a burst of letters as if they were being fired from a Gatling gun. After a brief pause the letterbox stretched and a large package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string tumbled through.
“Something from the Emporium for you, and these first two letters are for you too,” he said, handing them to her. “The rest are for me.”
“Oh, Mother said a gift was going to come straight from the Emporium.” Cathy was relieved to see the Shopkeeper’s seal on the back. She didn’t recognise the calligraphy on the first letter, but then the scent of lavender floated up from the fine paper. She flipped it over, noting that her uncle’s coat of arms had been pressed into the wax seal at a forty-five degree angle. It was the same code her mother still used, even now she was a Papaver. Open only when alone. “I suppose the time for correspondence has officially begun,” she said as he gathered up the dozens of letters. “Good grief, who are they all from?”
“It seems our arrival in Londinium has already done the rounds in the gossip circles. Impressive. I was expecting at least a week to settle in before all the invitations arrived.”
“I suppose it’s better than being snubbed, seeing as you care about that sort of thing.”
“They’re all desperate to know my agenda, no doubt. Now that’s interesting.” He inspected a seal. “Looks like this one is from a Tulipa. I’ll be in my study should you need me.”
Cathy opted to sit on the bed to read her letters. She had no idea what the time was, but her solitude would be short-lived and she didn’t want to waste time trying to find her way to the room that had been allocated to her. At first she was delighted that she’d have her own space with a desk and bookshelves to be filled, but when she realised it was provided for her to run the household affairs the delight had faded.
She opened her uncle’s letter first. It contained a second smaller envelope with “Catherine” written on it, which she held as she read the single sheet of sweet-smelling paper.
Darling Catherine,
I do hope you are positively delighted with your new home, for if you are reading this, you are surely chez toi. Has your delightful new husband told you Lancaster House was my wedding gift to you both? I hope its Bath stone makes you feel at home and that you settle quickly. I feel it was a suitable means of expressing my gratitude to you both for the parts you played in securing my return to Society. Fancy being rescued by the ugliest man in Albion, will wonders never cease?
In all seriousness, though, my darling one (I fear I have under-appreciated you over the years, permit me to correct that) I do know how brave you were to speak to an Arbiter and deal with the Sorcerer. From what he has told me, your new husband has a talent for taking credit where it is not entirely due, but I won’t tell a soul, I promise.
It seems you have also impressed the Sorcerer, for he begged me to contact you and send the enclosed letter. I have not peeped, for to do so with a letter from a Sorcerer would be unwise indeed, so I cannot warn you or praise you for its contents. May it suffice to say the Sorcerer did seem to believe it was of the utmost importance that you receive it promptly and whilst alone.
I find it all rather thrilling, and trust that should I have occasion to visit Londinium, you will regale me with tales of intrigue and adventure, as long as it won’t damage your standing in society.
Needless to say, sweet niece, should you or your husband wish to return to Aquae Sulis at any time you will stay as my honoured guests.
With the greatest affection and eternal gratitude,
Your loving Uncle Lavandula
P.S. I’ve heard tell that some of the Rosas are evading capture by the Agency. Should that be true, you must take care, as I believe your husband is seen as the architect of their downfall (they never were fair nor reasonable).
P.P.S. Do not travel the Londinium Nether roads alone, under any circumstances.
P.P.P.S. Lemon is strictly out of fashion amongst the Londinium Ton, however I understand that honeyed shades of gold are most popular amongst the fashionable elite. Avoid ringlets and square-toed shoes. Ta ta!
It was the first letter Cathy had ever received