You sip from your tea and smile before ansewring the question from your
friend. The whole Guild is not gathered here today, only Lady Hastings'
closer friends coming together for a pleasant afternoon in which
"business" is intended to have little to no part. But the best-laid
plans of mice and men....
A servingmaid enters the garden and interuppts a dialogue between Lady
hastings and her husband, curtseying and handing the latter a small
note. Even from here the familiar red seal is visible and the words "By
special courier, m'lord" are born on the breeze. Confused and uncertain,
you set your cup down, shooting an inquisitive glance at your oblivious
companion, as Lord Hastings unfolds the note and the smile slowly fades
from his face. He hands the letter to his wife, who glances over it
quickly with a look of growing bewilderment.
Lord Hastings makes his way inside, and Lady Eliza turns and meets your
eyes. You flush, embarrassed at being caught staring, but she only tilts
her head toward the house and rises, evidently wishing you to follow
her. A quick glance around reveals no one besides you seems to have
noticed this singular drama, and not entirely free from apprehension you
follow your leader into the home and thence to a small study.
No sooner has the door closed behind you then she turns, watching you
with mingled concern and a bit of suspicion as she thrusts the note
toward you.
"Do you understand this, my friend?" she queries softly.
Hesitantly, you
take and unfold the letter. The firm, obviously disguised handwriting is
known to every Guilder as Sir Percy Blakeney's.
"H,
You are needed in Calais. Come promptly. And bring your wife's
friend __________"
Your name is clearly written, and the signature--a small, star-shaped
red flower--is no less undeniable.