His gaze scanned the throng until it lit upon the man he was looking for. Excellent. He was here. Making his way through the crowded room, he sat down at the table next to his longtime friend, Martin Saunderson. Martin looked up from his cards and gave Franklin a nod, but he didn’t focus on Franklin for long. Leaning back in his chair, his long legs extended in front of him, he kept his gaze on the cards in his hand. A plump barmaid came by and Franklin ordered an ale, waiting for Martin to finish his game. He was in high spirits, thinking of the plan that had come to him shortly after reading the letter. It had been a stroke of luck, that letter, and once he’d explained it to Amelia she had come around and seen it too. Martin glanced over at Franklin and frowned. His friend’s eyes were alight with excitement and he was tapping the table in an impatient way that was distracting. The game was going well and he didn’t need the interruption tonight.
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