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To Lord Chatham, by hand, afternoon of the 8th


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Grace had been clever and so it had not taken over-long before she had what she wanted. She had quickly scribbled just one sentence  ....

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that which was spoken of is indeed being sought

It was not the best of parchment but good enough for her use. She sanded it quickly then sealed it with the small stick of red wax she had taken. It would be delivered by one of the many Palace runners.

That she would have liked to deliver it herself to his Residence was her wish but she knew better. He would call for her she was sure and until then she would be patient.

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  • 3 weeks later...

It was early evening before Charles was finally free and able to attend to his correspondence. He broke the seal, yawning into his fist, and quickly scanned the note. Short, to the point and unsigned, but he knew from who it had come.

"Good girl," he murmured approvingly, lips curving into a smile. He seized his pen and scribbled a quick reply.

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That was quick work, and I am well pleased. We should discuss matters further. Shall we say Tuesday evening, at Piccadilly? I will plan for that, unless I hear word to the contrary from you.

He blew the excess sand away and sealed it with blue wax. He could send one of the servants up to the Palace with it, he supposed, or... The Queen was hosting some sort of Bible reading event wasn't she? It would doubtless be very boring, but it could do no harm to at least put in an appearance.

And if I am going to the Palace anyway, I might as well carry the note and pass it off to a runner there.

He would have nodded, but found himself yawning again. Coffee and coca leaves first then.

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