Armand Du Teillay

Edwin Stewart walked up the hill into the start of a cool evening breeze leaving the airless sweltering fetiod docks below. The wind had been fair, and the frigate had made good time. However the wind had died early this afternoon and wouldn't fill in till the sea breeze came. So he took the gig and pulled to the windline and ran on in onn the last of the tide.

After a month away he was looking forward to laying in a bed that did not move on its own accord. Lay, not sleep, as he and Renée rarely slept we he returned from sea. As the ship was in the offing, no runner would have come with the making of her number, so Edwin looked forward to not having to sit a dinner party when he returned.

He nodded to the suprized too casual idlers on either side of the gate and entered into the house's shaded courtyard. His seaboots chruched on the bright white coral gravel that bedded the path around the bubbling fountian. The broad coquina steps led up to the iron studded dark red ipe doors that he opened and entered.

Laurent stepped forward to take his hat, then slyly cut his eyes to the other table in the vestuble. Another hat and gloves were there. Edwin took this in and cocking his head and rasing an eyebrow looked back at Laurent. A second cut of the eyes to the salon doors, which were closed. Edwin quietly crossed to the salon and listened.

"Il y a eu longtemps pour moi et vous êtes si grand. Nous me permettre de faire plus confortable. " Renée finished that with a laugh and she was echoed by another...male... laugh.

With his left hand Edwin loosened the rapier in its scabbard while his right half-cocked the Doone made pistol hidden in his sash. Renée would not have been expecting him. Drawing a breath and steeling his courage for he knew not what, he threw open the salon doors.

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OOC

Who is Du Teillay, and what does he have to do with Stewart?

More to follow...