“That’s very kind of you.” Wren rubbed her temples. She could hardly remember why she’d come down here in the first place with how quickly he flitted from topic to topic. “But with the patient in the state he’s in, I’m afraid I have no time.”

Lowry frowned. “Of course. Do keep me posted on his progress.”

“I will.”

With that, he turned over his shoulder and snapped his fingers. “Hannah, darling?”

Hannah jumped, dropping her feather duster with a clatter that echoed through the hall. It dislodged a layer of dust from the east wing’s tapestry.

Lowry pinched the bridge of his nose. “When you’ve quite surfeited yourself with scrubbing the varnish from that table, put this away for Ms. Southerland, will you?”

“Yes, milord.”

“Splendid.” Lowry descended the last flight of stairs and dumped Wren’s coat into Hannah’s waiting arms. She fumbled for only a moment before cradling it as reverently as a wedding dress. “I am going to calm my nerves, and you may do as you please. No one is to disturb me for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, milord,” she called after him as he rounded the corner. Somewhere in the depths of the house, his off-key whistling echoed off the walls before it was silenced by the slam of a door. Both Wren and Hannah flinched.

“Is he … always like that?” Wren dared to ask.

Hannah glanced her way, her mouth thinned to a wary line. “Like what?”

A tense silence washed over them. Although Wren wanted answers, she was painfully aware that she’d asked Hannah to speak against their employer. Hannah, who’d showed no signs of even tolerating her thus far. If she played her cards wrong, this could end badly for her. Considering her next move carefully, Wren said, “Erratic.”

Hannah hesitated. Then, all the tension melted out of her. “Yes, milady. He’s always like that.”

Wren clutched the banister, her fingers whitening against the wood. If this behavior was common, was it evidence for or against his character?

Hannah stepped onto the staircase but stopped on the landing beside Wren. “He used to frighten me as well, but you mustn’t let him get to you. Lord Lowry can be prone to dramatics when it suits him.”

“I’m beginning to see that now.” Wren paused. “Thanks.”

Hannah nodded, then lowered her eyes. But Wren recognized the emotion sparkling in her eyes all too well. Relief. “If you’ll excuse me.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

As soon as Wren closed the door to her room, every coherent thought slipped through her fingers like water. Without anyone to talk to or keep her focused, exhaustion caught her out. She’d spent her magic, pushed herself physically and mentally past the brink. Her mind became a muddle of words like murder and poison—dragging her deeper and deeper.

Tomorrow, she thought as she crawled into bed. Tomorrow I can …