Mortimer positively beams up to the blonde. "Of course, Miss Mercer. He has been expecting you." And, if I were you, Miss Mercer, I would run fast and far as soon as I possibly could, would have been Mortimer's thought to the bouncy woman, were he not attached to the idea of keeping his head. Instead, his beaming smile only faded a touch noting Taneth's rather diminished demeanor and feeling he knew why it was occurring.

Leaning forward, pressing one of the intercom buttons, which, of course, was ridiculous considering the minute any being got within a hundred yards of the Dewey, Cheetham and Howe offices the senior partners knew exactly who and what, Mortimer schooled his voice. "Lord Dewey, sir, sorry for the interruption. Miss Mercer is here to see you on a business matter. Shall I send her in" Yes, sir. Of course, sir," a tiny bead of sweat breaking along Mortimer's upper lip which he quickly dabbed away as he clicked off the inter-office system.

Dewey, of course, had noted Taneth's arrival and her less than usual energetic deportment. Considering for the twenty-second time to take Mortimer's flesh bag and have it brought down to R and D, one hand smoothed over the dark brown suit as he stands from his desk, the Italian silk fading to rich gunmetal blue, accented by a tie matching perfectly Taneth's dress and knotted high as always on the starched, pristine white collar of his shirt.

Warm brown eyes appear to smile, though his lips under that thick mustache tick at their corners a minute as he steps from his office, down the hall and to the reception lobby. Mortimer was given the full benefit of a baleful glare in passing before he turned to beam over Taneth, both hands held out to grasp one of hers in greeting, should she so allow the touch. Oh, and the Right Lord Chargym En"ruhn Dewey, was so hoping she would.

"My dear, Taneth. You are looking more beautiful and refreshing every time I see you. You positively light up this office with your glow," his smile jovial, that rich baritone a grandfatherly intimacy as he steps closer, leaning his head nearer to hers. "I do hope this is about the you-know-what for you-know-who. I am enormously excited you have accepted charge of this special project for me, my dear. I could not think of anyone more perfect for this most extraordinary undertaking. Tell me, do you have news?" One hand gestures behind him, his smile kindly. "Shall we adjourn to my office, dear Taneth' Would you enjoy some refreshments while we discuss business??

Dewey quirks a dark brow at the normally bouncy blonde's subdued demeanor, the questions swimming for all to see in those grey-blue eyes, the hesitation to take his hand. Letting his hands fall to his sides, he watches her turn for his office and opts to fall in step with her at her side.

"Forgive me for mentioning it, my dear Taneth, but you seem upset about something. I do so hope that you will allow me to help you with anything that might be wrong. And, please, if I have done something to cause this cloud to darken your skies, you have but to tell me. Be as honest and brutal as you must, dear Taneth, I assure you I can take it and would love nothing more than to rectify any such problem that has arisen." Dewey pushes open the door to his office, a contrite look on his face, head bowing, allowing her entrance ahead of him.

Closing the door gently behind them, head turned from her, warm brown eyes flare red momentarily before he is back to his charming mien, facing her once more and moving into the room. "Please, do have a seat, Taneth. Make yourself comfortable and let me know what is on your mind, what I can do for you."

She did seem delicate, almost fragile, yet Dewey was not convinced this was the case with dear Taneth. Besides the dark surge of energy felt, one that appeared to be a new manifestation on the bouncy blonde's part, Chargym had decided long ago that whatever Taneth was, it was not what she showed to the world at large, by either personal design or some other reason.

No matter what the case, he had also decided long ago that dealing with her required a soft and caring hand, in order to direct her towards the paths he desired she take. "Tsk. Oh, my dear Taneth. Yes, yes, I know too well the way Howe comes off to others around him; would that you would take my apology for the man's personality failings. I have tried through the many, many years he and I have known one another to steer him to a better way of dealing with his fellow being, but I am afraid the man is as he is, irascible."

Moving to lean against his desk next to her, he turns to face her fully. That kindly, grandfatherly smile in place, those dark brown eyes warm and hinting at indulgence, though an indulgence of the one he speaks on not the one to whom he is speaking. "I have known Screwham for longer than either of us cares to admit, Taneth. Even as a lad in school he was a rather hotheaded, petulant child. As he aged, the petulance turned grumpy and snappish. Mister Howe is short-tempered and, at times, can come off with the penchant for seeming entitlement. Blame it on his raising, dear Taneth; do not blame the man himself. For all he has his shortcomings, so does everyone."

Sliding closer over the wood, Dewey hesitantly lays a hand to the blonde's shoulder, his smile turning tender with understanding. "I know you miss your friends. I right understand this. However, I assure you that Mister Howe has not taken Mister Momus or Guthorm from you. I promise you, I have heard of Mister Momus's disappearance and I, personally, will oversee his finding." His fingers slip lightly down her arm and rest atop hers that are continually smoothing the fabric of her dress. "I will see him back to you, dear Taneth. I promise you that. And, Guthorm, I promise he will be in touch with you soon. Mister Howe has done nothing to him; again I assure you this personally."

A gentle squeeze to her hand, a taste of that energy she thrums with and then he pats it softly, leaning his palm to the desk and meeting those grey-blue eyes with sincerity. "Trust me, Taneth, I will see to all you have asked. I will even try to get Screwham to see the error of his ways once again. I cannot promise that, though, as I have tried for years on end. At times it has seemed like eons." His short laughter twinkles light in the depths of dark brown eyes. "I am sure you can well imagine having to live and work with a man such as he can seem like long times, indeed. But, do not be so harsh on him, dear Taneth. Really, he, as well as any of us here at DCH, is working for the good of one and all. That includes seeing that Mister Momus and Guthorm retain contact with those with whom they are close. Meaning, of course, you."

Something about the energy Taneth is roiling with seems off, different. Dewey is curious, but this is not the time to press such a conversation. Moving for the wet bar behind his desk, he pours a chilled glass of water, holding it out for her. "Would you care for some water, Taneth' Is there anything else you would like to discuss while you and I have the time" Anything else besides what you have spoken on bothering you with which I might be able to help" You know you have but to ask, dear. My talents lie in many fields.?

Dewey caught the soft murmur and only widened his eyes slightly with curiosity before continuing. The planes of energy the blonde ran rampant through since she had been in his presence made him ravenous. Still, it was quite possible a change in tactics was in order; she seemed put off by his words meant to comfort.

Such subterfuge he and the senior partners indulged in was, at times, amusing, and, at times, quite inconvenient. If DCH could only acquire hold over the nexual energy such trivialities, such insignificance would be dealt with and out of the way so they might pursue their end goal. For now, these were necessary.

Taneth's words trail off and as she looks to practically collapse upon his office floor Dewey sets the water to his desk, stepping quickly to her side. "Please, Taneth, sit. You look positively dead on your feet, child." His tone held just the right amount of concern, the proper quantity of familial distress.

Easing her gently to lean against the edge of the desk, he keeps a steadying hand to her elbow while reaching to pull over one of the large wingbacks situated in front of it. "Here, let me help you." Assisting her to sit, his face looks grave, eyes cast downward as he crouches before her seated form. When he lifts his head dark brown eyes are over bright and his voice possesses a rough, strained quality as if he might be holding back heavy emotion.

"I am so very sorry. Can you ever forgive me, Miss Mercer" I never wished for you to come to harm in any manner, not even emotionally. I" How can I?" His hand rises to cover his mouth and once more his gaze finds the floor, this time in contemplation. Index finger and thumb press in and slowly stretch atop his thick moustache. Clearing his throat brusquely, he appears to regain some of his composure with a bit of difficulty.

Another clear of his throat and his hand drops giving a single soft pat to Taneth's knee as he gains his feet. Turning his back on her briefly, head bowed, hands hooked to suspenders beneath the Italian designed suit coat, he steps to the desk again and then turns about to face her, leaning there.

"Howe, yes." What he is attempting to say seems to cause the Right Lord some considerable anguish. Moving to the chair opposite Taneth, he pulls it closer to hers and takes a seat, leaning forward with elbows upon his thighs. "Please believe me, Taneth, I wish I knew what I could say to you. I have" Well, I have had some concerns about Mister Howe lately, as well. There have been" signs."

A hand gestures through the air between them as if he is searching for the right words. "Signs of? strangeness. As if he is not the same irascible windbag I have known all these long years. It is as if he is a different person. As if he is" possessed. Not possessed by another entity, mind you. Well that I know such things can exist. No, this is" this is something different. Oh, Miss Mercer."

Hand up, he covers his face, head shaking back and forth. "Please understand how hard this is for me to reveal this to you, to speak against my?" The words stick in his throat and he clears it again before looking back to her, moisture evident in the dark brown gaze. "Against my friend. You see, it is why I had you report directly to me for the Ball project. Why I have kept close eye on you since you agreed to work for us. I was trying to keep you away from Mister Howe because I am not sure what is happening. Please?" His hand reaches out to touch upon her knee once more momentarily, his expression imploring. "Please, you must tell me all you have learned or heard about Mister Howe and his dealings, even if it is just rumor. There are things I know, but there is plenty I do not and if I am to?"

This time he buries his face to that hand, inhaling deeply three times, his breath shaking as his body seems to tremble somewhat. Clenching his fist and letting it rest to his brow for a second, middle finger and thumb pull in from the outer corners of his closed eyes to the inner, massaging the bridge of his nose before his composure is back and he lets his hand drop slowly to his leg. "I must know everything if I am to save my friend, Taneth. Will you not help me save him?"