"Zounds!" He swore and slammed his fist down on the table. Some of
the Parisian guests turned their head to stare at the Englishman and
Blakeney stood. Throwing down some francs, for he momentarily forgot
Marguerite had already done so for herself, he turned and headed
after her.
Part of him wished to let her go, but another stronger part could not
stand the fact that she was leaving him. Catching up to her, he took
her by the elbow. "Stop please."
Marguerite was a ways down the block when she felt a pull on her arm. She turned ready to push the grabber away only to find herself looking up into Percy's eyes. Marguerite, slightly out of breath from her frantic walking pace, felt her lips tremble and a few fresh tears come her eyes. She didn't run, and she didn't fight, she just looked up at him, wanting all of this to end.
"You're trembling..." he said softly and hugged her to him. "Please
Marguerite...." Blakeney knew not the words to comfort her, so he
only held her close. "Please let's stop this...."
All she needed was that little bit. Once he put his arms around her she
let her arms slide around him, tightly hugging him close to her as she
buried her face in his chest.
Letting her weep, he remained holding her for a while. To what
purpose women wept, he knew not. Again, he felt the pressure of
saying something that would have only half a chance of pleasing her.
Fearing the road of upsetting her again, Blakeney remained still,
gently stroking her long, beautiful hair.
Marguerite's sobbing slowed as she felt his hand brush through her
hair. She sniffled a bit and slowed her breath as she continued to rest
her head against her chest. "We need to stop this Percy. We're both
being so foolish."
He nodded and agreed with her. "Yes Maeve... quite." He kissed
her hair and thought about his missed meal. He would go hungry
tonight, but it was not the first time. Blakeney would survive.
"I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I should have told you what I was
feeling, how you offended me, what was bothering me." Marguerite sniffled, looking up but not directly into his eyes. "Could you ever forgive me Percy?"
"It is a misunderstanding that needs not an apology." He hugged her
close once more and lifted her chin with his index finger. How he
loved to look into those exotic green eyes.
Leaning down, he kissed her.
Marguerite let a few tears drop to become trapped in between her cheek and his as Percy kissed her. After she let him caress her lips with his, she pulled back slightly and looked up at him. "Percy, make me a
promise. Promise that we'll never let this happen again. The next time
we argue or have a misunderstanding right then and there we solve. I
never want to go through this again."
He smiled lovingly. "I can not promise things which I can not
control, but we can certainly try."
His response only made her cry again. "No Percy, no, we have to promise, promise that we won't let such things do this to us again. I don't want to be upset or depressed or angry like I am now."
He knew not what to say. No matter what he spoke of today, the woman
who made him happy ended in tears or sorrowful hurt due to his
actions. It was quite straining on the Englishman, and he stroked
her hair more to calm.
Blakeney knew he was not well versed in such affairs of emotional
tides that swept about swifter than the sea. Marguerite would have
been better off asking him to catch a wave and ride it about like a
horse. No matter, he wished to end her pain. Quickly, even if it
meant speaking ill-trained on the topic.
"Alright, alright." the soothing voice of the Baronet attempted. "I
don't wish to see you upset. Please... please stop crying." He
offered her the lace handkerchief from his sleeve. Lud, but she was
a strangely exciting creature.
Marguerite rubbed her eyes and sniffled. She quietly took the
handkerchief he offered and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Just say I promise Percy. That's all I want, is to hear you say it."
With closed eyes, hugging her so close he was near intoxicated by her
scent, Percy's lips parted slowly. "I promise....." He did not
think of the repercussions of the words; only it seemed to be a way
to please Maeve.
Marguerite sighed as she heard him make the promise to her. She sniffled and hugged him tighter. "I want you to know that I didn't go back to the church, or to the graveyard because I was upset with you."
"Why did you leave then?" The obvious was oblivious to the Baronet.
Marguerite sniffled, "I always visit my parent's grave when ever I come to the church. Then we left, and I realized I hadn't. I was upset over what you said, and realizing I had ignored them, I felt terrible. It's
probably the one of the last times I'll be there for a long time."
He nodded and kissed the top of her forehead. It was a very nice
thought. A very sentimental gesture. He had no use for such things, but could respect others when they carried them out.
Marguerite looked up into Percy's eyes as he held her. She remained
still, lightly sniffling still until remind of the time. Gently she
tugged on Percy's arm, noting she had to be on her way to the theatre.
"Yes, I suppose we have let this afternoon creep away from us, say? Might I escort you Milday St. Just?" He smiled, glad the worst was over.
Marguerite nodded and smiled. For a final time she wiped her eyes on his handkerchief and handed it back to him as she brushed a few fingers
through her hair.
Taking back the hanky, Blakeney tucked it under his sleeve and began to
lead her to the theatre. He was glad to be able to sit in the
theatre. Perhaps even dare nap if he could manage it. Their argument
had sucked the energy from the soles of his boots.
Marguerite laced her arm though his as they peacefully walked along to the theatre. they were quiet again, but this time it was a serene silence, not tense or frightening. She gave a few simple sighs as she rested her head against his arm as they walked.
The walk was not a long one and Percy knew the way. As they neared her
entrance, Blakeney turned her to face him and leaned down. Gently
brushing the side of her face with his hand, he took her mouth fully and
gently. Closing his eyes, he envisioned the night to come in only a few
more sunsets.
Marguerite closed her arms around him as he kissed her. Letting her lips be caressed over and over by his, she tried to hold him close even when he finally pulled away from her. "You will meet me after the performance this evening Percy." she said, more as a question than a statement.
"Of course." He smiled and kissed the top of her hand in a
gentlemanly manner. It was not as satisfying as her lips, but it was how the English departed.
"Don't meet me here," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "Come up to
my dressing room."
One single dark blond eyebrow raised. Meet in her dressing room? Such a thing for a gentleman to agree too. "As you wish." He quickly agreed at once.
Marguerite smiled and leaned up, kissing him quickly on each cheek. "I'll look for you from the stage." she said with a giggle before finally stepping back and to the heavy door leading to the backstage.
He stood there, not daring to leave until the last thread of her
dress was out of his view. Pulling out his pocket watch, Blakeney
noted that there was still well over an hour before the theatre would
be seating their patrons. In his off-key way, he strolled slowly
towards a small strip of street to get a good meal. He had been
deprived earlier, but his stomach would have no more of that nonsense.
Marguerite went up to her dressing room. Most of her personal belongings and decorations where now gone it is was rather dull and plain, not the sanctuary it was as recent as last week. She sat down and sighed, already missing Percy as she prepared for the performance that evening.
When the last part of his meal was consumed, and the clerk paid,
Blakeney enjoyed a little alone time wandering the streets on the
markets of Paris. Sellers were everywhere and seeing his fine
clothes, they took to him like dogs on a bone.
He purchased a few items, including the usual piece of fruit that was
habitual to the Baronet. As the sun sank low across the skyline, his
can tapped along the street and his feet steered him towards the
theatre. He had seen Maeve perform this piece over a dozen times,
and while he enjoyed it, he knew he could get a bit of rest once the
house lights dimmed.
Such was the life of the Baronet.
Marguerite took the stage for what would be one of her last
performances. She continued to sneak a peak into the boxes, towards the
one where Percy usually sat whenever she could. in the dim light she make out his shadow. At t he intermission, rather then settle down and rest, she searched about looking for a quill and paper to scribble a hasty note to Percy, which she sent off with a prop boy telling him he could come back stage before the final curtain fell to find her room before she was rushed off to the stage for the second act.
He was poked into awareness by a small boy, thrusting a paper into
his hand. Upon opening it, the Baronet smiled. She was reminding
him to meet her backstage. He had been backstage before, and this
time, he would avoid all falling backdrops in order to save his hat.
The second act began and Blakeney fell out of habit asleep in the
box. Luckily he was not a snoring man and did not draw attention to
him. When the clapping sounded at the end, he bolted upright, the
house lights still not on, and stood quickly. Quietly he left the
box seat, clapping as he went, with the note tucked in his hand.
As Marguerite took her bow for the evening, she looked up to see that
Percy's box was empty. "good," she thought to herself, "he got my note
and is on his way." She smiled to herself as she dashed back to her
dressing room to meet him.
Being in her dressing room was a fun event. He heard the muffled
sound of the final curtain calls and strolled around the room,
peeking into closets of costumes and the like. When he heard
footfalls approach, the impish boy inside hid behind the door.
Marguerite bounced into her room to find it empty. She shrugged her
shoulders and swung her foot back to kick the door over as she pulled her screen out, the new one she arranged for since Percy's last visit to her dressing room, and stepped behind it to change.
He had waited for her to walk in, so he could hug her and kiss her in
surprise. Instead, she took him unexpectedly by her bounding in like
an antelope, one he had seen as a child on a trip to Africa. She
swished past him and moved behind her screen. Lifting a finger, the
Baronet laughed, "Now this is one way to receive a guest properly. I
hope not everyone becomes this treatment."
Marguerite nearly jumped, she was so startled by his voice. "Percy, how
ong have you been standing there? Goodness, for your own sake I suppose it's good I stood behind the screen."
Blakeney laughed good naturedly and punned, "How ' ong' ? It seems
I've scared the L out of you."
"Well, you'll have to excuse my poor English." Marguerite said as she
began to undo the back of her costume.
"Your English would run circles around my French." He teased.
Looking down, Blakeney grabbed hold of a chair and pulled it where he
stood. Sitting in it, he had quite the best seat in the entire
house, watching her silhouette behind the screen.
"So, you never did answer my question." she said as she slipped out of
her costume and tossed it onto a nearby chair for one of the dressers to
care for later. "How long were you there?"
"Hours... days.... " He leaned back in the chair and smiled, his
eyes following the discarded dress and then returning to the
screen. "Does the theatre charge extra for this? I say, I should
buy stock in it, if it does."
Marguerite shook her head at his first response and then poked her head
around the edge of the screen, hiding most of her partially clad body
from him. "Charge extra for what Percy?"
"Of course," he continued in his ample silly way, "In a few days I
would have to pound any person who dared to partake in this show
watching. As I've heard husbands tend to do."
Marguerite blushed and ducked backed behind her screen. "In a few days
you'll see the real show." she said to tease him, wishing she could see
his reaction.
"Mmmmmm." Was the reply as he thought on that for a while.
Carefully she fixed her dress over her clothes and stepped out from
behind the screen to take a seat with Percy as she put her stockings
and shoes on. She thought that there was little harm in that much.
He felt himself becoming uncomfortable, and yet invigorated watching
her. She already aroused his curiosity with the 'few days' picture
that would not leave. Or perhaps he wished not to erase the
beautiful image from his mind. Quiet as a mouse, Blakeney stared at
her feet.
Marguerite finished pulling on one sock and shoe and looked up at Percy as she fixed the second stocking. "You've suddenly gone quiet. I hope
you're not so modest that this much offends you."
"If you wish to test my modestly, please, take them off and do it
again."
Marguerite looked at the shoe in her hand and then back at Percy. She
scooted her chair over a bit closer to him and sat down. As she did, she lifted her bare foot to rest on his leg.
He became obviously uncomfortable again, and exhaled loudly in
an "Uhhhh.." sort of manner. He looked around the room, hearing
slight voices of the other cast members and staff somewhere in the
belly of the theatre. Blakeney did not care. He wrapped his arms
around her and kissed her deeply, unable to resist her further.
Marguerite let her foot drop to the floor as he kissed her. She welcomed him and gently brought her arms up to wrap around his neck and
shoulders. She stood and lean towards him, guiding him back into the
chair he was seated in and moved to sit on his lap as she let him continue kissing her.
She pushed him back in the chair and the man allowed her to do as she
pleased. Hell. She could have done near anything and he would have
gone along with it. As she moved to sit so near, he pulled her close
in welcome and softly whispered her name between passionate kisses.
Marguerite breath deep sighs as she heard him whisper her name several
times over between kisses. She moved one hand down and over his
shoulder. Gently rubbing his should and his chest. she let her lips leave his ad brush his jaw and then his neck as she let her still bare foot touch his leg.
Lifting his neck, he rendered himself powerless in her grasp. "You
are truly going to do me in," he spoke in a breathy manner. "Your
note said to meet you. What do you propose we do, Mlle St Just."
Marguerite let her hand slide up and caress one side of his neck as she
continued to let her lips gently roam the other. She toyed with his
cravat and finally moved to gently rub him as she let her fingers slide
under the find fabric of his collar. "I don't care what we do, as long as we're together." she began in between kisses. "I was so awful to you earlier, I just want to forget it, and make it up to you. We can do
whatever you want."
He kissed her and before the thought could form properly in his head,
he blurted it out, "Marry me tonight."
"I wish I could," Marguerite said. She smiled as she remember when he
asked the same thing in the park a few nights earlier. "Only a few days, just a few more days before we can officially be called husband and wife." she whispered in between kisses as she looked at the diamond ring on her finger.
He tugged a little at her sleeve and smiled in a cocky sort of
manner. "You did say we could do whatever I wished.... Marry me
tonight."
"I know I did, but perhaps I could try to change your mind." Marguerite
said. "Do you really want to go walking around the city at this time of
night looking for a priest to marry us. I could think of better things to do."
"What might those thoughts of yours be?"
Marguerite let herself settle down and leaned against him. She moved to
lead his hand to wrap around her waist. Once more she caressed his face
and let her lips move over his. "Well, if you're so modest, I'm not sure I should share them."
"I would never force them from a Lady." He grinned and calmed down.
She had him. She always had him.
"I'm more than willing to share Percy, if you wish it." she whispered
into his ear before gently kissing his ear lobe.
"Mmmmmmmmm......" he closed his eyes and enjoyed the nibbling.
"mmmmm?" that's all you have to say to convince me to share my secrets?' Marguerite, "or are you simply enjoying being smoother with my kisses?"
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm............" he repeated, leaning his chin all the
way back. "I am like jelly in your hands. Useless to move when the
delicate touch is so near."
"Is that so?" she whispered as she moved to kiss along his jawline and
his chin. She could sense how her touch had affected him, though jelly
wasn't the word she'd used to describe it. "I may consider stopping then, I had hope for some other things like strong arms wrapping me into a tight embrace, and sweet kisses of my own to cherish."
"Mmmmm....." He added a third time and complied with the Lady's
request. "Forgive the foolish gentleman. My actions and heart are
yours to command." Blakeney was all too happy to touch her, as his
embrace was lustful and his lips made many attempts to gently swallow
the kisses she offered freely.
After allowing him to kiss her lips several times she pulled away a bit and looked into his eyes. She brought one hand up to touch his cheek and she gently let her fingers move over one side of his face. "Why do you always say that Percy?" she finally quietly asked.
Opening his eyes slowly, Blakeney looked in a confusing sort of way
at her. "Say what exactly my Maeve?" He brought her hand up to his
lips, for they were not exactly done, but slowed down. He kissed
them tenderly, while the lazy blues looked up at her in almost a
boyish manner.
Boyish thoughts were not on the Baronet's mind.
Marguerite squeezed his hand as she continued to peer into his
eyes. "Call yourself foolish, Percy." she said, almost sadly. "I don't think you're foolish. I wish you wouldn't say such things."
He laughed. To ask Blakeney not to continue how he lived all his
years, despite present company, was to ask a cat to not squabble with
its fellow neighbor. "Ah," he countered, "but my heart is so ever an
English fool, for when you are near, all sense of sensibility ceases
in my brain." He kissed her hand once more, and held it on her lap.
She felt very good so near.
"Would you deny to me that men lose all knowledge of purpose when in
your presence? I understand it is difficult for my thoughts to
remain clear... with you so near." He leaned in and rubbed his
cheek against hers.
Marguerite gave a slight giggle as she breathed into his ear, "I don't
think that's true. I think you know exactly what you're doing and exactly what you want." She was taunting him, and loving it, as she moved a bit, letting her cheek and nose continue to brush against his until she began to feel his warm breath brush across her neck.
"Meew-owe?" He teased, slaughter the French on purpose for her with
his thick English accent. Gently, he rubbed the tip of his nose
along her ear.
Marguerite giggled listening to him attempt to speak French. "yes, I
still do believe we shall need to see that you receive some sort of French tutoring in French." she teased as she felt him gently tickle her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
"Who will teach me?" he coyly asked.
Marguerite continued to let her cheek brush against his. She let one hand run down and over his arm as her other one still rested in his on her lap. She move a bit and turned so his hand was resting on her
leg. Through her light skirts she could feel him, and she wished to that she could have married him that night.
"Well,” she teased, "I'm not sure. Of course Armand and I learned just
from living her, and I was never educated. Perhaps Armand could find you a tutor."
She ended the party rather quickly with the thought of one of Armand's
little friends. He had something a little more intimate and female
in mind. "Indeed." He frowned in a way that told her he was not
serious.
"Well, you don't seem to pleased with that Percy. Such a shame, I was
planning on spending hours and hours making sure your practiced and kept
up on your studies, and perhaps going over a few things I doubt any tutor would teach you." she said let her lips gently run across his ear lobe.
"You have re-peeked my interest..... keep talking." He rubbed her
leg a little, where she placed his hand. He watched her, fairly
confident this was okay, but one should always check.
Marguerite smiled as he touched her leg. She pulled her hand out of his
and lifted it and turned his hand over, to let his palm rest on her leg
instead of the back of his hand. "Well, as with anything, learning about French take practice. I shall demand that you spend an extensive amount of time alone with me, so that I can make sure you're learning it
properly. Of course, I shall have to make sure you have some properly
cooked French foods, so I shall have to occasionally invade your kitchen
to prepare it for you, and make sure you eat every bite of anything I
make. Of course, I'm sure there are a few things that may be considered
improper for a tutor to teach, so I'll take care of those things myself."
Her actions stole the very words from his lips. The images of his
new life taking a liking with his personality. Blakeney liked this.
He liked it a lot. Gently he hugged her and squeezed. So much in
love.
"Well?" she asked, a bit impatiently, "are you feeling a bit better
about learning French now Percy?"
He was really enjoying this 'lesson' idea. Far be it from him to
tell her he spoke it flawlessly since age ten. Dialect of Paris and
all. "I think I am warming up to the idea. Minus Armand and his
friends."
“Well, perhaps we can arrange something about that then." Marguerite
said, as she once more moved close to begin to gently let her lips touch
his cheek and neck again.
There was a knock at the door, as one of the assistants came in to
help Marguerite, Percy could only imagine, out of her costume.
Seeing her lady already changed and sitting on a man's lap, she gave
an outward sound of surprise.
Having this whole scenario happen before him, Percy blushed but this
time made no move to get up at the random pace of previous. He did
not look at the girl however, and English manners demanded.