A Friend in Need

Lupin moved to the door and quietly turned the key in the lock. A small click was heard, and the door swung open, to find Uncle Mortimor moving quickly into the room, almost running in to her. She stepped aside in time, and he brushed past her. "Really, madame, disappearing without so much as a word!" he said loudly, his eyes oddly serious and almost sad. He stepped to the door and shut it - at the very end closing it with a precise slam.
Lupin watched him silently, and then sighing, she went to the fireplace and rested her hand on the mantle with a sigh. A quiet peace seemed to emanate from it. "I suppose you and your friend have hatched a plan," she said with a small question in her voice.
Uncle Mortimor's eyebrows came together a little, but he said nothing. "Yes, my dear," he replied simply and a little quietly.
His expression was calm, but his eyes were sharper than usual, and very solemn when they looked at her. He sat neatly down on the settee. "My friend, the viscount, after hearing our story," Lupin looked up at him, her eyes snapping, but he continued to study his nails, unaware of her sudden change in mood. "has recommended that we make an - offensive attack."
"You told him our story?" Lupin asked, her voice soft and contained, her eyes cold and dark.
"Yes."
"You must trust him; you have just placed our entire venture in his hands."
Uncle Mortimor looked at her, his eyes suddenly flat and cold. His voice was nearly expressionless and very distant as he replied, "Viscount Maximilien is a good friend, and though I do not trust him entirely - I know that with this - difficult situation - he will be as silent as the grave."
Lupin stared straightly at Uncle Mortimor, and realized he was right. She could trust herself to him and his friend - for the time being.