Body and Soul

It was simple enough as he wished not to delve into the exacts of the note. There was a long trip ahead and a harder reality to face. In the hours of morn before light, he dressed in the dark in one of his finest suits that Frank left for him in the den. When the last boot strap was in place and the finest lace fluffed, Sir Percy donned a flat, brown, riding cap and left to deliver the note near where she slept. Quietly Richmond's tender fool stole down the foyer stairs and took hold of a riding cane before exiting the Manor. The exit was without sound through the kitchen door and then straight onto the stables for his awaiting horse.

Blakeney was leaving to retrieve Hastings.

Marguerite was roused slightly by an odd feeling around her, but drifted peacefully into a half slumber. She moved and stretch a bit in the bed, reaching out for Percy. It was only when she realized he wasn't beside her that she began to wake up. She sat up and let her tired eyes adjust to the room. She stood and fumbled about looking for a candle. Finding none, she went to open the curtain, and their she saw him, a lonely figure walking towards the stables.

She turned to retrieve her robe when she saw the note. After reading it, she dashed out of his room and rushed down the stairs towards the front door, hoping to make it to the front of the manor before Percy passed by on his horse.

The moonlight shone brightly against the old wooden stables of his home. Before his leather bound foot could even hit the gravel, Percy saw Sultan standing and awake in the distance. The animal knew its master's habits and was anxious for the attention and freedom it craved. With a smile, Blakeney tucked his cane under his arm and strolled across the make-shift gravel driveway. A few clicks of his tongue was given and the horse neighed quicker and louder. It was time to depart.

Once on the grand steed's back, Blakeney turned Sultan about and let him trot in a cantering way from the stable yards. His face was tired and worn, after only two hours sleep. The task at hand was nothing jovial, adventurous or exciting. Just a duty that had to be performed.

In the distance, Blakeney saw a sight that made him tense. Standing at the end of the drive, near the road, looking something short of an angel, a ghost appeared. His eyeglass hung around his neck, tucked safely away in his jacket and Percy dared not remove it for recognizing the creature. The white bed robe. The flowing dark hair. The woman was his mother, and the wind with his mind, made her flowing features appear more eerie than they should.

Slowly, looking near spooked himself, Percy pulled back on Sultan's reins.

Marguerite had come out to the drive and saw Percy in the distance. Suddenly he began to slow Sultan or which ever horse he was riding down so that he approached only at a slow trot. She had turned to face him, raising her arm as if to wave him towards her, just slight as she was still tired from the long day and little sleep

When the creature moved, his knuckles turned white for the grip on the reins tightened. With all the strangeness that effects one of this world, why his mother now?

Only when the vision turned fully to face him, and Sultan pressed on against his master's will, did Blakeney recognize Marguerite. With a soft release of air, he moved the horse near to where she stood. The sounds of the night were soft and quiet, and to speak almost meant to disturb nature's mediation.

In a whisper, the Baronet spoke, "I hope I did not awaken you."

Marguerite looked up with him with a few tears pricking at her eyes. "No," she whispered, "but I wish you had. Where are you going Percy? Why are you leaving? Are you mad at me, did I do something wrong at the ball tonight? I just wish you would tell me before you left me alone sometimes, or told me why." Marguerite gently and weakly began to sob as she let her head rest against his leg and she stroked Sultan's main.

He was not awake yet for such an outburst. Blakeney stood there, blinking his eyes in near shock as the mouth babbled on faster than he could think. Too many questions for his brain to handle and dumbly, he offered, "I left a note of such. Had it been something you needed to hear, as in an emergency manner, I would have handled things differently."

Why did he feel the need to explain himself? He was Sir Percy who did as he pleased, when he pleased. God help him for ever taking on a wife. The un-justified guilt weighed on him, and his gloved hand gently pet her hair to offer a false comfort.

Marguerite let her head settle against his leg as he touched her hair, but still lightly sobbed. "But it must be an emergency, or else why leave now, at this time of night, with so little rest? I hate when you do this to me Percy. I love you so much, and it's so painful to live even for the shortest time without you."

Damn! How he hated these lines of conversation. Abhorred them!

Explain, explain, explain. Why she could not accept was beyond his grasp. Again, he would repeat the phrases to her. Again, her ears would know the same words from his lips.

"This is the life of Sir Percy, Marguerite. I have always lived this way, and can only dumbly continue. I know, nor wish to know, any other way."

Marguerite turned her head to look at him, with a hint of anger in her eyes. "Have you forgotten that the life of Sir Percy now includes a wife? A wife that he promised to love and cherish and care for? A wife that hardly sleeps when she doesn't know where he is? A wife that can't eat because she misses him so and has in less than three months nearly starved herself to the death because of his absence? A wife that has shed more tears in those few months than she probably had in 20 of a life of poverty, and illness, and loss, and hardships? A wife that loves him more than she ever though she could love anyone? Does Sir Percy remember her?"

'Good Lord!' he thought, 'If her mouth could eat as fast as her temper poured, she would be as huge as a house!' His thoughts returned to Hastings and could only imagine that she would keep him sitting atop of Sultan for over two hours had he continued to defend himself. 'Damn me!' the Baronet cursed. 'My new ways are stupid ways and she makes me forget them! Damn me twelve hundred times!'

Slowly, the Baronet swung his leg over the side of the horse. Gently, he wrapped the reins around the fence post and took a deep breath. Softly, his breath spoke to her. "Sir Percy does remember her." His gloved hand gently reached out to her. She spoke of love, and that made him internally cringe. The Pimpernel was not Sir Percy and the Pimpernel would have to fool her, as he did everyone. Sir Percy did remember her. Blakeney remembered her. Even the Pimpernel and Sir Algernon's son remembered her: St. Cyr.

"How can I make up my wickedness?" He knew to defend himself would bring forth more wrath, so he kept submissive.

"I just wish to know." Marguerite said as she took his hand. "Where are you going? Why do you leave me. Why sneak away instead of just talking to me?"

Kindly, he smiled upon her ghostly form. "I will tell you when I return. It is of a sensitive nature, and pains me to speak upon it just yet. You can understand, can't you?"

He was giving it all he had.

Marguerite moved and slid her arms around him, gently resting her head on his chest. "If I must wait, then I suppose then I will, and in the meantime I will try to understand. But you have to understand too Percy, understand that life here is hard for me, and when you leave it's that much harder. Even tonight at the ball, I could see them whispered, nodding, pointing at me."

When she took a break to breath he added his philosophy, "People will do what they tend to do. No sense stopping them. Besides, you either get used to it or don't hear it after a while." He spoke matter of factly, as his life's way had lead him to believe.

"And I heard them too, I heard them whispering when they did not realize I was near, and I heard all those awful lies and rumors that people were spreading, especially that old woman who practically called me a whore right to my face." Marguerite let another few light tears drop from her eyes, "They don't even know me Percy, and they say such awful things about me, such awful and painful things. But I will try to be strong, and I will try to understand, for you, and for us."

A hard blink into the moon lit night made his breath stop. At first, he just stood there, gently resting his arms around her as she hugged him. He did not mean too... Blakeney did not mean too.... but the lack of sleep made him more relaxed than normal, and he had not meant too.

"Wh... whore?" No longer able to hold it in, Blakeney let out such a laugh, it echoed throughout the small hills on his property.

Hearing him laugh upset her even more and she pulled out of his arms. "Do you always find other's pain as this amusing Percy?" she asked as she let herself drop onto the wet grass by the side of the drive

She was as persistent in motion as she was with verbiage. Try as he may to keep her there, she refused to be held while his laughter continued. Seeing the dramatic display as she fell to the ground, Blakeney shook his head. His laughter did not cease, but he did tone it down a bit. Sultan leaned his head down and nibbled the grass, gently bumping against Lady Blakeney. She was half covering a tender weed the horse wished to eat.

"Oh Marguerite," he good-humoredly chided. "Come now. When do you see me laugh so, at any pain but mine own?" Women sure had a way with emotions of which, God help him to his dying days, he would never grasp the meaning. With a soft touch, he gently attempted to lift her to her feet. "Come, come, stop with the tears. It is worth a bit of funnism, you may see if will listen and let me explain." All he could think of was Countess Delgharan. People sure were a lot of fun.

When she felt Sultan near her she reached over and gentle rubbed his neck as Percy continued to laugh until the horse attempted to nibble at grass too near her and attempted to nudge her over. She in turn pushed him away, an action he didn't appreciate and returned to continue nibbling at the grass he wanted, taking a bit of her rob with it.

Hearing Percy, she stood as she felt him touch her. She sniffled and hastily wiped her eyes to stop crying at his request.

"I must admit that it is my doing that enabled your poor, sweet ears t here the horrible words uttered by Countess Delgharan." He shook his head and gave her a small squeeze. "Things people say are mostly at their own wills. When the woman spoke to me so, I gave her a bit to chew on, and it seems she learned to late the truth.

"Tis my fault Marguerite, and do not think a thing of it. The woman is half mad with jealous over thine beauty." Sultan continued to nibble away on the grass.

Marguerite bit her lip in a vain attempt to keep her tears from overflowing onto her cheeks again. "You, but why Percy> I don't understand what she could have said that would make you say something so awful about me, and in the end what purpose would it have served?"

How could he explain to Marguerite that he seeked revenge at times for the way he himself had been treated growing up. An outcast. A dumb idiot. So used to how the people in England treated him, the stone wall he built long ago refused to tumble. It was not so with others, he realized.

Now he threatened to reveal the very truth he kept secret for years. It was his truth to hang onto, and the Baronet was not so quick to release it once more to his vixen. How to explain?

"I suppose then the joke is on me." He gave in. What could he say other than this? "By means of a trick, I thought I could show up the old wind bag, however it appears that my foolishness has only caused you further distress that I seem all too well to put on you by mine own silent actions." Taking her hand, he kissed it gently, his lips pressing down tenderly.

Marguerite still did not fully understand, but guess, considering how he referred to the woman, she guessed he was trying to make her look the fool. She smiled as he kissed her hand. "Just a day or so you'll be gone?" she asked.

Nodding, he said with a bit more of a brighter attitude in the darkened morning, "Yes. Two we shall say." His mind raced and he thought of paying Paul a quick visit. That was his original intent prior to the job of finding Hastings. The damn address was in his pocket and he wished not to think on it.

Marguerite once more put her arms around him. "I never even showed you your present. I wish I had before you left. You must promise me then, promise that the first thing you do when you return to the manor is find me, even if you have to wake me in the middle of the night. I want to know you are home as soon as you arrive."

Present. She had kept him away from..... a present. With his head moving off to one side, Percy looked at her gentle face. The waning moonlight trickled and danced across her features when she moved or spoke. Another time. Another life, he reminded the urge to kiss her.

The Baronet did not know formalities of surprises and presents. Or rather, he was taught once but preferred to utilize it when it best suited his needs. Boldly he announced, "Show it to me now then, eh? Why wait?"

Marguerite looked up and smiled, "Really Percy?" Happily she pulled out of his arms only to grab his hands and lead him towards the manor. "Alright, but you must promise, once we're upstairs, you will close your eyes until we're there."

"Alright", he lied. If there were a mirror or a chance to see it, the Pimpernel wished for such things. Always trying to be the clever one. Sultan's reins were still wrapped around the fencepost, so Percy did not worry for his wandering off. Not that Sultan would. Obedient as a dog that horse. If only he could figure out something for Marguerite.

Seeing the excitement on her face, it only made him near giddy. The clock in the main hallway chimed to 4:30am and Blakeney took a breath. He would be starting out late this morning. No matter, it would be worth a surprise. As they neared the foyer stairs, he decided it might be fun to be the one surprised for a change and closed his eyes. He could placate her.

As they neared the foyer stairs, Marguerite held one hand over his eyes to keep him from peaking as she lead him up the steps and through his rooms to his tub room, where the surprise was waiting, stopping only briefly to find and light a candle.

Blakeney gave a little bit of a laugh, feeling her cover his eyes so. "Don't you trust me?" He asked in a way where he did not expect an answer. He felt in an odd mood. Percy was slowly beginning to feel like he had during the beginning of the previous week. He did not raise a red flag, but rather went with it.

She moved to stand beside him and whispered into his ear to open his eyes. She waited to see his reaction to the new bath tub she had installed.

It was a surprised and shocked man that stood there in his riding britches, staring at the 'surprise' she had left for him.

"I noticed that the tub seemed small for a man your height." she said, "I know baths will take a bit longer to warm, but I thought perhaps a longer and wider one, one would be more comfortable, especially since you seem to like long baths." she explained as she waited for his reaction.

Turning his head slowly, Blakeney looked at his wife. "Hoo ho how did you do this?" He thought of all the times he scrunched down. All the times he tried to dunk underneath the water but was unable too thanks to his long legs. Looking astonished, Percy gave a growing grin back and forth from Marguerite and the tub.

"When I finally went into town to get my dress, I spoke with a man about the tub. I bought it and arranged for it to be delivered and installed while we were at the ball." Marguerite gave a small tug on his hand and pulled him closer to it, "Do you want to sit in it, just to see how it feels?"

"Tis a mighty fine idea for a mighty fine tub." A normal man might have made an excuse or face to not stand in a tub fully dressed, but Sir Percy was quite excited. Lifting his leg, he climbed in and stood there, boots and all, inspecting the large steel basin.

"Well damn me twice." Was all he could say as he bent down, grabbed hold of the sides, and scuttered forward until he sat. It was roomy. Quite roomy in fact. He could stretch out his legs. He could dunk down and submerge if it fancied him. As he was laying down in the tub, he happened to glance over to Marguerite and that is when his blood chilled every so slightly.

Marguerite smiled and lifted her robe and night gown a bit, revealing her bare feet and legs as she put her feet into the tub and sat on the edge. "Oh Percy, I'm so glad you like it. I wish you had time to try a real bath before you had to leave," she added sadly.

'Damn me more than twice!' he exclaimed in his head. He knew it! The feeling washed over him and he knew! No sooner had the warning in his head figured it out, Marguerite acted on the very thing. She bought the forsaken tub, not for him... but for THEM.

And to make matters worse, she was to continue to spin her web around him by exposing her bare feet. Her cute little toes and slender fine legs. Damn! Damn! Damn!

"Yes, well, it is a lovely thing." Quickly the Baronet stood and adjusted his riding hat. He had forgotten to take it off when they entered the Manor, so quickly had his mind focused fully on the surprise.

Some surprise alright. The joke was on him once more.

"You really shouldn't have." He said, by means of gratitude, forgoing the double meaning in his mind. "I am sure I will make good use of it when I return."

'Heaven help me for I will be cornered like a drowned rat upon my return.' he whimpered inside but said no more aloud. Sir Percy gave her a thank you hug, and then quickly exited the steel trap.

Marguerite quickly followed. She was not about to let him leave without saying goodbye. She was puzzled because he seemed so quick to leave, but the hour was growing late and he did need to leave. "I am sure you will. In fact, I insist that the first thing you do when you return is have a nice long bath in it." she said as she followed him out the door.

She struggled a bit but once slowing down as they neared Sultan again, she tossed her arms around him with a loving hug. Playfully, she leaned up and whispered, "You know, they had other ones. The even had the exact same one that was in the master bath of the manor we stayed in on the honeymoon. I thought about getting that one for my own suite. And once you return, I will have another surprise to show you. It's not a present or a gift, but something I am very proud of." She hugged him tighter and rested her head once more against his chest.

'Once I return indeed,' he thought quietly to himself. 'She is full of surprises. Just when I think I am onto her, she does something to reel me back in. Odd's Fish!'

"What can a man overwhelmed say?" Sir Percy smiled down at her, in his stoic English manner. Returning the hug, he patter her hair, placated her, then when a few moments passed, he released Lady Blakeney.

"Get some rest now, say? Before the entire household sees my wife running about in her bed robe." He unwrapped the reins from the fencepost and click clicked his tongue to arouse the attention of the eating horse. Sultan nibbled on some expensive flowers and refused to lift his head for a few moments, now that his reins were free and he could readily reach the plants.

"Has everything got to be a chore with you?" He said it to the horse, but was thinking it directed at his wife. With a cough, Sir Percy was a top the steed, giving a tip of his riding cap to the lady below.

As Percy scolded his horse, Marguerite moved to rub its long neck. "It isn't enough that you had to nibble through my nice robe, now you have to eat our flowers to don't you. Well, we'll see if I offer you any sweets the next time I visit the stables won't we?"

She turned her attention on last time to Percy before he left, just in time to see him tip his hat to her. She once more took his hand and said, "Won't you offer me a kiss before you go? Just one sweet goodbye kiss for your wife?"

The English gentleman brought up her hand to his lips and gave her a good bye gesture. "Sleep well now." He wished to add that Lady Blakeney have the most pleasant of dreams, but caught himself.

Standing there in the moonlight, clad in only her bed robe, Blakeney was painfully reminded of innocent dreams of taking his wife somewhere beyond the hills on his land. It was a horrible morning all over.

Marguerite was saddened that he would only kiss her hand, but as she did she brought her fingertips up caress his cheek. "Well then," she said softly, "You had better go. Go swiftly, so that you may return swiftly to me."

Biding his wife a nod, Sir Percy clicked his tongue once more and urged the steed onward. Sultan was all to ready to begin the journey and started out a little sluggish, with his belly so full of grass and grains. Blakeney noticed the speed, but did nothing to push the horse. It was a long ride to Dover, and a longer journey to Paris.

Knowing his master's will, Sultan had taken the journey to the high hills and shore drops many times, and could lead himself if need be. Mindlessly, Blakeney sat a top, staring straight ahead into the foggy morning as Sultan clippity clopped on. The soft rhythmatic beat of hooves against ground was to Percy a lullaby, and soon he was nodding on and off in a soft sleep.

Once the sun poked over the land, Blakeney squinted and started speaking, to none other than the horse.

"So, what shall I do with her old boy?" The Englishman let the wall fall today. Ironically, no one with the grey matter of understanding was able to hear.

"Dancing with her partner last night near killed me. Keeping up at this pace. This foolish face. I can't keep her in my bed and hate her all the same you know." Sultan would respond to Percy by a twitch of his ears or a quick backward glance. There was a tone in his master's voice that the horse related to when he ate too much hay and his stomach was upset. Sultan could feel his master was in some sort of uncomfortable state.

"I know," Blakeney continued the one sided conversation, "I have only myself to blame, rushing things about and traveling off into the night. It does make a fellow feel much like the idiot mask I wear. Don't you agree?" A brown and tan ear flattened back and the horse wondered if his master ate too much.

"Yes. I hear you." The monologue in the morning continued. "I have to take a side and stick with it. I cannot continue to be weak and allow her to have her power over me. She is beautiful though Sultan. Isn't she?"

The horse responded with a whiney, and could only wonder why its master carried on so. When one has an upset stomach, better to eat some grass. Sultan slowly started to walk to the side of the King's highway, in case its master wished to dismount and try some ground greens.

Percy pulled on the reins and steered Sultan towards the road again. "Hungry again? I'm pouring out a story and you can only think of your stomach? Damn horse." He chuckled good-naturedly and thought of the vision in the moonlight.

"You did catch a glimpse of her, standing there in that expensive lace gown, didn't you? Our earthly robes mean nothing to you, do they Sultan?" The horse did not respond for he had no idea it was expected, and clip clopped onward. "Well, they mean the world to me. At first, I thought I saw my mother, coming back to either hold me and let me know it is all a bad dream. Or worse. To haunt me, as such childhood stories go."

He was quiet a top the steed for a while now, thinking.

"I think I'm being punished by God." Percy finally concluded aloud. "I am old, and sometimes too old to have such thoughts, but I believe I killed her. My mother. Growing up, I suppose I always knew. I heard the servants whisper and hint at such things. I watched the way my father looked at me. I can still remember his chilling words that day on his ship."

He took in a deep breath and swallowed back the knot in his throat. For a moment, Blakeney thought himself as ridiculous. Speaking on such things after all these years... and furthermore, to an animal that could not understand. Needing to speak, however, Blakeney talked on. "I used to think, after their deaths, I was finally free. Finally able to become who I felt I was, but it didn't happen that way. I now take pride in the fact that people at the ball consider me the most un-intelligible man in London. I have fooled them all and they are the true idiots.

"But God is not pleased. I do not know if he thinks I should not meddle with French affairs or if I am only using these actions as a cover up for the wrong deeds done as a child. I say, I am a good man, are I not Sultan?" His lonely voice near whimpered, unsure and confused.

They rode in silence for a moment more, as Blakeney tried to come to grips with these heavily weighed thoughts. "By the heavens! Perhaps I shall never know and will die in France by the very cover I take. I am old, you know. Men, even aristocracy, are lucky to see fifty or sixty, you realize. When I die, what can I say I have done that was worthwhile? If I am only going to France to make amends now, in my aging life, what will God make of my previous years in body and soul?"

He took deep breaths now, working himself up and could only picture Marguerite in the moonlight. Picturesque, standing there with her unkempt hair wildly flying about in the gentle wind.

Patting the thickly muscled neck of Sultan, Percy could not take himself away from the torturing thoughts. How he missed her.

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