Marguerite was startled when Emma had entered and woken her up. She really didn't expect to sleep at all, but had managed to doze off before being forced up to get ready for the theatre. She told Emma not to worry about Sir Percy and that she herself would wake him.
Marguerite made her way downstairs to the card room where she had left Percy. As she entered, the room was dark and she could hear Percy's peaceful breathing. It seemed so serene she wasn't sure she wanted to break it.
Carefully, remembering the last rude awakening she was in his presence for, she laid one hand gently on his arm, giving a slight shake as she kissed his forehead again to wake him.
Finding deep sleep no matter where he lay, Blakeney did not even stir as the soft footsteps of his wife approached. He did not feel the kiss she placed upon his forehead, as in his whole life, he was never woken in such a kind and gentle manner. His arm shook however, and in his dreams of rescuing those from France, he grumbled and turned the other way, so his back was to her.
"Not yet Andrew...." he murmured in his sleep. "We don't have to sneak out for another hour yet...."
Marguerite couldn't help but to giggle as Percy turned to keep from being woken up. With him thinking she was Andrew, she couldn't help but to giggle and give a little surprise. She bent over and slid her face down between his and the back of the couch and began to press her lips over his, offering a passionate kiss that the two hadn't shared since the night of the ball.
Whatever dream he might have been having, the thoughts of Andrew quickly disappeared. He felt soft and moist lips press into his and he gave a soft moan. Still sleeping, without realizing it, he wrapped his arms up and around the warm body and began to return the kissing. Long. Hard. Deep.
Warming shivers shot through her body as Percy kissed her back with equal emotion and movement, it was almost as if it was the first time their had shared such a moment. She felt his arms wrap around her and as they did,
she lowered her own body to press against his. Marguerite continued to let her lips and tongue explore his as she ran her hands over his arms and up to cradle his face and caress his neck.
His senses were quickly awaking, however being that he was just in a dream, he refused to open his eyes and accept that fact that reality would soon seize him. Feeling the warm body close in on him, his mind switched over that he must still be on his honeymoon, and he pulled her body in
tightly to him as he rolled onto his back once more.
Marguerite was overjoyed at this sudden affection. Perhaps things really were getting better for the two of them she thought in the back of her mind, but in the meantime there were other things to think about, mainly Percy's sweet kisses. She let a soft moan escape from her lips as Percy pulled her body tighter against his on the couch.
Turning his head for a better angle, Blakeney grabbed with one hand the back of her hair and pressed it into him hard. His mouth was deeply trying to melt and join her own, accepting her exploration and doing his own as
well. He wrapped his leg up and around hers, pulling her midsection up to him. The mind slowly was accepting that this was no longer a dream and he could not figure out why there were do many damn blankets in his way. His free hand tried to reach and squeeze her side, but too much material stopped him. If this was his honeymoon, there should be nothing but the warm feeling of her exposed skin against his.
Marguerite pulled her lips from his for a moment, only brief enough to let them glide over his jaw and neck and back up to his lips. She brought her hands down and ran them along the side of his torso, sliding them under his fine coat to be that bit closer to his skin. Slowly, she let her body
lift ever so slightly off his to let her fingers wander over the buttons of his vest.
When her lips parted from his, Blakeney gave almost an angry protesting groan. Keeping his eyes clamped shut, he wanted only one thing at the moment and refused to be told otherwise. Soon, Maeve made her way back to his lips and to let her know he didn't like her absence, he pressed her
lips hard into his and did not let her go.
Marguerite could feel his protest as she rejoined her lips to his. She could feel it as he moved his hand along the back of her head which kept her from attempting to remove her lips from his again.
If was the silent conversation two lovers have with one another. No words. Just actions. He felt her hand moving around his body, but he didn't directly feel her soft touch. What was the problem with all these demmed blankets in his way?!
Soon enough, her fingers danced down his torso, and he could feel
clothing. His vest. She was playing with the buttons on his vest. Why was he wearing a vest? This was no honeymoon. Where the hell was he? Slowly, still kissing her hard and deep, the Baronet began to open his eyes.
She played with his buttons, and he didn't protest. She undid the top few and ran her hand over his chest. Through his soft shirt she could fell the muscles of his chest as his body rose and sank rapidly with his quick breath. She let yet another soft moan escape her lips as she felt herself
needed to catch her own breather but not willing to stop him to do so.
His eyes slowly were becoming adjusted to his surroundings. As he glanced around in the darkness, he continued to kiss Maeve, feeling her fingers ruffle around on top of his silk blouse. It felt so good, he wanted more.
Slowly though, the darkness gave way to shapes. Shapes gave way to materalistic things. A small bust of a Greek head looked over at him. A candle softly flickered past the card room in the hallway beyond his feet. He could make out the card tables and the bookshelves and the jade animals he nearly broke as a child. Sounds from the kitchen began to dully fill his ears, accompanied by the sounds of voices from the staff.
Finally, confused as all hell, his eyes adjusted up to what was attached to his lips. Marguerite. At the same time, his thoughts slammed into some make believe wall. He blinked quickly a few times and his heart raced. St. Cyr. The man in black. The conversation behind the door with the Vixen and Armand. He was kissing his wife in his own house!
Quickly, he leaned up and pried her off him. "Madame!" he gasped, now too fully awake for words. He leaned as far back into the sofa as he could, frazzled at his actions and frazzled that he was doing them in open view for all to see!
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to straighten himself, while at the same time, trying to comprehend what he was just doing and how it even became to be. He looked at Marguerite and saw the intense hurt look on her face. He shook his head lost. His face equally held a sorrow and mourning for what he was and had enjoyed.
"Forgive me" his voice squeaked in a whisper and he brought his hand to cover his eyes. He was shamed in many ways just now, and he did not know how to deal with his actions.
Marguerite was startled as Percy had seemingly finally come to all of his senses. Perhaps he thought what was happening was a dream and was startled to find her really there. He made her sit up before sinking again into the couch, leaving her sitting awkwardly on top of his legs. Marguerite smiled and leaned over her husband and stroked his hair, "There's nothing to forgive my love." she whispered as she bent down and pushed her lips over his before he could protest.
He felt himself sinking back into the cushions of the couch as she moved in to kiss him again. In the past, he would just take her lips and not offer anything back in return. Blakeney's heart was mourning in turmoil inside. He betrayed himself and gave a small amount of life to his lips
when she kissed him once more. Knowing it was wrong, he every so gently returned her affection.
Now, feeling more flabbergasted and wrong, he shifted himself so she sat on the couch instead of him. His mind was clearing and the Adam's apple in his throat jolted. The Baronet felt himself becoming weak as she pulled him into her web once more.
"We should get ready." He stood and straightened his cravat and quickly took to buttoning up his vest. He did not look at her, for he couldn't bring himself to do it.
Marguerite hopped off the coach and came around to face him as he fixed his clothes. In a playful manor, she toyed with the vest she had partial undone and his cravat but afterwards instead of stepping back she slide her arms under his coat and hugged him, "I suppose we should. I guess we
can continue these types of activities until after we return." she said, giggling a little and offering a coy smile.
His reaction to her was non the pleasant. More of a scared look as the habitual worry lines creased across his forehead. He lightly hugged her back, the taste of her lips still in his mouth. The sweet perfume intoxicating him. Giving her a little squeeze and stepping out of her grasp, his hands found the cravat and fixed it once more.
Turning, he straightened his coat and patted down the pant wrinkles he caused when dreaming on the couch. Oh to be asleep again! Moving around the backside of the couch, he gave a yawn and stretched. "Well, that was a nice nap. Let us be off, Mmm?" He gave her one quick little glance, then headed out into the hallway.
Marguerite quickly followed Percy out into the hallway, "There's still a little time before we must go. I wasn't sure if you had wanted to get a little food or change before going." she said as she caught up to him and took his arm.
Sir Percy smiled at her tiredly. "I meant go off to get ready Madame." He smiled and patted her hand that held onto his arm. Slowly, he was waking up and becoming himself again. "I don't know about you, but I need a bit
of a bath." And he did. If he had her perfume scent on him all night, he feared he would not be able to focus on speaking with Helene. As it was, his mind was trapped back in that lovely state of pretend.
Only the pretending he did now was as a grown man. Husband to his Maeve as they would awaken in the morning, lying together in bed on their honeymoon. With nothing but sheets covering them. Perhaps it was more of a nightmare to think about now, as it hurt him so.
"Of course Percy, but not for too long, after all, we would not want to be late." As they reached the door to his chambers, Marguerite slipped a quick kiss on his cheek and allowed him to enter before returning to her own room to change.
Most of her clothes were still gone and her trunks not brought up from storage yet, although feeling better about Percy, marguerite wanted to wear one of the dresses he had arranged for her. Only one dress suitable for the theatre remained in her wardrobe and it had already been pulled out for her by Emma. It was a dark green silk dress, simple yet elegant and Marguerite decided, again for Percy, to wear the emerald and ruby
necklace that he had bought for her with it.