Caught!/After the Exit


ALL about it? He looked down at his leg sheepishly. "Well, no, I wasn't bored, not in the slightest." Armand looked at his sister and noticed what Helene had told him. She was thin and frail. Her skin was whiter, and she looked tired. But at the same time, happier than she'd ever been. "Marguerite, are you well? You look a little... like you don't feel well."

"Oh," Marguerite began, "I'm getting over a little something. I must tell you though I feel ten times better now then I did even when I woke up this morning. Now don't you start telling me to see a doctor because I know you want to and you know I can take care of myself. Now, where did you go this time on your trip."

Nervous, he avoided her question and pursued the doctor issue instead. "Chéri, you should see a doctor!" He said, confirming her guess. "I don't care what you say, you should go. You may feel fine, but trust me, you don't look it. I'm worried about you, Margot. When we left you looked fine, but a mere week later, you look frail and weak. Margot, what's going on?"

"Armand, nothing is going on. I promise you. All I need to have you and Percy need me to get well." she said as she gave him a hug to calm him, "I miss you both so much when you're gone."

"Well, I missed you to, ma petite mère, but if you're sick, I don't think it has to do with Percy and me not being here." Armand studied her. She had always been a hair shorter than he was, but now she seemed much smaller. "Have you been eating? Maybe we should get something to eat." He said this casually, as it was a normal comment for him to make.

"Goodness, I think you and Percy are determined to make me quite plump," Marguerite said with a laugh. "No, no I can a rather sizable breakfast this morning and I'm sure it will be hours before I can manage another bite. Now, stop avoiding my questions and tell me about your trip."

Well that settled it. He had to tell her about the trip. 'Armand,' He told himself, 'There is only one thing to do in a situation like this. Lie as you've never lied before and pray she doesn't see through you.' "Well, you see, Margot, I really can't say anything about it. I've been sworn to secrecy." Well, that wasn't a lie.

"Sworn to secrecy?" Marguerite said, "Well, what sort of nonsense is that, you can't even tell your own sister about your trip. Come now, if Percy can stand to indulge me with the details of your journey." Marguerite began to tease him as they walked along before she noticed something was wrong, "Armand, why are you limping?"

"Percy, obviously, had a designated story for you, Marguerite. I apologize, but my lips are sealed. Let's just say, you'll like the surprise when you find out." Not too bad. He was sure she'd be pleased that Louise's parents were freed.

"A story? I've already heard about his adventures at the boot makers." she said with a hint of disgust in her voice.

But why was he limping? What had he told Hélène... thrown off? If he simply said, I got thrown from my horse, Marguerite would insist on him taking lessons. He made a face subconsciously.

"We were riding, and my horse was spooked. Threw me off, and I twisted my ankle. Lucky it didn't do more." Would she buy it?

"Thrown from your horse? well you should be walking around like this." Marguerite said, "Come, we should sit down and talk, and I want to see that ankle."

He didn't even panic this time, as she would have definitely seen there was no swelling or anything.

"Oh, there's no need, Marguerite. I've been to the *doctor* already. Percy *insisted*." He emphasized the words, giving her a meaningful look. "He said it was just a sprain, and it's only sore now. And believe me, despite what he may say, it had nothing to do with boots as far as I know. But, Marguerite..." Armand gave her a stern look. "You mustn't say anything about what I've told you. Percy would beat me within an inch of my life. I've been *there* before, and I don't have any desire to see *that* light again."

Marguerite paused and adjusted Armand's hair a bit, "Well, I'm glad he took you to a doctor, but I want to see that ankle anyway. More then once I had a doctor tell me you wouldn't live through the night, and we proved them wrong. Don't think you're getting out of this so easily." Marguerite said as she lead him into a parlor room. "Come, let's sit down for a while then."

Merde. There was no getting around her. He could downright refuse, but, knowing Marguerite, she would probably hit him over the head with a vase to see his ankle. He knew she would insist on seeing the ankle directly, which meant boots and stockings had to go. The leather of his boots masked the slight bulge that the bandages around his knee made. But the linen was painfully obvious, the white contrasting quite nicely with the black of his breeches.

He scowled slightly as she toyed with the queue he'd pulled his hair into. What could be expected of him bouncing around his room and falling down while trying to get dressed?

"Marguerite, really... I don’t see the need to look at it. The swelling's gone down. The doctor said it was fine. Besides," He gave her a little smile, "I don't see the harm in them predicting I'll be fine when before it was that I was going to die. It's a nice change from their normal prophecies, n'est-ce pas?"

"Oh, so now because I inquired to your health you're in such a sour mood that you won't even sit and speak to me." Marguerite said, visibly upset at his response to her suggestion. "Fine then, I'm sure there's someone else here at the manor that would sit and talk to me, keep me company while Percy changes."

Armand stared at her.

"Well, really, I said nothing of the sort. Simply, I don't want you to have a gander. It feels the way a recovering sprain should. Marguerite..." Armand's gaze turned from hurt to worried. "... are you sure you're all right? You don't seem yourself."

'Now she'll know how I feel, her not giving up on "ankle problem",' He thought.

Marguerite took his arm and led him towards the parlor. "I don't seem myself? Will, I suppose I'm not myself. No, I am the happiest I've been in nearly two months."

"Oh really?" He opened the door for her and stood back. She did not LOOK like she was very happy. But maybe the outward look of fatigue was a clever disguise. Either way, the junior St Just was unconvinced.

"What makes you so happy?" Armand bit his lip, which had curled in a sly grin. "Could it have anything to do with what I interrupted back there, with you and Percy?"

"Armand!" Marguerite said as she blushed, "well yes, it has everything to do with what you interrupted back there, and that's all you need to know little brother."

Now he laughed, good-naturedly at his sister's embarrassment. "I could have waited, Marguerite, and don't say I didn't offer." Oh he knew what they had been.... The boy was not THAT naïve. "Trust me, that's all I WANT to know."

"That's quite alright Armand, so we won't mention it any further. However, you continue to avoid my questions about your trip. All I know so far is that Percy wasted at least one day in a boot maker's shop and you were somehow thrown off a horse. Now honestly, you two were gone the better part of a week, surely there is something more you can tell me."

Well there was no avoiding it. He gave a loud groan. "Oh I know... that was ridiculous. All that time in there... Honestly. Sometimes he can be the biggest idiot in... well, just the biggest one in general." Still revealed nothing she didn't know. What the hell was he going to say??? 'Oh, we were just out and around, you know... scanning the country side'???????

"Armand" Marguerite said, "you shouldn't speak of Percy in such a way. He can be a little silly, a little eccentric, but you shouldn't use such words about your brother in law."

"I speak only the truth, Marguerite. But you know as well as I that he *is* a good man. Strong and brave. And loyal," He added, thoughtfully, feeling a flicker of pain in his leg from the wound.

Marguerite smiled and nodded, "Yes, yes he is a very good man. And you, little brother, are doing a very good job of avoiding my question."

"Well, I specialize in that sort of thing! Procrastination has always been something of a talent with me," Armand said, laughing. He was doing that for a reason.

"So I noticed. You two must have gotten into some terribly awful trouble if you won't tell your dear sister about your adventure." Marguerite said.

"Is it really that important?" Armand said. His palms were beginning to sweat. "I mean, if I told you, I might give away the surprise, Margot. Percy, at least would have the appropriate excuses." He gave her a wry grin, hoping she'd fall for his bluff.

"Yes it is that important Armand, why must you always be so difficult." Marguerite said, growing frustrated and feeling a bit put off by her brother. "I don't see why I'm even bothering anymore, it seems no one around here much cares for me or my feelings." Marguerite stood and began to walk towards the exit of the room.

Merde, not this again...! Leaping up and running (well, alright struggling up and gimping his way across the room).

"Marguerite, that's not fair! I promised Percy I'd keep quiet about it all. You can't expect me to break a promise, can you?" Was this working out better or worse than he'd thought?

"Considering the way in which Percy and I parted I highly doubt it," Marguerite sighed, "besides, it can not possibly be so secretive that you can't bare to spare one little detail of the trip."

Annoyed, was he? Yes.

"Why is it so important to you? All we did was go to Fr--" St Just broke off, abrupt and frantic. Merde! Had he said too much? "To..." He thought quickly, remembering a brief glance at a map of Scotland. "To Fraserburgh." It was a town on the north-east coast of Scotland. Armand allowed himself a sly grin.

"see now, was that so hard," Marguerite said as she stepped back towards to couch. "Now, since I've never been to this, Fraserburgh, you must tell me what it's like."

He remembered a description of a place in Scotland from a poem.

"There were green hills all around and lakes where the men fished..." He turned the poetry into prose, all the while hinting that it had to do with the "surprise". He felt ridiculous though. Lying like this.

"...Percy never really let on why we were in this tiny village in Scotland, but I suppose you'll find out. And Marguerite, don't tell him I said anything, or he'll kill me for sure."

"See now, it's not so hard to fill me in on some of the little minor details of your trip." Marguerite as she sat next to him and gently stroked his hair, "and I promise not to let onto Percy that he has a surprise in store for me, but this surprise doesn't have anything to do with a certain date coming up next week does it?"

He wasn't so stupid as to not remember it was his sister's birthday. "It miiiight...." He said slowly, another grin creeping across his face,

Marguerite laughed watching his reaction, "And there's no possibility even for the tiniest little hint?"

Vaguely, he thought to himself that he had no hints to give. His grin widened, and he shook his head.

"No hints," He said firmly. "I promised. Now tell ME what did YOU do while I was gone? Or were you doing secretive things, also?"

"Oh, I did plenty while you were away. A nice change from idling away here at the manor. I spent a day in town, frank escorted me, and I bought some supplies and welcome gifts for Helene and Louise. Oh, and another day the three of us went to town to buy some clothes for them and spent the day shopping. I actually even arranged for a new gown." Marguerite said, happy she actually had something to talk about.

If only she knew what he'd really done... His leg throbbed, reminding him. "Well that's good. It makes my time sound achingly dull." Armand flashed her a quick smile. "You... you haven't, by any chance, heard from Axelia, have you?" Her red hair, those crimson lips... God, he missed her!

Marguerite shook her head. "No, I haven't, but I did see some signs up for the MacBeth still. It seems like it is having a good run."

He glared sadly at his leg. No way he was riding a horse. He'd been in terrible pain the other night, riding back. The other night... had he really come back the night before? It had seemed like... ages since they'd been in France. "I should go visit her..." He mused, more to himself.

Marguerite smiled and tightly hugged her brother. "Oh, so my little brother Armand thinks he's in love does he. No doubt she'll want to see you since you left so suddenly a few days ago."

He gave a playful scowl. "Marguerite, I don't think. I know!" But he laughed, and hugged her quickly back. "I feel so guilty, but Percy insisted on immediate departure. What could I do? I'm sorry we left so quickly though, Marguerite. It can't have made you feel any better."

Marguerite sighed, "No, I hate it when you leave, but it's even worse to wake up in the morning and find that I am left all alone in the house."

"I have no excuse, no defense..." Armand chewed his lip. "I just hope Percy doesn't need me to do that again..."

"Well, at the very least a little notice would be appreciated." Marguerite said. "but next time you tell him to take me instead."

"I'll see what I can do about that," He teased lightly. "But in all honesty, Marguerite, I promise I'll wake you up before we leave next time." The boyish smirk flitted across his face, lighting up his fair skin and green eyes.

"You had better," Marguerite said teasingly, "or else I'll have no choice but to track both of you down and bring you home."

"Yeah, uh... well I think Percy might have something to say about that," He said, suddenly nervous. He didn't doubt she could do it, either.

"Well, that something had better be an invitation to come along. I'm tired of staying here at the manor. I get bored and lonely and had I known it would be like this I probably would have never of married Percy." Marguerite replied.

"And we'd probably be dead right now, too..." He said, before he had time to catch himself. "I mean..." Well he hadn't actually given anything away. "Marguerite you know how Chauvelin feels about... us. And all that power he has...." He quoted something he had read: "they hath said he were ambitious. if it be true it were a grievous fault and grievously hath he answered it." He wasn't the only one who had been reading Shakespeare.

"Chauvelin feels that way about me and he does so because I married and English aristo. Now no more of him. For the most part in France he left us in peace and had I not fallen in love and married Percy we would still be living peacefully in France."

"Peaceful? You call what they're doing peaceful? Blood fills the gutters of our country, and that's peaceful?" He shook his head, sadly. "No, Marguerite. We would not be living peacefully."

"And what has caused this sudden change in you Armand. You were not like this when we were still in France. If I remember the last week we were there you were rather excited over a rally you and your friends had gone to that included a bit of violence, and I know that wasn't the only time you were at such a thing."

"Feelings.... ideals change, Marguerite. It was honorable then... until I clearly saw what we were doing, and it's... horrible." He cast a slightly panicked look at his sister. "Surely you.... You don't approve of the murder that's going on there, do you?"

"Of course not Armand. Things are awful over in France, but they have been terrible for years. Now they kill aristocrats for being rich. they used to kill peasants for being poor. One day justice will come, we can only hope that that day will be soon."

How close she was to the truth. If only the League could free all the prisoners! Naturally, his sister had no idea he was one of those desired freedom fighters. Armand knew perfectly well that if she did know, she'd put a stop to it pretty quick. "It will come soon. I know it."

"I certainly hope so little brother." Marguerite said as she fussed over his hair.

"Aww come on... Do you have to do that?" He laughed. "I'm 17, Margot. Is a hair out of place? I didn’t think I looked like Percy... do I?"

"Yes and at 17 your hair should be straight. We might not have had the finest things in France but I thought I taught you to keep neat."

"Yes and at 17 your hair should be straight. We might not have had the finest things in France but I thought I taught you to keep neat."

Now was a moment for fun. Pulling away slightly, he quickly yanked his hair tie out and, tossing it aside, raked his fingers violently through his long, brown locks. The effect was somewhat.... ghastly on his young features. He looked like he hadn't brushed his hair....

In a while.

"Non, je suis desole, Marguerite. I didn't learn a thing!" He said, laughing.

Marguerite sighed watching Armand mess up his hair. She brushed her fingers through one of the locks, "Your hair looks so much like Papa’s did."

He opened his mouth to say something.... and shut it just as quickly. He had no memory of his parents. "Does it really?" He asked stupidly, sounding like a little child who was being offered a cookie.

Marguerite nodded her head. "Yes, it does. He had very dark, very curly hair, but it was usually hard to tell. He very rarely had it undone and it was combed back so tight it didn't appear so thick and curly."

"What was mama like?" He asked, softly. She had told him so many times. When they were little, she would tell him stories about their parents to make him go to sleep. He knew them all by heart now, but he loved to hear Marguerite tell them.

"Mama was a wonderful woman." Marguerite said, "She was very pretty, and kind. She had the most beautiful voice and loved to sing. I remember you would constantly beg her to sing to you, especially at night when you couldn't sleep."

He smiled wistfully. The ability to sing must have been a family trait. "I wish I could remember that. The only person I remember singing to me is you... and you stopped when I was about twelve." The younger St Just ran his fingers, less viciously, through his hair so that he could re-tie it. Truth was, lately he could have done with someone singing him to sleep. He yawned, turning away.

Marguerite sighed. "I'm sorry Armand, I thought you were somehow out growing it. If you had wanted me to sing, you know I would have if you had asked me to."

"You can make it up to me later...." He said, stifling another yawn. He leaned back. "I don't know why I didn't ask. I suppose I thought I was too mature to have my big sister sing to me." Armand's mouth quirked in a little smile. "Seems to be otherwise, doesn't it? Sometimes, at least."

"Alright then Armand, I will, but it seems as if you could use a little nap yourself. Why are you so tired today?"

Armand laughed. He might have slept almost 12 hours, but it hadn't even gotten rid of half the exhaustion of the last few days.

"oh, just coming home late... you know... Traveling and such can be so wearing. A man can't get a decent night of sleep." 'Especially when one's brother in law is digging around in your leg to fish out a bullet or two with a knife,' He thought wryly. "Another good night of sleep and I'll be ready to ride again, I'm sure. Speaking of which... how are the riding lesson going?"

"Oh very well Armand. Jonas has said he has never had such a fast learner for a pupil. Oh, but don't tell Percy yet, I still want to surprise him."

"Well, I'm not surprised. Anyone who could raise me would have to be a fast learner!" Armand thought briefly of the last few people who had asked him to keep secrets: Marguerite, Axelia (he resolved to visit her the next day), Percy.... Hell, even Chauvelin. He cringed. Luckily, there had been no permanent damage from all that writing the sadistic creep had made him do.

"Quick on their toes at the very least." Marguerite said with a sigh. He was such a troublesome boy growing up, she wondered if he would have been different had their parents been around longer.

"Well I know you, and a few others, would say differently, but... well, I wasn't such a bad child, was I?" He asked, innocently.

Marguerite shook her head, "No, Armand, you could be a handful at time, but you were not a bad boy growing up."

"Well that's good to know..." He said, breaking off in a yawn. "Excusez..." Armand stood up. "I do think I'm going to take you up on your suggestion though, Marguerite.... a little more sleep sounds like heaven."

"Oh yes of course," Marguerite said as she stood up as well. "I will see you to your room, perhaps then I will try and find Percy again."

He stood up and a sharp pang in his leg reminded him to be careful when walking. Armand thought wryly, that it was something like a conscience. And one he'd have to listen to.

"Will you walk, then, Lady Blakeney?" Armand said, offering her his arm as gallantly as possible.

Marguerite smiled and took his arm, "Unless you prefer to carry me, yes I will." Carefully, noting his slight limp, Marguerite walked with Armand towards his rooms.

He moved toward his sister, jokingly.

"Do you want me to carry you? I'm sure I could!" Armand laughed. He had no intention of even trying to pick up his sister, though both knew he could, easily. He wrapped his arm around Marguerite's waist, as if he were about to swing her up into the air.

"Armand!" Marguerite giggled, "don't even think on it, not on that ankle of yours!"

He laughed. "Ankle? What ankle? It feels fine!" He was lying. Well... not about the ankle. We all know his ankle was fine. His leg wasn't doing so good, but Armand disregarded that long enough to swing his sister around in a circle. "Well that was fun, wasn’t it?"

Marguerite gave a light screech and a laugh as Armand swung her around, "Enough Armand, enough, next thing we'll both topple over and have injured feet."

"You do have a point. Percy would have my head if I hurt you, I'm sure!" He winced slightly, realizing what he'd said. Oops.

Marguerite decided to let that comment go and instead make a joke of it, "NO, I'm sure he'd take your feet instead. Come now, let's get you to your room so you can rest."

"But Marguerite..." He said, innocently, following her to his room, "...without my feet, how would I walk?" Then he mused thoughtfully. "And without my head, how could I talk?" He gave a silly laugh, imitating Percy. "Oh sink me, it rhymes!" The phrase 'sink me' off a French tongue was rather comical, and St Just doubled over laughing at how stupid he sounded.

Marguerite giggled a bit at Armand's silliness. "Armand, are you sure you're so sleepy, or was that an excuse to be rid of your big sister?"

"Well, I *was*, but you just bring out the best in me, Margot!" He teased. Armand sobered a bit. "In all honesty though, I do think I should get some rest. I'll regret it if I don't, I'm sure."

"Of course," Marguerite said as she slowed down and walked with him to his room, "and I still want to take a quick peak at your ankle before I let you go off to sleep Armand."

The boy groaned. "You don't let go, do you?" Armand sighed. "A'right, a'right..." He opened the door to his room and sat down on the bed, pulling off the appropriate boot. Gritting his teeth as he unbuttoned his stocking, Armand pushed the bandages up his knee, completely under the garter of his breeches. "Ready?" Hopefully, she wouldn't see past the bluff.

Marguerite pulled a chair over and pulled his foot up onto her lap. Carefully she rubbed and looked over it, "I don't see why you were limping so hard before Armand. There's not a bruise, scrape, or bump on your foot."

"Well... uh..." Oh merde, what was he going to say NOW? "Does it have to have an outward sign of injury to hurt?" Dumb, dumb dumb!!!

"For the limp you have there ought to be some sign of injury. I hope this isn't some sort of trick Armand, because if it is, I do not find it very funny."

He put on his best innocent face. "Hey, it's me!” Armand pretended to look hurt. "I'm not pretending anything, Margot. My l-- ankle hurts like hell! Well okay, it didn't before. Then I did what I did, but that's my fault."

"Yes Armand I know it's you and that is why I am concerned." she said as she looked again at his ankle. Carefully she tried to get him to bend his knee to see if the problem was elsewhere in his leg.

That did it. Armand pulled away, standing, but only on one foot. "What the hell.... what do you think you're DOING?" He gasped. Sure, he could stand on it. But he hadn't worked that knee in a while. Doctor's orders. That's why the bandages were there. Armand winced as he gingerly tried to sit back down.

Marguerite stood to carefully help him sit down again, all the while snapping back at her little brother, "Armand don't you dare use that language or take that tone of voice with me. It's now quiet clear that it is not your ankle that is bothering you. Why did you lie to me?"

”I promised.

Marguerite gave Armand an odd look, "You promised what?" ARMAND "That I wouldn't tell. Anything." Simple enough. Obvious, definitely. -Armand-

Marguerite, enraged at his behavior push back her chair and went towards the door, flinging it open and slamming it behind, leaving her brother alone to 'sleep' if that was even what he planned on doing.

He was both relieved and annoyed. He was up, limping after her. The kid didn't know when to stop, did he? Probably not even if he was hit in the face with a sign that said it.

"Hey wait a minute, Marguerite St Just!" He'd only called her by her full name a couple times, usually when he was mad. "If I promised you something, something important, something that would cause the death of other people if the wrong person just *happened* to find out... If I promised silence, you wouldn't want me tell, would you?" He glared at her. "I didn't think so."

Marguerite turned to him in a huff. "You lied to me Armand, lied to me." she said, near tears, "I doubt something so important could have happened as Percy shopped for boots and I stayed here starving myself that you would have to lie to me about it."

"It's not *about* the boots, Marguerite!" Armand retorted. "So I told you I twisted my ankle instead of getting shot in the leg! Big... deal...." He clapped his hand to his mouth. Whoops.

Marguerite's eyes went wide open in shock as he finished, "You . .. you got shot in the leg. How did you get shot in the leg Armand? An why are you even up and moving about, you should be laying down. Back to your room, now, move."

"Do I even bother to say it...? I promised I wouldn't tell!" He said, emphatically. He *did* head back to his room though.

Marguerite followed Armand as he walked back to his room. "Fine then, but I want you to lay down and don't think I'll let you go without first having a look at that leg."

He sat down. "We went to the doctor, I told you. Do you really have to...?" He sighed and sat down. He must have looked pretty stupid, limping around with only one boot on. Carefully he unbuttoned the leg, so he could roll them up about halfway up his thigh. The leg was bandaged neatly, a slight pinkish tint indicating that a little blood had soaked through.

"Yes Armand I really have to. Do you think, after taking care of you for the last nine years I am simply going to give that up just because you're older." Marguerite said as she looked at the band aid. At least on the surface it looks like it was well tended to. "That bandage probably needs to be changed. I will do that, but after you rest." Marguerite said.

"No I guess you wouldn't," He said, glad she hadn't insisted on giving it a good look. He didn't feel up to having HER dig around in his leg either.

"But I do want to look at it when you change the bandage." Marguerite said, "but for mow you rest and take a nap."

"We just went last night...." Armand said, pulling off his other boot. "And Marguerite..." Armand added. "Don't say anything to Percy. He had nothing to do with this. I swear it."

Well all right, so it had been Percy who led them into Paris, Percy who came up with the plan, Percy who chose Armand to ride in and get the woman, Percy who told him how to do it and everything in between.

And it had been Armand who had agreed. Yup. Percy had nothing to do with it.

Marguerite eyed him suspiciously. "How exactly then did you hurt your leg Armand?" Marguerite asked.

He fidgeted. "I... I told you. I got shot."

"Yes little brother I know you got shot yet you have neglected to tell me how you got shot." Marguerite said.

He lowered his eyes. "With a gun," He said finally.

"Armand!" Marguerite snapped, "I could have guessed that much. I want to know exactly what happened."

He moved away from her and said, very quietly, very calmly, and completely serious: "You can want all you want but you aren't going to find it".

Marguerite's eyes blazed, "Armand, I asked you a question regarding your health and well being and I expect an answer."

Two pairs of bright green eyes, burning more furiously than a thousand bonfires, stared at each other. " I gave you one," He said, calmly. " I promised."*

"I want to know to whom you made this promise Armand, and why." she said back to him.

"To Percy, because he asked me." He crossed his arms defiantly.

"And why would Percy not want to let me know why you got hurt." she asked.

"Because you would get mad at him, that's why! Honestly, Margot, I'm fine! A little sore, but I'm fine! I'm not dead! I promised *you* I wouldn't die, remember?" He was getting *slightly* exasperated now.

Marguerite sighed and began to sob, "Armand do you have any idea how hard this is for me. You are the only family I've had for years and I love and care for you more then anything else in the world. How you would feel if I came home hurt, lied about it, told you something awful had happened to it but then would not explain how or why?"

"I'd try and believe them when they said they were fine! Please, Marguerite! Try and believe me! I am *not* your only family in the world anymore!" Armand fumed, gripping the bedspread. "Obviously he isn't, but would you be this concerned if it had been he who came home injured?"

"Armand of course I would be concerned for Percy if he came home injured and equally suspicious if he refused to explain it to me." Marguerite nearly snapped. "That's it, from now on, no more business trips with Percy unless I come as well. I do not care how pressing his business is I refuse to let you go if he plans to return you in this state."

"I'd try and believe them when they said they were fine! Please, Marguerite! Try and believe me! I am *not* your only family in the world anymore!" Armand fumed, gripping the bedspread. "Obviously he isn't, but would you be this concerned if it had been he who came home injured?"

"Armand of course I would be concerned for Percy if he came home injured and equally suspicious if he refused to explain it to me." Marguerite nearly snapped. "That's it, from now on, no more business trips with Percy unless I come as well. I do not care how pressing his business is I refuse to let you go if he plans to return you in this state."

"What...? No! You can't do that, Marguerite! Who do you think you are, my *mother*????" He stared at her, furious, the agitation stronger than the thought of what precisely he had just said.

Marguerite felt as if he had nearly ripped her heart. "Your mother? that is exactly who I think I am! I have been your mother and your father for the last nine years Armand. I gave up my childhood, and my chance at a real education for you. I spent days and nights working, cleaning theatres to get money to buy food for you, rummaging in alleys for clothes for you, I would stay up long nights nursing you when sick, or comforting you when you had nightmares after coming home late from working know I had to be up early the next morning to work again. I fought to keep you alive after being returned to me broken and beaten and told by a doctor that you would be lucky to live for another hour let alone even through the night. Since the time I was 11 I've been your mother and father and this is how you treat me?" she was crying and nearly screaming in angry and frustration as she spoke. Did he really not care that she worried so for him?

"My mother? My mother is...." He couldn't bring himself to screw the word 'dead'. He seemed almost blind to the fact that his sister seemed ready to collapse. "My mother is someone who would realize that neither I nor my brother intended to return me in.... 'this state'! You think I planned this? You think I like pain? Like having Percy dig around in the back of my leg with a knife, while I drink brandy in a vain attempt to numb the pain? You think I *liked* that?"

"A mother is someone who cares deeply for her family Armand." Marguerite snapped, "and why was Percy dig through your leg with a knife? I thought you said you saw a doctor?"

"I did." He bit out. "After."

"After," Marguerite said, "After is all you have to say to me. How much more after and why do you still refuse to tell me everything?"

" A day," Armand said shortly, glaring at her. "Maybe two. I don't remember. Not until we were back in England. Rural areas in Scotland tend to be lacking in surgeons," He said, sarcastically. No more facetious humor.

Marguerite continued to cry as Armand did not seem to care about her feelings. "Armand, have I done something wrong to you so that you don't even want to be honest with me anymore. We never kept secrets from each other before."

"Why is every single thing I do in my life your business? What if, by telling you, my life was at risk? Would you still insist on knowing every damn detail of my life?"

Marguerite wiped her eyes a bit as she stood up to move around a bit, unable to sit still anymore, "No Armand I don't have to know every detail but I do have to know when your life is in . . ." Marguerite was cut of as she let out a painful scream and wrapped her arms a bit around herself. A sudden painful crap hit her stomach and she had to lean on a piece of furniture for support as she felt her own body grow week.

"Oh my god..." Armand winced, jumped up barefoot. "Marguerite!" He did what he could to support her. Her weight was centered on the bureau, but he shifted it to his own shoulders, moving her towards the bed.

Marguerite did not fight as she felt Armand attempt to support her weight. She carefully put her arm around her and moved her feet along with him until he had brought her closer to the bed.

"Here.... rest, Margot..." Armand helped her sit. "Where does it hurt? Shall I fetch Percy?" He peered into her eyes, concerned. His arm around her helped her to sit up.

Marguerite sat gently on the bed and nodded her head, "Yes, yes, please send for Percy." she whispered.

"Just wait... I'll be back in a minute..." He helped her lie against the pillows then stood carefully and hurried-- well, hobbled quickly-- to find Frank.

Frank had been down the hall attending to something when he heard Marguerite scream. Rushing towards the sound he almost crashed into Armand. "Armand? What is going on?"

"Frank, thank god... Lady Blakeney has collapsed... she's asking for Sir Percy. Please, could you fetch him for Lady Blakeney?"

"She collapsed?? Yes of course, I'll get Percy." With that Frank dashed off towards the study to fetch Percy.

Looking over the draw-ups he had made, or had made for him, Blakeney bit his tongue in deep concentration. Eyes scanning, his pale lips separated and then met and re-met each other many times, as if speaking to ones that were not present. Planning time.

Why he could not find the Comte de Tournay, Percy was not sure. As he sat down on the velvet footstool, his hand reached up and clutched at the blonde locks. The muttering to himself continued while his index finger traced through the tunnels and corridors back and forth obsessively. The English Baronet could not understand where they kept the old man during his last 'visit'.

At first, Blakeney did not hear the raps, for his own finger tippity- tap-tap-tapped at the scrolled make-shift map. When his brain finally concluded he was no longer in seclusion, keeping his head tilted downward, his blues snapped up deep into his socket and burned an imaginary hole into the doorway.

"Who calls?" Sir Percy finally asked, putting a yawning voice towards the door. Ready to fold the map and hide it in a drawer, Blakeney lifted himself half way off the footstool, ready to dash about if needed.

Near frantic with nerves Frank hollered through the door. "Percy, it's Frank. Come quickly, it's Marguerite."

Rolling his eyes, he wondered what crisis was occurring now. "Hold up." He answered sharply now, and relaxed while neatly folding the map. Locking it in his upper desk drawer, Percy made way to the door and opened it. "What is it now? Is my absence from her curling the very blood in her veins, making a lack of suction to my side intolerable?"

"Percy, listen to me! She collapsed. Now come with me." Frank was normally not so terse, but the situation demanded it.

"Collapsed? Good Lord!" Locking the door behind him in haste, Blakeney followed Frank at a steady pace. He did not ask any questions, too afraid of the answers really. It was best, as always when introduced to a new situation, to keep your mouth shut and your eyes and ears open. Information would come to him. It always did.

"Percy, I'm not sure what's wrong with her but she it can't be good." Frank said nervously as they made their down the hall. Knocking on the door lightly Frank put his hand on the knob and waited. "Armand? Lady Blakeney?"

Marguerite's head popped up a bit when she heard the knock. It was Frank and hopefully that meant Percy was near as well> "Frank," she called, "Frank please come in."

Opening the door slowly Frank turned his head to glance at Percy before he entered. "Marguerite... what happened? Can I get you anything?"

Marguerite perked up a bit as Frank entered the room. "Percy. Where's Percy, Frank? Would you just bring him here for me?"

'Well it's about time,' He thought. He couldn't figure out what could have possibly stalled Percy and Frank. What could Percy possibly have against his wife *now*?

Armand stood as Frank entered, giving Marguerite's hand a squeeze. He saw Percy ... did he seem to hesitate outside the door? The kid limped over to him.

"I don't know what happened... we were arguing and she just... She's asking for you, Percy... please."

The Baronet stood there in his fine coat and light blue silk stockings, unsure of what to make of the three people before him. Two had pledged their loyalty to him, and proven it time and time again. Since that was the case, why did the man deemed the Scarlet Pimpernel have doubts about them whenever Marguerite was about?

Armand pled to him, resulting in Sir Percy stepping in the room and moving unsuredly towards his wife. Squatting down, his lazy blues looked into the pained, green eyes. It hit him the same time he began to speak. The reason he worried about The League around Lady Blakeney was simple enough: She played him for quite a few stanzas, even when he was on the sharpest of lookouts. With enough wearing down, he fell victim to her; who's to say what she could do with untrained and weaker minds. Nodding once, for in his head was held the answer he sought, the tall Englishman asked softly, "What ails you today?" His gloved hand rested gently next to her head, but he did not reach out to comfort her.

Marguerite reached up and pulled his hand closer to her, letting it brush against her cheek. "Oh Percy, Percy, I'm fine, I just got a little up set and it proved too much for me." She looked up and noted that Armand and Frank were still there, and she felt she needed to speak to Percy. "Percy, perhaps we can go somewhere and speak for a while. I want to allow Armand to take the nap he wanted. I think some fresh air would do me some good right now."

Glancing over at Armand, he knew the boy had been limping and wondered if that is what this was about. Marguerite wanting Armand to take a nap? It was like some sick or twisted motherly instinct, he guessed. Percy had seen her fuss over him more often than not and was not sure he wished so soon to be left alone with her.

It was with a lost look that he turned his head to gaze upon Frank and Armand. Both seemed to have every intention of leaving him to the responsibility he married into months before. With a defeated sort of nod, Sir Percy did his best at showing good spirits. "As you wish." He smiled and stood, the gentleman in him helping her up.

Marguerite stood carefully with Percy's help. putting on arm gently around him and leaned on him a bit for support. Carefully they stepped towards the door, but Marguerite spoke to Armand before leaving. "Armand, I want you to rest now and no more bouncing about until you leg heals."

She knew and he felt his body wish to stiffen, but resisted. Instead, he stole the fastest of glances at Armand. Part quizzical and part angry. Marguerite should not be left alone with them, and their flapping jaws! As soon as it came, the angered look left and stupid Sir Percy quietly helped his wife along.

His involvement in knowledge of Armand's leg, he was not sure. Best to remain ignorant for now, for suredly Lady Blakeney would inform him or accuse. Had his ears been spared from it all, he could ask the boy later, under private quarters.

He cast a glance at Percy as if to say, begging, pleadingly, "Do *something*!" then he nodded. Bouncing, was he? H'm. That was news. "I think that is an excellent idea," He said softly to his sister, then addressed his brother in law directly. "I, ah... need to talk to you when you have a moment, Percy."

He gave a single nod, hearing Armand. By the stammering, it appeared Armand was guilty as he predicted to the claws of the vixen. No matter, whatever her brother had to say would not matter. He himself was being led away from all to fend for himself in the she-wolf's lair.

Marguerite walked carefully with Percy until they reached the front area. she sat down in a comfortable seat and waited for him to sit down besides her before continuing. She took one of his hands and wrapped both of her hands gently around it.

As they walked quietly along, given her comments intermixed with Armand's, Blakeney already began his mind churning for the lie that would give just enough, but not contradicting anything Armand might have said. This was no easy task, and keeping to the basic details was very important.

He sat down, and Marguerite did not disappoint. No sooner had he reached behind him to flip out the tails of his fine coat, did the vixen start in on him in her sweet approach. He nearly detested her touching his hands, but restrained the urge to pull back.

"Percy, I know what happened to Armand, that's what I got all worked up over. Now, I know you did not want me to know about it, so don't blame Armand for telling me because I sort of forced it out of him, but I just want to know what happened to him."

He sat still for a bit, finalizing the lie in his brain. Outwardly, he looked like a slow, dimmed man working hard to form a sentence. "I'm not sure really...." He glanced up looking rather embarrassed at Marguerite. "You see... when it all happened.. there was this sound, like something crying I think." Percy reached up and rubbed his temple, and glanced at her with fear in his eyes. "I never have been a man of pistols... or any weapons of that sort. You would have to ask Armand if I.... how does a man say? 'Became weak in the knees.' I think I did not fall, for I don't remember see. They said later I turned white as a ghost, but I forgot to ask if I actually fainted or just stood there stupefied by the shot."

He brought out his handkerchief and dabbed his forehead quickly. "I had rather wished you wouldn't find out...... I don't remember much details other than the fear...."

"But even where you were, what you were doing before it happened. Percy, after all Armand and I went through in Paris, I thought he would be safe here, and safe with you. And then you go off and together and he returns with a bullet hole in his leg, it's almost too much for me."

No reaction from her. Not a word did she say about how he felt or said for the whole affair. It was enough to drive a man mad. Was she not just as good of an audience as the next person? Was he so horrible in his actions when put against the likes of her? Blakeney did not know.

"I guess," he stammered, Sir Percy still in character, "just standing." Dabbing his upper lip, he glanced down and away from her, to complete and scene.

Percy clearly did not want to speak of what happened, and Marguerite was not about to ruin what so far had been a pleasant reunion by picking an argument. Instead she softly moved closer and put her arms around Percy's neck and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Alright then," she whispered softly, "but I think it would be best if Armand were to stay home for a while, at least until his leg heels. And thank you Percy, for taking care of him."

"As you wish," he said with a nod. As an after though, Blakeney added, "You are welcome." At the moment, he had no plans of dragging Armand around to any country with the condition of his leg. His mind floated over to the Comte de Tournay. Was the man alive during this very moment?

Marguerite smiled as he acknowledged what she had said but at the same time felt he was a bit distant. She moved her legs gently up to rest across his lap as she let her nose brush against his cheek. "What are you thinking Percy?" she whispered softly to him.

"Mmmmmmm eh? Oh. Nothing of importance my dear." He gestured to the air and took a few steps towards the nearest window. "I suppose wondering if there is anything I can do to fashionablize that bandage of your brother's. I feel damn awkward, having not helped him so with it... I suppose really since its hidden, best not to bring more attention to the thing by means of tie or colored wrap." Slowly, Blakeney began to wonder if he had spent too much time up here at the manor. Perhaps it would do him well to go back to France, except this time, alone.

"Armand has never cared so much for his appearance." Marguerite said, "I usually had to fight him just to run a comb through his hair." She stood and followed him as he moved about, finally coming behind him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Are you feeling alright Percy? You seem a little quiet."

The sickened feeling drew up in his soul for a moment and Sir Percy quickly collected himself. "No more quiet than a field mouse on a hot day." He turned and smiled at Marguerite, as if that mere statement explained it all.

Marguerite smiled and drew closer to rest her head on his shoulder. "I always have the feeling that you're so lost, deep in thought when you grow quiet like this, as if you're working out some grand scheme, some fantastic plans of sort. I often wonder what you think about in times like this."

"Why yes..." he stammered with a bit of surprise. "How, how could you tell?" Glancing down at her hair, Blakeney could smell her light scent and it was driving him near mad. Oh such turbulent times! Continuing on he released, "The ball is tomorrow, however I wish to don my powder blue suit and today I haven't those demmed socks that I needed. Today is almost done, and tomorrow is going to be dreadfully busy tidying up and all. The idea of slipping in socks to a schedule or changing a whole attire certainly is putting a damper on this affair. I mean, I'm not sure quite how to pull this one off. Damn Frederick and George! Normally I handle these situations rather well but this one is giving me more trouble than normal!"

Marguerite giggled and put her arms around him, "Oh how I missed you Percy, but you must have misunderstood me this morning. I didn't say the ball was the next day, it's near a week away. No doubt you'll have plenty of time to take care of your socks before then." She hugged him tighter and rest her head against his chest, "I miss the way you make me laugh."

Perhaps it was not the best attempt he had made at telling her a large tale. The ball was one week away? Bah, with all the traveling he did, who could honestly keep track of social schedules while at the same time giving precision plans to smuggle bodies out of France. He cursed himself for messing up, however a smarter person would have been reminded that no man could be so perfect. Blakeney, however, was more stubborn that smart when his ego clouded the path.

"Yes. Us silly Englishmen certainly have a way with things, whot?" He returned the hug, for fear of being cornered again with questions if he did not and stood there, his mind actually shifting over to an attire for the ball. "What about the light purple suit? A bit less fancy than the blue. The borders are a darker version and less ornate in design. The Prince should out dazzle everyone at his own ball and even I could, for one night, at least come down to his level and give him the opportunity to shine." He looked down at her and his lazy lids blinked.

"How noble of you, dressing down so you would not outshine the host." Marguerite said with a giggle, "Well, if it matters to you, since I'm sure you would want to avoid clashing, I am wearing a lovely dark green gown. I picked fabric that would go well with the emeralds and rubies you gave me. After all, my first public appearance since our own ball, I plan on showing off the lovely gifts from my loving husband."

"Then to hell with George. I think in a week's time I could have Master Tweedle whip up something dark green. I've already been seen in my emerald suit, so a new ensemble would do me well. Dark green you say? Hmmm. But no. Damn me again. It would be awkwardly close to the other. Perhaps something by means of a ruby or silver. Certainly I can't be outdone by both the Prince and my wife."

"Maybe I should take you down to your tailors then. I'll have you try on suits and model them for me." Marguerite said with a laugh, gently teasing Percy.

"Tis something I would hear about it for weeks on end. Ghastly thought." He shook his head and sat lazily in a nearby chair.

Marguerite followed Percy and slid herself onto his lap as he sat down. No doubt her light, frail body was of little burden on him, "And why not Percy, or would it be considered unthinkable that a wife would take interest in her husband's affairs. After all, I do remember a time when you wish me to model clothes for you."

"It would be considered unthinkable for a wife to be involved in such affairs, however, if we both made a day of it tomorrow or the day after, looking for you as well, I think we could get by." Blakeney knew there was no way to win in this situation. Better to give in where he could, for once he had to leave England, she could not follow.

"So then, my dear milord, you may honor me with the opportunity to escort you to your tailors on the condition that additions to mine were made as well. I suppose that's an arrangement I could accept." Marguerite happily said with a giggle before placing a soft kiss on his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I would after all, enjoy looking after my husband, and I hope he does not mind looking after me as well."

He sighed a bit of relief, hearing her finally give in. Percy-1 / Marguerite-Too many for one brain to remember. As the she- fox clung on him again, he gently patted her arm and smiled a little stoutly. "Not at all my dear. Proper arrangement indeed." The tall semi-victor Englishman offered her his arm. "Now then, shall we go for a stroll?" With any luck, in her weakened condition, a long stroll would tire Lady Blakeney into an extended nap.

"A stroll sounds lovely, but I do feel a bit tired, perhaps I will just sit out here and enjoy the fresh breeze. I am sure thought that you will want to check about the manor, being I would doubt you've done so since you've been back. Would it upset you if I declined to join you now and perhaps see you again at dinner this evening?" Marguerite answer.

Music to his ears. "I will somehow manage Milady." He stood, careful to ease her off his lap, nodded and gave her a formal bow. Caught inside his head where his ego was bruised, but his mind relieved, Blakeney shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled towards the back of the Manor. Surely he could, at least, find the little ones about for a bit of sport.

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