“Oh.” He laughed lightly. “No. I’m sorry, I could’ve sworn I’d introduced myself. Call me Esjay. I’m the Rochester family’s attorney.”

“Then where is Mr. Rochester?”

“I’m sure he’ll be down soon. However, he prefers ‘Magnus.’ No sirs or ma’ams necessary, as stated in rule twenty-three of your contract.”

A bang like a slamming door echoed down the stairs, and I heard distant shouting.

Esjay folded his hands politely, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose, and then smiled at me. “It doesn’t look like Magnus will be joining us tonight after all. But I’ll gladly talk through the contract with you and answer any questions you—” Another bang, this one more like a gunshot. Esjay stood up quickly, his chair screeching against the hardwood. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” He rushed out of the room.

I listened to his dress shoes pound up the stairs, licked my fingers clean, then went after him.

The shouting made me pause at the top of the stairs to listen. Peggy and Esjay stood a little way down the hall, talking through a half-opened door while someone yelled at them from the other side. The argument ended with the door slamming, echoing in their faces.

Esjay patted Peggy’s shoulder, then turned in my direction. He seemed almost startled to see me standing there, then smiled and made his way over. “I’m afraid this isn’t a good night to talk business. Why don’t you read over the contract tonight, and I’ll be over tomorrow so we can discuss it?”

“Is he always this unreasonable?” I asked.

“He’s…” Esjay’s smile faded. “He’s not doing well tonight. Normally he’s in better spirits, but sometimes the curse, the evil in the house…”

“It takes a toll,” I finished. That was true of every household I’d cleansed—the host always felt it the worst.

He nodded, then cleared his throat. “Tomorrow will be better. It always is.”

“Esjay?” I said. He’d been heading down the stairs, but he turned slightly at my voice. “The gunshot?”

His features curved down, and he examined the rail of the stairs, as if to hide it. “No one was hurt.”

“And believe you me, child,” Peggy said, shoving by me—despite the hall being wide enough that she shouldn’t have had to. “Guns aren’t what you should be worried about around here.”

“Peggy,” Esjay said quietly, like a plea, and then looked at me. “With a résumé like yours, I doubt you’ll have any issues. I’ll be back tomorrow evening, before dinner.”

“Don’t bother Mr. Rochester this evening,” Peggy snapped as she began to descend the stairs. I squeezed my fists against her biting tone. I’d been in this castle for less than two hours and already I hated the woman.