Page 45 of Down Comes the Night

“No, I can find what I need from here.” Wren carried her candle to the shelves, letting the light spill over the gilt letters on the books’ spines.

“Did you truly need to be shown to the library?” Wren turned to see Hannah standing in the doorway, her arms crossed.

“I did,” Wren said, flustered. “Well, I suppose I wasn’t exactly lost. But Iwason my way here before I got sidetracked. I… heard a noise.”

“A noise?” Hannah lifted her eyebrows. “We have our fair share of them here.”

“It sounded like someone was hurt.”

“I know the one, milady,” Hannah said after a moment, her expression unreadable. “Don’t be afraid. There are always sounds in the house; it’s old. When I was a child, my mother told me ghostsroamed the corridors at night, hungry for little girls out past their bedtime. But they’re nothing but stories, I promise.”

“That’s… reassuring,” Wren said, still not entirely convinced. “Thank you.”

Hannah nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Don’t thank me. Consider this my official welcome. And an apology for avoiding you since you arrived.”

“Avoiding me? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh. I see.” Hannah flushed. “That’s good to hear. I’m still adjusting. Before… everything happened, I was third chambermaid. I never had to deal much with guests.”

The sadness in her voice sobered Wren. “I’m sorry for taking you away from your evening tea. Consider us even.”

“It’s fine, really. I don’t mind the company.”

“Me neither.” Wren offered her a smile. As much as she longed for a friend in this miserable place, she didn’t exactly have time to make idle conversation. Hannah, however, presented her with an invaluable opportunity. A chance to talk to someone who knew just as much about this place as her employer. “So, you grew up here? What was that like?”

“Good enough. There were always lots of other children in the servants’ quarters. Sometimes even Lord Lowry and his brother played with us.”

Wren smiled, pausing to ease a few botany textbooks from the shelf. “Really?”

“Of course. There weren’t exactly other noble children to play with.” Hannah lowered herself into an armchair. “Lord Lowry liked attention, as you can imagine, and his brother preferred keeping to himself.”

“If you don’t mind my saying, you two don’t seem terribly close for childhood playmates.”

When Hannah went silent, Wren turned over her shoulder to find her expression darkened. Perhaps she’d pushed too far.

“Forgive me! I’m sometimes too nosy for my own good.”

“No, no…” Hannah pulled her messy braid over her shoulder, twisting the end of it through her fingers. “There was no dramatic falling out. I didn’t care for him much as a child, is all. He was a charming boy when he wanted to be, but his father indulged him too much. All it took was a smile, and the man was good as clay in his hands. It spoiled him—made him cruel sometimes for it.”

“I can hardly imagine him as cruel,” Wren said carefully.

“Men change.” She laughed, an almost hollow sound. “It’s funny now, really. I remember… I was perhaps six, and Lord Lowry eleven. Nelly—the cook—found a stray cat in town one day. And when she kittened, Nelly let me choose one to call mine, a black cat with white socks. I named her Midnight. When the young lords caught wind of it, they came to see the litter. Of course, Lord Lowry wanted Midnight for himself.”

“What did you do?”

“I told him to piss off, and he looked me in the eye and told me…” Hannah trailed off, smiling sheepishly. “I suppose it’s actually not that funny of a story.”

“No, it’s alright,” Wren said. “Please go on.”

“He told me if I didn’t give her up, he’d cut her open. See what was inside, like his father did in his experiments.”

“But… that’sawful.”

Hannah waved her off. “Nelly made a show of scolding me in front of him. Later, she told me it was only a name—I could still play with her all I liked. So I let him have her.”

“What happened to her?”

She cringed. “A few months later, I found her on the edge of the woods.”