Dinner with the Prince

"Well, I'm so glad you're getting along. So tell me, how did you travel to the north? Did you take a carriage or sail up the coast?"

Well, NOW he was in a spot. Thinking quickly, he said the first thing that came to his mind: "We sailed up the coast." And, it was somewhat true. They HAD sailed the coast, though not necessarily the coast of England. "We took the Day Dream." Armand smiled. "She's a beautiful boat, just as Percy said she was. So... where shall we sit while we wait for the Prince and Percy to finish their game?"

"Oh, let's not stay in here, let's move to the parlor down the hall." Marguerite said, as she stood up to go, taking hold of the two gift boxes as she left. "So, Percy has told me very little of the trip North, so I must rely on you to fill in the gaps. Come now, I must hear everything you two did."

He felt sick. Here's where he would have to lie... and lie like he'd never lied before. Marguerite had a special talent for guessing when he was lying, so, when he was younger, and said he'd done his homework and really hadn't, twenty seconds later, she had him rooting through his school bag, looking for papers and texts.

"Well, uh..." He shut up for a bit and tried to think without using fill ins, usually a dead giveaway when he was trying to think up some really good lie. "We sailed North for about a day at first, so all that we saw for a long while was the coastline. It's foggy and you can see very little most of the time. But there was green in some spots, on the hills and such, and the cliffs are craggy and sheer, hundreds of feet tall." Armand racked his brain for anything to say... why hadn't he paid more attention in geography class? He realized that it wasn't totally his fault that he didn’t know more about England... his teachers didn't teach much about England, and though they all agreed that it was important to know about their neighboring countries, they skimmed over England in three days. And there was not a book in the school library that would help him. Not that he had known he was going to have to be lying like this.

"We visited a town... I never actually learned the name... Something-shire, I think... where Percy conducted some business and I walked around... then we sailed back south again, and that was when we were in London, and other areas around there. I followed Percy about the city because he wished me to see all the fine places...." He cocked his head at Marguerite innocently. "Didn’t he show you any of these places before you came here?' He asked, knowing full well that he had not.

"Oh no Armand, Percy and I spent our honeymoon on the south shore and then traveled straight to Richmond." Marguerite smiled, "Well, I'll just have to insist next time he leaves, even for business, he'll have to take me around and show me the sights." She started to smile again, so happy to be with Armand, but she stopped herself and lowered her hands across her stomach. "Hmm, it seems that something from that dinner is not sitting well with my stomach."

Frowning, Armand put a hand on her shoulder. "Do you want to lie down? I can help you upstairs and you can lie down for a few minutes." Was she getting sick again? He bit his lip, thinking the worst....

"Oh no Armand, that's alright." she remarked as she took the hand he had placed on her shoulder in her own hands. "I just think I'm not adjusting to the change in climate so well, these stomach and headaches. Don't worry, I'll be fine by the time Percy and the Prince rejoin us."

Shrugging skeptically, Armand cast a glance over his sister. "Well, all right, if you are sure about it." He took his hand back. "How long have you been having these problems?"

Marguerite folder her hands in her lap and looked down. "Since not long after I arrived in England." she said quietly. "I'm sure it's nothing Armand. It's the change in the weather here in England I'm sure." She lied, but she was always better at lying to him then he was to her

"You should see a doctor, Margot. It may be something serious. I don’t know if weather does this for this long." His green eyes met hers. "Please."

"Armand, I've only been here less then two weeks. I just need a little more time, and being away from Percy for that first week sort of made the change difficult. Since you two have returned I've already begun to feel better." Marguerite gave him a sweet smile, hoping he would let the issue of her health go. As a child she had several severe health problems and nearly died of an inflection when she was very young. As she got older, she grew out of her frequent bouts. Her flu a few weeks prior was a rare exception, and she refused to believe that so soon she would be getting sick again.

"But what if, by some chance, it IS some thing bad? I still think you should see a--" He stopped, seeing her face. Then he shrugged. "Well, fine then! But if you get sicker and need help, just remember I told you so!" It was a snide, childish remark, but he was worried that her childhood might come back to haunt them. And what if she died? He didn't know what to do without her... For years, it had been just them, and now Percy had joined them. Percy. It would kill him, too, if she died....

Armand forced the thoughts away. He always assumed the worst.

Armand's remark brought a tear to her eye. She gently reached up and cradled his face in her hands, "I want to hear none of this nonsense little brother. I don't want you to dare think such awful thoughts. If I was sick then I would see a doctor, but I've already told you I'm getting better, not worse."

He kissed her on the forehead. "I know... I'm sorry I said that. I'm just worried, that's all. You know me-- I always expect the worst before the best." He grinned guiltily at her. "So... how long are those boys going to play cards, I wonder?"

"I don't know, and if gives me more time to catch up with you I don't mind." Marguerite said. "So, tell me, how was the show the other night at the theatre?"

"Oh Margot... I wish that you could have been there... Amelia was wonderful! I wish you could have been there. That Shakespeare fellow writes very well! It said in the program that he was an English writer... Probably why you never performed any of his plays, but, mon dieu! She was perfect!" He had completely forgotten about his previous topic and was now waving his arms about with every other word.

Marguerite couldn't help but to laugh. "Goodness Armand, I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. I wish you had gotten so excited about my performances."

He opened his mouth to protest. "Well, I was, it's just that... I... I wasn't..." The words came fast, almost too fast for him to say them: "Iwasn'tinlovewithyou!" He clapped his hand over his mouth and blushed a brilliant shade of red. "Did I ... say that out loud?" He grinned a little at Marguerite.

Marguerite smiled and pulled Armand's hand away from his face and into her own. "So my little Armand has found his first love." Marguerite giggled. "Oh my sweet Armand, first love is such a wonderful thing" she said as she hugged her little brother, "But you better be careful, I don't want any young ladies break my brother's tender heart."

To this he scowled. "I'm not tender!" He protested.

"Oh my Armand, when in love we all become tender, we all become vulnerable to those we love." Marguerite bit her lip at her own words. Had she become too tender with Percy? Had she too quickly allowed herself to be taken into a life she could not accept. What nonsense she thought as she pushed that idea out of her mind. Just look at tonight when he presented her with the jewels he had picked out of his trip for her and how gently he treated her when presenting them to her, even kissing her in the presence of George and Armand.

"I love Axelia. I just... I'm worried about her. This whole thing with the citizen has both of us a little scared. That night of Percy's ball, in the garden... I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't been there when I was.... She's already been hurt by him, and I will kill the man if I have to, just to make her safe!"

"I know you're worried about her Armand. Have you checked to see how secure the home is now? If it is not in a good area, help her find someplace else to live. And see that others are around and can come to her aid if needed. I'm sure now that she is in town though, she will be much safer."

"She has a roommate, but... Marguerite, he found her in town! The note was on her door!" Armand panicked. "I've done everything I can... I don't know what else to do. He found her here, he found her there... he'll find here EVERYWHERE! I don't know what else I can do." He sighed.

"Well, we'll have to see, but do you even know who this man is? You called him citizen but you also can carry that same title Armand. “If he is such a threat she can complain to the authorities and they can watch for him. She should also arrange for someone to walk home with her. I'm sure soon enough this so called citizen will leave her in peace."

Annoyed, Armand shot her a glare. "I do not carry that title anymore. It's not even a title. I have no title. I'm just Armand. You're the only one of us who has a title now, Lady Blakeney!" He said, a little sharply. He wondered what Marguerite would think if she knew what her citizen" brother had done three nights before. "And I call him 'citizen' because she does. He is a Republican. An Agent. Like Chauvelin!" He spat the man's name like a curse.

"Well, obviously she doesn't trust the authorities. I don't know why, but if she didn’t object, I don't see why she hasn't yet. And Marguerite, I honestly don't think that just because those Englishmen are looking after her he will leave her alone. He's hurt her before when she was alone, and he almost did it again... when there were MANY people here, too! I don't think it will make a difference."

Marguerite nearly jumped at his name. She slid away from Armand and turned her head. All those memories, all those awful memories came flooding back to her, "Armand, please, whatever you do, please just do not say that name to me, ever again."

He set his jaw stubbornly and said nothing. Then: "Why are you so afraid of the name? And here, especially. There is nothing HE can do to you here! England is safe!"

"Oh Armand there is so much more about Armand Chauvelin that you could not even imagine. I could not even bare to tell you everything now, I would not even know where to start, but I will tell you this, he hurt me, what he did to me was worse then anyone else had ever done before. He's not in England now, but he's still here," she continued, pointing towards her head, "I just do not even want to think about him anymore."

"Yes, well, before you manage to forget about him, please: can you at least tell me what was so terrible that he did to YOU personally- besides order the executions of thousands and things like that- that I don't know about?" Armand was getting a little tired of this conversation. Hadn't they already had it before? She hadn't told him everything THEN...

Marguerite took in a deep breath. She supposed it was only right that he knew the whole truth. She got up and checked the hallway first to make sure Percy and the Prince were still hidden away in one of Percy's card rooms. She rejoined Armand on the couch and took one of his hands and gave it a tight squeeze. "You must promise me first, promise that you will never, ever breath a word of this to anyone, especially to Percy."

Promise never to tell Percy? Why would Percy NOT know this? He was her husband.... he had a right to know everything too.... So why? Shaking his head slightly, he took one of her hands and linked his little finger with hers. "I promise."

Marguerite took another deep breath before beginning her tale. "I already told you about the St. Cyrs, but our past goes farther back then that. I meet Armand Chauvelin several years ago, when much of the outrage and the revolution was beginning. I did not bring him by the flat, so you never meet him personally, but he and I did have, relations, of sorts, the specific details of which are none of your concern. This of course was when his influence was just beginning to grow. Although, as time went on, especially once the Committee was form and so forth, things between the two of us changed, and in short I broke off our relationship, although we still saw each other. He attended many salons and gatherings, as did I, he attended performances at the theatre and on occasion he would, I am convinced, go out of his way to seek me out. I told him to stay away, and I had no interest in him, but he wouldn't. He had a way of finding me out, and getting to me. Now, he never physically hurt me, or threatened me, but my most recent and dominate memories of him or very unpleasant and if I could wipe them from my memory I gladly would."

"What did he want you for? I don't understand." Then he realized something. "You two were...?" He didn't say it. "I never thought.... Marguerite, how could you? I never imagined...! And you know how mad I was when you told me about Percy! Mon dieu! If it had been Chauvelin...." He wasn't mad. He was shocked. Armand never thought his sister had been so... close to Chauvelin.

"Now now Armand," Marguerite said, keeping her voice low and hoping he would do the same, "Yes, it's true, but that was several years ago. Well before he was the man his reputation claims him to be, well before you and many other people had ever heard of him."

"That night, when Percy took us to dinner... What did the Agent want?"

"He believed I knew things, or at least heard things. He was looking for information about the Marquis, information I foolishly gave to him several days later. I knew he was cunning, I knew he was sly, but I never thought he'd lie to me."

"I would have," Armand muttered to himself. Then he swallowed. "Sorry. I... I won't say anything about it anymore." He glanced up. "Oh, isn't that Percy and the Prince?"

Marguerite dashed up and rushed to the doorway to peak down the hall. It was empty save for one or two servants crossing back and forth. She breathed a sigh of relief and rejoined Armand on the couch. "The hallway is clear." she stated plainly. "Back in France, Chauvelin confided in me, told me things. I learned a lot about things going on in the Revolution that most people didn't know. He always trusted me, so I trusted him. I should have known though, after we, after I ended it, he changed a bit towards me. I assumed it was always just a bit of anger for ending it, maybe it was more."

"But that family's blood is on your hands!" Armand exclaimed softly. "I mean, you know I was never fond of them after he--" Armand gritted his teeth, remembering how that damned marquis had his laqueys thrash him, nearly to death... He was but fourteen at the time, and wanted revenge... Revenge that Marguerite had satisfied. If they hadn't been like the others--innocent only of being aristos-- he wouldn't be feeling the guilt that crept into his stomach now.

"--After he... did what he did. But still... now it looks as though YOU dropped the blade.... If I ever get near enough to Chauvelin to strangle him with that damned sash of his, mon dieu! I will!"

Marguerite put her hands firmly on Armand's shoulders and forced him to stay down. "Armand you will do nothing of the sort do you hear me? You stay away from him and the likes of him." She let go of his shoulders only to wrap her brother in a strong hug, "Oh I am so glad you are here in England, I would worry so much about you if you were in Paris by yourself. If I had known he was lying I never would have done that. Too many innocent people have died. The Marquis was wrong, for what he was doing. I did not denounce him because of what he did to you, and those children did not deserve to die. Oh, and there's so much more about happened that I can't even begin to tell you. Perhaps when you're older you'll understand, but for now, this is all I can bare to say."

"When I'm older? I'm seventeen! I'll be eighteen in three months. I'm not a little kid anymore, Margot." He wasn't yelling. He was just a little annoyed that everyone, from Chauvelin to the Prince of Wales treated him like a four-year-old. He sighed. "And I am going to kill him. He deserves to die, just as he killed all those other people," Armand muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

"Shhhh!" Marguerite said trying to keep him calm. "Armand, one day you will understand this, all of this. Ask me years from now and I will explain everything to you, but not now. Now it's too much, and it's too soon." She gently placed her hands on his cheeks and forced him to look her in the eyes. "And as for Chauvelin, one day he will get what he deserves, but that's not for you to concern yourself with. I want you to promise me, promise me right now, that you will stay away from him."

Armand shook his head and stood up. He shoved his hands in his pockets and said, softly, dangerously, and a hell of a lot more bravely than he felt, "I can't promise that, Marguerite. He'll get what he deserves, all right, and he'll get it from me." Marguerite jumped up, "Yes you can and yes you will. Armand, you must promise me that you will stay away from him. Don't you see, this is what our revolution has become. It's not about freedom, and brotherhood, and liberty anymore, it's about hate and revenge. Promise me when you go back to France you will stay out of such danger. I don't know what I would do if something every happened to you and I would never be able to forgive myself if you did go after Chauvelin." Marguerite felt a lump grow in her throat and swallowed hard to chock back the tears.

"I told you, I can't promise that, Margot. The Revolution is about hate and revenge, yes, that is why it is only appropriate for Chauvelin to die from it!" He was speaking with such passion that he was getting frightened of what he was saying. But he vowed that the next time he was in France with Percy, he would kill the Agent. Shoot him. Cut his throat. Something. He didn't know how. But he would.

"Listen to me," He said, softly. "I won't die."

Marguerite was having trouble holding back tears as she looked pleadingly at her brother, "Yes you can Armand, all you have to do is say 'I promise.' It's that simple. Just look at me and say 'I promise I won't go after Chauvelin.' He'll get what he deserves, but it is not your place to do that. There are many others that have that right before you anyway, people he has personally wronged."

"But you see, Marguerite, I can't promise that. I told you. When you hurt my sister, you hurt me. But I told you: I won't die."

Marguerite paused to catch her breath and as she did, she caught site of the wedding ban on her finger. "As for me, I've already taken gotten my revenge." She smiled to herself. She knew that following her heart to England hurt him more then anything else she could have done.

Now that was interesting. What on earth could she mean? "And how is that, Marguerite?"

"I told you Chauvelin and I had a past, and although I broke it off, I'm not sure he could ever really let go. By following my heart, getting married and coming here, I think that wound is more painfully then a knife through the heart. I found happiness, and I found it without him."

Armand gave a semi-satisfied smirk. "Well, I'm glad to hear that, but it still doesn't make up for what he did to you."

"But it is enough for me Armand. I don't care about him anymore, I just want to move on and forget him." Marguerite smiled at Armand, "Please, promise me you'll be careful."

"That," Armand said, wryly, "I can do. I swear to you," He took a breath, "I won't die."

"Would you stop saying that! I will have no more of this talk of dying. You'll stay here in England, with me and Percy, and you'll stay safe, and then you wouldn't die because then Chauvelin and the French Army CAN'T KILL YOU." Marguerite took in a deep breath. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a firm hug.

Speechless, Armand hugged her back. "I... I'm sorry...."

(meanwhile in the card room) Blakeney grinned and nodded to Marguerite as she kissed his cheek again. A man could not think straight with her power loomming over him so. "Come on George. Don't think you are going to win all that easily. In case you forget, not many have bested me at cards."

He moved out of the dinning hall and towards the back of the house where his private gaming room lay. The front rooms, occasionally used for cards, were more for receiving guests at parties. Back here, Blakeney had out all the things he needed at his fingertips. They had to pass through the grand library to get to it.

"So what will it be tonight Sire? Cribbage? A little Hat of Spades?" He smiled and turned to view His Highness. Blakeney needed a little down time from this whole rescuing business. Between the Helene rescue and his most recent honeymoon, why, time alone and with other male friends just seemed to disappear.

"Preferably something mildly amusing that doesn't require great amounts of concentration. Otherwise you'd be set to win! For some reason I find myself preoccupied this evening, although with what I cannot quite discern. Or maybe my feelings are hurt that I did not receive any jewlery..." George smiled as he removed his jacket and laid it across the back of a chair. It was good to be in the company of friends.

Blakeney observed the Prince and his words. "You do seem rather preoccupied Sire. Why, I was just going to comment, if ever I saw Your Highness preoccupied, this was it. I almost don't feel right in playing with you. If I win, it certainly will be my good looks distracting you, hmmm?" Sir Percy joked and began to deal the cards. A simple game called Hat of Spades. Better to keep it simple card wise and see what he could get from the other man verbally.

George rolled his eyes obviously and sighed. " Oh YES Percival-you are all together too dashing for words." he exaggerated.

"So tell me Sire, what bogs down your mind this evening? I have to share, I had a most dreadful time with the stable boy earlier this evening. I say, confrontations like that I can do without!" Blakeney glanced down at his hand and held in his grin. As much as he wanted to let out a victorious laugh and let Sir Percy boast over the hand, he held it in. There were things on his mind, and things not on his mind, that he hoped the Prince would speak about.

George grimaced. " No I don't suppose confrontations are ever enjoyable." He couldn't tell whether Percy had made that comment in passing or if he was aware that his wife had her own "confrontation" with George and was subtly bringing up the subject. Either way, he'd avoid it for now. Leave the Blakeney's happiness alone-the Prince did not want to be responsible for putting a dent in their relationship. Time to move on to the next question. Although that was even less desirable. "Well," George began slowly. " lately I've been reminded of...some unfortunate past experiences. Especially being around you and Marguerite." The Prince did not plan on elaborating. Hopefully they would move on to another subject.

"And what would that be Sire?" Sir Percy offered a hopeful grin of encouragement to the other man. Although not known for brain, save card plays, the man was known for his quietness and attentive ears. Blakeney hoped the Prince would take advantage of them now. With a little prodding perhaps.

George drew in a small, slow breath trying to decide how to best go about this. Should he tell Percy or not?

"I say George, I don't claim to know much about your courting life. Outside the court that is!" Sir Percy laughed gayly at his own quirky humor and pun. His laughter ceased and he took on a more subtle look. "Seriously, do tell me a story. Between your training to be King and my... well... my life as a Baronet! When do we get the chance to catch up?"

"A story?" George remarked wryly. "It's unfit for a child's bedtime tale- more like some awful nightmare." He tiredly ran a hand through his hair. "It is absolutely impossable for me to go into much detail, but if you already know I shall at least confirm it as true." The Prince leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and took a moment to gather his thoughts. Looking up at his fellow Englishman with a pained expression he asked: " Percy...did you ever hear anything concerning Maria and I?"

So that was it. Blakeney realized he was treading on very light ground just about now. The Prince had been watching his act of love towards Marguerite. If there was ever any question in his mind on how well he pulled things off, George certainly confirmed a top notch performance just now. He must have done a better acting job than he thought.

Sir Percy's face took on a sad look of concern. "Every one hears things.... Your Highness" he was quick to add. How much he knew and how much he was supposed to know was not up for debate. At least, not if Blakeney could answer the question without directly answering it.

"Gad Percy I have to play the part with everyone else-can't I just be George every once in awhile?" he asked exasperated. He did not mean to get edgy, but the topic of discussion was a little nerve-wracking.

"I am all ears for you if you like Sire. Why, I won't even breath a word of it to Lady Blakeney, if it makes you feel any better." Wasn't there truth in that statement! "Come now George. You had to sit back there and watch that torturous display of a simple purchase to my wife. Certainly I can try and make it up to you by hearing you out, say? Let me have a go at it."

George sighed, troubled. Pressing his hands to his temples he thought aloud. "If you haven't heard anything then maybe it's best not to spread the word." But would he have to conceal this forever? Surely if there was someone he could confide in, it would be Percy Blakeney but doubts still surfaced in his mind. "Though God knows Father has done his best to make it seem as if it never happened!" the Prince said bitterly.

He glanced down at his cards and pulled out the highest spades that would win him the game for his discard. Certain things had to be dealt with in certain ways. Blakeney thought it best to get the Prince talking if old George won a hand or two. Restore the old royal confidence, as it were.

George did not even notice that Percy put down a card. The game was forgotten to him and nothing but thoughts of the past filled his present.

"It would be good of me to then tell you I have heard certain tidbits George." Blakeney sat there with the new losing cards in his hand. He noticed George seemed taken quite withdrawn and was not even paying attention to the game.

"I do not wish to disrespect your Highness or the King, your father, but I would be glad to know what truly transpired. Gracious! I can't imagine what tormentations you are experiencing tonight." Relaxing back in the card chair, Blakeney rested his cards in his lap, face down of course, and looked at his friend.

"Disrespect my father? Don't bother worrying Percy, he's brought it on himself" George spat. "Gad, I'm sorry." He leaned back in his chair and tried to smooth over his outburst. "Tidbits eh?" He suddenly looked drawn and much older then his years. As a public figure it was George's habit, as well as his duty, to mask his emotions and show only what was beneficial. Years of perfecting this skill were all thrown out the window and all because of one sympathetic ear. Something taken so for granted but that was so foreign is his life. His mother did not pay him much attention and his father was either too wrapped up in playing King or, as in the last few years, becoming too ill to care if the public's view of their family wasn't affected. Only once before had someone seemed so willing to do nothing more then be there. And George had fallen for it then as well, for Maria, fast. "So what did you hear Percy?" George asked, his voice sounding hoarse. He cleared his throat but the lump remained. "That Father was tempted by Maria and had her taken out of England? That she was just another socialite that I cast away? Or maybe that she was some whore I took a fancy to and picked up off the street? Trust me I've heard them all." He clenched his fist and his jaw tightened. "She was the only human being I ever truly cared for and not even her memory is sacred."

It had been the first time in two weeks that Blakeney actually felt pity for someone stuck in a relationship besides himself. George, it would seem, was stuck in a forbidden relationship. Blakeney, well, he already had dwelled in his sorrow long enough. Time to feel a little bit better by having someone sound more sad in tale.

"I am sorry for that George." Sir Percy's face twisted in a way of embarrassment for having brought up the topic. Blakeney answered George's question however. It was not even the rumor he had heard, but rather the one he made up to give George the most outlandish one he could think of. Blakeney was not quite sure why he did this. Either his curiosity on seeing how the royal would react, or to try and make George tell him the truth, being so adamant to dismiss the false rumor.

"I hate to say it and mean no disrespect to her memory George, and I tell only to answer your question. I heard that you wished to denounce the throne and find the most homely and inappropriate female that England had to offer as a revengeful thorn in your father's side." Sir Percy looked appalled at George, covering his mouth with his gloved hand as if he was a lady at court cursing. "I'm sorry George, I didn't believe it when I heard it. You are and have always been a man of high standards in my eyes."

"Am I?" George ask sadly. " I risked the throne. I do not amount to much but by God I am more fit to rule than Father has been in the last few years. I., we got married Percy. Secretly, in '85. How I wanted to publicly show her off, to shout it from the rooftops that we were man and wife! Somehow father found out and it was annuled. He claims it was invalid from the start-I was not yet 25 and therefore could not marry without his consent. Worse yet Maria is Roman Catholic and to marry anyone of such a denomination would have caused me to forfeit my right of succession to the throne." George unballed his fist and his voice grew quiet. "You remember how I had to denounce any relationship with the unknown "Maria" two years ago? Even after that she and I continued to see each other for a month or so-she is the reason I purchased land in Brighton and London, so we could be closer. Father supposedly sent her away somewhere but she continued to keep in touch regardless." By now George was reduced to almost a whisper, his eyes unfocused. "Since the two months after my denial of our relationship I have not heard from her at all. The was a rumor she was near Richmond so..." his voice trailed off and he sat in silence, thankful the room was dimly lit.

The tale was a sad one, and the Prince's story was more accurate to the rumors brought to the Baronet's ears. He nodded and listened, not help but think how this man truly suffered. Blakeney thought having a blood thirsty Republican wordy suction cup for a wife was the worst thing that could happen to a man. The Prince's sad tale of a real love broken, well, that was just worse in Blakeney's eyes. At least the Baronet could still gaze his eyes upon her and dream of Maeve.

"I am sorry George." Blakeney glanced away, not sure how else to approach the future King of England. What could one say but that? "Tell me, does it worsen the memory, being here in Richmond?" His blues searched out the Prince's eyes, observing his reaction.

George sounded tired and that he was. Tired physically, tired mentally of having to keep straight which story was told to whom and how public each aspect of his life was, but most of all tired of hiding and playing games. Looking into Percy's eyes the Prince could tell the man sympathized with him on some level. "Worsen? We spent little time in Richmond together so not Richmond per say. It's everywhere Percy. Each couple I run across just makes the loss..more acute. It's unavoidable. You and Marguerite for example: I'm sure you two have your disagreements. . . ”

Did his eyes just pop out of his head. Did his own blue eyes widen at hearing those words? Ohhhhh hoHO. Blakeney could on stare and try to look like a normal Sir Percy. "Opinionated" Indeed! Blakeney surpressed the smile that was forming inside as he could only wonder what choice 'opiniated' words George got that day. He kept a straight face for now.

“. . . Lord knows it must happen considering how" he paused searching for the right word. "...opinionated she is, but in spite of that you are still together. And the relationship stays between the two of you! Mine on the other hand are anaylazed and discussed and told over by any man who so chooses. Maria and I had our moments to be sure, but all I want right now is to at least know that she is alright. We did not part on good terms at our last meeting which is why I have been looking for her more diligently than before. I...I need assurance that all is right between us."

"I am so sorry George, I wish I could pull her out of a hat for you..."

George smiled sadly at his supportive friend. "I wish you could too..."

He did not mean to, but as he spoke the words, his mind raced. It had been his life this past year. If he could rescue Aristos in France, track down and use his little known contacts here and there.... why not... "No no no.. don't be insane Blakeney" he thought to himself. Still, the thought of finding Maria and sending an annonymous note, or a secret meeting for the two of them, crossed his crazy mind.

Sir Percy nodded when it was appropriate to nod and saddened his gaze when the story called for it. Do not think that Blakeney did not care about his friend. He truly felt pity for George and wished there was something he could do. However a man can not change what he is or how he thinks, and right now, Blakeney's mind raced with finding this Maria.

When George finished, Blakeney sat there a moment, trying hard to fake the blank and stupid sad look of Sir Percy. "You know Sire," he began, "Woman are funny things, aren't they? Like just a moment before, you mentioned my opinionated wife. Whatever do you mean?" Sir Percy tilted his head to the side for a moment, as if he hadn't a clue about the woman world.

George raised his eyes questioningly, temporarily pulled out of his self-pity. He had not wanted to bring this up. But Blakeney had been an understanding listener thus far and George had let his tongue slip: he at least owed the man an explanation. But Percy HAD to have heard SOMETHING about it. " Come now Percy. Surely with the stir we caused the day I stopped by one of your servants, or even Marguerite herself, must have said something to you about what went on."

Sir Percy looked more confused at the Prince. "Surely Sire, I heard you came and had a visit. Some tea and cakes perhaps? My dear wife has not told me much, other than she enjoyed your visit." Sir Percy scratched his chin in hard and efforted thought.

George threw a sidelong glance Percy's way and threw his hands in the air. "Percy Blakeney, either you are a damn good liar and want to hear what happened from my own mouth or else your servants need to pay more attention." George grinned. "And knowing the ways of most hired help I am sure the latter is not the case."

"Well, Sink me. It's not like you two kissed while I was gone. That isn't it, is it Your Highness? I mean, a man of your position, power, I could guess that a girl like Marguerite might be tempted..." Sir Percy's voice dropped a little lower now, for effect, as if he was speaking only to himself. "Of course looks certainly wouldn't be taken into consideration if she did kiss you..."

Now Blakeney went back to normal volume, glancing with a grin at George. "But no nono. She knew she has ME to come back too." He was partially teasing now, in the manner of Blakeney. Sir Percy offered a cheerful smile at the Prince. Whether or not he told, it didn't matter. Blakeney got his desired reaction: The man did not wish to say. And in dealing with "Her Grace-The Verbal Conflict", really, who could blame him?

"Kiss? Heavens no, I would have found that far preferable." George said with a wicked grin and a teasing twinkle in his eye. "Have no fear Percy I did not steal your wife away. But what is so abhorrent about my looks hmm? Although I suppose you are right, they wouldn't have been a consideration. If Marguerite was so misguided as to be swept off her feet by your shabby self then how could a dashing figure like myself hope to right her wits?" Joking...this was good. The subject had turned from his miserable excuse of a life, but unfortunately to another touchy subject-his last visit. Thankfully they were only glossing over it, each dancing around the other to feel out a path. And that George could handle.

Sir Percy laughed and slapped at his knees. The Prince had told Blakeney he was a damn good liar. He would have to tone it down then a little. There was a great rift in making George every think he was not the fool Sir Percy but yet could lie and cover-up. Sir Percy was a imbecile and fool. Everyone in London knew that.

"Egads Sire! You sure now how to hurt a man. I say every day, 'Self! If it weren't for your inane good looks, that wife of yours would have never bothered with you.' And you know Sire, I always answer myself the same: 'Well then Self! You better watch your step because she will out think you ever step of the way.' "

Tossing his head back, banging his foot on the ground and slapping his knee, Sir Percy sat there having a happy old time with that one. It was as if he had just heard a hilarious joke for the first time.

George allowed himself a quiet laugh. Not because of the joke, more from watching Percy act so amused! "Marguerite? I do not doubt that she could out think and out do most of us!"

"Oh I most agree Sire. Speaking of which, should we join them? Surely our clever wit must be missed by now. Can't let the French go along by themselves without it nowadays." He smiled and stood, leading the way back to Armand and his sister.

“If you say so." George said as he stretched and rose. Luckily Percy had somehow forgotten or just dismissed the discussion concerning the Prince's last visit and his encounter with Marguerite-and that was completely alright with him.

She let go as she heard to footsteps rejoining from the hallway. She pulled back and wiped her hands over her cheeks to wipe away the tears. "Well, it seems as if our guest is about to rejoin us." She said as she stood up, putting out her arm as if in a motion to take his, "Shall we?"

He linked his arm with hers. "Um...sure...." Still chagrined by what he had said, he agreed. He caught Percy's eye as he saw the other man and the boy's expression pleaded with the other to save him. He was a little uncomfortable with his sister at the moment.

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