BACK IN A FLASH IV - The Ballroom 

He folded the note three times and smiled. Giving his habitual off-key whistle, he took the sealing wax and melted the end in a candle. Upon its readyment, Blakeney let the red wax drip down onto the note where he sealed it with a plain and flat round stamper. Part of him was tempted to use the flip side of his ring, as he had so many times on the notes to Paul, but even he could not be tempted into carelessness.

Ringing for the Inn Keeper, Blakeney gave his instructions through barely a crack in the door. Proceeding his instructions was a small stack of coins that delighted the Inn Keeper enough to keep most of them and send his young boy as the courier of the note to the famous actress known as Marguerite St. Just. Everyone gossiped about the tall Englishman who stayed for so long in this Inn. Everyone gossiped about the night the famous actress stayed there as well.

As usual, Blakeney cared not for reputation or rumors. They never suited him in the past therefore he didn't care when they started in the present. Closing the door again to his room, he hummed as moved about in a carefree manner. Still clad in only his towel.

The first act went off without a problem. After months of playing the tired but true Moliere classic, Marguerite was rather relieved there was only a week left in the run. After that, the management decided that she should go into resting for a short time before preparing for another run. She was only too glad to accept knowing that the period of resting would give her more time to spend with Percy before business would finally force him away, and with Armand once his classes let out for the season.

Marguerite dashed back to her dressing room to find a note on her table. The name appeared to be in Percy's hand and she quickly tore through the seal to read the note, only to be slightly disappointed to learn he was not in the audience that night. She sighed in disappointment but was relieved that he still planned to meet her afterwards.

The second act went off quite well, as usual, and after the final curtain Marguerite took her time getting out of her costume and wig and dressing herself in her normal clothes for the evening. She had a feeling Percy might be running late so instead of leaving through the stage door, she leaned out the window of her dressing room, which over looked the back alley, and waited.

He sat in the very back of the dark theatre. He purposefully did not enter until after the house candles were dimmed and everyone already took their seats. His seat was on the main floor, but Blakeney bought the ticket in the furthers corner. Odd thing to do, but he wanted to just watch her from a far. Make her think he was not even present.

Assuming she got his note before the show, he smiled watching her up on stage. Marguerite's talent out shone the other actors and actresses, and only a few of them could keep up with her in voice and pose. He sat with his hat on his lap, his gloved hands crossed before him. When the curtains drew from the first act, he sunk down in his seat and remained in the shadows. He was enjoying, as always did, his own game.

When the second act started, he again remained in the back shadows and quietly kept to himself. He did not holler out his usual "Bravo!" nor did he give her performance a standing ovation in the manner of Sir Percy. He clapped, and remained seated. Blakeney was observing the entire reaction of the theatre and all its patrons. His mind racing.

The cast finished their curtain calls and disappeared behind the curtains of the back stage. Back into the catacombs of dressing rooms and then finally home. The young boys came into the empty belly of the theatre and began distinguishing all the house candles. Blakeney still sat with a clever grin on his face, he never moved from his seat.

"Here, young man." He took out a franc and waved it in the air, which quickly had the nearest candle boy at his side. "For me lad, go back to Mlle St. Just and tell her a man is waiting for her in the back ground seats of the theatre. Do not tell her how I am dressed or what I look like, say? There's a good boy." He placed the franc in the small hand and the boy turned to run upstairs to deliver the message.

Marguerite had blown out all but one lone candle in her dressing room as she peered out the window. A cool spring breezed brushed across her face as she closed her eyes to drink in the night. A soft knock on the door roused her from her near dream like state and she gave permission to enter. One of the young prop boys opened the door saying he had a message: a man wished to meet with her after the performance.

As she had with all the other requests from men for a private audience, she dismissed to boy asking him to tell the man that she was sorry that she would not be able to make his acquaintance, though she hoped he had enjoyed the performance. The boy dashed off without complaint and Marguerite leaned out the window once more to watch the stage door and look for her Percy.

When the boy returned , a smile crept across the Baronet's face. He wasn't sure what to expect. She might have thought it was him. She might have thought it was some stranger. Regardless, the news from the boy bested whatever he could have come up with. "Well now... how many of these will it take for you to quietly take me up there?" He pulled out of his pocket 6 francs and enjoyed seeing the little boy's face light up yet again.

When the little boy pointed to two of them, Blakeney laughed and put all 6 in the kind kid's hand. "Just quietly take me up there. She is expecting me." He quietly moved and followed the boy. He was in an extremely good mood this evening and feeling quite playful. The boy lead him to the door, but just as the little hand went to knock, the gloved hand of the Baronet took hold and prevented it. He winked and nodded at the boy who covered a giggle and charged off.

"Mlle St. Just?" He used the highest possible boy voice he could muster without laughing. Then the tall Brit knocked on her door low where a child would knock. Quickly he darted back, moving down one of the catacomb hallways and to hide.

Marguerite had fallen back into her dazed state of mind when a knock came to her door. She couldn't quite place the voice though. "Pierre?" she called, "is that you, the door is still unlocked, you can come in."

A grin crossed his face hearing her speak to an empty door. Biting his tongue, he slinked back in front of the door and wiggled the handle. In that same little boy voice, he called out, "Can't Mlle. Help me. It's stuck." Then he darted back into the darkness.

Marguerite laughed as she stepped back form the window. She laugh as she began to speak to him, "You shouldn't have shut it so hard last time then. she opened the door to see the little boy standing there, "Well Pierre, what can I help you with?"

He put his gloved hand in his mouth and bit down to keep from laughing. Maeve just opened the door into darkness. The Baronet stood there a moment and listened, waiting to see what she would do.

When Maeve went back into her dressing room and closed the door, he quickly moved back to the door. He lunged forward so he could reach the door and spoke while jiggling the door knob again. "Mlle. Help me." As speedy as he moved around the corner, he pushed off that lunged leg and spun back around the corner.

Marguerite sighed and went back to the door, only to stare again into the darkness. A sudden wave of fear overtook her, and instead of disappearing back into her dressing room. She lifted her skirts and stepped out of the room, slamming the door behind her as she rushed down the stairs and out into the alley. She looked both ways, but the alley was deserted. Frightened, she dashed down the alley towards a main road, heading as fast as she could towards a tavern, an inn, anywhere where people might be.

Upon hearing her scream, he dropped his cane and hat in shock. "Good God!" he breathed and peeked around the corner. He thought he heard her running, but in these damn catacombs, he could not figure out from where. "Maeve? MAEVE!" He called loudly. Her scream continued to echo about and now he moved swiftly out into the middle of the hallway. By this time, her echoes died and standing stumped, he peeked into her room. Empty.

"Good Lord, what in the King's name was that about?" He turned and left her room. Poor stupid Blakeney. Had he just stood in there, through the open window he would have heard her bellowing scream continue and echo down the streets as she exited the theatre. He went back into the hallway to grab his dropped hat and cane.

Not knowing where she screamed too, as the whole theatre was now in an eerie silence, he felt remarkably foolish and began to follow down the hallway where he last heard her scream. By this time, Marguerite was not even in the theatre, running like the devil was after her down a street, or perhaps an alleyway to the nearest inn or bistro. The tall English bloke called out her name quietly in the theatre, near getting himself lost.

Marguerite ran to the nearest bistro, fortunately running into a fellow actor, Jean, who, after hearing her tale of strange voices and the disappearing boy, was quickly persuaded to go back to the theatre with her.

A few minutes later, they re-entered the stage door and walked up to her dressing area. It wasn't long before they found Pierre, safe and sound, who told them of the strange man that he brought a message to her from before. Suddenly very frightened, Jean offered to walk Marguerite home, and offer she gladly accepted.

taking a moment to collect her things from her dressing room and securely lock the door in case the stranger was around still. Jean and Marguerite carefully headed down the back stairs towards the alley.

He kept wandering these dark back stages calling her name. Where in the devil was she? "Maeve? MAEVE?" He tried again, that is until he turned and walked right into a damn dark and thick back stage curtain divider. Tossing his arms about and swinging the cane, Blakeney spun and whacked the side lever causing it to flip down. The lever was attached to a long rope that went up along the side of the wall to the ceiling.

Hearing a sudden whistling coming from above, Blakeney looked up and saw a very long bar zooming down coming dangerously near his head. Leaping out of the way, he again for a second time in the evening lost his hat and cane. With a smash, the background panel whizzed on down until it came in contact with the wooden floor of the stage.

Blakeney stood there stunned. His best hat had just become victim to the scenery and he gave a good and strong solid British "Damn!" Moving near the scenery bar, he squatted down to inspect his flattened and torn hat.

Marguerite paused and hush Jean when she thought she heard someone calling. It came from the stage area. Carefully she stepped back and followed Jean as they went back to the wings of the theatre. They crept quietly until they saw several pieces of scenery suddenly shift. Marguerite screamed as Jean pushed her aside, forcing her to the ground, but out of the way of the falling scenery.

Once the dust had settled, Jean stepped over help her up and ask if she was alright. She was about to answer yes when she heard that unmistakable British voice. "Percy?" she called out, "Percy, are you there?"

Not realizing he involved others in his little calamity, he glanced up from the squat. "Maeve?" He blinking in the darkness and with both hands on the hat, pulled back and jerked it loose. "Who on earth builds these demmed death contraptions anyway?" He felt around for where he last heard his cane drop and wrapped his fingers around the steel pole.

Standing up, he brushed off his hat and moved near their dim outlines. "Bloody hell, I hope I almost didn't just get us all killed. Demmed bad place to put scenery, I say!" He shook his head and moved over to them, where it was light.

"Percy?" marguerite said as she followed the voice, "Percy, what in the world are you doing back here? How even did you" her voice trailed off as she began to put the pieces of the night together. "Percy, you were the stranger, you were the one knocking on my door weren't you?"

Finishing the dusting off of his ruined hat, Blakeney listened to Marguerite put a few things together. "Me Madame? Some stranger was knocking on your door?" He glanced at Jean and the very tiniest of wave of jealous flowed through him. Barely enough to ruffle his cravat. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet." He extended his hand at Jean and gave a broad smile.

Marguerite moved to stand between Percy and Jean, "And don't you try and change the topic, that was you in the wings earlier, and the stranger that had Pierre delivered the massage from weren't you?" Marguerite said, still trembling from the recent events.

Seeing her trembling so, Blakeney moved over and wrapped his arm around Maeve and hugged her close. He had not meant to scare her. He was excited and quite a bit nervous this evening. Leaning over, he gave the top of her forehead a kiss and looked up at Jean.

"Can't get anything past her, now can I? Odds life, really." He could feel himself about to ramble on in front of Jean, and as much as he tried to stop, the words came out anyway. "What is a foolish bloke like me to do when trying to make someone as clever as Maeve his wife, eh? Not very gentlemen like of me, scaring her half to death...."

Marguerite was still near fuming when Percy pulled her close to him. As Percy began to go on, she watched Jean out of the corner of her eye and knowing Jean did not know English, began to translate until he got to the word, "wife." She froze in shock. Did he really say that?

"OhGoodLord.." he closed his eyes and said aloud. He did it. He had tried to stop himself, but his nervous mouth did it anyway. Not looking directly at either one for a moment, Blakeney realized that he just let the cat out of the bag. This was not exactly the time or setting he had planned on, and certainly not with a witness, but nevertheless. He had already started it....

Taking his arm off of her, he lazy blues looked down as his hands began to pat down all over his coat. "Well, I *do* have it here somewhere..." He looked up at Maeve with a very sheepish look and then he glanced over at Jean as he searched. He couldn't even remember where he put it.

Blakeney took her fingertips in his gloved hand. "Oh Damn me, I'm not very good at this." In the dim lighting in the hallway of the back stage, he kissed the top of her hand and quickly lowered himself down on one knee. The Baronet of Richmond pressed his other hand to his chest, holding still his cane and mutilated hat. Looking up at Marguerite, almost with an apologetic look, he blundered, "Say you'll marry me Maeve? I don't think I could accept it, if you say no."

She nearly froze, in such a state of shock she could barely think straight. "Marry you Percy? I don't, I mean I, I," why was this so difficult. She had received numerous proposals for marriage, and they were so easy, just say no and be done with it.

Out of all the things he had planned and done, this by far was the hardest. It took a lot for Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet, to again think of marriage thanks to Lord Tony's taunt. To actually get himself down on one knee before this woman, his nerves were shot. His last fiancée running in his mind and the humiliated feeling of chancing yet another rejection. Still, he was not so scarred by anything in life that he did not give it a chance.

Maeve was hesitating. Stammering. Oh why had he done this in front of a witness? It was apparent that Jean could not speak English, but Blakeney could be speaking Chinese and his actions would still make all the needed non-verbal clues to understanding. He was down on one knee like a school boy.

Marriage was not an option. She had her own life already here in France. She had finally achieved the career she desired and could live the life she wanted. She had responsibilities to Armand, her little brother. She couldn't become his wife, the wife of an English Aristocrat. It would mean giving up her career, either uprooting or leaving Armand, probably leaving Paris, the only home she had ever known, and going to England, leaving her friends and those she called her family. And what for? To go to a strange land, to join a group of society that she despised and would probably despise her, to be a wife to be dressed up and danced around and shown of at balls and other events. No, marriage was not an option.

Then why couldn't she say no?

The uncomfortable silence that filled the air was only increasing. His hopeful blue eyes looked up at here back and forth, seeing not a hint of happiness on her face. In fact, if he had to guess, she seemed pained that he had dared to ask. He lowered his gaze and stared at the hem of her skirt now. It was a nicely done hem. Small and tight little stitches as the dress maker took care in the work. The skirt bottom rose just above her ankles where he settled his gaze next.

Still the killing silence continued and he rested her hand against his lowered and defeated forehead. This was not the night he envisioned and he should have seen she was angered and waited to ask. all of England said, "Once a fool, always a fool."

Marguerite continued to shake as he looked up at her with bright, almost pleading eyes. She watched as he moved, bending his head to break his gaze. She bent her head to look up and away from him, closing her eyes. She was fighting an internal battle with herself, and she could tell it was hurting him inside. She couldn't say yes, she couldn't marry, bind herself to a man forever, much less to an English Aristo, but she couldn't say yes.

But she did love him. She loved they way he would smile and laugh when she teased him, and even occasionally teased her back. No one, save Armand, would ever dare tease her, but she welcomed it. She loved how innocent he seemed when she would offer him kisses and affection. She loved how kind and genuine he always seemed.

A soft tapping sound brought her back to reality and she turned to see Jean softly stepping back to leave the couple alone. Once out of sight, Marguerite looked back at Percy, still kneeling on the floor. "Percy," she said, her voice trembling, "Percy, do you love me?"

Hearing the other man leaving, a small bit of breath left his lungs. How pathetic was this scene he just made? The long silence had him starting to doubt himself. Something only rare people such as Sir Algernon could do. Now, he was doing it again before Mlle Marguerite St. Just.

She called his name and Blakeney slowly brought his chin upward. He was still on that one knee, too frozen in humiliation to move. His gloved hand held fast to her hand. What if this was the last time he would ever be this close to her? After the yelling fight with Mary, they never neared each other again.

Wait.

Hope?

She was asking: Did he love her?

Blakeney began to nod his head slowly. Love. It was a stupid word people used with their parents, siblings, wives and husbands. He had hated that word all his life and never used it, nor responded well to it. Blakeney might say he loved his horse and his adventures. Perhaps he even loved to read. Did he love her?

He could not bring himself to say the words, but his eyes looked at her in such a way that to loose her would be devastating. He still nodded yes, unable to speak those dreaded words that ironically did describe how he felt towards her. It had to have been true. He allowed himself to fall in love with Marguerite. "Maeve, Please say yes." His soft whisper pleaded while his eyes spoke of the love he was unable to bring forth from his lips.

Marguerite watched, with tears in her eyes, as Percy nodded his head. She knew what she was doing to him, she didn't mean to, but she couldn't help her own feelings. She heard him whisper again, asking for her to say yes. She was finally living the life she wanted, and with one word she would give it all up, all she had to do was say yes.

The lump in his throat jolted. He had no idea of the internal conflict that went on inside of her. Either too blind or too into himself, Blakeney never once thought of what she was giving up. In England, woman had everything and did nothing. He knew Marguerite St. Just worked hard to be successful, but to the extent, he never would have guessed what he was asking her to do.

A few soft tears dropped down her cheeks. She gently squeezed his hand as she lowered herself to her knees. with her free hand, she ran her fingers across his cheek and lifted his chin up so his eyes met hers. She leaned it and just let her lips brush against his. She tried to pull back, but instead gave him another soft kiss, and then another.

Seeing her begin to cry, his heart broke. She was going to turn him down. Why? What had he done wrong? Should he not have played the prank and knocked on her door? It was done in fun! Couldn't she see that? Who else's door would he want to have knocked on and teased? She gave his hand that "I'm sorry" squeeze. He gulped back the lump and felt his own eyes redden. This was going to be ten fold more painful than Mary. At least with Mary, he got to yell to defend himself. With Marguerite, she was soft and tender. Touching him gently. Kissing him which he could not resist and had to kiss back.

She was going to send him away, and this was the last time he would have to kiss her. He knew the signs of rejection and therefore took advantage of these last kisses.

She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his. "Percy, I, I just," it's not that hard!, she thought to herself. Just say no, no I can't get married, no I can't leave Armand, no I don't want to give up the career I've worked so hard for, no I don't want to leave Paris.

Maybe it was best, he tried to convince himself. He was not meant to marry as his life was always spent alone. Hearing her start the rejection speech, he nodded and pulled his face away, lowering his gaze. He would let her off easy. She didn't' even have to explain herself, as he honestly could not take the words right now. Blakeney could not meet her eyes for he wanted to go away, quickly, now. His honor demanded it.

Marguerite pulled back and looked once more into those begging eyes, and she knew she couldn't do it.

She pulled equally away and sorrowful, he looked up to meet her eyes for that final last gaze. The wave of numbness passed over him and Blakeney gave a single nod, squeezed her hand in a good bye and began to stand.

"Yes." she said before letting her moist parted lips run over his.

Letting out a shocked gasp, the chest heaved as his reddened eyes betrayed him and tiny pools of water gathered below his eye lashes. She said yes? She said yes. The pent up sorrow escaped and he near cried in relief. She answered him yes. Feeling her kisses, he returned them passionately, running his gloved hand over her cheek and face to wipe away her tears.

He gulped back the rest of his mourning, and continued to kiss her as he now kneeled down on two knees. Between his kisses, holding her jaw gently in his hands, he whispered in a voice filled with love, "thank you thank you". It was as close as he could come to telling her that dreaded word.

Marguerite felt Percy's gloved hands hold onto her as he held her and kissed her. After a few blissful moments she pulled back and away a bit. She looked him over, sitting there on his knees. "Don't say anything, I just want to look. I want to look at the arm that I can run to everyday, the soft eyes I can wake up to every morning," she let a single, happy tear drop down one cheek as she lifted one hand to his face. "The soft lips that whisper sweet things to me, the, the, oh I don't even know what to say anymore Percy." She moved closer and put her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I just love you so much."

He sat there in silence as she requested. His now very relieved and happy lazy blues searching out her greens. What he thought was love inside, only grew intensely rapid now. Hearing her speak to him as he was, he nodded and smiled. His broken heart quickly mended and he marveled as the wave of numbness was replaced by a burning fire.

The Baronet had never been truly loved as a passionate person deserves to be. He reached forward, not speaking a work, and wiped back her next tear. The love on his face spoke to her, even when he could not still bring himself to say them. He squeezed her tight and kissed her hair over and over, as if to stop would mean he would loose her.

Marguerite smiled as she felt Percy begin to go through her hair, placing kisses over the top of her head. In their own little world, she sighed happily and let him continue to kiss until, until she heard a shuffling noise from the opposite wing. She lifted her head up a bit in alarm, but then remembered her dear protective friend.

"Jean," she called out in her native French, "Jean, it's ok now, you can leave now if you'd like, I'll be alright."

She waited until Jean crept out room the shadows, "are you sure Marguerite?"

Marguerite smiled at Jean, "I'm fine Jean," she looked back at Percy, "I have my fiancée here now."

"Goodnight then Marguerite, I will see you tomorrow." Jean nodded at Percy, giving him an odd look before exiting the stage and leaving the two together.

Remaining quiet yet still, Blakeney listened to her call him her fiancée and a he felt himself weaken slightly. The last time he was called that, it was the most sterile experience he had ever felt. He was nervous about asking her, to be sure. Something inside told him this time would be different. He begged the Almighty Father that it would be.

As Jean turned, Blakeney smiled and gave a small laugh. He was so relieved. So incredibly relieved she did not turn him down. He began to dig through his coat pockets again and he spoke not a word.

Unsuccessful, he stood and placed a hand on her shoulder and a finger up to his lips. He didn't want her to move. Digging deep into his expensive pants, for tonight was a specially planned evening and he donned his best outfit, the gloved fingers felt finally around the small box. A smile crossed his features where upon he kneeled again before her.

Marguerite watched as Percy began to look through the many pockets of his outfit. He stood and she began to stand with him but he motioned for her not to. She sat back down on the floor of the stage until he once more got on his knees.

Without saying a word still, he brought out the diamond engagement ring and began to slid it on her hand. His lazy blues looked at her with the signs of a little boy. The 32 year old Blakeney did love the woman before him.

Marguerite watched as he took her small hand in his and place a ring on her finger. A simple gold band with a bright diamond, the perfect size for her slender hand. Marguerite brought her other hand up to gently brush Percy's cheek. In his eyes he still seemed almost fearful that she would take back her answer, but she knew even if she wanted to, she couldn't.

"Perfect fit for a perfect bride." He broke the silence and kissed her hand with his ring on it. He stared at it for a while. Then would look to her face and smile. This all just seemed too good to be true.

In the depths of the backstage of the theatre, he moved over to her and rested his head in her lap, looking up at her. Oh, how his heart wanted to tell her that his arms were always for her to run too. That each morning he woke up, his blues would search out her greens like no other man had. What did he honestly know of such things? He was a man. He knew enough.

Taking a hold of her ringed hand in both of his, he brought it to his lips. Closing his eyes as he rested in her lap, he kissed each delicate finger tip, and then worked his way up to kissing the top of her hand.

Marguerite smiled as Percy laid down, resting his head in her lap. Closing her eyes, see sighed as he began to kiss her fingers and her hand. With her other hand she gently played with his soft hair. She wanted to lean back and just stay like this for the rest of the night, but she could think of better places then the stage and wings of the theatre to spend some time with her fiancée. "Percy, I'm off work now, I am aloud to leave for the night."

He smiled and sat up. It was rather foolish of him to be lying down on the floor of a darkened theatre. Besides, there was some celebrating to do.

"Sink me twice, if I haven't all but forgotten. Yes. You are allowed to leave for the evening and leave you shall." He stood and helped her up; then offered his arm. "Shall we?" His lazy blues sparked with mischief. He was up to more.

Marguerite brushed some of the dust off the skirt of her dress as Percy helped her up. "I think we shall, now where shall we be off to tonight?" she said as she took Percy's arm.

He led her outside, and down the street a ways where his carriage had been waiting out of sight. "Well, I forget the name, but hopefully the driver will remember. Might I help you in?" He gave a sly smile. He knew exactly where they were going and he teased her in the manner of Blakeney.

"Of course Percy." Marguerite said as she smiled and took his hand, stepping into the carriage. Once in Marguerite noticed it was odd that Percy was not driving the carriage, he usually did.

Once in, the driver began to drive the horses forward. The carriage he rented was a covered one, the drivers seat up front atop. They rode across Paris and Blakeney held fast to her hand with his ring on it. Being with her was enchanting.

The carriage stopped at one of the older opera houses in France. They were in between productions and Blakeney smiled and looked at Marguerite. "My, my, I hope we haven't missed the first act." He exited the carriage and reached around to help her out.

"Percy, I doubt the performance is still going on, it's so late. I thought this house was dark anyway." she said, slightly puzzled at his choice of destination.

He lead her up the staircase and towards the darkened theatre. "It does appear that way, now doesn't it?" The inane smile broadened across his face. He continued to walk towards the front entrance doors.

"Percy what in the world are we doing here?" she began until he hushed her.

"Shhh. Listen, can you hear that?" He put a gloved hand to his ear and leaned in towards the door. "Damn me if that isn't music! I say, something is going on in there, let's check it out." Giving both her hands a squeeze, Blakeney smiled down at his fiancée. His future wife.

Marguerite could hear the faint sound and gave Percy a confused look. Unsure of what was going on she squeezed his hands and flowed him.

With the slyest of looks, the happy man jiggled a door handle twice in one evening and looked at Marguerite. "I say, I do not believe I will have trouble with this one. It appears to be unlocked." He did not slip into the little boy voice, but he hoped she wouldn't mind his second attempt at a joke.

Opening the door, he gestured for Marguerite to enter first, as was his gentleman like nature. When she entered, faint music filled the air. Soft, classical music, with a hint of French upbeat times to it. "Sink me, I hope there is no random phantom in this opera house like your famed La Comedie theatre."

Teasing he closed the door behind him and led her towards the balcony seats of the opera house. Taking the front row, he led her down to the middle and peered over the side. In the music pit was a small ten piece orchestra complete with conductor. It was dark up in the balcony, but the stage floor was lit near full. The main curtain was down and off to the side was a table with more candles and two dinner place settings on it.

"You did want to go dancing this evening, after dinner, did you not my dear?" Sir Percy smiled at her. Hoping she was pleased with all his planning

Marguerite looked down into the dark auditorium and her sight was immediately drawn to the lit stage. She gasped and squeezed his hand again. "Oh my goodness Percy. What is, I mean how did you, oh my Percy." The outspoken actress was once again left stammering and speechless.

Marguerite turned again to face him, but instead of looking at him, she softly leaned her body against his.

He laughed and hugged her close. Hearing her go on so, he was glad the small fortune he paid for the evening opera house rental. "I was rather hoping to give you something different...." He kissed her hand and began to lead her down to the stage, where dinner would be served.

Marguerite followed Percy as he lead her down to the candle lit stage. Half way across to the table, Marguerite planted her two feet solid on the ground. When Percy turned to see why she had stopped, she tugged on his arm so that he would step closer. Standing directly in front of him she wrapped on arm around his neck, pulled herself close and gave him a long, full, kiss on the lips. When she broke for a moment, she softly whispered, "I just couldn't let you go any farther without that."

Feeling the resistance of a tug, Blakeney turned and looked curiously at Marguerite. Pulling at him, he neared and received the most wonderful of all things. A long kiss with her limbs wrapped securely around his neck. Blakeney returned the kiss. A little less reserved than he had been in the past. He was an English gentleman, but now, and hopefully soon, he was going to have her as his wife. To hell with formalities. She was offering and he was taking.

He nuzzled his cheek against her soft and gentle face. "I'm most thankful Milady that you did not allow it." Hugging her close again, he kissed her cheek and leaned back up. "A fiancée of mine, soon to be a wife, no? How much more in one lifetime could a man ask?" Giving her hand a squeeze, he lead her to the table set up on the front of the stage to the left. Holding out her chair, the lazy blues gazed loving upon his future bride.

Marguerite gracefully took her seat in the chair Percy had pulled out for her and waited for him to take a seat beside her at the table. She looked around again to see the orchestra and the decorated table and everything else it appeared Percy had planned for her. "This is quite an event you arranged for tonight Percy. Are there any other surprises in store for the night?"

"Mmmmm." He rubbed his chin with his gloved hand. "Let me see. Went to see your complete performance tonight. Asked you to honor an old chap by wedding me. Rented out the opera house and arranged for music, dinner and dancing." With a flirtatious smile, he turned his lazy gaze at the soon to be former Marguerite St. Just.

"Do tell me what I might have forgotten? My poor brain could not have come up with anything else." He smiled at her and watched the rented staff bring forth the meal.

"You went to my complete performance? Why did you tell me you wouldn't be there if you did come to the performance?" Marguerite asked, wondering why Percy would lie to her.

With a devilish smile, he reached across the table and took hold of her hand. "Just to give you the element of complete and utter surprise. As it turned out, that certainly near backfired on my behalf, now didn't it, whot?" He began to rub gently at her fingertips. She was his. All his.

"It certainly was a surprise, and you're very lucky it didn't backfire." Marguerite giggled as she rubbed her hand against his, looking up and smiling at him, but for a moment she was forced to look away, "Percy, I'm sorry."

Curiosity crossed his face. He was intrigued. "Sorry Milady? Whatever in France could you be sorry for?" He continued to rub at her fingers. The food smelled wonderful, but her touch is what he craved.

Marguerite started to retract her fingers from his touch, but instead thought better and laced hers through his. "About before, I know when I waivered and stammered like that it must have hurt you. I would never intentionally hurt you like that Percy, you must know that, and I'm sorry it did hurt you.

He nodded listening to her. In turn, he wrapped his long gloved fingers around her slender small ones. He was all too familiar with feeling foolish and rejection. He glanced over to where the orchestra members played in the music pit. Glossing over it all, as he was not ever one to happily discuss these type of issues, he said, "Yes, well, the end result isn't the same now is it?" Sir Percy put on his best smile and looked back at her.

Slowly releasing her hand, withdrawing every so slightly in posture only, he pointed to her plate. "They say lobster is rare this time of year. If you don't eat it soon, it will be cold and the taste becomes lost." He continued smiling on the outside.

"Percy, please don't do that, please don't pull away from me. If I'm going to be you're wife I insist that you be open with me. Don't think that by being open and talking about it that I'll suddenly change my mind. I upset you before and I'm sorry, and I want to know if you can forgive me or not." Marguerite said, suddenly a bit upset with the situation.

Now to add to his reminded humiliation, she began to scold him. The rejection was followed by that sort of tone that he would wake to in a cold sweat right before hearing his mother scream out his name at him. "Good God, I'm slipping." He said to himself in his head.

Looking over Marguerite, he nodded quietly and smiled. She was right. She was going to be his wife and she was not Sir Algernon, Lady Blakeney, or some strange dream like hybrid of the two. Marguerite loved him. She had said so.

"Forgive me my sweet Maeve." He took her hand again and brushed his lips slowly on each finger. "I suppose, yes, I was not feeling all that well upon hearing your words. That has changed however and I know you did not mean it." He looked at her with a hopeful smile. He wasn't very good at this.

Marguerite let each of her fingers gently caress his cheek after he kiss her fingertips, "then you forgive me Percy?"

Nodding slowly, he regarded her. "There is nothing to forgive my Maeve, but if you must hear the words, then yes." Slowly, he was learning her little quirks. She needed to hear him say it.

"Thank you Percy." Marguerite said as she faced her warm hands on his smooth cheeks. "So now, what were you saying before about lobsters?"

"Simply that only the grandest of foods should be eaten by the grandest of women. Have you tried Lobster before my dear? It is quite a delicacy, and should not be allowed to get cold. If you like, call the man over. He will show you how to deshell the fiend."

"No Percy, I've never tried lobster before. Actually I'm not even sure I know what lobster is." Marguerite said as a man came over with two plates each containing a bright red creature. When her plate was place in front of here, Marguerite leaned back a bit and away from the table.

Seeing her react so, the Baronet laughed in a good natured manner. "It is quite dead, I reassure you." Turning his head, Blakeney did not miss a beat. "My good man. Please show the lady how to properly deshell the fiend and be sure not to let it "spit" at her, say?"

Marguerite gave Percy an odd look, "Spit on me Percy?"

The man nodded and leaned over Marguerite's plate. He began speaking out instructions, taking the steel claw like holders and cracking here and there. Expertly, the man had the lobster deshelled in under a minute, leaving the fresh whitish pink meat on her plate. When asked if he should rid of the shell, Blakeney nodded and finished the deshelling procedure of his own.

Marguerite watched as the man quickly cracked and removed the red shell to leave a bit of meat on her plate. It didn't make sense to her to serve the meat like that when the shell could have been removed before it was served, but she didn't question it.

"Try a spot of lemon on it my dear. Trust me. You will fall in love with this sea serpent or my name isn't Sir Percy." He gave an inane laugh and enjoyed watching her. She had to teach him how to break from his gentleman shell. Now it was his turn to teach.

Marguerite took Percy's advice and squeezed a little lemon juice onto a small piece of meat and took a bite as Percy worked on his own shell. She chewed slowly as he watched her. Although Marguerite rarely ate any type of sea food, it was better then most types she had experienced.

"Good say?" He put his shell on the plate from the awaiting servant who then left the two of them. The ten piece orchestra played and he watched her face flicker in the candle light. "Sort of a rifty tune." He smiled, referring to the music. Using his own lemon, he began to eat.

"Demmed a lot of work to catch one of these devils, I'm told. How it is done, I have never seen but only heard." He watched her some more with a knowledgeable smile. Lobster was something the Baronet ate, and often. "Oh, and the 'spitting'. Just a common phrase really. Sometimes when you take them out of the shell, they light to fight back, eh?" He referred to the juices of the animal as it was peeled from its body. He hoped she understood and put a forkful of the melting sea food on his tongue.

"Like to fight back? Goodness Percy you do seem to like some odd types of foods then, It this something I will have to get used to in the near future?" Marguerite said as she took another bite of the meat.

He laughed long and hard at her comment. "Odd food? Ha! You just wait my Maeve. You have much to get used to I gather by the time I am through with you." He wiggled his brow and winked, going back to the meal at hand.

Marguerite smiled at Percy, but then a bit of nervousness came over her. So much was about to change for her, giving up everything she's know to join Percy and adapt in many ways to his lifestyle. She was sure that the different diet was only the very beginning.

When they finished the meal, the Baronet dabbed at his mouth and putting the napkin to the side of his plate, stood. "May I have this dance?" He smiled and neared Marguerite, his gloved hand on the back of her chair to help her up.

Marguerite smiled, though with nervous eyes, as she took his hand and stood up. He led her out to the open area of the stage and wrapped his arm around her for a dance, but Marguerite rested her head on his shoulder, hiding her glance from him. Her head was beginning to spin again dealing with all the changes that one little word she uttered before would bring to her life.

Something about her gaze was not comfortable. He noted it right away, for he made it his personal hobby to observe the behavior of others. By far, it did not make him an expert on dealing with the situations. Just he usually had a flair for picking up on them.

Resting his hand on her waist, he Marguerite about for a bit. Something was not right however. She now hid her face from him, like he had only hours before. Fearing that she might be changing her mind, he offered, "Did the meal not agree with you my Maeve?"

He continued to dance, but withheld from spinning her about as he would have liked to.

Marguerite was pulled from her trance when Percy spoke to her, asking about the meal. She looked up at him and said, "Oh no Percy, the meal was fine, a bit of an interesting experience I would call it." She forced a small smile as they continued to dance.

Seeing her smile put his fears to rest. He did not know the tune the orchestra played, so he did not try and ruin it by adding his poorly done hum. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. That is one of my most favorite delicacies." He dared to spin her now, that she seemed of good spirits. He loved to look at her. Her hair would flow and follow her in the spin. She was beautiful.

Percy happily danced her around more, a bit less restrained, a bit more joyful, but she still avoided is glance, she still avoided his smile and his bright happy eyes. She still pondered, maybe even in a way doubted her decision.

Avoidance. He knew it all too well. Marguerite would not look at him, not even when he spun her. Not even when he held her close. The small fearful boy inside of him did not want to know the reason why. Had she not already begun to reject him earlier. With a slight hesitation, he kept quiet now. Trying to remain looking happy with her as he continued to dance. He feared the truth behind her eyes.

Marguerite slowed her step, forcing Percy to slow with her. She paused with the doubtful look in her eyes. She looked up at him and gently brought her lips to his, just to simply brush against his. she needed something to calm her down, something to calm her fears and worries.

Now she was making him nervous. Very nervous all over again. He allowed her to slow him down, his leading near halting. There seemed to be something behind her eyes that he refused to see. Blakeney had no reason to want to know. Kissing her back gently, he brought his strong limbs around to hug her close. He leaned over to try and kiss her again. Maybe this is what she wished for.

Marguerite felt Percy's arms pulled her tightly against him, holding her own body close to his. This is what she wanted, but was it enough for what she had to give up? She watched as he leaned in again to kiss her, but instead of letting him, she pulled back, eyes closed and lips trembling unable to say what she was hinting for fear she would hurt him.

That move of hers was a clear rejection. She pulled away from his offered kiss. Had she ever done such a thing before? He could not remember. Then she closed her eyes to shut him out. "Maeve?" He whispered. His dancing ceased but the music still played on. Holding each of her hands in his, he stood before her baffled.

She had hurt him again, and she knew it. She didn't mean too, she never meant to. She felt him take her hands in his own and she tightly squeezed on to them. She tried to explain everything to him, but the words wouldn't come, and now she had hurt him again. "I'm sorry Percy, I'm so sorry." was all she could get out.

Now he was completely alarmed. "What? What did I do Maeve?" He felt that wave of numbness take over him as sure as sand on the sea shore. He held onto her hands tightly. He would not let her go.

"What did you do? Percy, you didn't do anything." Marguerite tried to lift one of her hands to his cheek, but he wouldn't let her hand go, he was holding onto it so tightly. She could see he was upset and worried, and she wanted to make it better for him, but she couldn't before she settled her own feelings.

"Then what?" His worried blues looked at her. He dreaded asking, but how could he go on in limbo. "Do you now change your mind?" He rubbed her finger that had his ring on it, gulping back that terrible feeling.

"Change my mind? Oh no Percy, no no no, that's not at all what I want. I love you, and I do want to be with you, but I guess it's just really beginning to sink in what getting married means, the changes that come with it, and, and I'm just a bit nervous about it." Marguerite said, looking up into his worrisome eyes. She was worked up enough as is, she needed him to help her calm down, but he would be of little help if he feared she was changing her mind.

He smiled and brought her hands to his lips, brushing them gently against each one in turn. "It is a change, but isn't it exciting? How many years have I wondered about such a thing, and thanks to you, it will become so." He placed her hand on his shoulder and took her other hand in his and began to dance with her once more. "I am told it is usual to feel nervous. I admit, right now, it doesn't bother me a bit."

"Well I'm glad at least one of us is calm." she said as he began to dance her around a bit, "what kinds of things have you wondered about Percy?"

He continued to dance with her as he talked. "To tell the truth, I have mostly thought is it worth it?"

"Then why now? Why me Percy?" she asked as she continued to dance with him. "You're sweet, funny, kind, generous, not to mention rich and titled and I have little doubt that you could have had your pick of the educated young ladies of high birth and family in England or all over Europe. Why me?"

He spun her and dipper her back over his knee. With the keen and sly look of his wolfish self, he grinned. "You were the only one that was a challenge." He leaned in and gave her a large kiss.

Marguerite drew in a deep breath as Percy leaned her over backwards and kissed her. "So I was the prize of your little game then?" she said with a soft shine in her eyes.

"Never a prize to be won. Only a hopeful dream that came true." He looked down at her and slowly brought her upwards and began to dance with her again. The cocky smile never once left his face.

Marguerite smiled and laid her head on his shoulder as he brought her upwards again. "I am nervous though Percy, this is a big change for both of us. I mean, you're getting a wife, and that in itself is a big change, but for me, it will probably mean moving to another country, giving up my career, and oh what am I going to do about my brother?"

"Hmmm." He hadn't once really given it a thought that she would move by him. Giving up her country. "You want to stay here with things how they are?" He questioned, the Blakeney in him raising a brow. "As for your brother, if he is your family, ask him along if that pleases you. The Manor should be large enough for another." A grin crossed his face.

"Leaving France is not a question of safety Percy. Paris is the only home I've ever known, and to just up and leave to go to another home in another land." Marguerite squeezed Percy's hand and sighed, "And then there's Armand, I don't think he'll like this Percy, he won't like you I can almost assure you of that."

He blinked. "I suppose so my Maeve. I've never been too rooted to one place save the past ten years. I could not leave the family inheritance however. My father worked too hard on it, I'm told." He spun her a little and then brought her close as the music slowed. "If you wish to marry me, why are you so certain your brother will not like me?"

Marguerite sighed, "For the same reason I almost turned you down the first night, you're English and an aristocrat. He'll hear the title, he'll hear where you're from, and that will be that. I'll be lucky if he even gives you a quick look over."

He stopped the dancing and with an odd grin, looked down at her. "Milady! Sir Percy Blakeney, Baronet is well more than just title and birthplace. Are you telling me that this little brother of yours is going to hear that and... wait. What do you mean, YOU almost turned me down?"

"I almost did Percy. I don't entertain all the notes I get from admirers. I almost turned you down in favor of going out with my friends." Marguerite looked up and gently stroked his cheek and gave his chin a soft kiss.

"Hurumph." Was his response to her. He spun and dipped her again and shook his blond locked head. "Wouldn't that have been a Greek tragedy?"

Marguerite just giggled, "Percy, after four years of watching me, and finally asking to meet me, if I had turned you down, what would you have done?"

A grin formed and he laughed, dipping her some more and adding a spin. "I suppose I would have just to stalk you until I wore you down and you gave in." He said it in a very kidding like manner and one lazy blue winked.

Marguerite smiled and laughed as Percy continued to spin her around. "Is that so? I'm glad I didn't then, I would hate to be stalked by some handsome and charming Englishman and I'd hate to have to send Jean after you to protect me."

Waltzing her around the stage, his grand coat tails following his steps, Blakeney stopped and looked at her dead in the face. "And who might this *other* Englishman be that could be stalking you? Handsome and charming you say?" He grinned inside but on the outside gave her his best teasing stare.

Marguerite gave Percy a silly grin of her own as she forced him to dance her around more. "Of course Percy, I'm sure you know I have quite a following among handsome and charming Englishmen. they flock to France by the boatloads in fact just to see me."

"Hah! That I do not doubt my dear! By the boatloads eh? Let me see..." He took hold of her hand and spun her outward with that lazy mannered smile. "If I did not come by boatload.... no, I used my own solo boat which is docked in Calais....." He took hold of her waist and tugged her close into his torso. Keeping his hand on the small of her back, he rocked her back and forth in a small and close knit waltz. "I certainly then came by horseback or carriage? Mmmmm. This is all very interesting Maeve. Do tell me more of these "other" suitors to the greatest actress in all of France."

Marguerite giggle at Percy and his silliness, "Now why would I want to talk about them when I have you right here, right now." She leaned her own body against his, "Besides, once they know I'm taken, I'm sure they all got on their boats and went home."

He grinned largely. "That is right. You ARE taken my dear. Taken by a tall bloke who doesn't deserve you, but is nevertheless enchanted and delighted." He lowered his face and now, tried again to kiss her.

Marguerite held still as Percy tried to kiss her, but at the last moment moved her face away a bit and giggled. She began to lean up as if to kiss him and at the last second move away few more times just to tease him and taunt him. Each time she giggled and smiled. She was enjoying the little tease, but she doubt he did.

This was the type of teasing he liked. She complimented him. He complimented her, yet they both knew they cared deeply for one another. They were to be wed and she now teased him in a way he enjoyed. Each time he leaned in and she pulled away laughing, only made him wish to try that much harder. Finally, though, he let go of her completely and turned his back on her. "Ah well, if this is the newest way the French kiss, I can do without it." Looking over his shoulder at her, he gave his impish grin.

Marguerite was surprised when Percy actually stepped away, only to tease her though. She laugh and put her arms around him, resting her head against his back, "So yet again you turn down kisses from me? You'd give in so easily instead of trying to take them?"

Feeling her on his back, he smiled. He could live an entire lifetime like this. "Give in so eas.... Give in so Easily!" The Baronet laughed and turned his head slightly around to view what he could of her. "I say Milady, it was not I who pulled away when kisses were offered." He grinned, not really able to see much of her except her shoulder. It was a nice shoulder.

Marguerite giggled again, "It wouldn't have been so difficult to take kisses, after all, I wasn't exactly running away from you." Marguerite hugged herself tighter to him and let her fingers run over his belly, gently trying to tickle him through his many layers of clothing.

Hearing her, he smiled. He turned to kiss her as she pressed her fingers into him, but soon, started to laugh and jumped back quickly. He held his gloved hands up and out in front of him, eyes wide and looking at her with a surprised smile.

Marguerite laughed, "I don't think I've ever met anyone as ticklish as you Percy." She grabbed on to each of his hands and lifted one to her face. "Percy, why have you been wearing your gloves so much lately? It's as if you've glued them onto your hands." Marguerite asked as she let one brush against her cheek, missing the feel of Percy's skin as opposed to the leather gloves.

He looked at her wide eyed and took another step backwards. Luckily for him, she did not continue the tickling. As she took a hold of his hands, Sir Percy forced upon a grin. "It's a fashion Maeve. I say, it should be a rage soon enough once the Prince gets wind of it."

"Oh really now Percy? Why would you want to hide your hands? I could understand it if you have rough, or ugly hands," she said as she held one of his hands to her cheek, "but I always liked your soft hands." She stepped closer to him as she began to fiddle with one of his gloved hands, sliding one finger between his skin and the leather.

His eyes widened a little. Should he let her see his scarred hands? He supposed he could come up with something if she did. Blakeney gave a little smile and reached down and tried to tickle her. Better to perhaps create a more pleasurable diversion. "I daresay, are you ticklish my Maeve?"

Marguerite smiled and tapped on the hard corset under her dress, protecting her body from any such feelings, unfortunately. "I guess you'll have to wait until the honeymoon to find out," she gave him a wink and a teasing smile as she stepped into his arms again.

The realization hit him. The honeymoon. And all that that implied..... Having her so close in his arms, he leaned in and now, for a third time, tried to kiss her.

Marguerite watched as his eyes widened and he leaned in close to her. This time she didn't tease and pull away. She let her lips brush against his own. For a few moments she let him do as he pleased, pushing the two sets of lips together over and over. She finally pulled her lips away from his, but stayed close, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. "Percy, I told you before about how nervous I was about the changes with getting married, is there anything you want to tell me? I only ask because just now, just before you kissed me, you had an odd look in your eyes."

In the flickering light of the surrounding stage candles, he closed his eyes and kissed her. Marguerite St. Just. The name kept repeating itself inside his mind as his lips slowly brushed her, and then quickened its pace. Marguerite St. Just. The woman who was to become the next Lady Blakeney. His wife.

Gently, his gloved fingers stroked her cheek, and then made their way behind her ear. He wondered if he took them off, how badly noticeable the scars on his knuckles would be. Would she even care? He could not help himself and with both arms around her neck, began to deglove his left hand. The Baronet needed to touch her youthfully soft skin.

Just as he got one glove off, she nuzzled into his face and softly spoke to him. Many emotions flew through him, and thinking about an answer was not one. "Odd look?" His voice spoke rapidly. He had not idea what look he just gave. A lustful one? Was that wrong? Leaning back into kiss her, he had other things on his mind and if it was this lustful look she did not care for, he expected her to stop it. He was not going to.

Marguerite smiled as he kissed her, but after that kiss she pulled her lips just slightly away. "Yes an odd look." she said as she giggled. She lifted one finger to his lips and teased, "Percy, what are you thinking about?"

"About how beautiful you are. How I wish to kiss you more, but you keep stopping me." He brought his ungloved hand around and gently ran his fingers up and down her neck. Quietly he whispered, "Why do you keep stopping me?" The smile on his face grew as he regarded Marguerite St. Just.

Marguerite smiled as she felt his bare hand caress her neck. "I have plenty of reasons for stopping you. Sometimes to tease you, sometimes because I love to listen to the sound of your voice, or to look into those eyes, or to see your smile." With that, Marguerite gave in and closed the gap between herself and Percy.

It appeared her comments pleased him very much. The smile that was growing on his face only continued further onward. Had he ever smiled so much around one person? Sir Percy did perhaps, but the serious Blakeney never did. Leaning down to kiss her yet again, Blakeney grinned wider.

He pressed his lips into her softly. Letting his lower lip run along the equal counterpart of her top. He did not close his eyes, but watched her carefully, the lazy lids of his betraying the very excitement he felt inside. Wrapping his arms around her neck, he took off the glove from his right hand. Once complete, holding her chin gently in one hand, he reached down and tucked the gloves away in his coat.

Marguerite smiled, but dared not the break the sweet silence between them. She lifted one hand and held his ungloved hand against her cheek. She much preferred his warm skin to the cool leather.

Free from clothlike restrictions, Blakeney took hold of both of her hands. His eyes never wavered from her gaze, locking it in a way. As the music played in the pit, he waltzed her away from them. Away from the dinner table. He was leading her towards where the curtain to the main stage came from the right. He was bringing her off stage, towards the back.

Marguerite paid little attention to where they where dancing until they nearly exited the stage, near the darker wings of the theatre. "Percy, we're going away from the light and music you do realize." she said, but perhaps he didn't realize.

"I would have expected a more witty observation from the cleverest woman in all of Europe." With that, he pulled her in the forceful way of a lover behind the back stage curtain and standing, hidden from view, kissed her deeply and ran his hands along her face and neck, dancing down her arm.

Marguerite was about to answer but her mouth was met with Percy's as he pulled her out of site of the orchestra and behind the curtain. He took her in his hers and caressed her face and neck. She had no choice but to answer by returning the affection, wrapping her own arms around him and lifting her face up to meet his lips.

Behind the back stage curtain, where some of the food servants were cleaning up, he kissed her. Seeing this display, the others quickly made themselves disappear, guessing an audience wasn't needed. Some of the younger staff tried to sneak and remain behind, but the man in charge scolded them and hurried them away.

Not a word was said as he kissed her. Pulling Marguerite St. Just into him, he wrapped one arm around her small waist and the other he rubbed up and down her neck and ear; arm and wrist. His lips moved not just on her pair, but tugged and nibbled on her lower lip. Kissed her chin and he even tried to kiss the under portion of her neck passionately.

Marguerite felt Percy begin to explore her face and neck with his own soft lips and responded by bending her head back to allow him whatever he wanted. She lifted one of her own hands to caress his face. She could feel her own breath beginning to come faster and the lean against him more, turning her head just slightly. For some reason she just slightly opened her eyes and turned her head and saw one remaining pair of peeking eyes. The girl giggled and slipped into the shadows as Marguerite caught her eye and Marguerite couldn't hello herself but to giggle as Percy continued to run his soft lips over her neck.

The actions of Marguerite St. Just only encouraged the Baronet. Determined not to miss an inch of what was offered, his soft lips trailed up and down her neck, moving around from one end to the other. Hearing her laugh yet not pulling away, a smile crossed those lips as they continued to kiss her. He spoke to her in between soft kisses, just above a whisper. "Am I...... finding.......... your ticklish.......... spots Maeve........?" He brought up both hands to her forehead and tenderly held her that way, while he finished to ensure he did not miss an inch.

Marguerite just smiled, "Ticklish, yes, I suppose we could call them that." she said in the short silence between the two pieces the orchestra played. Marguerite allowed her eyes to adjust as she looked around the back area of the stage. She slipped out of Percy's arms only to take his now bare hands and led him over to a large pile of cushion, probably left over from the last run at this house. She sat down among them and pulled Percy down as well. Once he too was seated with his arms gently around her she looked into his eyes and softly joked with him. "You know Percy, you've done an awful job in spoiling me over the past few weeks, everything from fancy meals to sweet kisses."

Simply put, she led him and he gladly followed and embraced her in a hug. Blakeney laughed hearing her. "Zounds Milady! I thought I was doing more of a tip top job. I suppose I will just be forced to try harder." Not waiting for her witty reply, he closed his eyes and pulled her tightly to him; the lips once more seeking and exploring her face.

"Now now my dear Percy." Marguerite said as Percy again began to place kisses all over her now flushing cheeks, "I want to hear, what exactly do you plan to do with me once we are married."

"More of this, I assure you." He was a man, not a machine. What did he know of exact plans on such things as marriage. Pulling back, he smiled at her almost boyish in nature, despite his thirty-two years. "I suppose live and be happy." As silly as it may have sounded, the idea of living happily with one at his side was as foreign to him as English tea would be to her.

Marguerite gave Percy a brief, sweet kiss. "Live and be happy, it sounds lovely Percy. I think I could do that, just live with you and be happy." She again let her lips and his join before breaking away again. "really now Percy, what is the life of an English Lady like? I know very well what life is like for an actress in France, but I am giving that up for a life I know nothing about."

Into great detail, he told her all he knew of English women and society. It was all on properness, and of the clothes, which his face lit up when he talked about fashion. "You do realize, I will give you nothing but the best my Maeve. I know you do not seem to care for such things, but really, fashion does make a man like me who he is. I would honestly love for my wife to be equally if not more so than myself."

He took a hold of her hands and smiled. Blakeney's lazy blues beamed at her.

Marguerite let her hands clasp together with Percy’s, running her fingers over his. "You know I don't care for such things, but I suppose I could adapt for you Percy." She smiled as she gently kissed him. "But really, I don't see how fashion makes a man what he is. You could be laying here with no clothes on and you'd still be my Percy."

He nearly coughed at the idea. Suppressing the urge to seem embarrassed, he leaned in and kissed her again. "Now there is a trend in fashion we should throw before London society." He smiled and added after the kiss. "I bet I could even convince the future King to pass a new law on it."

Marguerite giggled as Percy kissed her again. She leaned in once more to make up for teasing him before, deciding to let him join his lips to hers for as long as he wanted, until she noticed something. She had continued holding his hands in her own, and while rubbing his with her fingers, she felt the rough skin. She pulled away from him a bit and tried to see the details of his hand in the darkness. "Percy, what happened to your hand? It feels as if the skin has been rubbed raw. I think you've been keeping your gloves on too much, or perhaps they were too tight. Doesn't it hurt?"

He blinked and pulled back from her. Yes. His hands. For a moment in the darkness, he looked at her, almost a proud gleam in his eye. So badly he wanted to tell her what he had done. The truth behind the gloves. The clothes. How many times in the past four years had they passed one another on the street and it was not even realized. He playing the part of the beggar and her the upper class.

In the end, caution spoke the loudest and he gave a little laugh. "Silly story, really. Back in England" Here he gave a laugh. "I must warn you, you are not marrying the most balanced of men, nor can my wit ever compare with yours." She was a fast one. Hopefully by downplaying his own intelligence, she would believe his story. "I tripped really. Damn things, those small garden ropes. You know the kind I mean? Small, near invisible ropes to keep out rabbits and the like. Well, no sooner was I checking out the estate, I found myself walking in and out about the garden there. My boot catches hold one of these demmed invisible death traps and I down and forward I go! Whoosh! I had to let go of my cane and protect my head with my hands less it be my face scuffed up instead."

He felt he did a fairly good job with that one. After all, only hours before she saw him honestly ruin his best hat.

"Well Percy, you shouldn't have hidden your hands from me. Actually, you probably shouldn't have been wearing gloves such much, cuts and scraps need air to heal a bit." Marguerite rolled a little closer to Percy and let one hand wander along his side until they came to the pocket which held his gloves. She pulled the pair out and took them away from him. "I think I'll hold onto these until those hands get better." She said with a smile as she took one of his hands in her own. Carefully, she raised it to her lips and tenderly kissed the few healing marks on his hand.

"Pshaw!" He laughed. "I do think I could start the next wave in fashion with gloved hands constantly. Who wants to stare at a hairy man's hands during a meal?" Watching her kiss him with that look, he smiled and quieted his voice. "Of course, although I normally never take fashion advice from another.... there certainly is something to be said for your latest tip. Absence of, did you say?"

"That's right Percy." she said as she paused and took her lips away from his hand. "I will not have my fiancée scarring his lovely hands all for the sake of fashion." Marguerite moved so that she laid closer to Percy, still clutching his hand. She gave a soft sigh as she nuzzled close to her again. "Just think, at the end the week, my run will be over, then I get to go into a period of resting."

He felt her nuzzle in and wrapped his arm around her. In the darkness, hearing the small orchestra thought the curtain, it was a wonderful setting. He reminded himself once they were back in Richmond to do this often. Hire musicians to play as they walked about Blakeney Manor at night. What a wonderful way to spend a life.

"Maeve," he whispered in the darkness. "What will you do once your run is over?"

"I hadn't really thought about it Percy. The management insists that I take some time off before considering the next run, so whatever the next show they're doing is I won't be in. I suppose the expect me back for the run after that." Marguerite paused for a moment to consider things. "Although I suppose tonight changes everything."

"What if it changed meaning for you to never come back? Marry me Maeve. In one week, when your run is complete." Blakeney never was much for waiting once his mind was made up over a plan or idea. Best to execute it at once.

"This week Percy? So soon?" Marguerite knew marrying Percy meant giving up her career, she just hadn't realized she would have to give that and everything else up so soon. On the other hand, she had only known Percy about 5 weeks and she agreed to marry him. "You don't like to waste time do you Percy?"

"Not when I know what I seek." He said and leaned in to kiss her before she could reply.

"Everything is moving so fast," she said when their lips broke apart, "it only seems right to have a short engagement."

He nodded and gave no verbal reply. Instead, he gently took hold of her face in his hands. Feeling his skin on her soft tenderness, his breath quivered and he kissed her more rapidly.

Marguerite could feel his breath shake as the air swept across her cheek. As he began to kiss her once more, this time with more passion then previously that night, she pulled her own body closer to his, nearly draping herself over him. "I don't know how I managed before without you Percy," she said in between kisses, "with no one to hold me, to kiss me."

"Neither do I." His breath was a little short, and he even dared to lean slightly back when she neared so close. Keeping his arms wrapped about her, he pulled her back with him for good measure. The two continued in their own magical world for a while. The kissing growing more passionately in volume and speed. He felt as if he would burst.

Marguerite drew in several deep breaths as Percy pulled her body down over his. She could feel Percy continue kissing her, almost urgently. She wondered if inside he was still really afraid she would change her mind. Of course she knew she wouldn't, but her actions before hurt him, and she knew it.

Finally, she pulled her lips away from his, but rather then withdrawing, she nuzzled against his cheek, and listened to Percy as he struggled to regain his breath. once he had calmed down a bit, she ran her lips over his cheek nd neck in a teasing sort of way as she began to whisper. "You know Percy, if we're going to be married in one week, we have a lot of things to plan. We'll need a church, and a minister, I'll of course need a dress, and of course we'll need to choose a place for a honeymoon."

For a few moments that he wished would last forever, and seemed to be the closest thing to an eternity, the Baronet of Richmond felt content once more. The responses he received in return of his repetative attempts, richly filled his racing mind with relief. She did care for him with an equality as strong as his own. What could he say? In a way, he wished to whisper the three words most lovers do. His own mind kept his tongue away in a life long fear however.

Maeve whispered to him and he listened intently to her. How he would give her whatever she asked for. What was money to him but something used so infrequently unless done for an outlandish purpose? She wished for a dress? Over time he would purchase her hundreds. He nodded listening to her, kissing her hand and happily saying several times, "Whatever you wish for, I will grant you." She wanted a church or a minister? He would purchase her a cathedral of her very own if she asked.

His lips froze and the inquisitive blue eyes looked up at her as the kiss turned into a boyish grin against her hand. Honeymoon. Much training he had from the outlandish Prince of Wales in his youth on flirting and the like. He had read many things; from many foreign lands as well. Blakeney was nobody's fool. The Englishman taught and forced upon him all his life kept him modest, but no amount of teaching will suppress the natural urges of a man. His face took on a cocky grin at the very thought.

"Name the place. France. England. Ireland or Belgium. It is yours. I do not care where we go, as long as I am with you." The thoughts that penetrated his head were easily read on his face. What reason did the Baronet have to hide them? His fiancée had told him yes and that was all he needed to hear to follow her blindly and lovingly for the rest of his life.

Marguerite noticed the wide grin that had formed on Percy’s face and couldn't help but to giggle. She pressed her lips briefly to his before saying, "I don't think I have to ask you what you're thinking this time. Just one week." She paused and though for a minute as she looked into is eyes, which once more had taken on a happy glow. "Percy, can we go to the shore for the honeymoon? I don't really care exactly where, but I've never seen the ocean, or English channel or any of the seas for that matter."

Closing his eyes, the Baronet of Richmond nestled down into the crook of her shoulder, dangerously close to her bosom. Blakeney looked up at her, but made no effort to move his head away from the lovely masses that were so near. "I have been up and down the Channel like most people ride bicycles in their home town. If you would like a French sea port, there is Calais. If you would like a typical English one, there is Dover. Off my home in Richmond, there is an Inn or two along the coast. Very private sorts of places. Do you wish seclusion or busy town?" He inched his nose in a little, and pretended as if he had just adjusted himself all over. Not with his true intent. "Your very wish commands obedience."

Marguerite sighed as Percy rested his head against her side, so close to her bosom. She had to fight to suppress a small giggle as he tried to adjust himself lying next to her, perhaps his move was innocent, perhaps he was trying to make his move appear innocent, either way it didn't matter to her. She loved him and in a week they planned to be properly wed, though that wouldn't prevent her from performing the same seemingly as innocent movements now.

"I think for a honeymoon someplace a little more secluded would be better then a busy town, for obvious reasons." she answered him as she turned her body a bit onto her side, leaning a bit more towards him. Marguerite could feel herself flush slightly at the little game they played, and was glad the warm spring weather had allowed her to wear a dress with a soft rounded neckline as opposed to a high collar.

Her lips were moving, but his eyes were not on them. Never before had Blakeney been so near to the bosom that he had yearned for in the past four years. Why had he waited so long to approach this woman? How she reacted to him was something just slightly less than fantastic. He glanced up quickly at her, his lazy blues meeting her greens for only a moment. She did not seem to mind. In fact, if he was more experienced, he would be a hundred and ten percent sure that she was offering them to him.

So in tune with the non-verbal communication going on, Blakeney did not even pay attention to the fact that she just spoke. Oh, briefly he had watched her lips move, but just as quickly, she did turn taking all of his attention. Stretching his arm outward into the darkness, hearing the music of the ten piece orchestra behind the main curtain, he once more re-situated himself and moved in so his cheek rested against her exposed flesh. The movement was done slowly and not with a lot of confidence. The questioning eyes looked up at her to ensure that all was still well.

Marguerite watched as Percy cautiously moved and rested his head against her. She smiled and brought one hand up to stroke his hair. "It's alright Percy," she whispered, "I wouldn't have moved if I didn't want this." It was easy for her to guess that he might have been unsure and needed that little bit to reassure him. She moved her head up a bit to kiss his forehead before settling back into the cushions.

The breath he hadn't realized that was held now exhaled into the air. How wonderful this feeling was. Lying into her like this. His own personal set of cushions. On the floor, his hand yearned greatly to reach up and touch where his lucky cheek rested. To explore. He made no movement for this action though. He would be lucky enough to have each and every part of her in time. She said yes to him. He could live with that for now.

With her other hand she reached down and sought out his own, lacing her fingers with his. Everything seemed so right, so perfect. Had she really doubted this before?

The content face looked up at her and closed his eyes when her caressing fingers neared his cheek. "Just think, we can do this every night. Watch a sun set, or better yet... rise." The teachings of George the fourth were coming through. That along with the natural instincts of a man. His lower lip quivered a little. He was fighting the internal battle to tell her three words. Three words that could not be uttered by him. Instead, he turned his face and kissed the exposed flesh quickly once and lied still with his lazy lids firmly shut.

Marguerite shook a bit when Percy let his lips press against the soft skin of her chest. "I would love to sit and watch the sun set and then rise in the morning, but there's so much time in between each event. What would you propose we do to past the time then Percy?" Marguerite said with a small giggle.

The smile only grew on the Baronet's face and he opened his eyes, with purpose pressing his cheek against her chest. "I can think of a trick or two we might wish to try." The face did not redden more, for it was already a bit flushed in its current position. The British fop proudly spoke with confidence.

"Oh really now Percy?" Marguerite said as she began to take slower and deliberately deeper breaths, "anything you'd care to share with me?"

Well, she was asking for it, he thought. "Yes." He lifted his chin up a little so his lips were dangerously close to her chin. "I would first dance and dine you, like I am tonight. Then, as we took a stroll along the river bed of our new home in Richmond, we would climb up one of the hills and sit on a blanket. It wouldn't be one of the hills near the Manor. It would be out far near the woods where you can not see the house for it would be blocked by other hills. We would sit on this smaller hill where you can see the horizon......" He stopped, with a look at her that he didn't realize he was capable of.

Marguerite closed her eyes and began to envision the setting Percy described for her. She shook a bit with delight as she felt his warm breath brush across the underside of her chin. "Hidden between the woods and the hills? What on earth would we do then Percy?" she asked, encouraging him to continue.

Seeing her close her eyes effected him oddly. He loved it. His voice lowered seductively and kind and Blakeney continued, "We would watch the sun set deep within the hills in the distance. Just before it threatened to disappear, I would begin to kiss you." His eyes wandered around, searching out her face and exposed shoulders. "I would begin gently at your forehead and then work my way down. As I did this, I would begin untying those loose strings on your backside that I enjoy playing with so much....."

Marguerite felt he whole body suddenly grow warm as Percy spoke to her. She couldn't recall anything so romantic, so sensual, as listening to a man who had never so much as kissed a woman confess such desires to her. She had past experiences and so she wasn't actually holding anything back from him, but she kept herself from encouraging anything more then this type of talk tonight. Perhaps a sense of English propriety had rubbed off on her, but for now, she just wanted to lay in the cushions, close her eyes, and listen.

The beautiful young woman before him did not ridicule him for these desires he had. In fact, she seemed to relax and as she kept her eyes closed, it only told Blakeney to continue. "From there, I would partake in shedding those awful clothes from you." A smile crossed his face. Him. Percival Blakeney calling well tailored clothes awful. Every man has his breaking point.

The medium toned voice of the Baronet lowered and grew softer. "Once you were shed free from the clothes, as fresh as a Muse in the summer time, I would slowly step back, and watch the purple and pink sunlight flicker and glimmer off your delicate skin.

Marguerite continued to drink in everything Percy said to her, yet couldn't bare to share the true meaning of the joy she felt inside. to him, it was as if he was worshipping her body, wishing to be so gently, so tender with her. A contrast from some other previous experiences when her body was more of an object which she choose to share with others. She felt a bit of guilt for a moment, knowing that he would not be her first physical experience, but then again, he was the first to truly have her heart, and in the end that was what mattered most.

"When I could stand it no more, I would come quickly to you and continue the kiss, down your neck, bosom... until I had not missed an inch."

He paused now. He feared he sounded foolish. Who really kisses another person over every square inch of their body?

Marguerite, with her eyes still shut, reach up and found Percy's cheek, which felt warm and was very likely flushed as well. She wanted to pull him down and let her lips join his, but at the same time she knew that she wanted to allow him to continue if he wished. Instead she held him close to her and softly whispered his name.

She reached for him and it made him incredibly self conscious. Not a position he was used to being in. She called out his name softly. Perhaps to let him know he had spoken enough. He gave one soft nod of his head and closed his eyes too. Blakeney momentarily fell into silence and listened to the music coming from the pit beyond the curtain.

Marguerite waited, but he had fallen silent. She could feel that he was still near, leaning over her. She opened her eyes just slightly and smile, "what's wrong Percy, have you suddenly let modesty overcome you? Would you allow it so that it would keep you from sharing your secrets with your bride?"

The lazy blues opened and glanced up at her. Slowly, any inhibitions he had were disappearing as they held each other in their arms. "No." He answered almost defiantly. She was going to be his wife. "I assure you I will not let such a thing as modesty "overcome" me once we are wed. Of that I assure you."

Marguerite laughed a bit as she ran one hand through his hair. She guided his head down to once more rest against her. "So, does modesty flee once the vows are spoken?"

"I think the modesty fled once you said yes. Might I continue and I will prove it to you?" The cocky grin crossed his face and he stared up at Maeve, enjoying her fingers and nails through his hairline.

"Well, I would be very disappointed if you told be all that just to tease me and leave me know to wonder what else might be to come." she said in her teasing tone, hoping that he would still be open with her. He was sometimes hard to read, sometimes not very open, but she took this as a sure sign that he was becoming more able to open up to her.

He smiled at her and gladly continued, "I would continue to kiss you even beyond what was already covered. The night would grow dark and would could curl up in the blanket." Now his voice became a little withdrawn. Could he dare say it? Yes, he could. She *told* him she wished to hear it.

The tone in his voice got quieter, but she wanted him to continue so, she gently stroked his hair again, urging him to continue.

"I would do everything possible that a man could do to please you within the comforts of the blanket." His voice grew a whisper. In his mind, he imagined himself naked as a jay bird, hovering above her as she lay equally as "clothed as he" under him. The image in his head seemed unreal, and he looked at her as if he were lost. Lost between what could be real and what was real. Lost in the thoughts in his head of what literally came next.

His Adams apple gave the slightest jolt and he leaned up to kiss her chin. Finally, he whispered quietly, "I would make love to you Marguerite St. Just."

Marguerite finally drew in a deep breath. "Percy, I think that is the most romantic thing I have ever heard. But just one thing, you wouldn't be making love to Marguerite St. Just, but Madame Marguerite Blakeney." Marguerite Blakeney, she loved the sound of that.

All was well. She approved of his fears and ideas. Maeve made him feel good for what extremely vulnerable thing he just spoke upon. Hearing her, the smile on his face broadened, if such a thing were even possible. His gaze looked down at his ring upon her hand. He lifted the fingers and kissed the ring, then kissed the hand.

With a cocky and wise look, the lazy blues looked at her. The grin took on a teasing manner and he laughed, "No. You are wrong. I would be," he was enjoying saying this part, "making love to *Lady* Marguerite Blakeney." He had to add her name to it, less he envision a family member long past.

Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet who was raised on a ship, forced silent through the years, treated like a fool and cared not for any woman save the one before him, spoke of love. It was not in a sonnet or song. It was not said outright, but he felt it. Sir Percy finally knew he was in love, even if still he could not bring himself to say the words directly to the object of his desire.

Marguerite sighed. "Lady Marguerite Blakeney. I never thought I would ever be called anything but Mlle. Marguerite Saint-Just." she said as she turned and bent her head a bit to place a gentle kiss in his soft hair which had been brushing against her chin.

"Percy, you said you had been watching me for four years on Paris stages. Why did you wait until a few weeks ago to approach me? I don't even think I remember you from any salons and even at the stage door after a performance." Marguerite asked.

Snuggling his head to rest more into her bosom, the content aristocrat from England smiled up at her. He thought of the real motivator to answer her question: Lord Dewhurt's taunt. Somehow, he did not think the truth would be very complimentary to his new fiancée. He spoke the truth, but left out Tony's statement of Blakeney growing old alone.

"I made up my mind that it was time to act upon what I wanted. To see perhaps if a bloody old bloke like me could finally go up and speak with you. I had hopes to marry, but decided I had best get to know you first." This last part he said with a smile, for he did not mean it as if he expected her to say yes.

Marguerite smiled as he shifted to lean more into her warm body, resting contentedly against her. "So, for four years, you followed my career, watched me grow, and virtually fell in love with the image you saw on stage, so much so you had thoughts of marriage, and it took you all of four years to finally decide to speak to me." Marguerite took her hand which was stroking his hand and brought it to rest over his cheek, holding him close to her. "Well Percy, I'm glad you waited."

Hearing her speak it back, it almost sounded strange to he. "virtually fell in love with the image you saw on tage...." There was that word again. Over time he found himself cringing upon hearing it. In her arms, lying submissively before her, he did not pull back nor did he take to dislike. Something changed.

His head nodded in agreement to her last statement. Part of him wondered if he wasted years by waiting and he quickly reminded himself that a man of 28 would have little chance with a girl of sixteen. "Yes, I am glad I waited as well Maeve." He stood up now, kissing her gently on her hands.

"Might we go back out and dance?" His smile shown his semi-straight pearly whites as the languid expression of his eyes watched her.

Marguerite smiled as he asked her to dance, although he meant that he was no longer snuggling so close to her. "I would love to." she said as she lifted a hand up for him to help lift her from her bed of cushions.

He led her out to the front of the stage, where they could hear the small orchestra but failed to see them. The music played on and he tried to hum along with it in his off-keyed nature that was habitual for Blakeney. He smiled and danced with her gently, watching her as she moved. Grace. It was the word that came to his mind while he enjoyed the presence before him.

Marguerite smiled as Percy silently lead her out to the stage. He didn't seem to hold her as close as he usually does, but instead held her back a bit and watched her as she moved with him in a dance. Not that she minded. Before, she had used the lack of space between them to hide her tears and the worried expression she knew her face wore. Now that she was content and happy, she wanted to look into Percy's soft eyes. She started to giggle as Percy gave another attempt to hum with the orchestra. Instead of poking a bit of little fun she too joined in, humming along a somewhat simple tune, a little closer to key then Percy. "Now Percy, do you plan to hum the entrance music as I walk down the aisle at our wedding?"

The grand smile remained hearing her join him in a hum but his humming did not last. He laughed boldly hearing her question, shaking his head. "Ah, once more you use your charming wit at me, do you not Milady?" He squeezed her hand and brought her to the front of the stage of the empty opera house and danced in large circles in the manner of his time. "I can, if you like. However trying to be loud enough for you to march properly my voice my become to dry and hoarse for the response of "I shall" of that very most important question. No. I think I shall not hum that day, save out of nerves." Blakeney turned her under his arm and his blues never left her spinning form.

Marguerite giggled again as Percy swung her around so. Once back in his arms she smiled brightly at him, true happiness pouring from her heart. They slowed gradually as the music from one song ended before the next began. Almost as if by cue, the orchestra began a soft, familiar French tune. Marguerite leaned in and whispered, "Perhaps I should sing to you then." as she began to sing along with the orchestra the same tune that she sang for him that night in the bistro. In a hushed voice she sang to him, sure the air escaping from her lips were causing a gently breeze like feeling across his ear and cheek.

When the song had ended, she moved to look into his eyes again, "Do you expect you'll be nervous on the day we marry Percy?"

More of the content feeling encompassed him as she sang what he secretly deemed "his song". A part of him yearned to sing it with her, in French, but he deciding not to ruin the beautifulness of it all. So many thing happening so fast. He could always surprise her the day of their wedding by answering to her the "I shall" in her native tongue. Wouldn't that be fun?

"I have been told all brides and bride grooms are nervous upon such a day. I can not say what I expect, but I look forward to it just the same." He leaned in and kissed her neck in a forward manner with others so close at hand. Then the Baronet lead her around once more in fun swirls and spins. He loved dancing with Marguerite St. Just so. "Well, I'm sure everything will be just perfect, after all, we already have the perfect couple, what more do we need." Marguerite gleefully smiled and laughed as Percy swung her around. Pausing for a moment she looked up at him, "I think you've just about worn me down today Percy, ever did you ever get so much energy?"

He laughed again full heartedly hearing her. "What more do we need indeed?" Hearing his favorite little rhyme, he chuckled again and gave her a spin. "I can't say I've thought about that before... the energy part. I suppose it comes and goes as life takes its toll." Blakeney gave a small grin. He did love to be silly so.

Marguerite smiled and placed a loving little peck on the end of his nose. "I don't think I've every meet anyone that can go from being so serious to so silly in such a short time."

A proud smile beamed across his face. "Well, I think I was right a few weeks prior. Perhaps you just have been hanging around the wrong Englishman." He took her in his arms in a hug.

Marguerite snuggled closer to Percy as he hugged her, "I think I've been hanging around with the wrong men altogether." she leaned back and gave him a soft kiss, "Where have you been all my life."

"Well, there was that Isle they call England. Then of course there was the trip to Egypt. Do not forget Rome and Indonesia." He lead her back to the table which was cleared and moved his chair directly next to hers. Then he held hers for her to sit down.

"Percy, after we're married, can we travel around Europe? You been to so many places and it was rare I would even leave the city of Paris. I actually don't think I've ever been out of France." Marguerite said as he led her back to the table. She nodded as she took a seat, turned her head to hid a small yawn. The day had been long and she was slowly growing sleepy, but she didn't want to leave Percy just yet.

It was contagious. Her yawn quickly traveled to him and in a manner more comfortable of Sir Percy, he did little to cover it up or hide. Languidly, his voice sauntered about, "Oh, I suppose where you would like to go would suit me just fine. Ireland. Scotland. Spain. Egypt. Belgium. Rome. Greece. Hell, I have yet to wet my feet on the soil of the Americas. Not a very fashionable place, to say the least but perhaps when more sores have healed I had thought of purchasing land there. What do you think? Would any of that appeal to you?"

He spoke of these places as if he were ordering a cup of tea. Travel and lots of it was not something new to Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet.

Marguerite's eyes widened as Percy mentioned all the places he had visited. Foreign countries that he spoke of as she spoke of streets and stores and cafes in Paris. And when he even mentioned the Americas, a place Marguerite had never dreamed of. She sat there speechless for some time after he had mentioned them. "Oh Percy," she finally managed, "Yes, yes of course, they all interest me. I envy you so, getting to see all the world while I sit and wondered through the streets of Paris."

Her little face made him smile as the green eyes grew more wide and beautiful. "Well, my dear. Hardly a thing to envy. One could say I paid a heavy price to see such things. No matter." He quickly changed the subject. Not a good idea to rehash a past he vowed long ago to never speak ill of. "You tell me which interest you first, and we will have to concentrate on that and work our way out over time, say?"

Glancing about, he noted the time was growing later. "I hate to bring up such a dreadful thing, but it does appear that the hour grows so and I should see you safely home." He stood and reached for her hand, his lazy blues proudly observing his ring on the future Lady Blakeney's finger.

"It is such a dreadful thing for you to bring up, and if you were not correct I would scold you terribly for it." Marguerite said as she let him take her hand. Standing next to him she stepped closer to him, "I wish this night could last forever."

Blakeney chuckled a little, hearing her. "Then I suggest we continue on our present course to make a lifetime of nights like this one." The proud bride-groom had paid prior his arrangements with the staffs for hire and began to escort her home. He walked in silence enjoying the cool night air on his face, the smell of her sweet perfume in his nostrils and the touch of her small hand on his arm.

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