Dearest, we have arrived in Calais. I sit penning this from Armand’s room at the Port Royal Inn, where we hide. Armand’s younger brother, Guiraud, shares his chamber but he is currently on guard duty. Our departure from the Mesdames was sad for I grew to love their little manor house along with its two wonderful occupants. Gillet has promised we shall return one day. We departed under the cover of night, the half-moon tossing like a drunken ship on swirling, cloudy waves. Inferno, experienced in nocturnal flight, plodded on relentless but Ruby shied at every shifting shadow. Following the old tracks of charcoal burners, we travelled well into the following afternoon, avoiding the roads and looping through the woods. The journey was slow and tedious and by the time we finally stopped Gillet’s temper was frayed. The long hours in the saddle had given him plenty of time to think and I suspect, with Calais as our destination, his thoughts were of Edward.
