Wren swallowed thickly, racking her brain for anything else to quibble with. But she was a guest in his home. He was doing her an immense service. The very least she could do was swallow her pride and adhere to his ridiculous rules during her stay.

“Please, let me know if I can do anything else to put your mind at ease.” A concerned furrow appeared between his brows. “I understand it can be cold and gloomy here. I want to make you feel as welcome as I can.”

“No, no. You’ve addressed all my concerns.” She managed a smile. “As for updates, I’ll give you my initial assessment of the patient…”