Ten minutes later, I slipped into the damp, herb-scented pantry. Thomas was already there, pretending to organize vials on a dusty shelf, his small back ramrod straight.
"Clear?" I whispered, closing the door softly behind me.
"Clear," he confirmed, not turning around. "Mother is tending to Gideon's 'fragile nerves'. Father is... indisposed. Your mother is in the study with the ledgers."
"Good," I said, leaning against the cool stone wall. "Did you have any trouble in Oakhaven? Paying the debts?"
He finally turned, his brown eyes sharp and analytical. "No trouble. Old Tiberius practically wept with relief. Miller Grunn was suspicious but took the coin. I left enough of a surplus with the Guild master's contact – a discreet moneylender – to cover any other local embarrassments Theodore might have accrued. Total expenditure: 180 gold, 12 silver." He held out the now much lighter pouch. "Your change."
