The Manor Once More

Therese looked at the address silently. Who was this woman? The name was simply "Helene Leroux," without any titles or descriptions that might give a hint as to who she was. The man Armand St. Just had called "Percy" had told them to contact her in a few days.

Richard paced the small inn room on the other side, muttering to himself. Every so often Therese caught a few words: "...a man of property...don't take handouts from anyone...certain standards to live up to...."

The Frenchwoman's eyes darted to the table, where a neat quantity of money lay, untouched. Her eyes returned to the address she held; she dared not interrupt her husband's musings.

He finally spun round to face her, almost vehemently. "I will not take the--the *charity--*" his lip twisted-- "of some plebian Englishwoman!"

"Richard..." she said softly, but he continued, this time in a calmer tone but no less strongly. "We will go to Austria, where your brother is. Perhaps his family will be able to help us." Therese's brother had married a well-to-do Frenchwoman whose father had had the connections to move the family to Austria when the trouble started.

Therese thought about pointing out that it would be charity whomever gave them help, but decided not to hurt her husband's wounded pride even more. "Very well," she answered mildly, ready to follow where he led.

Helene rose early, as was her custom, and donned one of the elegant dresses she and Marguerite had purchased in town. Leaving Louise to sleep a little longer, she went downstairs. It had already become a habit with her to take a walk before breakfast while the rest of the household still slept.

She didn't know that Sir Percy and Armand had returned during the night, and was still oblivious to that fact when she came back inside to the dining room. The staff was about as usual, attentively asking what she would like to eat for breakfast. Still not quite sure what they were in the habit of serving, she told them anything would be fine, and settled down to eat.

It was with great effort he put on the face of Sir Percy and headed down the stairwell and into the grand foyer. Marguerite's appearance worried him and the feeling of guilt could not be helped but loom over him like an awaiting bird waiting to unveil.

For the moment, Percy Blakeney forgot that he was the Scarlet Pimpernel. He did not think on himself being England's richest fool and he erased any other thoughts save the mysterious condition of Lady Blakeney. Rubbing on his elbow, dressed in always something fine, even for around the Manor, he walked right into the kitchen without so much as a sound or start.

Halfway through her breakfast, Helene was startled by some shouts emanating from upstairs. "Is something wrong?" she asked one of the servants, who was presently serving her.

The girl looked slightly disturbed. "I don't believe so, miss. It is probably Sir Percy calling for something..." Nevertheless, she scurried away quickly, doubtless to see whether her presence was needed.

Helene sat still for a moment. So, Sir Percy had returned in the night. She momentarily rehearsed her mindset of only having met him once, at the theatre. And wondered what his arrival would portend.

She was just finishing her breakfast when he entered, quietly as a cat.

Jerking his head back in surprise, he said. "Sink me, I certainly forgot your presence." Realizing his quick error of ease in recognition and comfort with Helene, Blakeney added, "Just this morning Lady Blakeney told me of another presence here, and by God! Before me is a presence!" His tone took on a less casual drawl and taking a step back, he donned Sir Percy's smile.

Helene couldn't help smiling at his quirky sense of humor. Feeling it natural to show respect for the master of the house, although unsure of the proper etiquette for doing so, she stood to greet him. "Good morning, Sir Percy." She wondered if she should remind him of who she was, since they had, after all, _only met at the theatre,_ but by his words Marguerite had already spoken to him about that. Marguerite! How was she? But there was no time to wonder on it now...her mind raced for polite conversation. "I trust your business went well?"

"Well? Bah! Had a devilish of a time picking out a new pair of boots. Damn me. Went through five pairs and upon seeing the sixth pair, went to purchase it, but it slipped through my fingers. 'Out of fabric', damn me again!" Shaking his head, Blakeney wondered if Helene would know he was talking about prisoners. He guessed for now, probably not.

She had to smile incredulously at his words. No wonder Marguerite had been so bitter at his playing the fool. Somehow, though, it did not seem fair that she knew her friend's husband's true character while Marguerite did not. She wondered why he had not told her.

Though at that very moment she was wondering whether his business had been in France or whether it was truly at a boot maker’s--unlikely, she thought--and although she did find his wording a trifle odd, she did not connect his prattle about boots with prisoners, only with a foppish disguise. "I am...sorry to hear about your boot debacle, Sir Percy. Unfortunately, I am not an expert on the subject." She meant boots, not freeing prisoners, as she had not understood his allusion.

So distraught at seeing Lady Blakeney and having her flee from him, he was eager to try and share his news with one who at least might understand. Grinning at a servant girl that went by, he laughed, "Finding my boot dilemma tragic, do you? Good girl." He gave her a wink and looked back to Helene.

"Ah yes. Helan, wasn't it?" Sir Percy leaned in over her and cocked his head like a foxhound, observing her. "Delighted to see you again. Say.... aren't you with child?" He asked as bluntly and openly as if she wished for some tea.

She guessed what he meant immediately, but was startled by the way he posed the question. She opened her mouth to respond to his obvious reference to Louise, but he had continued on.

Blakeney did not wait for the usual womanly reaction and without missing a beat continued, "You know... that little other sort of sproutish creature. The sleeper from the theatre?"

She nodded; she had gotten it the first time. "Yes, sir; she's here with me now. Thank you for the hospitality you have shown us." She smiled. "And it's a pleasure to see you again as well, sir." She hoped he got more from her words than some random meeting at the theatre.

"Sink me! Think nothing trivial of it." He lifted his hand and covered his mouth in a lazy yawn and moved over to the kitchen where Gail, one of the kitchen staff, promptly asked him what he would like to eat.

"I think I have swallowed enough in one day to last me quite some time, my dear. Thank you." Leaning on the counter, he glanced over at Helene. "Where is the little Sleeper anyway? It would be nice to see her again."

He thought of Lady Blakeney and Frank, upstairs perhaps they were. Maybe Frank could get her to calm down from being so demmed dramatic. 'Serves me right for wedding with an actress,' he decided. Thinking on the Sprout, he wondered how the wounded boy was doing. Better to let Armand rest than wake him.

Looking at Helene, he didn't realize he let his mind wander. If she answered him, he blinked and just gave a little smile. "Perhaps I could find the Sleeper when she wakes." He would not admit he liked the attention from the little girl. She was non judgmental and her small fingers had gripped onto him for dear life. Like she needed him. It was a nice feeling.

He had nothing of importance to attend to immediately, so in his Sir Percy manner, Blakeney hung around bored in the kitchen and flirted with Gail and the staff. Even the men. Sometimes, being the stupid Baronet was downright fun.

A young maid had wandered through the house looking for the master of the house. Upon hearing the laugh, she followed the sound to find him in the kitchen, "Excuse Sir Percy," she said, "but Lady Blakeney has requested that you join her upstairs in her chambers."

He had stuck to teasing young Roger, one on Thomas's crew. He had been following the poor man around in the kitchen, mocking the young man's stiff walk and proper sentence structure. Poor Roger turned purple trying not to retaliate against the master of the house. Blakeney loved picking on Thomas's crew. He could not directly bother the man, but he certainly could have fun in a gay sort of manner.

"Lighten up there chap! This isn't the Royal Palace you are tending to. Certainly I'm a far cry from properness. Why look at you. Walking about as if the floor made from glass and the walls would break if your voice became loud enough to hear." With that, he laughed and clapped his the counter. That is when his whole demeanor changed.

One of the hand maidens of Lady Blakeney came and delivered the message. All the fun and life drained from Sir Percy's face as if he knew he was going upstairs to be punished. The light died down and his lids fell back into a lazy manner while his posture tensed.

"Yes. Yes of course." He coughed and cleared his throat and nodded to Helene. "If you will excuse me Madame." Turning, almost painfully, he left the kitchen and headed up the stairs.

Helene was so stunned by his reaction that she barely mustered herself to murmur, "Of course, sir," in response to his request for pardon. What in the world was going on here? By coming to work at the Manor, had she jumped from the frying pan to the fire? She looked around at the staff. Some had paused for a moment with traces of concern or consternation, though nothing obvious enough to be unprofessional. Just a slight catch, and then they were back to work.

Helene blinked her eyes a few times and shook her head slightly, trying to figure things out. Marguerite had some inexplicable illness. She seemed to be horribly angry at her husband for some reason. Sir Percy was, meanwhile, making numerous business trips without concern for her and probably numerous trips to France without her knowledge at all. And he had just shown that going upstairs to her would be an obvious ordeal. What was going on? Even with what she knew, things weren't adding up.

She realized that the servants were politely glancing at her out of the corners of their eyes where she stood leaning against one of the counters. Figuring she was in the way but they were too polite to say so, she wandered out of the kitchen. What she needed, she decided, was to talk to Armand. By questioning the servants once again, she found out where his room was. It was quite late in the day by this time, but she knocked softly just in case. If he was still asleep he probably would not hear it, but she doubted he would still be in bed by this time unless he was extremely exhausted.

After returning to her room, Marguerite finally changed and couldn't help but to pace about the room. Dressed in her light green dress, the one she had picked up from the dressmaker's the day Percy had happened upon her at a Paris cafe. Finally she had sent one of the girls to find Percy, all the while she circled around a table that now held a tray with her breakfast, still untouched.

She heard the footsteps and looked up as she heard the knock. She opened the door for Percy and motioned for him to come in. "I have a lot of things I need to say Percy, so if you would, please come in and sit down."

Ascending up the staircase, Blakeney gave a sigh and glanced over at Frank who stood at the top of the case. Seeing Frank's hands empty, he raised a brow and gave an uncomfortable gesture from his section of the hallway to hers.

With a sigh, he moved over and rapped on her door, softly calling her name. When he entered, she told him how it was going to be and defeated he thought to himself, "I'm not sure I have a whole day to hear this all." He sat on the bed stool with his hands in his lap and faced her, awaiting his lashing.

Marguerite took in a deep breath and continued her frantic pacing back and forth, "I know that this won't be the most eloquent of speeches, but please, just let me finish and get everything I want to say out before you say anything."

Marguerite began to speak to him, all the while varying between pacing back and forth and around her table, fighting to hold back her sobs. "I don't know what is going on between the two of us. I want to know why you don't hold me at night, why we don't have meals together, picnics together, why you go off sometimes for days at a time while doing business and attending to your wardrobe and take my brother along instead of your wife.

"These past two months should have been the happiest time of our lived, but I've rarely felt anything better then miserable. You're rarely ever here and I miss you terribly when you're away, and the times when you are around you always find some excuse to put me off as if being with me were a chore you hated to do. In the two months I've been here I've left the manor three times all of which to go into town, meanwhile you go to London and the North and where every else you've been. I've asked you why I can't come with you and you never have a reason for me.

"And now, now I've become so sick and weak. I've nearly starved myself, simply because I have no appetite. I can sleep, I'm frail and white and sickly. It's a wonder you could even bare to hold me this morning I've become so ugly I wouldn't have been surprised if you hadn't even wanted to touch me."

Finally, weary and emotionally exhausted, Marguerite collapsed onto her knees besides her husband, and began to weep, "Percy, what's happened to us. All I want is to be happy, for us to be happy, together. All I want is to be with you." Slowly she bent her head down so that it just barely rested on his knee as she cried.

Digesting the long speech, which during he forced himself to meet her eyes, Sir Percy's face drooped and Blakeney looked terribly concerned at her. These were the type of things Frank seemed to be saying to him. They both deserved to be happy, didn't they?

As she sobbed at his feet, he gulped and wondered how he could have ever harmed such a beautiful creature with his wickedness. Blakeney could not stand to see a Lady cry and he reached into his coat and offered her the gentle white lace 'chief. "There now... let's have none of tears."

For quite a while, he did not dare to break the silence again whilst his mind cluttered up with scenarios and questions. The St. Cyrs came into his mind, but he quickly dismissed them. They were dead and would have to forgive himself for his error and stop torturing his wife. Surely their blood had washed from the wooden guillotine by now.

Absentmindedly, as he held conversations in his head, his hand reached down and stroked at her hair. Uncertain was his future and nothing more seemed so teeter than his wife. When her sobs seemed to have diminished, he looked down at her full of sorrow. "I apologize Marguerite." With an unsure smile, he dropped the wall and reached out.

Marguerite let her head rest against his leg and relished he feel of his fingers running through her hair. And Marguerite, he called her Marguerite. She lifted one had up to grip his hand and gave it a gently squeeze. "Things don't have to be like this. No, no they don't Percy. things can get better. I'll get better, I will. And then we can try and be happy again, and we'll do all the things we talked about before we were married." she said through a few remaining sobs and sniffles.

His eyebrows knitted up opposite one another in his habitual manner. What could or should he do? He was never frightened of facing a pistol or blade, yet he was deathly scared of the situation before him. Vulnerable.

Nodding his head, Blakeney glanced at her and then up and over at the window. What was Sultan doing? Would the horse know the master was again, once more, selling his soul? That is how he felt and the tense pain in his chest swelled up once more that day. "Sure we will....." He looked back at Marguerite and forced a smile. He was scared to death.

Marguerite finished her sniffles and straightened up, still on her knees however, but wrapped her arms a bit around Percy. "I love you Percy. I still love you so much." She said as she rested her head on his shoulder.

Leaning down, he hugged her in return, relishing in the fact that her scent still remained true to his memory. He had no response for what she told him, so he nodded and gave held with a tighter grip. He had no use for these words... but she was so close and warm. Could he repeat the phrase?

Opening his mouth he choked back on his speech and pulled back a little. Blakeney had never uttered them and even now, when he wished to just spit them out at her and mean them, he could not bring himself to do it.

Instead, he leaned over and picked up some mango and offered to feed her. This action burned his heart as much as it excited him.

Marguerite smiled through her tears as he held the bit of fruit for her. She lifted one hand and brushed his cheek as she clasped her other hand gently around his, leading it closer to her as she took a bite of the fruit.

After she ate a bit more food in silence, he wore his bravest smile and offered, "Perhaps we can put the day robe about you and go downstairs where you can be served a hot meal." It sickened him to feel how Sir Algernon must have felt when his wife began to decay.

He dimly thought that this illness ran in his family line, but of course it did not make sense. Perhaps it was his family's doomed lot in life. Forever the Blakeney had never made anything of themselves. Percy doubted his ego and worried that he would never rise above anything but the etched fate.

"We couldn't but the breakfast is still warm, and I know it's not so much of a burden but I'd rather it not go to waste, but which ever you feel is best." Marguerite said, squeezing his hand a bit more, "Of course, that is, assuming you'll stay with me as I eat."

The reference of self punishment on his behalf through starvation, Blakeney did not recognize. He only saw a weak being needing his help and the gentleman in him was quick to respond. "Of course I'll stay." He said simply and quietly.

Sir Percy sat on the bed stool and fed his wife the oats, bread and fruit Frank had brought up. His mind was screaming and he forced himself calm. This woman before him was a murderer to the very cause he took, yet he laid down before her once more like a loyal hound. Knowing things could only get better, comforted his mind and he smiled a little more natural as the minutes passed.

Marguerite happily accepted every bit of food Percy had offered her. Even when she felt full, she took several move small bites of food from his hand before sitting next to him on the rest. She placed one of her hands on his cheek and gently pressed her lips to the other. She gave him a long, lingering kiss before letting her own cheek and nose brush against his face.

"Are you feeling any better?" Normally receiving one of her kisses should have made him feel at ease, rest with comfort, however her current state only unnerved Blakeney all the more. Wearing the brave smile, being this close to her, his lazy blues looked into her green eyes. These once glowing orbs looked weak and sickly.

"Do you wish to rest some more or tell to me what you would like to do today?" Blakeney planned on locking himself in his den for the remainder of the afternoon, taking care to his needed business, however he feared disappointing Marguerite now. She needed him and he desperately wished to fill a void of being wanted. He moved not a muscle nor did he give any indication of fleeing.

Marguerite smiled as he looked at her. "I'm feeling much better now Percy thank you. It appears as if it will be a nice day outside. Perhaps the fresh air will be good for me."

The walk down into the foyer was slow, as Percy held out his hand and arm to support her. Maeve smiled at him and he nodded back in his shy manner, still under the influence of his dark paved future that kept him in check.

Some of the servants gave a surprised look to see the master of the house so serious with Lady Blakeney a foot. His smile was contrived and he looked damn uncomfortable all dressed up in his normal fine clothes, while the lady looked ill in her bed robe. Even Thomas did a double take, remembering a time when his first beloved employer held the same worried face and escorted in the same manner his ill bride. If there was ever a time for Thomas to feel any sort of empathy for Sir Percy, it was this scene.

Holding the patio door open for her, Blakeney remained forever reserved and non-jovial. "Gail, two teas and some cakes please. The gazebo will do." Looking back to his frail bride, Percy gave that shy and hapless smile, leading her on his arm.

Marguerite couldn't help but to smile as Percy escorted her to the little gazebo just off the manor. She carefully sat down, taking care to smooth her dress as she did so. A warm breeze blew across her face as she motioned for Percy to sit beside her, "It looks as if it will be a lovely day."

"It does appear to hold that potential, doesn't it?" Glancing at her dress, it looked like a bag surrounding and engulfing her small and frail form. Sir Percy sat next to her, offering a smile again and waited for Gail to serve the tea. "Perhaps a blanket Gail, to prepare for a breeze."

He looked at his wife and took her hand in his, unsure if his wife would recover from this state or worsen.

"Oh Percy, I'm sure there's no need for that. It feels like such a warm breeze blowing today." she said as she watched him. She squeezed his hand and gently brushed his cheek with the other. "Percy, what are you thinking?"

Hearing his wife, he looked at Gail and waved his hand once, as if to dismiss the very thought he had of the blanket. He felt demmed awkward and clumsy, unsure how best to care for Marguerite. He sat there, staring straight ahead for a bit when she broke his trance.

"What am I thinking Marguerite?" He repeated the question to buy some time before answering. What was her involvement back in France? Did she wish the St. Cyrs dead? How could she bring herself to give up the lives of others? Did she know who he was and what he did? His blank face stared at her, giving no signal of any anger or the confusion that constantly accompanied him these days.

"It does feel like a wonderful day coming about. A good lazy day." He brought up his hand and gave a yawn. "We should enjoy hanging about the Manor together on such a warm day..... Too bad I hadn't my new boots to lounge about in. They would have done me good on a day like today." He smiled shyly at her, trying again to change the subject towards things he liked.

"Oh, you and your boots." Marguerite said, half teasingly, half upset, "I ought to go into your wardrobe and steal every last pair of boots you have and hide them. I'd have you walk about barefoot."

"Lud! If you did that I would hire the best of hounds to seek them out." Percy smiled more naturally at his wife. She was beginning to tease at him, wasn't she? It felt like something lost over years, regardless that in truth, it had been a few months passing.

With as near teasing of a smile that he would allow himself, Percy added, "I have run into a fellow here and there that raises such hounds as well, so don't tempt me Marguerite." He winked at her. "Could probably have the beasts stand about and bay at you in accusation, so think twice before you act upon such treacherous thoughts."

His smile faded at the impact of his last words. He had started out poking fun in return, however the dark truth in his mind escaped. Covering half his face, Sir Percy yawned and looked straight ahead over the lawn.

Marguerite giggled at his threats. "Now Percy, what's so awful about going barefoot. AS I remember, you seemed to like my little bare feet." Marguerite said, as she quietly slipped one slipper off her foot and moved it closer to brush against his leg.

Magnetic were her feet, for his eyes were drawn to them the moment they were visible and the lazy lids lifted high when flesh became exposed. Percy closed his eyes when she touched at him, letting out a small breath of air. How he missed this!

Keeping his eyes closed, he reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly to speak to Marguerite of his approval and enjoyment. He admitted she held power over him still, for he sat there fighting the internal battle to remain like a stone. Feeling his blood pump, parts of his body were already acting in betrayal. He shifted himself and gently laid his arm across his lap.

Turning and looking at her, he gave quite the embarrassed grin, but his ego countered it, speaking with intense confidence. "I must admit, I do."

Marguerite gave a coy smile as he put his arm around her. She let her own hand move across his. She moved her face closer to his, just barely brushing his cheek with her own and her nose as she continued to move foot against his leg. "And I'm sure you missed this as much as I have, didn't you Percy?"

Mind whirling, he felt light headed, sick to his stomach and invigorated, all at the same time. His mind screamed no, his heart pumped blood harder and a memory of Frank's voice told him to try. Percival Blakeney gave in.

He did not answer her with words, but reached upward, turning his hips in a manner so his front would still be covered from prying eyes. Both of his gentle hands took hold of her chin and neck, and Blakeney kissed her deeply on the gazebo for all to see.

Marguerite gasped as Percy put his up to her face and then kissed her. When was the last time he kissed her like this? When was the last time he kissed like this because he wanted to? Marguerite brought both her arms up and wrapped them around his neck and pulled her husband closer to her, so close she could tell what he was feeling. She continued to letting her lips join with hers as one soft tear escaped from under her eye.

Excited as he was, somehow doubting thoughts penetrated his mind. Stronger were the flashes of passion than the will of Blakeney. Reaching his hand down, he wrapped it around her side and groped there feverishly. For well over two months, this man of passion held himself in check. From Frank's earlier words, Blakeney felt released from the imprisonment in which he held himself. He forgot himself and intensely kissed his wife, trying to speak between kisses. "I... I.... I, oh Marguerite!" He pulled her to him and whispered her name more.

Marguerite let Percy pull her closer to him. "Oh, Percy, you have no idea how much I've missed you." she whispered as he kissed her, "do you have any idea how much I've longed for this."

What could he say? Percy would rather say nothing. In this heated moment, he did not wish to break from this small fantasy world. A world where all was forgiven and things between Sir Percy and Lady Blakeney resembled a utopic state.

"Sssssssshhh.... Hush now." Pulling back slightly, the half closed eyes desperately took in the surroundings: His home, stables, servants, yard and wife. With short breath, his soft voice spoke quickly, "Are you well? Shall I carry you upstairs?" It was not guilt or brains that guided the man. Only memories of a place he wished to journey back to.

Marguerite wouldn't let him move to far from her and she placed many gentle kisses on his cheek and neck. "I'm better then well," she whispered to tease him, "but if you wish to take me away from any chance of prying eyes, I suppose it is as good of a place as any."

"yes...." his voice was a whisper amongst breeze, barely audible. Standing, realizing the wonder that would soon be his, he sternly repeated himself, "Yes! Away from all eyes." Reaching down, he began to pick up Marguerite, her frail and weak form felt so light in his arms. Holding her close, the Baronet turned and entered the Manor at a brisk pace with a most precious package in his arms.

Marguerite wrapped her arms securely around Percy's neck as he lifted her up and carried her inside. She began to whisper sweetly into his ear, even softly singing what he had dubbed 'his song.'

The footfalls quickened hearing her angelic voice wisp and float around his ear. Clumsy in haste, Percival Blakeney near dropped the frail woman in his arm when his foot caught hold of a veranda leg. Stumbling, he gave a nervous sort of laugh and kissed her cheek.

As he slowed in the foyer, Percy began to carefully climb the stairs, concentrating on not falling backwards. Unsure if he would hold out to make it to one of the bedrooms, the image of the tub room and his den made their way as options. During their marriage celebration, the naive bridegroom knew he wished to lie down with his wife in the private hills of Richmond during his first week home. Since that did not occur, he decided this afternoon his childhood rooms would be a good alternative.

Sir Percy did not think to enter quietly into her room, as his mannerisms normally were carried out. Instead, his hand fumbled quickly on the handle and he kicked open the door, uncaring that one of Marguerite's ladies could be inside. Nothing was on his mind but the lustful task at hand.

With his few slight fumbles, Marguerite pulled tighter to him, giggling lightly as he laughed at himself. Once inside, he brought her to her bed, the bed she spent many lonely nights in hoping that he would join her. As he tenderly laid her down, she brought her lips to his, letting her bony hands grasp at the lapels of his fine coat and pull him closer to her.

Seeing her laughing face, he smiled a bit at her but then became intensely serious as he kicked the door closed and took her to her bed. How badly his body and mind wanted this. It was over two months.... after 32 years, the flood gates were finally opened and he had not the real thing for over two months! "Margot... Margot...."

Percy laid down next to her, parts of him draped over on top of her, and his eyes held a dumbfounded gaze. The look of lustful anticipation. As he pressed himself into her, Blakeney seemed to try and swallow the side of her neck, kissing it like he was. The Baronet closed his eyes in fear that he would wake up to find the situation fake and his hands reached for her, squeezing in refusal to let go.

Marguerite wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back and his shoulders and running her fingers through his hair. As he reached for her, he did so with such strength that it hurt her frail body, but not willing to give Percy even the slightest excuse to stop, she bit her until the pain passed and then began her own exploring of his body again.

He whimpered out her name, completely subcoming to her touch. Fearing speaking, not risking a look, Percy felt his way around as if it were darkness in the room instead of bright light sunbeams. He moved his lips up to hers and kissed deeply while his hands slowly slipped the dress from her shoulders.

Marguerite happily joined her lips to Percy's as he began to slide her dress over her. She only took her lips from his so that he might remove her dress completely. As he did she looked down and remembered the state of her own body. Suddenly very self conscience, she turned away from him, crossing her arms in front of her as she murmured, "Perhaps this isn't the best thing to do right now Percy."

He sat on the bed stumped and astonished. Hearing her, his blues snapped open and he stared at her with disbelief. Back and forth his pupils went, trying to figure out some secret or hidden information that would help her to return to his arms. He could see her now, in her entirety and the worried look only intensified on Percy's face.

"I thought.... I swore..." He thought she was feeling better and he looked down, feeling nothing but hot embarrassment cross over his face. "I'm sorry Marguerite. I should know better, you feeling ill."

Marguerite's lip trembled listening to him. "No, no Percy, you don't need to feel sorry. I feel fine, it's just that," she wrapped her arms tighter around herself and closed her eyes, "I'm not the same as you probably remember."

I feel fine.' A chance of hope. He stared at her for a moment and let her words sink in. "You are feeling well? Margot." He stood and stood in front of her, placing his hands tenderly on her bare arms. He was fully clothed in some of his expensive best, yet she was like a Rembrandt. By far, her body was more beautifully adorned and he now told her so. "Before me stands the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen." Percy brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. "Margot, please. Come lie with me on the bed. We can just lie there under the blankets.... if you want."

Marguerite shook her head and didn't bother to close the distance between herself and Percy on the bed. "I may have been once, now I'm thin and bony and frail." she said as she slightly sobbed, ashamed of what her pride had allowed her to do to herself. "I'm surprise you want to look much less touch me now."

She was reminding him. Marguerite resembled his mother and she appeared so sick. He looked at her visible ribs and sunken features. Her taste lingered on his lips and he was still quite at attention from his wife's warm touch. He tried to coax her with a whisper, "I have always found you beautiful." Taking her hand, he squeezed it and looked into her green eyes. How badly he wished to hold her again.

Marguerite returned the soft squeeze Percy gave her and gave into his request. She moved to rest against him, wrapping her arms around him and gently brushing her lips against his. She pulled back and looked into his soft eyes, holding back the tears in her own, "That means so much to me Percy."

"Shhhh. Please, don't cry...." He could not stand to see a woman cry. Sitting next to her on the bed, holding her close, he leaned in and kissed her neck. This time however, it was slow and gentle for the forceful passion of before had been put into check.

Marguerite whipped the few tears from her eyes. "not all tears are tears of sadness Percy. I think I've shed enough of those anyway." She took his face gently in her own hands and let her lips brush his; gently at first, but then demanding more from him.

Nodding, he squeezed her hand and could only wonder how often he put her into tears with his cruel antics. Just as he was going to remind himself why he acted that way, she touched him and began to kiss him. Percy did not think of anything else once her warmth engulfed him.

At first, Blakeney was careful with his frail wife. He took to kissing her only. She began to grow forceful, and he only rose up to meet the challenge. Leaning over his wife, Blakeney boldly threw off his coat and reached towards himself to quickly undo his vest buttons. He did not stop kissing Marguerite and only paused when he softly called her name.

Marguerite gently helped him with his tossing his clothes off, so happy to feel him so close to her once again. he barely removed his lips from hers and she greedily whined each time he did. She softly let her hands run over his chest and shoulders, pulling him down closer to her.

They embraced and kissed like that for a while. When he could stand it no longer, Blakeney pulled her up to him and struggled with the comforter until he had succeeded in manipulating the troublesome blanket to cover them both. If one stood outside the doorway of her room, they would hear the sound of the lovers as they greeted each other again for the first time in months.

The warm sun came in from the window and drew itself across the strewn clothes, blankets and slumbering forms on the bed. Their once meshing bodies had caused a dampness on their skin which the solar rays took to drying. As he slept, Blakeney dreamed of family he never met in a time he did not live in.

It was a wonderful dream.

Marguerite awoke after the most peaceful rest she had had in months. With Percy's head resting against her own warm chest, she gently brushed his damp hair with her fingertips. The love and affection she had longed for for two months she had finally received. As he slept, Marguerite wondered why the odd change in him over the past few months. Perhaps the shock of being married, perhaps the idea of a wife at home, perhaps something else. But none of the mattered now as she decided as she placed a gentle kiss on top of her sleeping husband's head. he had found his way back to her.

Content to sleep the afternoon away, Blakeney slowly regained consciousness when the soft touch of his wife's fingers began to caress and stroke his hair. At first, he wished to remain in the comfortable and lazy state of his skin pressing her warm flesh. He felt secure. He even felt loved.

Receiving her kiss awakened him, despite his best efforts to fall back into slumber. He laid there with his eyes closed and nuzzled his head closer into her two makeshift pillows. 'How could life get better than this?' he mused to himself. Leaning his chin upward, Percy kissed her bosom and turned himself so he could more easily embrace her in a hug. "Mmmmm," he offered, settling into Marguerite once more.

Accepting that it was still mid-day and he should get up, the lazy lids blinked open and his eyes glanced up at her. His smile showed his appreciation and relief of the action they just did. He was her husband. She was his wife. It had been too long. Taking his index finger, Percy drew imaginary outlines on her cheek and lips, grinning all the while.

Bringing his other hand about, he laid that on her chest and petted it softly, resting his head just below. Right in that moment, his demeanor changed every so slightly.

Sir Percy Blakeney, Baronet was comfortably resting against his wife, with his trick signet ring staring him in the face. The invisible talons once more tightened around his chest. It was then that he was reminded.

Marguerite smiled as Percy let his fingers wonder over her face and bosom. She continued running her thin, bony fingers through his hair. Once he had settled back against her, she dropped her hand to wrap around his fingers. She let out a soft sigh as she kissed his head again. "I don't suppose we could lay here like this and watch the sunset and rise together."

Giving her hand a squeeze, he began to doubt the confidence in which he carried out his latest action. Feeling his throat go dry, he whispered, "A lovely thought, but we should get up." To emphasize his point, he added, "We have guests and your brother will want to see you, I am sure." The fantasy world melted away and guilt crept in. Armand was shot and the Scarlet Pimpernel had selfishly enjoyed himself.

"Oh, fine, but let's just lay here for a while long. No doubt the girls are busy with their studies and Armand is visiting with Helene, considering he hadn't found me yet." Marguerite said as she wrapped one arm tighter around him. "I don't think I've felt so wonderful since our honeymoon."

"Of course." He rested there some more, trying to not think. Not speak. No reaction did he wish to give. Blakeney wasn't the most experienced man in these situation, like High Highness. However he was smart enough to know not to say another word.

Marguerite smiled as she continued to stroke his soft, damp hair. Enjoying the feel of her husband's cheek pressed against her own warm skin. In silence she looked out the window and over the lands she could see through her window. Softly she began to hum "his song" to him.

As if things were not bad enough, she began to sing to him again. The guilty feeling of being with her only intensified, intermixed with the pain that was forming in his chest. Percy clung onto Frank's words of trying to be kinder and work things out with Marguerite. He took his hand and put it behind his wife, so the ring would not remind him of all the things he *should* be doing at the moment. Trying to remain in her bed comfortably was no longer an easy task.

Marguerite felt Percy begin to shift a bit as he wrapped one arm more firmly around her. Still slightly warm, she pushed some of the sheets off her frail body exposing it to the warm light. She held back a yawn to continue singing as she began to sing another song from the night their shared on the riverbank.

Closing his eyes, Percy let out his held breath and listened to his wife sing. It was so beautiful. How it upset him more hearing that beautiful voice, for his mind was no longer allowing him to be at peace with Marguerite. Trying to cling onto Frank's words, Blakeney remained resting on her, his fingers rubbing gently up and down her side. He was fighting another internal battle.

"For someone that provided so many reasons for getting up before, you certainly don't seem to be in a hurry Percy." Marguerite said, letting out a slight gasp as his fingers causes a slight tickle. She turned and moved a bit to slide under him so her face would be nearer his, and her lips could offer him yet another kiss.

Kissing her back gently, Blakeney looked into her eyes, trying to recreate that magical moment of only a few hours before. "I thought you wished to rest...., Marguerite." He almost said Lady Blakeney. Keeping still, uncertainty still amuck, he waited for her lead. He was not about to end this moment in an argument. Not even he had the wills for it.

"Will you stay with me?" Marguerite said as she looked up into Percy's soft eyes. "I just don't want to be alone."

"Yes, I will stay with you. We should get up however and get you something more to eat." He patted her hand and thought about Helene. He was anxious to get some information and speak with her, as he had not yet done so since her arrival at the Manor.

Marguerite smiled and sat up to stretch. "I suppose so. Being that you are such a master of fashion, would you like to choose something for me to wear, or shall I walk about the manor as I am?"

The comment from her lips made even him laugh a bit. Oh how he wished to tell her to walk around like that forever. His eyes could never tire of the site and under different circumstances, he would have tried to have taken her again for another go at it. In his present situation however, he did smile as he got up to take a look at her wardrobe. Sir Percy never turned down an invitation to pick out clothes and selected a light yellowish dress.

He did not mean to, but out of habit, as he turned, he pressed it against his own body and asked, "How about this one, say?"

"It's perfect," she said as she stood and began to pick up several pieces of their previously disguarded clothes off the floor. "Now, do you plan to play my maid and help me dress?" she asked with a coy smile.

"If the lady wishes." Percy smiled and gave no indication how he was unsure of his present actions. Relying again on Frank's words, he tried to please his wife and took his clothes from her arms. "I suppose I will have to manage in walking down the corridor in a wrinkled fashion."

He helped her into the dress and took his time as he stood behind her, fastening the long row of buttons. Allowing himself the pleasure, Percy stared at Marguerite's back longingly. At one point, he had to stop and keep himself in check, for he was ready to undo his work and undress his wife once more. Pride and confusion held him back.

Marguerite enjoyed being fussed over by Percy. She glanced over her shoulder to watch as he did the buttons going up her back. Honestly she enjoyed having him button then as she would had if he had been undoing them.

"If you wish Percy, and trust me enough to take to your dress." she said, turning to face him once he had finished, "I could go retrieve a fresh set of clothes and help you into them." she added with a coy smile.

"No need for that Milady. Tis for a woman to be fussed over and for a man to do it." Slowly he told himself he was playing a new role today. The character was of a loving husband and he forced himself to act out the part. Reaching around, he retrieved his undergarments and proceeded to put them on.

"It's quite a change, coming here and being fussed over by someone else. I'm so used to taking care of others." Marguerite said as she laid out the pieces of his outfit. Once that was done she moved to stand in front of him and slowly wrapped her arms around him for a warm embrace. Gently she laid her head on his chest and swayed lightly back and forth.

He walked through an inner dialogue of what a husband would do, as he put his arms around Marguerite and swayed with her a bit. Giving her forehead a kiss, he smiled and began to put his slacks on. One leg, then the other. Yes, he could pretend to play this part a bit. "Demmed uncomfortable the heat today," Percy attempted to sound normal.

"It seems like it will be a hot day today. Perhaps you should find something lighter to wear if you change later Percy, or," she lowered her voice as she held up his shirt for him, "forego a few layers all together."

"Mmmm? Indeed?" He took a hold of his shirt and put it on, eyeing her with a uncertainty the entire time. Quickly he put on his smile however, to remedy the situation.

Marguerite took his vest and slipped it onto his arms and came around to stand in front of him again. Carefully, she did the buttons of the vest giving him another soft kiss on his cheek. "So Percy, what else did you have planned for the day. Nothing too stressing I hope."

It took a ridiculously long amount of time to get to his sister's room, though, with him limping and Hélène supporting him the way she was. But they got there. Armand squirmed sheepishly out of Hélène's grasp. The last thing he needed (and the worst thing that could happen) would be Marguerite asking why he hadn't come up there under his own power. Le jeune homme français raised one hand and knocked on the oak door. Now if only she wouldn't ask any questions of him!!!!

Helene smiled to herself as Armand extricated himself from the supportive grip she had taken on him to help him down the corridor. Doubtless he wanted to seem strong in front of his sister--though she did not wholly guess why; she only thought it was a youthful display of independence. She waited with him for someone to answer the door, but figured it would probably be better if she found some way to politely excuse herself as soon as Marguerite came so that the two siblings could be alone together.

With his wife fussing over him, something he always hated less it was Maeve, Percy did his best to stand and take it in good stride. "Nothing too stressing..." he nodded and agreed with her. Turning about, he took hold of his coat and glanced at his appearance in the mirror. He was wrinkled from head to toe in a very un- Gentleman type manner.

Thinking quietly, Blakeney decided the wrinkles would not matter for the walk down the hallway to his room. His thoughts were interrupted when the anonymous knock rapped upon her door. Instinct took over and the eyes of the Scarlet Pimpernel flashed like a caught cat. Quickly he retreated a few steps backwards until he stood near the window where the long curtains hung. Glancing from Marguerite to the door, his demeanor was not a pleasant one.

"Just a minute," Marguerite called as she watched Percy back up. "Goodness Percy, you'd think that you'd expect a ghost to be at the door." she said before taking a few steps closer. "I'm sure who ever it is won't be offended by a few slight wrinkles," she said playfully as she tucked a few lose strands of hair behind his ear.

His hair was not tied back, nor was Blakeney even fully dressed. Marguerite might as well as have not been his wife, for he acted as if he was a random lover cheating behind someone's back, about to be found out. The display he shown was not of the norm, for every paranoia in his mind from hiding out in France, to trying not to be with his wife, to now trying to make some sense of his wife confused him in that moment.

Not saying a word, Percy took a few steps forward and tried desperately to look normal. Instead, he succeeded in pulling off awkward.

Marguerite stepped behind him and offered him his coat before stepping forward to open the door and see her brother there. "Armand," she cried as she threw her arms around him and place a playful kiss on his cheek. "Oh little brother I'm so glad you're home."

He said not a word and just stood there watching. Armand. The young Sprout may or may not figure out what had happened in the room. Glancing behind him, Percy looked at the strewn bed sheets that neither him nor Marguerite had the time to put back into place. Only their clothes. Good Lord! How could anyone viewing this scene not piece it together?

The pale white skin on Percy's face flushed red and his piercing eyes scanned behind the doorway to what seemed to be movement on the other side. God save the King! Was Armand not alone?!

Well the Sprout did. In one quick glance, his green eyes had taken in the strewn bedclothes, Percy's wrinkled clothing, and his red cheeks. Well, it seemed Percy was talking to his wife again. Wonderful.

Armand hugged his sister back and gave her an imp-like grin. "I'm sorry, Marguerite. I seem to have interrupted what appears to be a very deep conversation between you and Percy. I do apologize..." Armand threw her an innocent look. "Should I go? I was quite eager to talk to you after being gone for such a while, but I think you'd prefer to continue your conversation with Percy." He blinked and looked at Percy, whose cheeks were still crimson. Odd.

Hearing his opportunity to escape the embarrassment that was only increasing by the uncomfortable situation, Percy blurted out, "No need for that Sprout." He felt his voice start off shaky and quickly forced it steady. "I know your sister is anxious to see you, and I suppose I would just be in the way."

Be-lining it for the doorway, he looked down and did not make eye contact with either one.

Helene locked her jaw and managed to keep a straight face as Sir Percy beeline past the two of them. It was quite obvious what she and Armand had interrupted...and it was difficult to keep her face from quirking into a knowing smile. With an effort, she managed to keep a somewhat severe expression.

Obviously, he had interrupted a... tender... moment... between Percy and his wife. "Well, I... I don't think you'd exactly be in the way, Percy, but..." Armand shrugged and shot his brother in law a mischievous grin. "... well, you seem to have your heart set on cleaning up."

Marguerite watched Percy step out, but did not try to stop him. No doubt he wanted to change and freshen up after their recent activity so she turned back to Armand. Giving him another she said, "Oh I did miss you Armand, so how was your trip?"

Was Hélène still there? Armand glanced behind him quickly. "The trip was fine. I guess." He tried not to stand on his leg. "I'm a little tired from the travel, but... well, Percy's wardrobe seems to be improved. Or so he informed me." Armand gave a little exasperated sigh. As though he really minded the trip. Despite the bullet in his leg, the sprout didn't really mind.

Helene's eyes met Armand, and she guessed at what his glance meant. She had planned for it anyway. "I think I'll let you two catch up," she said gracefully, moving away. Then, with a sudden grin, she added impulsively, "It's great to see you again, Armand," before moving off down the hallway. Behind her, she heard the siblings continue their conversation.

"Oh, I'm not interested in his boots." Marguerite said, "You sounds as though you were bored my the trip. You know you don't always have to go off and leave me behind little brother if Percy bores you so. Now come, I want to hear all about your trip."

Glancing up as he passed them both, the light blue eyes of the Baronet met briefly with Armand's as he nodded his head. "Something a bit to that effect." Unable to look back at Marguerite, Blakeney stepped passed Armand and he spied Helene who had accompanied the Frenchman. His posture stiffened a bit more, and he gave a silent nod to acknowledge her presence. Without another word, the confused man left the chamber of his wife and headed down the long desolate hallway. Behind him, he could hear the two St. Justs carrying on their conversation and Percy turned into his tub room and locked the door.

back