“I’m just waiting for Magnus to come back,” I said, forcing a smile. “He said I could sit here.”

The woman did not smile. “I’m sorry,” she said crisply. “We won’t be needing you.”

After a moment’s stunned silence, I protested. “Magnus implied that I could have the job if I was able to do it. I should at least be given a trial—”

She took a step back, as if to allow me to pass her on my way out.“We won’t be needing you. It was a mistake.”

I stared at her. The promise of work, of funds, of safety from Cillian, the hope of a refuge for a whole summer, all dashed because of a mistake? “But Magnus came down to the settlement asking for someone who could read and write Latin,” I said, feeling my face flush. “I can do that. I should be given a chance to prove myself, my lady.” I considered telling her the truth and casting myself on her mercy. Somehow I didn’t think that would get me very far. “Even if there has been a mistake, I’m certain I can make myself useful here.” After all, Magnus had said they needed a boy for the farm and a woman for the house. If I could be safe, I’d be prepared to scrub floors all summer, even with this chilly woman giving the orders. “Please, my lady,” I said. Her intense, wide-eyed scrutiny unnerved me.“At least let me speak to Magnus again.”

“There is no need to speak to anyone else,” she said. After a moment she added, “You are disappointed. Understand that it is best that you do not stay.”

Tears stung my eyes. I was reaching for my belongings when Magnus strode in the back door and set a quill, an ink pot and a scrap of parchment on the table. “Write something,” he ordered. “Straightaway, he said, to prove you can work quickly as well as accurately. If it’s good enough, he’ll consider giving you a few days’ trial.”

I glanced over at the woman. Her lips were pressed tightly together; a little line had appeared between her brows. “I was told I wasn’t required,” I said quietly.