Alone at Blakeney Manor/The manor had candles still lit

Marguerite had grown bored with her all too often habit of exploring Blakeney Manor. Percy had once more left on some type of business for the evening and Armand was nowhere to be found, leading Marguerite to believe he had found his way into town to see Alexia again. She settled down restlessly in a sofa in one of the parlor rooms when Thomas had come in to inquire if she was in need anything. At first she shook her head no, but then an idea struck her. "Thomas," she said brightly, "would you mind joining me here in the parlor for a bit?"

Enter the eldest employee to Sir Percy, having been hired 40 years ago by Sir Algernon.

Thomas the butler was there when wife of Percy countered her husband upon first coming home into the Manor. He was not far when Lady Blakeney yelled at Candice and stormed up to her room. He had been in the back part of the kitchen when the out blast between Marguerite and the second more powerful man in England happened over tea.

Now she requested his presence. Thomas had been in this house for over 40 years. He was here before there was a Sir Percy. Before there was the current Lady Blakeney. He did not wish to stand before her and be the next target, but his job to serve came first. "I will Lady Blakeney. What is your pleasure?"

Marguerite sighed and gave a peaceful, half smile. "I just want to talk to you. Come, sit down and keep me company for a while." She said softly as she motioned to the many empty seats in the parlor.

He moved over as asked and sat down, looking at the very young wife of Sir Percy. Thomas, like the rest of the house save Frank, was oblivious to the activities of the Baronet. How the old man ever got this young attractive girl was anyone's guess. Of course, with enough money, anything was possible. Thomas sat down and looked at the lady of the Manor.

Marguerite's eyes dropped as she watched the expression on Thomas' face. "It's ok Thomas, I don't bite, really I don't. Although no doubt that most of the household staff must think I'm some sort of awful tyrant by now." she said sadly, reflecting back on the difficult few weeks she had spent at the manor.

The English are well known for their dry humor. Giving an expression is not something widely done and Thomas was no different from one butler to the next. He knew his responsibilities and carried them out without complaint. "No Lady Blakeney. I suppose not directly." He offered no smile, but sat there in his loyal kind manner.

Marguerite could only guess what he was eluding to, but decided to let the comment pass. She folded her fingers carefully in her lap and in a needy sort of tone asked him, "Thomas, would you tell me about Percy's parents?"

”What is it exactly you wish to know Lady Blakeney?"

"I want to know so much Thomas. Who were they, what kind of people were they, what was life like for Percy growing up, what kinds of parents they were. Percy speaks very little about his childhood, so much of that even seems forced and I so want to know what his life was like."

Sir Percy should be speaking about his own life, Thomas thought. Strange question for a wife to ask about her husband. Still, no harm in telling her about his parents.

"Sir Algernon and Lady Blakeney were very kind people to work for. I can not think of a moment I did not enjoy serving the Blakeney's in their home."

"Percy had spoke of his mother a few times but less about Sir Algernon. What sort of man was he?" she inquired, realizing Thomas would not be so willing to give information without being asked for it.

Thinking of his old friend, the butler's face grew a bit of a smile. Thomas was a well rounded out sort of fellow. His white hair had long before begun balding in the front and now made its way towards the back. His eyes were light blue, the kind that only lightens with age and his nose a regal robust feature on his old English face.

"Ooooh" His voice took on a soft and warm tone. "He was a good man Lady Blakeney." She reached to his tender heart under all that English Butler. He moved over and patted the top of her hand. "He loved the late Lady Blakeney like I have never seen an Englishman love another. It was always such a pleasure to see the two of them together! She was a spitting image of her own mother, one of the most sought after faces in England. And Sir Algernon captured her heart. They used to laugh and laugh all the time. Why I remember a time the house seemed to never tire of it."

Thomas's eyes took on that far off look as he delved into memory he had not thought about in well over 15 or 20 years. The kind smile on his face was directed at Lady Blakeney. The memory lane making him forget for a moment who he was talking too. So happy he became.

Marguerite smiled at the joy the memory seemed to bring to the older man, but she wondered. Percy had spoke of the difference between courtship and a proper marriage, but his parents she gathered didn't fit that mold. Of course, during the courtship Marguerite didn't think that Percy would fit such a mold either. "It sounds as if they were a lovely couple. Why is it then that Percy won't talk about them." she said, the last part mostly thinking out loud to herself.

The warm and happy smile that crossed his face vanished. In a curious way, he looked at the current Lady Blakeney. She was so different from the other dealings he had with her, or the staff. She seemed pleasant and her smile reminded him of the late Lady Blakeney. For this alone, he was inclined to be curious.

"Lady Blakeney, has Sir Percy never told you about his birth?"

Marguerite simply shook her head. "No, he's told me very little about his life as a child and his family. Is there something that happened when he was born?"

The old man nodded at Marguerite. "Everything changed here Lady Blakeney. During her pregnancy where she carried your husband, she became tired, but was still herself you see. She had one right oh time during the birth Milady. Sir Algernon, I had never seen him worried so. The baby was in her for too long, and it weakened her. Then the baby refused to come out. Lady Blakeney was in so much pain, no matter where you went in the house, you could hear her screams."

He looked at Marguerite and offered a saddened smile. Most women do not like to hear about the pain of child bearing, and he paused, wondering what she wished him to go with this.

Marguerite's mouth dropped as her face paled. Childbirth for a woman can be as much of a burden as it was a blessing, and it was not something she was sure she was looking forward to now that she was married, even though, especially now being an aristocrat, she was probably expected to produce a heir. "That's sounds so awful Thomas, but everything must have turned out alright didn't it? I mean, Percy was born, and he has mentioned his mother so she must have survived the ordeal." Marguerite said, wondering what had happened when Percy was born.

"If you would like to call it surviving Milady." Thomas brought up his hand and rubbed at his temples. The memory of it something he had not thought about in a long long time.

He took a deep breath and continued, "The baby finally came out, but near tore up everything inside I am told. Some sort of toxin was in the mother and the baby came out ill. He had been feeding off the toxin I am told. I do not understand the whole affair of woman and birthing, but rare as it is, it happens."

The late Lady Blakeney asked to hold her son, and they put him in her arms. She wept I was told. Wept until Sir Algernon was allowed in and then wept more. Everyone left the room after that, leaving the three of them together. I am told Sir Algernon broke into tears in front of everyone. It was why all the other birthing ladies left so quickly."

A redness overcame the old butler's eyes and he slowly shook his head. "It all went down from there."

Marguerite could feel her eyes beginning to water at the sad tale of the previous Lady Blakeney, she wanted to shut the idea of painful childbirth at of her mind, but she couldn't let the story end there. "What," she paused and swallowed hard, "what do you mean it all went down from there?"

The old gent saw the current Lady Blakeney become too saddened by the tale. "Is it too much to bear Milady?" He pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to her. "It is a rather sad truth."

Marguerite nodded and took the handkerchief. She wanted to hear the whole story, but was too moved to say anymore.

Watching her make use of the kerchief, Thomas heard her ask. "Are you sure you wish to hear more of it Milady? It does not get any better. The baby of course grew, but the health of the late Lady Blakeney failed and wilted. Until she was only a body like shell. The rest of her seemed to have died."

Marguerite took the handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "But what went wrong? Did the baby really do that much damage during the birth? And even if he did, she still had Sir Algernon and her family their to help her didn't she?"

Thomas gave a kind, but sad smile at the current Lady Blakeney. "I am told so Milady. Remember, I was not allowed in. Whatever poison that the baby had, it had been housed longer in his mother." His gaze fell in memory and he shook his head. "She used to have the most beautiful smile. Perfect teeth."

The old man found himself patting her arm in a kind manner. "Milady, God chooses to do certain things. Why he takes the life of another to end their suffering and let's others live on, only he knows. He decided that the baby should survive. He also decided so should Lady Blakeney. She stayed with us for a while. As the days grew on, she knew nothing of her son or her husband. Some days were better than others I suppose. Some days, why, she even remembered me."

Marguerite pulled her opposite hand over and squeezed Thomas' hand. She could hardly believe what he was saying, the Lady Blakeney's pregnancy was so difficult that not only was she so physically harmed her mind as well. Her voice shook and stuttered as she spoke to him again, "How old was Percy when Lady Blakeney died?"

"He was 13 Milady. They stayed here at home for the first two years after the boy was born. Lady Blakeney only worsened until she went days at time without saying a word or recognizing a soul. People in town talked. London society talked. Soon, everyone talked and gossiped and would stare at Sir Algernon when he alone would have to take the baby into town to seek out doctors and nurses.

"I swear it got to be too much for him. He hired a nanny and took himself, the boy and his wife on Sir Algernon's yacht. Did Sir Percy tell you this part?"

"Percy talked some about growing up on a boat, about traveling a lot when he was young, though he never said specifically why. He mentioned that his mother had been ill, but never any details, and I never imagined it would have been like this." Marguerite paused and for a moment remembered her own mother and how thankful she was for her, even though Marguerite could hardly remember her. "Was there nothing at all that could have been done for her?"

Thomas patted her arm again. "Bless you child." He said. He did not know why, but this young lady was reminding him of stories he had forgotten. It warmed his old heart to be speaking of Sir Algernon and the late Lady Blakeney again.

"At first, that first year, when she was still with us some, Sir Algernon hired in the best doctors in London, of Paris and even some from Spain. He tried every remedy offered to him. That poor woman suffered some of the worst smelling elixirs. I am thankful most of the time she was not aware of what was being forced into her mouth, or pumped into her veins for that matter. It was a terrible time Milady. I do wish to not share all the gruesome details."

Marguerite could only imagine what the poor woman had gone through, but she felt her stomach turn at the though. "Oh, that's so awful, but even with all that, with the medicines and the doctors and all, did any of it help?"

"No Milady. It did not. She never came back fully."

Marguerite sighed as a tear fell from her eye. "Percy was so young then, was he even aware of what was happening to his mother?"

Thomas saw the tear and gestured to the forgotten handkerchief in her hand. "You have a good heart Lady Blakeney. You had us fooled for a while there." He looked at her. He was old and in no fear of losing his job, so he spoke the truth to her that others might have been afraid to.

Marguerite used wiping her tear away as an excuse to hide her guilt. She had been awful sometimes in the presence of some of the staff and regretted it. She wiped her eye and listened as he continued.

She had proven herself compassionate and capable of being kind. If anything, this would test that compassion.

"He was a babe when it started Lady Blakeney. By the time she became lost to us, he was two. He had no idea. After that, I only know how they all acted when they come home. It was not often and not for very long."

"I too lost my mother when I was very young, younger then Percy when he lost his, but I can't imagine seeing her and not knowing her." Marguerite confessed to the sweet man. "How was it then, when the family came home?"

The old man smiled at her kindly. "Do you wish to tell me about your mother Milady? Sir Algernon Percy used to tell me I had a great ear for listening."

Marguerite paused for a moment, but she had listened to Thomas speak for a while, it was her turn to share. "My mother was quiet the lady." she began, "She and my father married after what most would probably consider a short courtship, although it was much longer then mine and Percy's. She worked in a shop when they first got married, until I was born about three years later, then she did seem work at home at night. She was always cheerful, her and my father both. Our tiny little house was always full of smiles and hugs and kisses. She was smart too. She and my father taught my brother and I how to read and do math at a young age. Most people don't think it's important for a girl to know such things, but she made sure I knew. She got sick just before I turned 11, and died not long after. She seemed to be in a lot of pain, but at least she went quickly." Marguerite paused and began to fidget with the handkerchief, "It destroyed my father when he passed away. He tried to put on a good show for myself and my brother, but it was no use, it was eating him up inside. He literally could not live without her, and he gave in a year later when I was twelve."

"How did you survive milady? Did you have family to take care of you?"

"Armand and I were shuffled around among friends of my family for a few years. No matter what we always had each other. I went to work shortly after my father died, earning a bit of money here and there to earn our keep. I began working at the theatre in Paris, running things back and forth like props, cleaning costumes and sweeping the seating areas and such. I used to watch during rehearsals, free acting lessons in a way. I got to watch some of the best actors and actresses in Paris while working at the Comedie Francis. After a few years, I tried acting for myself at another smaller theatre in Paris. It was at one of those theatres that Percy first saw me. I worked as an actress working my way up from playing small parts in tiny theatres to bigger parts and better companies until I was back at the Comedie Francis."

Thomas smiled hearing her tale. "It sounds like you have had quite a life my dear. Odd that your life was always full of hard work and I will guess you will find things much different here." He looked at her and his old eyes searched her face. He was really thinking, how odd it was that this woman worked so hard, yet her husband had not know a day's labor in his life.

"It was hard at times, but I loved it all the same. Even when I was young and doing the dirty work in the theatre, cleaning and stuff, I loved looking at the beautiful costumes, playing with the props, even the smell of the wings. It was hard, but it was well worth it." Marguerite reflected a bit, thinking over what Thomas had told her. "Thomas, what was Percy's father like?" Marguerite reflected a bit, thinking over what Thomas had told her. "Thomas, what was Percy's father like?"

The old gent smiled at Lady Blakeney. "He was kind Lady Blakeney. He would have liked you very much I think. While you are more outspoken that the late Lady Blakeney, your small features are a lot like hers, if I may say so. The way you carry yourself. Yes, Sir Algernon would have approved of his son marrying such a lady.

Marguerite couldn't help but to smile at the thought that Sir Algernon would have approved of her. She asked Percy once what his parents would have thought, and he replied they would have approved, but she wasn't sure that was the truth.

"In the years I served him before his wife's downfall, he was a man who worked hard in investments and cared for his family. It is why he wished to expand it. They had tried for children before, and it did not happen for years. Sir Algernon was so happy with the news of his wife finally being pregnant. He really was a good man Lady Blakeney."

Marguerite felt tears surge to her eyes again. To think that they wanted a child so much and then to have that bliss suddenly shattered when Percy was born.

Thomas sat and thought for a moment. He added, "Sir Algernon was a very quiet man though. Not outgoing and, well, silly like Sir Percy can be. I do not know where that man gets it from. The late Lady Blakeney was not that outgoing, but she did have a rare sense of humor for a woman, if I may say. Yes, Sir Algernon, in my opinion, was a fine English gentleman. About as fine as they come."

He thought for a moment and rubbed at his arthritis hands. "Did you say Milady that Sir Percy met you four years ago? Those of us in the house were under the impression you two met just weeks before we got word of him bringing home a very unexpected wife."

Marguerite wanted to ask more about Sir Algernon, but held her tongue when he continued asking about how the couple had meet. "I met Percy only seven weeks before I came here, but he claims to have known me for four years. He said he had seen me once in a play during a trip to Paris. After that, each time he came to the city he would search the listings to find where I was performing. Four years he had followed my career until less then three short months ago he sent a note asking to meet me. I agreed and he immediately won me over." Marguerite gave a happy sigh and a smile as she remembered the night she sang to him in the bistro and he danced her around in the moonlight.

Thomas nodded and watched Lady Blakeney. Everything he had known about her seemed to be false as they sat and talked. The prejudgment they passed upon her, based on the behavior she wished them to see, was untrue. The older man watched her speak of Sir Percy and he, as the rest of the house and all of London for that matter, wondered how a smart and beautiful woman could have fallen in love to marry a fool. Thomas was fond of his master, but his true loyalty remained in the father. Not the son. "That's nice milady."

Marguerite nodded sadly, wondering what had happened to her and Percy since arriving in Richmond. "Was Percy close to his father?"

The way she asked it, old gentle Thomas thought she already knew. Her face and demeanor changed and took on a sorrowful look. The entire house hold knew the two of them did not get along. Close?

That could hardly be said and Thomas looked at Marguerite with an odd look. Surely she had to know some of the tales on how the son loathed the father? Did she know? Should he say?

"To your question Milady, any would tell you the answer is no. I do not believe your husband has been close to any, save his friends at court. And now his wife, say?" The old British butler offered a friendly enough smile and looked at her young face. How much did Sir Percy tell her?

Marguerite tried to smile for show, but could barely manage it, her heart filled with sadness. "I suppose Lady Blakeney's condition was hard on everyone and made things difficult. Did Percy have any kind of relation at all with his father?"

What more could he offer to her? It became apparent to the Butler that Sir Percy told her nothing. Like everything else in life, he either paid it no heed or regarded it as a joke. This is why Thomas's loyalty lied with the father. The son was nothing more than the spoiled brat he took him for. Well, if she was going to ask, he was going to tell. What would be the worst that could happen? He would get fired? Hardly. Thomas was the only link that boy had to his deceased father. They hardly ever spoke, but they both knew it.

"Dear sweet Lady Blakeney," Thomas patted her hand. It was time for the butler to show his true colors, as he, like the rest of the household, did enjoy a good gossip. It only took him more encouraging and wearing down to reach this level. Frank, Sir Percy's valet was the only member in the household that did not partake in such events. For that, these two servant men hardly spoke to one another.

"Sir Percy did have a relationship with his father. The entire house knows about it. All of London have their ideas. I'm shocked this was kept from you milady. Far be it from me though to keep you in the dark. You are asking me answers, and by Jove! As your employee I am more than happy to answer to serve." Thomas had been a butler a long time. He knew how to just phrase things to make the gossip sound like his duty. The young lady surely would be just as interested to hear his words and would buy into it. Hook. Line. Sinker. "They did not get along Lady Blakeney. Sir Percy, why he was a wild child. Constantly getting himself into trouble. It was all Sir Algernon could do to control the young boy and care for his sick wife at the same time. They would come home from their trips and not even an hour into being home, the young lad would find himself into some sort of trouble."

Wisely, Thomas added, "Of course, that was when he was a boy. He hardly is the wild rogue now, is he? Yes, the man you married is more of the man Sir Algernon would have liked to have gotten to know." He didn't need to insult her choice in marriage. People change from children to adults. Unfortunately, Sir Percy went from active to languid in the worst way. No matter. Thomas had said enough.

Marguerite took the handkerchief and rubbed her eyes with it again, letting a few more tears drop from her eyes. It was hard to believe that the happy, loving husband she had had gone through a life with such pain as a child. "How old was Percy when Sir Algernon passed away?"

Oh ages. Ages. Something he tried to already remember. He knew Sir Percy was 13 when his mother died. The little lad causing the most trouble in the two years that followed. Shipped away to boarding school. Came back, house silent. He was indeed a man when Sir Algernon died. One of the rare times Sir Percy showed any emotion of care for Thomas's beloved employer, but a funeral is a little too late to make up for lost time. How old was Sir Percy? The gray matter in the butler's brain near smoked.

"Twenty two. Yes, I believe he was Twenty two Milady." He rubbed at his temples.

"Twenty-two." Marguerite couldn't help but murmur. He was two years older then she was now when he lost his father. Was he still trouble even at that age, she wondered, and was a bout to ask when Thomas' request stopped her.

The current Lady Blakeney was making Thomas's old worn brain tired. "Is there anything else you need? The hour grows late and I'm afraid my old body can't take much more of this." He offered her his warm smile.

Marguerite nodded, knowing the night was beginning to get late. "just one more thing Thomas. Before you said that I had a good heart, and that I had you fooled for a while. I know at times these past few weeks I have been just awful. Things have not been easy. I've moved from my home, away from my friends and almost everything familiar to me and brought here. I'm not used to servants around, and my ladies, although I know they're there to help me, make me rather nervous. The weather here is different and I have not taken to it well. It's been hard for me, and I miss Percy, I know he has things that need to be taken care of, but even on nights like tonight when he only leaves for a few hours I miss him terribly. My emotions sometimes get the best of me, and I sometimes lash out when such things happen. I'm really not the awful person I'm sure much of the staff thinks I am now. I hope that one day they will know that."

The old tired butler stood and nodded to Lady Blakeney. "Well I hope you will get used to us soon Milady. We do not plan on going anywhere or changing our proper English ways. I am sure over time, you will find yourself at home. As the staff will get to know you." Thomas gave her arm a pat and then turned, heading back to the kitchen.

Marguerite thanked him and watched as he headed on his way for he night. Many things were much clearer to her now, having understood what Percy had gone through. She realized now that when he first hugged her, when he first kissed her, it not only was the first time he probably had been affectionate with a woman, but maybe the first time he had shown love to anyone. She sighed as she wiped her eyes again, and waited for Percy to come home.

Memory lane left him weak in mind when he thought back to the events of that fateful day on board where son and father tumbled around deck. He sailed upon the Day Dream for a few hours. Letting his troubles spill out into the waves. It was times like these where, once distanced far off shore, Sir Algernon's son would become full voiced in volume and begin to shout angrily at the heavens.

He sometimes would curse both his parents. He sometimes cursed his boyhood and the feelings of betrayal he felt when shoved away in the boarding school. Sometimes he cursed God and other times the Baronet would dock the yacht way out and weep in a slump on the bow. Tonight, he cursed out the memory of Sir Algernon. Still, after so many years, the son could not let go of the grip he allowed the ghost to have on him. The one-sided shouting match he had with the heavens left his body tired.

Riding Sultan back, Sir Algernon's son was in no hurry to return to the Manor. Sultan, hungry, had other ideas however and strained against the reins his master seemed so intent on holding back. When they came upon Blakeney Manor, Blakeney saw candles still on in one of the front receiving rooms. He knew what that meant and sighed.

It was just a horrible night over all and he was not up for any contact with Marguerite.

Marguerite sat silently for what might have been minutes or what might have been hours after listening to the sad tale the Sir Algernon and the previous Lady Blakeney. Only the clip-clop of Sultan's familiar gait woke her from the trance she was in. Coming back to the present, she hastily wiped away any tears in her eyes and made her way to the main entrance of the manor.

He dismounted and glanced over at the Manor. Maybe Frank just left a light on for him. Maybe she would be upstairs and he could get away with "forgetting" his promise of entering her room and saying good night. Maybe he could just sneak in the back way and rid himself of the plague called wife.

The stable hands were still up. It was not incredibly late, but it was not incredibly earlier. With a sigh, he took off his riding gloves and handed them off to the boy with Sultan to put away. He did not say thank you like usual. His mind was focused strictly on Marguerite.

Knowing he was seen, he moved towards the front of the Manor where he saw a shadow waiting up for him. He was not in the mood for this tonight. For that matter, not any night! Fine, she wanted to play. He would play. Play dead. Stoic. Lifeless. The true composure of an English gentleman. "We will see how much longer she wishes to greet me at doorways." he thought. With that, he opened the door, and with a look of boredom and no smile, glanced down at Marguerite.

Marguerite didn't say anything as she walked to the doorway, having seen Percy enter. She was too busy holding back the tears again, tears of love and tears of pity. She stopped only a short distance from him, but couldn't say anything, she couldn't find the words for what she wanted to say. instead she slowly lifted her arms and slid them under his, wrapping them gently around his torso and laid her head on his chest and quietly began to sob.

Holding that stoniness about him, he began to question what it was worth as it had no effect on Marguerite. She came right up to him and wrapped her arms around him, crying uncontrollably, which in his current state of mind, only lead him to wish to weep with her. He began to lift his arms up, to wrap them around her sorrowfully and tell her that whatever was troubling her, it would be alright. He would make it better.

That is when his senses reminded him of her antics. Instead of wrapping his arms completely around her, he took hold of her shoulders and pulled her back and away from him. He clenched his jaw and looked down at Marguerite, his eyes lifeless and dead to her.

Marguerite felt his arms take hold of her shoulders to pull her body back from his. She looked up to him. If it wasn't for the tears still filling her eyes, she might have noticed how distant his eyes looked; if it wasn't for the dim lighting she might have noticed the hard expression on his face. But the lighting was dim and tears clouded her vision. Even as he pulled her back, she gripped onto his fine coat to keep herself near.

"Here here now. No need for dramatics. I was only gone for a few hours and am back in one piece." He took out his handkerchief and handed it to her as any English gentleman might. With not a smile or a kind word at her current situation.

Marguerite giggled some through the tears before pulling herself from his grip and once more wrapping herself around him, letting the tears flow more freely once her face was hidden against his chest again. "Percy, did I tell you today that I love you?"

"Nay Madame. I think not." Was Marguerite always this clingy? He could not remember. It was a fast courtship and he was too blinded by "love" to notice. He remembered a time he was just as clingy. He remembered kissing passionately in the park, forcing Marguerite back into a tree. She had cried over him, thinking him going back to England in that demmed park. Was none of it real? Why must he endure yet another act?

It ached at his heart to have her so near, yet he was powerless to enjoy or console. Marguerite was Europe's cleverest woman and France's greatest actress. Blakeney was England's biggest fool. Up until a few weeks ago, he had never believed it of himself.

He remained stoic and stiff, looking down at her and waited until she was finished. Offering nothing. Uttering not a sound.

Her soft sobs turned into a cry when Percy said he didn't think she had told him she loved him today. She buried her face in his chest and hugged him tighter until she could feel her eyes beginning to dry out. Marguerite could remember that her mother once told her children grew up on love. That made it hard to fathom what Percy's life could have been like with an ill mother and a distant father, to be deprived of gentleness and caring at such a young age, to grow up with out really knowing love. More then anything though, at that moment, she was angry with herself for not sharing her love with him that day.

As if an answer to his question, her increased wailing became to be seen as a sign in his brain. This was his answer, damn it all. The little minx was putting on one hell of an act alright. "Damn it be for me to fall for it." Blakeney fumed inside.

As the tears slowed she pulled her arms from around him and lifted them up to cradle his face. She searched through the tears and the dim lighting to look into his eyes. "Percy, I love you." she willfully declared to her husband. "I'm sorry I hadn't told you that today, I'm sorry I hadn't told you that a dozen times today. It's an awful thing for a married person not to tell their spouse they love them everyday."

"I can think of far worse things." He pulled back immediately when she began to fuss over him.

"I think there are few things worse then when one person can not tell the object of their desire that they are so wanted, that the one in their heart is needed so." she began to object, then he continued.

"Oh please," he thought. Why did she carry on so?

"Fuss. What was the sense in fussing anyway?" Sir Percy began aloud. "I am certainly not some babe looking for its mother or needing to hear these words of love. Think nothing of it Madame, and please, dry those tears. You shed them in the wrong presence."

"But what is wrong with hearing them and accepting them Percy. Everyone needs love, everyone needs to know they are loved, that there are others who care for them. It doesn't matter if it's a baby or an old man, everyone needs love. And if I can't cry in the presence of my own husband, then in whose presence can I shed them in?" Marguerite said, confused by Percy's reaction to her. He wasn't as open as she was, but he had shown care for her, through both words and actions. "Percy, tell me how you feel about me. Let me here you say my name, and how you feel."

"If you want to hear words of love Madame, go to the library and pull out a sonnet." He had never uttered the words "love" in affection to anyone in all his life and he certainly was not going to tell the vixen here and now. Oh, she was good. He would give her that alright. She was damn good. He, however, was going to be one step ahead of her game. Blakeney was determined to be better.

He began to move, walked right past her towards the kitchen to quench his thirst. If she was going to try and block his path, why, he would pick her up and remove the obstruction out of his path. He was done with games.

Marguerite's heart fell at Percy's uncaring words. Was he simply planning on brushing her off in such a harsh way? He might have had a rough time of it while out today, but that was no justification for the way he was treating her now. She quickly turned on a heel and followed him through the house. "Percy I know you're not so open with your feelings and I don't expect any sort of sudden outpouring of emotions but is it too much for a wife to want to hear her husband say he loves her." Marguerite came around to face him, walking backwards towards to kitchen, "You told me you loved me once, is it too much to say those words together again?"

"Don't you have a female friend or someone you can write to back in France about these womanly issues?" He said in answer to her "whose presence" question. Sir Percy gave a yawn and flailed his hand about. She still babbled on about feelings. Bah! He was through with them!

"How I feel Madame is tired. It has been a long day, an even longer week and I how I feel about you at the moment is none for a tired old fool like me to say." His voice matched his eyes in coldness and boredom. He did not show anger, just mild irritation on the whole conversation.

"How you feel about your own wife is not for you to say? Percy, what has happened to you, why have you changed so much since we came from France?" So many questions buzzed about in her head, but one thing was for sure, this was not the man she thought he was. Marguerite would never have entertained a man like him, much less allow herself to courted and eventually marry him. Did he do that for show and figure his money and other fine things would keep her occupied for the rest of their lives together? "Percy, I'm going to make this very simple for you, you only need to say yes or no. Do you love me?"

When she insisted he answer her question, he turned, holding a cup of tea and put forth, "You, Madame are more than I deserve and I am always at your service. However the night grows late and I beg, please, have some peace and quiet, say? Confound it my ears are already ringing from the long ride on Sultan and your timing leaves little room for pleasantries."

He gave a cold and unnerving stare at her, as he brought the teacup to his lips and drank. Maybe he should have stayed on the Day Dream for the night and claimed it sank.

Marguerite's heart sank. He wouldn't answer, he didn't love her. "You always say that Percy, you always say am I more then you deserve, but what about me Percy? What do I deserve? Don't I deserve love, and a family, and a home?" she persisted with anger in her voice and tears in her eyes.

He watched her, making his stare go vacant as if Sir Percy honestly hadn't a single remarkable thought in his head. He sipped at the tea and said not a word, listening to her rampage. When the tea cup was emptied, he turned and left it on the counter for the staff to take care of. He was, still, the Baronet Blakeney.

"Madame, I can only perform to the best of my capabilities to serve you. I apologize that my mind is small and that my actions and words do not meet to the ladies expectations of the highest standards. Armand is here. There is a roof over your head. Is this not your home as it is mine?" He moved over near her, but only to stop short of her reach. Every move Blakeney did was part of the well calculated game.

"Percy, a home isn't a building with walls and a roof. A home is a place of love, a place to be with those important to a person. My brother is here yes, but not for long, but more then that, what about my loving husband? where has he gone too?" Marguerite stammered, tears once more running down her face.

He gave a tsk tsk tsk sound and shook his head back and forth. "You must have really been through something tonight. Such a horrifying state I come home to find you. Perhaps after a hot bath you will feel better. I will fetch you your girls." Again, careful to be just out of reach, he spun on those long lanky legs, calling out loudly for Candice, for Emily, for any of the team to come and bathe the Lady Blakeney. He actually said the word "the".

"Nothing terrible at all had happened until you came home tonight. Don't bother calling my ladies, as you seem to have forgotten I'm very well capable for bathing myself if I so choose, which I do not." Marguerite rushed off to follow him. "And don't walk away from me like that Percy, I'm not done speaking to you yet."

Ho ho! If his back was not to her, she would have seen how her tone and words gutted at his very being and core. Sir Percy spoke dim witted and she retorted with the high and mightiness as if SHE were the well bred aristocrat and he the worker on the corners of France.

He stopped for a moment, but just a mere second of a pause. No. He would not let her get to him. He waved his hand in the air, his back still to her as he heard Candice and another making their way down the foyer stairs at his command. "Follow if you like Madame. My feet have a mind of their own I fear." He began walking towards the foyer, giving his usual off key hum to "God Save the King".

Marguerite sped up into a near run to catch Percy, finally grabbing onto his arm with both of her hands. "Percy, why won't you look at me, why won't you talk to me? Am I nothing more to you then something pretty to look at and dress up and decorate? I need love, I need companionship, why have you pulled away from me?"

Sir Percy's face gasped and he brought his other hand on his arm that her fingers dug into, as if she was hurting him. "Egad!" His lazy blue eyes widened in a horrified shock at her behavior. By this time, Candice and her companion had made it to the bottom of the stair well and were coming around the corner, witnessing the grabbing of The Lady Blakeney onto her stupid husband.

"Pulled.. why, pulled away?" Sir Percy's blue eyes looked dumbly from her and then right onto the suction cup of her hand on his arm. "I would hardly call this pulling away. We actually seem rather attached."

Foolishly he giggled. "Bmuheeheee. This is a joke right?" His face broke into a wider smile and he looked at Candice and the other one of Marguerite's girls. "Why, where is the punch line say? Are you two already involved? Heheeeheheeeeee. It is most intriguing so far!" He tossed his head back and laughed. The laughter was full in voice and echoed good naturedly throughout the household. If she refused to leave his side, he would embarrass her as bad as he. Take her down with him.

Marguerite could feel her face flush in anger and embarrassment. Without looking at the girls, Marguerite stated, "I'm sorry Sir Percy disturbed you ladies. I don't need anything thank you, and I won't be needing you the rest of the night." Marguerite waited until the footsteps began to fade before speaking again, not letting her eyes break from his. She let the sound fade, although she had no doubt the girls would be listening in.

"Percy, I demand to know what is going on. I didn't come here to occupy you at your will. I love you, and I came here to be your wife because of that love. And when I said you're pulling away from me, I don't just mean physically. When was the last time we really sat and talked? When was the last time we went for a ride or on a picnic? Do you even remember the last time we slept in each other's arms?" She said, her breath coming fast and frantic now. What was wrong between her and Percy?

"Demand.. demand?!" He blinked and looked at her, slowly shaking his head. Sir Percy did not understand a word she meant. "You speak Greek to me Madame. Why, what do you mean? Talk? You want to talk? So talk. How I always love a good conversation." He completely ignored her questions that pertained to sleeping and together. Blakeney would wear her down, one foppish act after another.

"I speak fine English without so much as a 'La' or a 'Sink me' to pollute my vocabulary. You know very well what I am talking about and if you are so eager to talk why do you keep walking away from me." Marguerite persisted. She knew he had a reputation of being the biggest fool in England, although until they had arrived here, she never would have believed it. Perhaps it was something about the water.

He snapped his finger and pointed right at her little button nose, but did not touch it. "Say! You just reminded me of a GRAND idea. Just yesterday, I was saying to myself, 'Self. You need to go help that little sprout feel just at home here in Richmond. Marguerite likes the theatre. That girl is in the theatre. Why don't we tomorrow night go... to the theatre!' And I said to myself... 'Self! You are the clever one!' We can go do that, you would like that, no?" Sir Percy smiled down at her. The inane smile never leaving the lazy look on his face.

"No," Marguerite said as she shook her head, "No Percy, I wouldn't like that. Percy, I'm grateful that you've taken such a liking to Armand and are willing to help him feel at home while he is here in England, but why can't you and I do something together, just the two of us?"

"Bah Madame! How droll. A night out might be just what you need. If you wish some 'special time' we can have lunch together in the garden. But La! My mind is made up! Tomorrow night, we will attend the theatre!"

With that, he tossed his head back and gave a soft, yet high off-pitched "Laaaaaaaaaaaa" as if he were on stage singing. Blakeney could really be near charming and entertaining when he wished to be.

Marguerite gave a defeated sigh. was there no getting through to him tonight? "Fine then, we will have lunch in the garden, alone, tomorrow afternoon. And no excuses; no business, no visitors, nothing to take you away from me again." Marguerite grumbled. She would agree to dinner, but not to going to the theatre, not yet at least.

"Whatever you desire Madame. I am but your servant to command." Sir Percy smiled and gave a small bow. He would give her what she wanted. Time? What was time to him in the grand scheme of things? If he gave her time now, he could have his time to go off to France later. Who cared about it. What did it mean? Time. It was just something bothersome he would have to spend with her.

Marguerite wanted time alone. He wanted the meeting at the theatre. Fine. She could have her lunch in the garden. What was a few hours that he would have to spend in her presence when she shadowed him anyway? "I will have Thomas arrange for it Madame. No business, I swear upon my tiniest toe." Sir Percy smiled down at her.

Marguerite had to fiercely fight the urge to smack that stupid grin off Percy's face. She was terribly upset and all he could do is goof and laugh, belittling her emotions. "Fine," she stated plainly, "we'll have lunch in the garden tomorrow, until then Sir Percy.” At the end she spat his name out as she turned for her rooms for the night.

He swore he watched her eyes narrow and the tone of voice she took with him was just something short of a cat fighting another. His name was tossed out there as a final warning scream. Did he almost detect distaste?

She let him off the hook for now and part of him was thankful. Blakeney nodded to her and watched her swiftly swoosh off down the hallway. He would never admit it, but his eyes followed her as she departed. Reveling in the love that once was his.

Marguerite entered her room, and turned as she moved to close it. As she did, she caught sight of him staring at her. Giving a sour look, she slammed the door as a final goodnight to her husband and went further into her room, collapsing weakly on the soft divan near her bed.

Questions kept going through her head about her and Percy, so much so it made her mind spin and brought on an awful, stressing headache. Frustrated, she pushed her shoes off and alone headed towards her dresser and wardrobe to change. She looked at her reflection and the dress she was wearing, another gift of Percy's. In a sudden fit, she reached into the closet and pulled out as many dresses as she could wrap her arm around and went back to Percy's room, and pounded on the door with her foot.

He had begun to undress, taking off his grand coat and vest, hanging them up for Frank to take care of in the morning. His cravat off, his shirt tucked half in and half out, he heard the knocking on the door. Blakeney turned and wondered why on earth someone was pounding so low on the door. Curiosity got the best of the man, and in vain, tucking in his shirt, he went over and opened the door.

To angry to say anything of substance or wit to Percy, Marguerite forced to door opened further and dropped all the dresses in her arms at his feet. She stepped back only pausing to remove the diamond bracelet she was wearing and drop it on top of the pile of clothes she had disposed of in his room.

The pile of clothes at his feet amused him inside. This certainly was not an act of a rational or sane person. She was angry and irritated. Sir Percy gave the standard stock shocked look of near horror. The bracelet, well, that action hurt a little. Blakeney actually took time picking the demmed thing out, trying to decide between thick and thin for Marguerite's delicate hands. He glanced down at the clothes. His eyes following her as if it there was nothing else in his day he should be doing other than this exact thing. Then his eyes followed her movements of her hands and she undid the clasp and tossed her bracelet down. The lazy blues dropping down to look at where it landed in the pile.

Looking back up at her, Sir Percy's face took on a look of utter confusion and blankness. He did not say a thing in response, but tilted his head ever so to the left, regarding her. Inside, Blakeney was fuming over the bracelet and made sure he kept himself in perfect check. The only thing he did that betrayed him was his adam's apple, no longer covered by the cravat, jolted in his throat.

Marguerite froze in his glance. He just gave her a blank, thoughtless look. He just stood there with that stupid look she had seen all too often these past few weeks. Trembling inside, Marguerite bit down so hard on the inside of her lips to keep from screaming she could taste the bit blood in her mouth.

His silence just furiated her more. She was not some prize he won in France. She was not some doll to play dress up with. She was not appeased by material things. She was not there just to love, honor, and obey when it served his purposes. Sometimes she would ask him what he was thinking when she wondered what was on his mind. His answers before always seemed honest and sincere, but she doubted she'd get such a response tonight.

She turned away just in time to hide her tears from him and went back to her room, slamming the door without bothering to see if her had stepped out to watch her or not. She looked at the wardrobe to see about three or four simple dresses remaining. Enough to have until she could have all of her things sent over from France taken out of storage.

For a moment, he watched her sorrowful face look into his. Blakeney swore dealing with Marguerite was the hardest acting he had ever done. She was so intense and relentless. She wore at him, but it appeared he was the victor. Flying away, she slammed her door, rocking the entire upstairs in his mind.

Not sure right from wrong, Blakeney thought of the St. Cyrs and slowly began to pick up the thrown dresses. He was not having a fun time of this. Not at all.

Marguerite threw herself on the bed, sobbing into the soft sheets and blanket. Once the few tears she had had left her eyes, she sat up and slid of the bed. She would not wearing the dresses Percy bought her, she would not sleep in the sheets he bought her too. Her body slid limply onto the Back