Chapter 2: I Won’t Sign a Contract I Can’t Read

The map Rowan unfolded showed a bridge spanning the river and little squares clustered around the estate. Sara could make out the shape of the town, but not the names of the places that mattered. As her eyes followed the unfamiliar script, he broke off his explanation, set down his pen, and pointed to a district beside the river.

“The washhouse is here. You can learn the names later. I’ll find someone who can show you around, too.”

She had just begun to feel relieved when a knock came at the door. A young man carrying documents entered with a woman in a lustrous dark-blue dress. The woman looked at the chairs that had been moved in front of the fireplace, then at the bouquet left behind on the desk.

“I was told you were discussing business, but you look quite comfortable. Have you given up using that desk?”

“There’s a draft. Come and sit here, too.”

As he offered them chairs, Rowan introduced his sister, Beatrice, who managed the household, and Mika Ross, an assistant in the accounts office. Beatrice’s gaze paused on Sara’s thin sleeves, but she sat without comment. Mika straightened his papers on the board he had brought.

“I’ll read out the terms of employment. The period is ten days, beginning tomorrow. The pay is one hundred copper coins, the same amount paid to someone assisting with the household accounts. Meals and lodging will be provided separately for the duration.”

Sara repeated the figures back to him. She still didn’t have a good grasp of prices here, but being able to work with food and a bed assured would take much of the worry out of tomorrow. She wanted to nod at once, only to hesitate at a phrase in the next passage.

“Excuse me. Could you read the part about being entrusted with ‘the inquiry and any trials necessary for it’ again?”

While Mika repeated the passage, Rowan readied a pen for her signature. As he began to offer it, Sara bowed her head, not yet ready to take it.

“Buying a little firewood as a sample would cost something quite different from ordering enough for the whole town. I’d like to establish what I can decide, including how much I’m allowed to spend. And if the inquiry shows that we can’t buy as cheaply as we’d hoped, would I still receive this pay?”

“Of course. I’m asking you to investigate. As for purchases... Yes, let’s have you submit an estimate for approval each time.”

“Then could you put those two points in writing as well?”

As soon as she said it, she worried that she sounded as though she didn’t trust the duke’s word. The man had offered her a job; he might decide she was more trouble than she was worth. Yet she could all too easily picture herself smiling, accepting the pen, and regretting it later.

Rowan drew the pen back and asked Mika to add the provisions. Before Sara could begin to apologize, Beatrice placed a finger on the margin.

“Let’s also settle what happens if the work isn’t finished in ten days. We won’t keep her working for the same payment merely because we mean to give her another task. If the period is extended, the terms must be agreed again. Agreed, Rowan?”

“You make it sound as though that was my idea.”

“I came to settle it before you had the chance.”

Mika pressed his lips together as he wrote, and Sara lowered her eyes to the paper. If she stared at the letters she couldn’t read, perhaps no one would notice that she was trying not to laugh.

They confirmed that she could enter into contracts only within the limits approved for her, and that before taking charge of residents’ money, she would need an approved arrangement for managing it. She would have no authority to order merchants or residents to answer her questions. At that, Mika lifted his pen, looking a little uncertain.

“Still, if you say you’ve come from the duke’s household, merchants should be more willing to discuss prices. They might even offer terms they wouldn’t normally disclose.”

“I’d be grateful to hear their terms. But if they offer a price they can’t afford because they’re afraid of His Grace, I don’t see how that could continue once I’m gone. If possible, I’d like to learn the rules the townspeople have to follow when they buy things themselves.”

Rowan added a log to the fire before returning to his chair.

“You’re right. This can’t be treated like buying for me. The market has its own rules. Some kinds of work can’t be started on my permission alone, so I’ll have Mika look into the regulations you’ll need.”

This time Beatrice read the amended terms from the beginning. Sara asked questions along the way and only took the pen once she had heard everything. She slowly wrote the name she had practiced, making the last character oddly large. Mika waited for the ink to dry, a kindness she appreciated more than the handsome desk.

Just as Sara received her copy, Beatrice glanced out of the window and rose.

“Good timing. Ines from the washhouse has come with the laundry. She’ll know more about the town than I do. Shall we ask whether she has time to talk?”

In the passage to the back entrance, Sara’s warmed fingertips began to grow cold again. Yet the contract in her arms seemed heavier than before. The realization that she had a job at last alternated with the pressure of knowing that, from tomorrow, she would have to live up to their expectations.

Ines had set a basket of freshly washed linen on a stand and was waiting for it to be received. She was the woman who had been gathering branches that morning. Her eyebrows rose when she noticed Sara, but as Beatrice introduced them, she wiped on her apron the hand she had been about to offer.

“So you’re the one looking into buying firewood? I’ll tell you now: if it’s shopping for the duke, I’m not interested. I’ve a fire of my own to get going when I get home.”

Before she could begin to explain the job she had finally been given, Sara adjusted the contract in her arms. The first thing this woman needed to hear was who, exactly, Sara was trying to buy for.