The guard hated leaving his post more than almost anything in the world. He knew he was lucky to be there at all, with no name to back him, no wealth of his own to stand on. Somehow, through the grace of god, perhaps, he had managed to work his way up the ranks and the only job he had now was protecting the royal family, with his life if necessary.
So he hated leaving his post, but sometimes it was a necessity, like now as he caught a glimpse of the man to who he knew the wallet in his possession belonged.
"Viscount Sidmouth!" He called, trailing after the man, "I believe this is yours, my lord. I believe you may have dropped it at the last ball but I knew not where to find you."