When she woke up the next morning, she fought the urge to get up, feeling so calm and relaxed. She yawned and stretched and finally opened her eyes. As she turned she was surprised to see Percy laying peacefully on the other side of the bed. At first, she wanted to throw her arms around him, but instead decided not to wake him. She instead moved as close as she could to him without disturbing her husband, and watched him rest until he would wake up.
The back and forth of life's constant roller coaster took its toll on Sir Percy Blakeney, Baronet. The wish to be rid of the weight hanging on his soul was enough for him to reach out, finally, after all these years to someone. The ego can not be coaxed so easily, and out of habit he remained safely behind the erected wall.
Becoming vulnerable translated into his head that he could not remain the strong man he was, however out of sheer desperation Blakeney could only allow himself this vice. When he spoke to Frank, he lacked the proper social skills one might learn from interacting with others or their family. Being an only child on a very lonely ship, Percy Blakeney never acquired the proper communication skills to utilize when faced with such feelings of hopelessness.
Instead, he lashed out at the very man and woman who could, with a few simple words, erase the horrors that plagued him. Having already pushed his wife away, Sir Percy came dangerously close to doing physical harm to the man he sought out for help. It would be simple to call him a tyrant. An ignorant man who cared nothing but for his own comfort and used his strength to bully and push his way towards getting anything he wished for. In the case of many a men, this would be a true statement.
Not true for Percival Blakeney. His ego did cloud his mind, of that he was guilty. If you never teach a child that they can scorch their hand when it is placed upon a flame, and in their lifetime, they are shielded from all fire, are they to blame when they become burned? Instead of learning to turn the flame lower, Sir Percy learned to avoid it all together.
As the morning light streamed in from the adjacent window, stirring the good Lady Blakeney from her slumber, he was slowly awoken from his own dreams. An angel came to a little boy's side, and with the tip of her wing gently brushed it against his face. Nodding her head, she gave him an approving smile. Turning to speak to her, the young boy reached out and gently rubbed his fingers against her wing.
Percy awoke that morning, clad barely in his open bed robe, to see the shrinking form of Marguerite lying next to him. His hand he had reached out and was rubbing the tip of the blanket that covered his feet. The rest of him, the long lanky legs, his bare front side save for the diamond patch of hair that grew oddly on his chest, were exposed to the elements of the room, and out for all to see.
He said nothing at first, his tired blues searching out her withering face. Marguerite looked so pale. So thin. This was not the beautiful wife he married a few months back, but a shell of her. "Did someone die?" An odd question, but in the earliness of the morning, the whisper was the only explanation that made sense.
Marguerite gave Percy a puzzled look before smiling as he
spoke. "What an odd question for first thing in the morning that is
Percy. No, nothing bad has happened, at least not that I know of."
Marguerite moved close to him to let her body rest against his. She
rested her head against his shoulder and brought one arm over his
only partially nude body. Suddenly a bit self-conscience and aware
of her own recently changing shape, she fought a bit with the covers
to hide her own frail body.
"I'm so glad you're back Percy." she said to him. Although she had
just woke up, he breath was shallow and seemed a bit labored. "I've
missed you terribly these past few days, but you're back with me now,
and that's all the matters." Weakly she tried to pull herself closer
to him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.
Was he dreaming again? Blakeney knew he was not, but still hoped in some way to set the gears of all clocks in reverse and pretend they were together. As a team enjoying life to the fullest. She snuggled close to him and he was too tired to begin his morning evading her in games.
Closing his eyes, he felt her soft touch against his skin and he
listened to her trying voice. "Yes, I am here." Percy did not wish to leave her just yet for the weight strained hard and held him near frozen in his bed. What if he just said he would always be here. Murdering wife or not? If he could just bring himself to tell her how blistering life was without her touch. This touch was now on his cheek and he kept his eyes closed for fear of weakening before her if they opened.
Marguerite took a few deep gasps of air in order to slow her
breathing. "And I couldn't be happier," Marguerite said, taking time
to gently run her fingers through his hair. "The days when you are
away from me are so long and tedious, sometimes knowing that you'll
soon return is the only thing that gets me though the day, and now
that day has come."
Was this some sort of sick game to torture him with, or did her words ring true? Mind racing, Blakeney could only ask of himself the same question of all questions. Where did he want his life to go with Marguerite? She was a spy and he was a redeemer. How can the cat defeat the dog?
When he regained control over himself, he sat up in the bed and
looked down at his wife. Her eyes had become a salty white color and Marguerite seemed unable to lift herself out of the bed. "What is the matter with you?" He did not mean to, but Sir Percy's voice became soft and caring. The lazy blue eyes shone for a moment the truth that was laid deep within his soul.
Marguerite's lip trembled a bit and she cast her eyes down from
him. "I. . . I haven't been well lately Percy." she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist and attempted to rest her head on his lap. "I don't know why, I'm sure my own foolishness has contributed, but I haven't been able to sleep or eat or much of anything else."
"Good Lord!" He stood quickly and tried to understand why he
suddenly wished to help her. Aide her. She looked incredibly
horrible and Blakeney did not understand what was wrong with his wife!
Ringing the bell, he stood there and wrapped his bed robe around
him. Where the bloody hell was Frank?
Marguerite once again found herself plopped in a lonely
bed. "Percy," she said as she propped herself up on both her
arms, "Percy, what is it, what's wrong?"
"What, what what..." he stammered as his senses awakened and he
understood her words and why she was in this condition. "What's
wrong? What is right?! Haven't they been feeding you?"
Turning, he took hold of the bell and rang it again and opened his door. "For God's sake! Is my entire house asleep?!"
Marguerite shook and grabbed tighter onto the blankets as he yelled
out his bedroom door into the hallway. "Percy, it's alright, it will
all be alright" she said, almost beggingly, "please Percy, please come
sit with me."
Hearing the bell from Percy's room while he was downstairs seeing to the morning rituals of the house Frank turned a bit reluctantly to head up the stairs. The incident between he and Percy last night had not been pretty and part of him feared it was not over. But, Frank reasoned, Percy was his employer and he had certain duties. Nay, Percy was much, much more than that. Percy was a dear friend to Frank and he was sure things would work themselves out. Hurrying his step Frank turned the corner to see Percy staring into the hall. "Percy, what do you need?"
"Is there no food in this house?" He backed up, seeing Frank coming down the hallway. Moving back, Blakeney took to the main blanket and covered up his wife, so she would remain decent before the eyes of another man.
He sat next to her on the bed, his worried eyes looking down at her trying to comprehend what could possibly bring her into such a state. Looking up helplessly at Frank, the older man's words from the night before etched themselves into his soul. If only he could heed the advice and speak.
Marguerite couldn't help but to smile when he sat next to her again on the
bed. Once more she moved closer to him and lowered her head to rest
against his leg in his lap. She felt comfortable and loved once more by
Percy.
Looking at the two of them, puzzled but glad to see Percy showing some concern for Marguerite, Frank searched Percy's eyes for a clue. "Umm..of course there is food, Sir Percy. Is there something I could get either of you?"
Marguerite shook her head, "If it's not too much Frank, I wouldn't mind a bit of fruit, that is, assuming Percy plans on joining me for breakfast."
His worried eyes went back to Marguerite and he found himself gently reaching out to push back the auburn hair from her delicate ear. He stared at that ear, wishing terrible to be close to it. He could eat that ear, so tasty and desirable it seemed now that it was once more so close. What horrible thing had Marguerite endured that would reduce her to such a state? Was she ill?
Breaking away from his trance, he nodded at Frank urgently. "Yes, yes, get some juice. Some fruit, oats, breads and jams. By God, bring up half the kitchen!"
Looking back to Marguerite, his lower lip threatened tremble but he did not allow it. His blue orbs merged with her eyes and he refused to take them off her. No matter how chalky white her face had become. No matter how much her state reminded him of his mother.
Frank nodded quietly in assent and exited the room. Well, he thought happily, it seemed that Percy had headed a bit of what he had said last night after all. He wasn't terribly surprised. Percy was a compassionate, loving man and, as much as he often had trouble showing it, he cared very deeply for those closest to him. Entering the kitchen Frank began busying himself with the breakfast for Percy and Marguerite, deciding that the rest of the staff should simply leave them alone for the time being.
Marguerite waited until Frank had left to once more try to pull
herself closer to Percy. "I already feel better Percy, having you back. It has lifted my spirit tremendously. I suppose I should tell you about what's happened since you left, and of course I want to here all about your trip. Did your business go well this time?"
"Business..... was fine." The way he paused had nothing to do with the cover up of his recent escapade to France. Her milky skin and sunken in cheek bones was more than he could bare and stole the very breath from his lungs. The grip of the weight stuck their fangs into his chest and he felt light headed, unable to breath.
"This is how Sir Algernon felt..." he gulped back his own thoughts and felt his throat dry. "Do tell, Lady Blakeney...." He took her hand and brought it up to his lips where he kissed it and laid it against his forehead. Leaking, his lazy blues were shut promptly.
Marguerite smiled as he kissed her hand. When was the last time he did
that? "Well, Helene and Louise have arrived and both seem to be adjusting
well. I took them both into town and purchased a few sets of clothes for
each, being that they each only have one set. Louise and Sarah seem to be
getting on well too. It's nice to see her have a playmate. Oh, and we
have received an invitation to a ball. It seems as if George is getting
married."
He nodded listening to her and felt the sharp twinge of invisible stress take hold of him once more. As the head lowered, he brought down his hand holding hers and hailed it harder in a grip. She reminded him of Helene and Louise's presence. How he wished to see the young girl, yet knew her parents would be at his home anon.
"George married?" He said it aloud and glanced up and looked at his frail and decaying wife. Would he be driven to madness and steal Lady Blakeney off on the Day Dream? Frank could never allow him to fall into such a state. "I'm sorry to hear about that.... I caught wind of such an affair when down in London. Poor man must be broken."
Marguerite averted her eyes for a moment as Percy spoke. She moved the fingers within his grip as well to loosen it, his sudden tight grip hurt her little hand. "Why do you think that Percy? Is marriage really such an awful thing?"
Looking at Margot, lying in his bed as if she hadn't the strength to breath, he suffered for her. Patting her hand gently, a small smile crossed his lips. "In reference to George, marriage has nothing to do with it. Tis only that his heart once belonged to another."
Finding himself in an odd moment in their relationship, Percy gently now held her fingers and lowered them to rest on the blankets of the bed. 'Is marriage really such an awful thing?' In reference to himself, it was the worst mistake of his life. That is, until this quiet moment seeing his wife.
Sitting in silence, Percy thought back upon times before he knew of Lady Marguerite Blakeney. When she was Marguerite Saint Just he idolized her and now she was before him, ill on the bed. Could a wrong path be righted? Beginning to doubt himself, the Baronet sat there and softly spoke to her about his trip. His voice was kind and he ran a fingertip up and around her hand, outlining some imaginary lines he found there.
The trip story he kept simple. To London. To the special imported Boot makers. He even went on about how he tried near every boot on in the shop until he found a style worthy of his liking. Glancing up at Marguerite, he wasn't exactly lying to her. About two years back, he did take a trip to London and spent an entire day at his favorite boot makers. He was having so much fun that day, he forgot the time and before he knew it, it was nightfall. What did it matter if he slipped the story to fit present time? It was part of him he wished to share with her, for speaking on clothes and such things were as much a part of him as plotting against the French. His lazy blues light up and he smiled. These things made him happy.
The more she listened to him speak, the angrier she became. She was home, for the most part alone, ill and near starved while he wasn't even away doing business. All this time he was in London attending to his wardrobe!
Marguerite pulled away from him and backed away until she had gained enough energy to slip out of bed. She took her bed robe off the chair she had laid it over the night before and hastily wrapped it around her body. "Well," she finally forced out with a trembling voice, "I'm so glad you had a good time away from me in London, while I was left here on my own. I hope after all that effort you were able to find a suitable addition to your wardrobe," she snapped.
She slowly began to walk towards the door of the bedroom, "When Frank returns, you may tell him I said thank you for his trouble, but I seem to have lost my appetite."
He winced and looked down feeling about as ridiculous as he must have sounded. Where she left, the pattern of the sheets displayed small daggers, mocking him, and her warmth was still captured in the mattress. Business to him was boot making. It was paying receipts. Conducing affairs on his land purchases and other investments. Should he be happy that his insensitive actions towards Marguerite only solidified his image as England's biggest fool?
With confusion in his mind, Blakeney let her depart and knew not how to make her stay or if he wished her to stay. Frank had said for him to reach out to her and try and make things better. 'I have made nothing short of a mess.' he thought and shook his head. Lying back in the bed, his lanky legs flipped over the side so his toes touched the floor and the blonde locks formed a near perfect circle-type of formation above his head.
When Frank came back with the tray, not bothering to sit up, Blakeney passed on Marguerite's message.
As he made his way up the stairs Frank heard the tail end of the
argument and saw Marguerite tear from the room, almost bowling him over in the process, had he not seen her. When he entered the bedroom, Percy passed along Marguerite's message and Frank sighed heavily, not sure what to make of this latest development. "Is anything the matter, Percy? You two seemed as happy as jaybirds when last I was in here."
"Perhaps a couple o' crows cawing out to each other like demmed
idiots." Sitting up, the makeshift halo disappeared and fell across his shoulders. Looking over at the older man, Percy did not understand how Marguerite could become so frail in such a short amount of time. Her strange illness puzzled him and chilled him, where upon he could find no common plane or answer. The fact remained that he wished his wife to not subcome to the fate of the former Lady Blakeney, and out of fear, he spoke not of it.
He looked at Frank and the tray of food and laid back down on the bed. "I suppose you either should lecture me or give the tray to Lady Blakeney where perhaps she will eat without my loathsome presence disrupting her appetite."
"Sir, I have no intention of doing either of those things. I'll ring down and tell Thomas to bring another tray to Lady Blakeney and I am going to stay right here, but I am not going to lecture you." Frank place the tray on the small table near the bed and turned an appraising eye to Percy. Such an intelligent, compassionate man and yet the person he cared for most he could not handle. It was a shame, but Frank was certain that Percy would somehow learn to manage. "You are a grown man. You know how I feel, and if you want to talk about it, I am here."
He nodded his head for Frank to make short work of the open door and, once alone, he began slowly. "I made an attempt at what you said... did you not see it? Here I am, a grown man practically twice her age," he was exaggerating and he knew it, "and nothing I do pleases her."
Without really pausing for more than a moment to take a breath, Percy added, "Not that I'm sure pleasing her is what I wish for anymore."
"Nonsense Percy! Of course you want to please her. Believe me,
Percy. I have known you long enough to know when you really care about something...or someone, and you care about Marguerite more than I think you even admit to yourself." Frank shook his head lightly and sat down in one of the chairs near the bed, remembering when he had first come to Blakeney Manor, about the time of Percy's engagement to Mary. They had been happy, yes. But the way he had seen Percy look at Marguerite, the tenderness he showed...that was nothing like what he had seen with Mary. They were worlds apart. "Percy, you and Marguerite...that's like nothing I have ever seen. You two are more important to each other than I think either of you will admit, but you should. She's the most important thing you have and you know it."
Glancing away, Blakeney refused to meet Frank's eyes. Inside his head, he repeated sarcastic phrases in response to the valet's words. He had already learned the importance of not speaking his mind.
Standing, he moved over to the tray Frank had brought up and stole a few grapes from a bowl. Popping them one by one into his mouth, he paced. "You realize that she is not the most important thing to me Frank. You must realize that." Stopping, he turned and faced Frank, with France on his mind.
Frank stared at Percy incredulously for a moment. What was he saying? He couldn't really mean that. Even he was not that detached. "How can you say that Percy? If she isn't the most important thing, than what is??"
About to toss another grape in the air, his fingers crushed at that tense question, dribbling juice and fruit mush down his thumb. The towel near his dresser cleaned up the mess, giving him a chance to reply to Frank with his back turned. "I can say it because it is a simple truth," he lied.
"Saving unfortunate souls in France is surely a more noble cause." Turning inward, Percy refused to allow himself to be hurt by Marguerite's lashing tongue. Instead of lowering the wall, it was towering higher brick by thoughtless brick.
Gad, but he was an infuriating man sometimes! When was Percy going to awaken to reality? Frank thought. And, if he already was, when was he going to admit it? Heaving a disappointed sigh Frank took the towel from Percy and placed it on the tray to be sure it got cleaned. "Percy, saving innocent people is the most noble thing you could do. But that isn't what I asked. When you lie in bed at night, what do you think of? Is it the nameless mob of accused souls who need your help....or it your wife?"
"My boot maker." He turned and walked away from Frank, not willing to admit his weakness nor get into any sort of debate over who or what filled his mind. Avoiding eye contact, Percy walked over to the window and managed to bring along a small bit of bread. Tearing the loaf and bringing it to his lips, he stared at the stables, straining to spy Sultan. Anything to occupy his mind and take him away from this conversation.
Watching as Percy turned defensively to the window, Frank's heart went out to the other man. He cared deeply, that much Frank knew but something refused to allow him to completely admit it, and it was hurting both Percy and Marguerite. Crossing the room to the window, Frank stood behind Percy, merely wanting to be heard. "Percy, I know things seem rather....bleak at the moment. But they can get better, I swear it."
He nodded hearing Frank, but said no more. It was time to dress, so he excused his presence and headed towards his closet.