Playing Detective

The trip to the south had proven interesting but frustrating. Matthieu had seen little of Chauvelin during the days he spent near the ancestral home of the Belcourts. While he'd been a little disappointed in that, he supposed he couldn't have asked for much from him. The man was important and likely had many duties to attend to. Matthieu had to consider himself lucky just to have been given the chance to leave Paris in search of the Marquis.

Unfortunately he had not found much. The manor was still in the hands of the trusted servants of the Belcourts -- the Southern provinces somewhat lagged behind Paris when it came to revolutionary fervor. In other provinces the manor and its lands would now be in the hands of the people. At first Matthieu didn't think he'd be able to get any answer out of the servant. But then he discovered that his blue eyes had great effect on one of the Lady's chambermaids, so used his charm shamelessly to get answers from her.

There was little she could tell him. What he had learned was that the Marquis and his wife had not been seen on their lands in many months. Earlier that summer, they had sent for certain family heirlooms to be transported to their mansion in Paris. A servant and guards were dispatched, returning that same month. Then the September elections took place, and no word had been heard since from the Marquis. Affairs went on as normal at the manor, as they always did.

Matthieu interpreted this as presenting two possibilities. The Belcourts had either fled the country, or were in hiding in Paris. He could only hope that it was the second.

Back in Paris he found his thoughts continually focusing on the mystery of the missing Marquis and that creature he called a wife. It was even distracting him when he was painting, something that he couldn't allow. After all, he'd been commission by Robespierre himself. Suddenly he found himself very popular, with many commissions being offered. And he'd accepted many, in the days since he'd been back. He couldn't afford the distraction of the Belcours.

But not all of those commissions were painting. Some wanted sketches and portraits in pencil ... and those were portable. So he set out with charcoals and a sketchbook and found a comfortable nook to sit in across the street from the Belcour mansion. That way he could sketch _and_ watch....

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