Page 84 of Down Comes the Night

“Yes,” Hannah said quietly. “I believe you do.”

It all poured out. Lowry’s initial offer, her discovery of the poison, its connection to the missing soldiers in Danu and Vesria, the tunnel in the east wing. Hannah sat ramrod straight in her chair, listening as her folded hands grew paler, her eyes grew duller.

“Alistair Lowry was never a good man, but I never thought…” Tangled up in her voice was grief and rage. “Some of them raised him. Some of themlovedhim.”

“You will have justice,” Hal said, “if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Good.” Hannah rose from her seat, dusting off her apron. She wore her prim expression, brows arched and lips pursed, like armor. “Then I suppose I should let you both get back to work.”

With that, the three of them slipped back into the grand hall. A new wave of servants seemed to have arrived in the few minutes they’d been gone, transforming the house yet again. They’d hoisted chandeliers, twinkling with red gemstones and red lights, above banquet tables draped in dark fabrics. Wren breathed in the delicate smell of flowers; bouquets of deep purple calla lilies and black roses spilled from a nearly waist-high vase. She paused to admire the scene, but before she could say a word, a voice cut through the buzz of the room. Wren’s heart plummeted like a stone to the bottom of a lake.

“Out of my way! Begone, all of you.”

A group of servants clustered on the second-story landing scattered like billiards to the edges of the staircase. Lowry emerged from the middle of them, descending the stairs so quickly he seemed to glide. The sight of him snatched her breath away.

He stood at the landing above them, clutching an overfull glass of dark wine, which lapped hungrily at the rim. He had forgone his usual jaunty red in favor of solid black, from his polished boots to his billowing tailcoat to his ribbon-wrapped top hat. The only bright contrast was his ever-present key, winking gold at his throat.

A bolt of realization struck her. Of course. How could she have overlooked something so obvious? The bloody fingerprints coating it on the night she’d caught him in the east wing.

“Hal,” Wren whispered.“Look.”

His eyes flashed with recognition, just as Lowry noticed her. She caught Hal’s wrist. His forearm tightened; then, his fingers went slack. With the pads of her fingers, she painted the grooves between his knuckles. He took her hand in his. They needed each other to survive this, as they always had.

Lowry’s even stride faltered as he drank them in, hand in hand. Something strange flickered across his face: fear. Then, in an instant, it vanished, as if she’d imagined it altogether.

Today, all his warmth was gone. In its place was cold fury. Wren nearly staggered back at the force of it. He alighted on the ground floor and stalked toward them with such purpose and malice radiating from him, she feared he would lunge. Hal placed himself between her and Lowry.

“Where have you twobeen?” His voice was icy and quiet, but every servant in the room seemed to hold their breath to listen. Even the house itself sagged like a bellows, as if every wall buckled under the effort of overhearing.

Wren stammered. “I asked Hannah to tell you—”

“Yes, indeed. Hannah told me your inane rationale,” he snapped.

“Lord Lowry,” Hal began, but Wren was in no mood for his politicking. “This was—”

“Inane?” she cut in. “He would have died!”

With one violent arc of his arm, Lowry dashed the glass he was holding against the floor. It shattered with a high, ringing sound. Glass shards skittered across the floor. Wine spattered Wren’s skirts. The silence that followed was broken only by her shaky exhale when she remembered how to relax her diaphragm. She did not recognize this man. There was nothing of the nervous, gracious host she had first met. Nothing of his easy charm or sugary promises.

There was no more pretense. He was a stranger, and heterrifiedher.

“I was… beside myself.” Lowry’s voice was quiet. “You didn’t tell me where you were going, and I didn’t know what to do.”

Wren tore her eyes away from his distressed face. At her feet, the wine stain spread across the floor like a pool of blood.

“Look at me. What a fool I am, already in mourning for you both. And worst of all, I’ve wasted a perfectly good vintage.” He glanced, dismayed, at the glittering mess of wine and broken glass. He placed a foot over the intact stem. It split in twain with the same neatpopof a tearing ligament. “I quite liked that one. It was the last bottle I had. Alas.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” Wren said placatingly.

“Worrying me?” He rounded on her again. “You nearly killedme with fright. I feared the storm had taken you. What would I have told my guests? Or your aunt for that matter? Ineedyou, Ms. Southerland. Do you understand?”

“No,” she said shakily. “I don’t. I’ve already done what you’ve asked of me.”

“Not yet,” he said, almost to himself.

Then he noticed Hal bristling beside her. Lowry’s emotions cycled too quickly for her to process them, but he settled on excitement. He clapped Hal on the shoulder. “Would you believe it? Henry, you’re alive and well. I’m positively thrilled.”

It made Wren’s skin crawl to hear such a blatant lie.You did this to him,she wanted to scream.So why did you send for me?Countless servants were dead. Their comrades were gone. But she and Hal were still here, still alive. For what dubious honor? For what scheme?