Alone (but not for long)/ A Night at the theatre
"God this is a horrendous circle you've put me in!" His fist slammed down into the soapy water, making it splash up and onto the wooden floor. He had tried once after Sir Algernon's death to submerge himself under the tub water, but it was physically impossible to do. The tub was too small and not made for a tall man like Blakeney. He had gotten as far as his own chin, which did not ease or offer any comfort. So much for trying to find a submerged peaceful environment.
Standing up, he used his hands to run along his limbs and wipe off the excess water. Stepping out carefully, he strolled over to where his towel hung and began to dry off his body and hair. Putting on the bed robe, he moved into his room to see his dark brown suit that Frank had laid out for him. Common in cut, but richly embroidered across the entire cloth in gold, he nodded.
He was in the mood for such a dark color tonight and slowly began to dress.
Marguerite took special care trying to adjust the dress she was
wearing. The sleeves and bodice hung loosely and it appeared to be poorly fitting, although that was probably more of her own doing then the dress maker's. With a sigh she knew there was nothing really to be done, and it was a minor problem anyway. She sat at her table and carefully did her own hair and added the necklace and bracelet Percy had brought her from his frist trip as well.
Sliding on a pair of shoes she stepped out the door of her chambers, crossed down the hall and knocked on Percy's door.
He had on his long pants, socks, blouse and was half in his vest when the knock came. He wasn't feeling well, but it was more in spirit than physical. "Enter" he called out dully, glancing from the mirror he was dressing in front of, to his door.
Marguerite heard him call permission to come into the room. After entering, she closed to door behind her and watched from across the room as Percy continued to dress.
She came in and shut his door. Inwardly, he groaned. Holding him captive as usual, probably with a plothrah of questions. He
continued to dress, silently. Bringing about his cravat and tieing it through. Fixing the brown vest and buttoning them up. He watched himself in the mirror, but when she did not look, he would glance at her. Trying to figure out what her motive was.
Marguerite watched for a few moments from a distance as Percy silently
dressed himself. A friend form the theatre who was the mistress of a fair
number of men once told an innocent Marguerite that watching a man dress
was as exciting as watching him undress. Marguerite remarked if that was
the case the man must have been very ugly. But not now. Marguerite
watched as Percy so carefully fixed himself up for the night and could not
help but to smile.
She finally stepped forward, taking his coat and opening it to help him
into it when he was ready. "Did you enjoy your bath Percy?" she asked
innocently to break the silence.
Sir Percy glanced behind him with a thankful smile but shook his head at her. "Boots first Madame." He moved over to his chest, sat on it and picked up the boots. One by one, he silently put them on.
"I don't think boats before coat makes much difference Percy." she said with a laugh, still holding onto the coat. "It's not as if you tried to put your coat on before your shirt."
She was going to give him fashion advice? Bah! If there was one thing he could flaunt, Sir Percy flaunted fashion. As he stood, moving over to her and his coat, he gave a near cocky grin and spoke in the most confident of manners.
"Madame, while you may be the wittiest woman in all of Europe, you certainly will not hold a candle to, nor douse mine when it comes to the fine art of fashion."
Sir Percy slipped his arms in the coat, taking it over, and proceeded to school her. "Unbeknownst to you, there is a proper order one must follow and it has been my secret for years. Certainly, most take on your attitude. Does it matter boots before coat? Cravat before boots? Why yes it makes all the difference in the world."
He finished pressing down the coat and linked the gold chain from the top button over to the other side so the coat could remain open but contained. "See? Had the coat been on before the boots, it would only allow for that many more wrinkles to appear." Sir Percy smiled. If it was one thing the man could lecture on, it was this.
She couldn't help but to laugh as her silly husband. Percy was known as
the best dressed man in England and damn proud of it, and she was not
about to spoil his thunder. Once his coat was in place she dare to wrap
her arms under it and around his torso, "My name is Marguerite," she said
in a teasing tone, "and I am not about to challenge you on your sense of
fashion, clearly you have secerts that are as of now still unknown to me."
She was actually giving in on something. Blakeney made a mental note as this seemed to be a first. "Thank you Marguerite." He
added. "Let us go now and speak no more of my fashion secrets. God only knows that once Frederick knows you know my tricks, he will be visiting every other day." He offered his arm and led her out of his room. "Where is your brother anyway? Isn't he coming with us?"
Marguerite released him and took his arm, "Do not worry Percy, all of your
secerts are safe with me. I would be very shock if Armand declined a
chance to see Alexia so I assume he is coming, probably in the kitchen
looking for food before we go.
Sometime around four-thirty, Armand had come back from meeting with Hélène. It had been a rather long lunch, but he was late due to the fact that he had walked his horse home by foot rather than ride. He didn't know why he did this. He just did. By the time he saw where the sun was, he was halfway up the steps into the Blakeney Manor. Cursing under his breath, he trudged to his room and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to wear. Then he saw himself in the mirror: covered in dust from the dragging of both his feet and the horse's. Cursing again, he somehow managed to take a bath. By that time, it was five-fifteen.
"Zut!" He moaned. He massacred his closet and hit his head on the doorframe at one point. "MERDE!" He cried. He leaned against the wall rubbing his head. Then he saw himself in the mirror again: red faced, in his undergarments, his hair damp and uncombed. He started to laugh. It was too funny.
Finally, he chose gold breeches, a gold vest and a maroon velvet coat. He left off the lace tonight. The only lace was at his wrists, and he carefully buttoned up the vest. Pulling the coat on, he realized his hair was still not brushed. He groaned and raked the comb through it, wincing as it yanked out half his
hair. He tied it back and he raced out the door.
When he slipped and fell on the marble floor, he realized that he had forgotten shoes, so he ran back up the stairs to his room, ducking past Percy and Marguerite as he did so. He knew Percy was going to have a field day with this one. Had he seen him fall?
Armand pulled on his boots and walked downstairs. He hoped he didn't have a bump on his head from hitting it.
Marguerite had jumped back as a blur she thought was Armand rushedby. "Well, I think that's the answer to our question." she mused.
"Egads! If I was quicker, I would have stuck my foot out." He
smiled and gave a giggle. Sir Percy loved his petty torments.
"And if you had," Armand said, coming up behind Percy and elbowing him in the ribcage, "I...I would have...well, I would have done SOMETHING." He grinned. "So, we leaving now?" He ask, casually. He knew they were a little late because him.
"So are we leaving now?" The Baronet laughed and still held onto Marguerite's hand. "You say that as if tis YOU waiting on US." The friendly grin crossed his features. "Yes, well." Blakeney looked out the front door window to see the carriage and awaiting team. "Frank has us all ready to depart. Marguerite?" He asked and opened the door for the lady.
"After you both," Armand said, waving a hand. This looked like a pleasent evening. Marguerite and Percy seemed... warmer to each other. Percy wasn't cold and formal to his wife. And he held her hand. Armand's stomach twisted with jealousy-- Percy could touch his wife without her being afraid.... Axelia was afraid. Not of him, no... but of the world.
Marguerite nodded and stepped through the door, pausing to take Percy's
arm as he followed and led her down to the waiting carriage. "So Armand,
what production is at the theatre right now?"
Helping Marguerite up to the carriage, he followed her in. Once
Armand sat down, Frank gave the horses a whack and the four horse team lurched the covered carriage forward. Blakeney's mind went over ideas in his head about what he could or could not say to Helene. Would she have the child Louise with her? The child so young, he assumed so and prepared himself mentally what he would do if she should slip.
"Ah... Oh she told me the other day... what was it?" Armand racked his mind for the title, which was eluding him. " 'M- something'... Oh... I don't know... 'M...Ma...Macbeth', that was it. 'Macbeth'." He gave a mousy little grin at his sister. "See? I knew I'd get it sometime."
He was rather quiet during the ride, looking across at Armand, trying to meet his eyes when Marguerite was not looking. He tried a few times to catch his attention and raise his brows in such a way to find out if Armand had arranged it all with Helene. He had not a chance to steal away from Marguerite to find out and be brought up to date.
Helene was cutting it close. It was almost six when she arrived home. Louise looked up, surprised at her early appearance. "Hello, Louise." Helene miled. "We're going to go to the theatre tonight; would you like that?"
Louise's eyes lit up with excitement, and she bounded up--well, not quite bounded, but as close as Helene had ever seen her get. "It is true, Helene?" Only a little while in England, and already her English was excellent. Granted, she had known a little before leaving France, but she had learned the majority here. Well, seeing a play would give her a chance
to practice understanding.
"Yes, dear. Now, we've got to hurry and get ready." Louise was already dressed, wearing the sapphire gown Percy had bought on their first day in England. It was, in fact, her only dress. Helene still wore the simple, earthen colored, practical garb that was her own sole garment. With a
horrible paroxysm of guilt, she had sold the rich peach satin Percy had given her--she had no use for it, and she did need to money, if only to pay him back. But Louise's she would not touch. It had been a gift to the little girl, and Helene had no right to sell it--especially when Louise liked it so much.
Helene washed her face and hands, then set about braiding Louise's golden
curls in a simple but elegant style. "Now, remember, cherie--you mustn't
speak French to Percy. Pretend you don't know him at all. You can pretend,
can't you?" She spoke French now, as it was important Louise understand
this.
The little girl frowned. "Why?"
The cursed word of all children. Helene remembered wryly that it had been
her favorite word, as well. Why, indeed? She fell back on her earlier
theory about Percy fearing his own government. In language that Louise
would understand, of course, and be sufficiently impressed by. "Many people
are mad at him for coming to take us to safety. If they know he knows us,
they might arrest him." There, that would keep her sufficiently silent.
She could feel Louise stiffen slightly in alarm at her words and promise
solemnly to speak only English.
"Just pretend it's a game," Helene advised, "a marvelous game." She
finished plaiting Louise's hair and twisted her own up, making a face at its
cropped length. At least dealing with it was no longer such a hassle.
Taking Louise by the hand, she locked up the flat and stepped out into the
cool evening air.
In about fifteen minutes they arrived at the theatre. About five minutes
early, they waited outside on the street, enjoying the breeze as it played
with strands of their hair and the ends of their skirts. The sun was just
setting, and although the horizon was obscured by buildings, the sky was a
lovely shade of deep, twilight rose. Before they had been waiting ten
minutes, an elegant carriage drew up from down the street. As it
approached, Helene strained her eyes a bit--was it them? She had to admit
that she was very excited. She had never been to the theatre before, never
having had the money, but had always wanted to go.
The trio held a pleasant conversation on their way to the theatre. Percy
was much warmer and friendly to her that evening, perhaps their activities
in the card room after his nap had brought back some better memories
that she could use to patch the rift between them up, but for now she was
just looking forward to a peaceful night out with Percy and Armand.
As they neared the theatre, Marguerite took time to see part of the town
of Richmond. She had never been down this way since coming to England and
was glad to finally see it. The carriage slowed as it turned the final
corner and stopped in front of the small town theatre.
The carriage slowed and stopped not ten feet from where Helene stood with
Louise. And yes! There was Marguerite's face in the window; marriage and
the passage of time had done little to alter her youth and beauty. She just
looked a tad--wiser, Helene supposed, than the time the two women had last
seen each other. And inside, barely visible, Armand and Percy seemed to be
in lively conversation...
Smiling genuinely, Helene went to greet them. She assumed that this was a
planned visit--even though it was *not* planned that she and Percy should
already have been introduced; they would have to go through the pretense of
that--but surely the ostensible story was that Armand had arranged this so
she could revisit with him and his sister and get introduced to the
brother-in-law. Helene also thought that Armand would have shared the news
of her presence in England with Marguerite, if only on a "hey listen to what
I just found out" level.
She decided not to act on her assumptions unless pressed, however--as she
had not had the time during the day to work out all details with Armand, she
would let him make the first move. If he acted surprised at her presence
here, however, then she would be hard put to explain herself...She *hoped*
that Armand and Percy had planned this as a, "oh, invite your friend who
just arrived in England and introduce her to me" scene.
Marguerite exited the carriage first and Sir Percy, upon following, put on his top hat and swiveled his cane around in front of him a bit. He saw her right away, of course. She was wearing something plain, but he noted young Louise in the dress he had purchased while briefly in London. That made Blakeney smile. Reminding himself of the game, he glanced about and Sir Percy brought his hand up to his mouth and yawned heavily.
"What a bugger of a ride! My back is sore." He reached around and rubbed his spine and the midsection of his back. Glancing back at the carriage, he watched Armand finally make his appearance. "Egad. I thought for a moment we would be bringing into the theatre the horses before you were coming out!" Then, he offered his arm to his wife and looked about at the rest of the English nobles arriving on the scene.
Marguerite noted a few slightly familiar faces from the ball, but no one
she had specifically met. A few faces looked her way, including some of
people who were not at the ball, all getting a glance at the new Lady
Blakeney. Marguerite just decided to focus on Percy and Armand and ignore
the stares. Taking her husband's arm, she urged Armand on, "Why must you
always be lagging behind so little brother, we don't want to miss the
curtain."
Armand made a face. "I'm coming, Margot, I just have to say hello to..." He went over to Hélène and Louise and dragged them over to Margot. "Marguerite, I'm sure you remember Hélène Leroux, from Paris. Jacques' sister? And this is Louise...."
Helene took hold of Louise's hand and followed as Armand grabbed her and
pulled her toward Marguerite. She had to smile as his enthusiasm almost
made her stumble. Politely extricating her hand from his, she smiled at
Marguerite, coming forward to embrace her old friend dearly. "Marguerite!
It's been too long, mon cherie..."
"Helene?" Marguerite said as she turned around to see Helene standing
there with a little girl in tow. Marguerite's eyes immediatly lit up as
she threw her arms around the other woman. "Helene, oh my god
Helene! What in the world are you doing here? In Richmond of all places,
we had heard," glancing about at the other nobles, Marguerite lowered her
voice, "We had heard you had been arrested."
"I was. They finally caught up to us." She could not stop a slight shudder
from shadowing her eyes. "I was several weeks in prison, waiting for Madame
la Guillotine, before I managed to escape." She hoped Marguerite wouldn't
ask about *that* part--in fact, she had purposely used the word "escape"
instead of "rescue" to discourage awkward questions. If pressed, she would
say some old friends in the Republican hierarchy had felt pity and pulled
strings to let her out. It was a plausible story; her profession had let
her know many other outspoken people, and more than one had harkened to the
cry of the Revolution. "Jacques is still in France, though not in prison,
thank God. He is trying to come over, but..." She sighed. "It is not easy.
But I talk too much, Marguerite; it has always been a fault of mine. How
are you? I hear you are married now?" Her words were excited for her
friend, and her gaze drifted over behind Marguerite to where Sir Percy
stood. No recognition registered on her face, only the speculative gaze of
a woman wishing to meet her friend's new husband. "Oh, Marguerite, my
congratulations."
At that moment, Percy himself stepped over to interrupt the conversation...
Looking over at the four, the Baronet reached into his pocket and
took out his eye glass. "I dare say, whot the devil? Friends in
Richmond!?" The lazy blue eye appeared huge behind the eye glass as
Sir Percy inspected the new comers. Taking his long and lanky legs,
the tall Englishman moved over slowly and leaned in right at Helene
and Louise.
Louise, unused to such strange behavior--especially from a man who had so
recently acted perfectly normal, and even, to the child's mind,
exceptionally trustworthy--stepped back a bit, her gaze faltering.
Helene, however, true to her somewhat--shall we be kind and say, unique--personality, met the man's gaze unfalteringly an inch from her nose with a cool and level stare of her own. A slight smile showed her polite tolerance of the situation. "Marguerite, cherie," she murmured, almost
under her breath considering the close quarters of Percy's observations, "Do be so kind as to introduce me to this charming man." Her sarcasm was plain, but not blatant enough to be rude.
Hearing them speak, he stood up and gave a hearty laugh, putting the
eye glass back in his vest pocket. "Odd's Life! I'm just surrounded
by French these days. Why, a man can not even be in his own English
town without becoming infested. I've always said I started a plague
by marrying French. Tell me Madame, who are your dear little
friends?"
"You've always said nothing of the sort Percy." Marguerite retorted, "Come
meet Helene, a friend of ours from Paris. Helene Leroux, this is my
husband, Sir Percival Blakeney; Percy, Helene Leroux of Paris."
"Say now, do you live inside my head where I carry on some of the
best of my conversations?" Sir Percy looked dully down at
Marguerite. He had said he started a plague on many an occasion.
She was not as clever as she claimed to be, now was she?
"Those are conversations that I doubt I'll miss." Marguerite teased with a
gentle smile on her face.
Blakeney glanced over at her dully, but said nothing. At seeing her
teasing face, he offered no smile or tease back.
Helene watched the byplay between the couple, a tad confused. She couldn't
help feeling that she was missing something. Some underlying feeling
beneath their words...almost a competitiveness. She glanced at Marguerite
and was shocked to see overt challenge in her friend's jade green eyes. And
Percy...Percy was standing languidly, but indomitably. His blue eyes looked
cold, and the smile had disappeared. He seemed the man who would not give
an inch of ground. But that was nonsense! Why should such a subtle
hostility exist between these two? Wasn't Marguerite happily married? The
moment passed, however, and Helene, bewildered, told herself she had only
been imagining things...
"Helen Le Rosh?" Sir Percy butchered the flowing french with his
richly thick English accent. "A pleasure Mon Ammmy." He extended
his hand, took Helene's fingers and kissed them every so gently in
the manner of an English gentlemen. When he looked at her in the
eye, Sir Percy's lazy blues gave no wink or hint of even letting her
know all was okay. He just stared at Helene about as interested as
he was in listening to his wife's witty comments.
Armand beamed at his friends. They seemed to be doing all right. But what
did Percy mean, a plague?
"Tiens, Percy!" Armand said, indignantly, figuring the
Baronet was making one of his little jokes, "We're ALL French here, save
yourself. I think your outnumbered just a bit, mon ami."
Marguerite watched as Percy greeted Helene. She could feel herself
growing somewhat envous. When was the last time Percy had placed gentle
kisses on her own delecate hand?
Taking leave of Helene's fingers, he glanced over and about.
Wondering what would be said next and who would become more nervous
about the game. Armand? Helene? Blakeney glanced down at the quiet
girl. So far, she was holding up her end of the bargain as well.
Curtsying as properly as she knew how--her life in France had required only
a rare practice of the attitude--Helene murmured pleasantries back. "The
pleasure is mine, Sir Percival." She was careful to pronounce the name the
way Marguerite had said it. "Marguerite and I have been out of touch for a
while; but I hope you will accept my belated congratulations on your
marriage." She stepped back and nudged Louise forward. "Marguerite, Sir
Percival, this is Louise D'Amours--in her parents' absence I have been
taking care of her." She squeezed Louise's arm reassuringly, but the little
girl had already dropped into a perfect curtsy, revealing her aristocratic
breeding. "A plejur, Sir and Madam," she pronounced in her tiny voice.
Helene smiled at her English. The word "pleasure" had been truncated into a
Frenglish version, but it was quite understandable. Helene glanced over at Armand. She was
only too aware of the fine dress gracing the people who streamed past them
into the theatre...she hoped her presence was not too awkward for the
Blakeneys. "I hope you will forgive Armand for inviting us here
tonight...he is an old friend of mind from back in France, and we have been
talking since I arrived in England. I was under the impression he had told
you," she added, almost apologetically; she needed *some* excuse for being
here. Of course--she knew that Percy had orchestrated the whole meeting,
but how to explain herself without letting on *that* bit of information?
Not that anyone would ever guess. She had not let her slight surprise at
his attitude show on her face, but internally, she was marvelling at this
man's ability to play a part. Obviously the secrecy he had warned her about
was far more serious than even she had realized...
"Armand!" Marguerite exclaimed, "why didn't you tell me Helene was here in
England, and in Richmond no less." she could have continued scolding him,
but instead turned her attention to the little girl. She bent down to
come to Louise's eye level, "Well little one, I am very pleased to meet
you." she said in her native French, most likely a bit easier for Louise
to understand.
"I, ah... well, see, I kind of... um, surprise?" he finished lamely. "I'm
sorry, Margot, it sort of slipped my mind." Armand winked at Louise when
Marguerite's back was turned. "Besides... the more the merrier, right,
Louise?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets, grinning happily.
Seeing at how the curtain was about to go up, it was his job to go and
check to see if there were any late stragglers. As he stepped out he saw the
best dressed man in England, Sir Percival Blakeney, his new wife Marguerite,
the young gentleman from the opening night of "Merchant of Venice," a young
woman and a young child outside just gossiping. Scowling slightly he went
over to them.
"Ahem.... If you would please the show is about to begin and if you
would kindly take your seats..." With that he held the door open for them
all the while thinking of their rudeness.
"Well, everyone, you heard the man-- chop chop!" Armand imitated Percy and
offered his arm to Lousie.
"Young citizeness, I would be honoured if I could claim such a fair jewel's
arm with mine own. May I?" He bowed, ceremoniously, to the nine-year-old, who
seemed a little... frightened?
He had been quiet once they arrived and the ushers quickly motioned
for the group outside to come in. Blakeney and Lady Blakeney had
words and he was not in the mood to continue squabbling. She had
awoken him up in such a manner that left his mind confused and
doubting himself.
He knew he couldn't doubt his work. How foolish of him to weaken yet
again in her arms. No. He kept his focus across the way during the
carriage ride and the small spat the two had in front of the theatre
would pass. He offered his arm to her when he was supposed too. He
waited for her to take a seat in the box before he did. He watched
Armand move about and anxiously look to the performance of his lady
friend.
He wished he had more time to speak with Helene and Louise. Well,
Helene really. Louise seemed taken aback by him, which was better
than the alternative. Had she welcomed him openly, that would be a
horrid thing to happen in the presence of Lady Blakeney. There would
be time after the show. Of that, the Baronet was sure.
Once the theatre candles dimmed, he rested his elbow on the box seat
ledge and rested his head on his gloved hand. He was not tired, but
Sir Percy always had a reputation to uphold. Even when in France,
attending the performances of Marguerite St. Just, he would take on
this sort of tired and uninterested mannerisms. Tonight was no
different.
He half listened to the play he had seen over a dozen times in his
life time. To England, Shakespeare was it all. He probably could go
up and plant himself as some poor saps understudy, had he ever
decided to give up silent acting and go in front of a stage. The
thought never occurred to him as a reality however. He hated a
true "live audience", if there was actually a difference.
He pretended to fall asleep during the performance, and when the
intermission candles flamed in full, he continued to lean over on his
hand, his lazy blue eyes firmly shut. Only when someone either
accidentally bumped his chair or purposefully hit it, did Sir Percy
startled, jerk awake and glance about with his languid smile.
Of course, during the second half, he felt his box mates looking back
upon him from time to time. He might have made it up, as his head
was still paranoid and plagued by the earlier kiss from his wife.
Silent still, he stood and helped his wife out of her chair, once the
show was over. He had clapped well, calling out Bravo numerous times
in his foppish manner over those performing. When Armand's little
girl came out, he yelled louder and more obnoxious than he could
remember. Funny how nerves can make a person react. He refused to
look at either Marguerite or her brother as Sir Percy smiled and
clapped, giving a near solo standing ovation at Axelia's performance
at first.
Armand led the way, and quietly, he led Marguerite after to follow.
The actions of the actress Lady Macbeth confused Blakeney, as he
could not tell if Armand and her were happy or sad. No matter, they
ended up keeping off near the side door leading to the back, slightly
looking out into the bottom doors on the theatre floor.
Odd how memory haunts you. As this little English theatre emptied of
its patrons, Blakeney could not help but think of the first time he
ever actually spoke to Marguerite. The atmosphere was very similar
to the now near empty chairs and rooms. He could almost picture
himself anxiously awaiting to meet Maeve as he had slipped the note
to a staff member. How foolish he felt. Much like Armand twitched
about, he imagined.
"Oh what are these turbulent memories inside my head?" Blakeney
moaned deeply and silently. Taking out his eye glass, he squinted
down on it and glanced about. Helene and Louise would hopefully find
them. Armand and his date would hopefully come back out. Until
then, he was stuck with his wife leaning on his arm.
What more could he do at the moment?
Marguerite looked up at Percy, noting the distant look in his eyes. She
wondered once more what secerts lay behind his soft, lazy
eyes. "Percy," she said, leaning up to whisper in his ear before asking
that familar question, "what are you thinking about?"
She broke his concentration and the six foot odd of tall gorgeousness
turned his languid and distant stare down upon her. "Thinking
Marguerite?" He had been thinking about how much he loved her. How
many years he would sit in silence in his lonely box seat, pretending
to be uninterested, yet his heart yearned for her. How nervous he
had become. Him. Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet, the richest man in
England, save the King. Him, 32 years of age, near spooked on what
to say to a 20 year old woman.
"Nothing much Madame." His dull voice answered and his gaze returned
once more to gloss over the now empty theatre audience
chamber. "Just a memory once as a child came to mind. First visit
to a theatre, you know." He looked up and down this back stage
hallway. Where were the others?
"Oh really Percy?" Marguerite remarked. Considering most of his life as a
youngester was spent on a boat at sea, the mention of going to the theatre
as a child surprised her, "What was that like for you Percy?"
"Same as anything else encountered I suppose." He was not in the
mood to speak, at least not about fond memories to her. His dull
stare continued out into the main theatre chamber and he brought his
gloved hand up over his mouth to yawn. It was never hard to act out
the tiredness of Sir Percy, as Blakeney liked to stay awake at
certain times during the night. Plotting. Thinking.
Marguerite gave Percy a strange look. He had returned to just brushing
her off again it seemed, "Percy, is something wrong?"
Foolish he was for thinking she would be silent. He would have
better luck dunking an angry cat in a washing well. Letting out a
small breath of air, Blakeney gave in and motioned with his gloved
hand out towards the chamber floor. "I remember as a child finding
everything so emensly huge and intimidating." He waved his
fingertips about the room. Did he remember his first trip to the
theatre? Probably not. He would have been a babe in his mother's
arms. Still, whatever it took to placate her, he let the words
escape from his lips.
Percy still did not seem all himself that night. Perhaps he was still
tired, Marguerite thought. She continued to hold onto his arm for a short
while before the silence became to much. "Perhaps it is time we say
goodnight to Helene and met Armand to head home." she suggested.
Glancing at her, he brought his hand up and coughed. "I thought you
might like to have a night cap or such. Catch up with your little
French friend Helen," he was purposefully messing up the
pronunciation of course, "and allow some time to get to know Armand's
little love interest." He said love almost with a bit of distaste in
his voice.
Marguerite sensed discontent in the tone of Percy's voice, and declined
the offer, "No, now that I know Helene is here, there will be plenty of
time to catch up. I think it would be best if we began back for home."
Glancing down at her, he damned himself for marrying such a difficult
wife. The first wanted money. This one wanted the last word. "No, I
don't think that will do Marguerite." His voice was even as he
forced himself to remain calm. "I wished to come out tonight, and I
am certainly not ready to turn back so soon."
"There, let her respond to that!" he thought vainly.
"Alright then, if you insist, but only if you're sure you are feeling
alright, you seem a little tired." she replied as she gently stroked his
soft cheek.
He nodded at her and glanced around. Where the devil was Armand, his
girl, Helene and Louise? He wasn't sure how much longer he was going
to stand there and subject himself to the endless stream of
questions. Soon enough, if they did not appear, he was going to
stroll down these halls, pound on a few dressing room doors, and find
them himself.
Still standing with Maeve in the hallway, Blakeney lead her up and
down, calling out Armand's name. When he did not hear an immediate
response, he looked on the wall for the list of actors, and began
asking anyone around about Lady MacBeth, aka Axelia.
He wasn't sure if he was annoying Marguerite, but he knew he was in
dire need of more company.
Marguerite, tired of being dragged back and forth, finally released
Percy as he looked for the others and turned her attention to little
Louise who had been following them back and forth. "Well Louise, what
did you think of the performance?"
Delighted at being addressed in her native French, Louise smiled up
at her new friend. "I enjoyed it, Madame. But I didn't understand
much. Helene has been teaching me English, but the play went so fast
that it was hard to understand."
He wasn't entirely nervous at being left alone with Lady Blakeney and
the child. Having made mistakes in the past, he certainly did not
want Louise to slip, as a child could only be expected to do.
Carefully stepping completely behind Marguerite, Blakeney listened to
the two of them speak. It didn't matter to him if they were speaking
in French or English. He understood their converstation all the same.
Peeking his head around, still a few feet behind Marguerite with her
backside to him, he brought up one gloved hand and placed his index
finger over his mouth and nodded slowly seriously with the tiniest of
grins.
The tall Baronet caught Louise's eye as he stepped behind Marguerite,
his gloved finger to his lips. Her eyes widened solemnly and she
fastened her attention back on Marguerite. She remembered what Helene
had told her...remembered what had happened to her parents.
When it appeared that Marguerite might turn around to move, Sir Percy
quickly put on his foppish smile and wiggled all five gloved fingers
in front of his face at the child. Stooping over slightly, Sir Percy
started making little "Hi" silent faces and bobbed his head up and
down. At least he could try and make Louise laugh, if not fully
understand him.
Distracted from her conversation with Marguerite, Louise began to
smile, and then a tiny giggle escaped. This *was* the same funny man
who had played games with her on that awful walk away from home, even
if she wasn't allowed to speak French to him. Now, she laughed at his
antics. It was okay for her to stop pretending not to see him now,
wasn't it? She thought so. She had the vaguest feeling that he was
*trying* to make her laugh. She didn't know why, but it felt good.
His smile crossed and he straighten himself up again to the full six
foot tall odd of Blakeney. He glanced with a merry little grin from
Marguerite to Louise. Quiet as a mouse as they two talked in French.
Marguerite turned just slightly to see Percy making silly faces at Louise
to make her laugh. She couldn't help herself but to giggle, remembering
how silly Percy could be to get a laugh. She turned her attention back to
the little girl, "Oh don't mind him, he is rather a goof isn't he?"
Still giggling, Louise nodded emphatically. "Oui, Madame."
Seeing her turn her back to him once more, Blakeney opened his mouth
to protest her remark on fluffing him off. Quickly however, he
clamped it shut and reminded himself "Sir Percy does not speak
French." Rather a troublesome career block, but one he had to remind
himself of constantly.
He moved closer to them, looking back and forth stupidly pretending
to not understand their conversation. Putting his hands behind his
back, he glanced up and down the back stage hallway yet again.
Where were the others?
Marguerite continued chatting with the little girl when and idea hit
her. She stood to face her husband, "Percy, I have the most wonderful
idea."
The tall Baronet had stopped making funny faces, and Louise's giggles died
down. Her new friend Lady Blakeney had stopped talking to her now, and was
saying something in English. Louise tried to follow the conversation, but
could only understand a few words. They talked so fast!
His mind began to wander on how Paul D. was doing in France and that
as the numbers grew each day, he himself would need to pay a visit.
This mornings papers spoke of 30+ going daily to the guillotine and
that number was only growing.
His lazy blues scanned the hallway, and he was just about to go
search for where Armand had gone again. The brief encounter. Armand
saying, "I'll be right back." and then gallivanting off to God only
knew where in these theater walls.
She broke him from the conversation he was having in his head, and
looking as if he hadn't had a thought, ever, the dull, lazy look
turned in her direction. "Mmmm?" He blinked. "An idea. Daresay,
now isn't that a novelty?" He realized best turn up the fool, so
added, "What is this grand scheming going on and around in your head
My dear?"
Marguerite stood up and close to her husband, gently placing her hands on
his shoulders and leaning into him, "Let's hire Helene, as a tutor for
Sarah. I told Emma I'd look into a tutor for little Sarah, and even for
Emma herself is she wished to work on her own reading and writing
skills. And she could even bring Louise too and then the girls would each
have someone to play with and I'm sure Helene would much prefer teaching
the girls over working where ever she is now. Oh Percy, can't we offer
her a position at the manor?"
The look on Sir Percy's face was strictly one that was dumbstruck.
Blakeney stood there as if he were a little boy who suddenly crept
around in the dark and had a lantern shine directly in his eyes.
Fear crept into his paranoid mind. Could she have suspected now?
Did she know?
He told himself it was impossible. Marguerite certainly couldn't
have known about his part with this little girl and
Helene. "Coincidence", he told himself. Poor Marguerite. All she
received for an answer was his dumbfounded and confused stare.
Marguerite looked up at Percy's odd stare, "Well?" she said, slightly
impatient, "Percy, what do you think, can we hire Helene?"
He shook his head to clear and nodded at his wife. "Wee wee
Madame." He quickly tried to pretend like he was finishing processing
their ongoing French. "It is a simply marvelous, MARVELOUS, idea."
His voice rose in tone and the foolish smile crossed his face.
Recovering, he added to manipulate the direction of the
conversation, "What about room and board for the child? If she is
hired, certainly she should live in the house like the rest of the
staff? Yes my sweet?"
After he said it, he regretted it. He hadn't meant to encourage her,
but at the same time, Blakeney wanted Marguerite to fall right into
his way or working. He kept the usual half awake and disinterested
look on his face, and waited to see where the cards fell.
"Oh yes Percy that would be a wonderful idea. So much more easier then
traveling back and forth from the town. Oh, I can't wait until she comes
back to ask her." marguerite was overjoyed at being able to help Helene
with a job and pleased Percy had agreed to it. She stood up on her toes
and gave Percy a sweet kiss on his lips, "Thank you so much Percy, you
don't know what this means to me, or to Armand."
It almost felt like they were that long forgotten team once more. He
and she, working together towards one common idea. He was pleased
she was so quick to agree, and he was even more pleased when she
thanked him as such.
He did not even have time to enjoy her excited kiss, so quickly it
came and departed. Standing there, feeling truly like the British
fop, he was now without once more. Nodding, he looked up and down
the empty hallway of the theatre.
"Perhaps the three of us should go and find the rest. Axelia,
Helene, and Armand." Maeve took him by surprise, and he didn't catch
his small error. Pointing with his cane towards the front of the
main lobby, he directed "Shall we?"
"Of course Percy," she said as she took his arm. Looking down she offered
little Louise her hand, "Come Louise, we're going to go find Helene. I'm
sure the night won't be too much longer for you, I'm sure you're very
tired by now." She looked down at the little girl with now droopy eyes
as Percy lead the way.
Louise nodded and willingly took Marguerite's hand. She wasn't as tired as
she might have been, as her body was on a schedule that revolved around
Helene's late hours, but she hadn't been out in a long time and the night
had been fatiguing. At the Lady's words, her little pallet in their flat
seemed suddenly very inviting, and she stifled a yawn. She hoped Helene
would skip her lessons tonight; she usually enjoyed them, but today she
would prefer to go to bed...
After Sir Jon had walked away, Helene stood for a moment, looking after him
speculatively. Something about his manner had bothered her. You're just
paranoid because you *thought* you heard him call you a citoyenne, she
chided herself. But she couldn't shake the feeling that his words had
seemed...perhaps a bit standoffish? He had acted as if he wasn't quite
pleased with something. Shaking her head, she turned away. She
wondered how Armand knew the man.
She reentered the theatre with the thought of finding the Blakeney’s--somehow
with this whole business between Armand and Axelia the group had gotten
separated. It was only a minute before she ran into Percy, Marguerite, and
Louise--in fact, they looked as if they were looking for her.
Marguerite saw Helene in the lobby of the theatre, virtually running into
the group. Bubbling over with excitement, she could barely contain
herself. "Helene, I'm so glad we found you. there is something very
important I want to speak to you about."
Helene smiled at her friend and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Of
course, Marguerite. What is it?" She spoke in English, ostensibly for the
benefit of Sir Percy--she never thought it polite to speak another language
around people who didn't understand it, especially when all parties were
fluent in a common tongue. This, however, was a bit of an ironic
situation--Helene knew very well that Sir Percy understood every word she
said, French or English.
The baronet, however, seemed to have other plans in mind than listening to
the two women talk...
His lazy eyes glanced about, and turned, hearing Marguerite spotting
Helene. He hadn't wanted to push his luck, so he tried not to look
at the little girl very much. He could see she was tiring and
hearing Marguerite engage in conversation, it dawned on him that her
discussing a situation could take a while.
Moving near, he took a hold of Louise's hand and smiled up at
Marguerite. "Perhaps you two should discuss it for a moment alone.
Just in case." He smiled and thought himself rather smart for using
Louise's feelings as a diversion. He had been drawn to her cuteness
and charm from the beginning, and something inside tugged at him.
When Marguerite nodded, Blakeney bend over to pick up the child.
Cradling her in one arm, the tall Brit balanced Louise with the
other.
Percy's words made Helene curious about what Marguerite was going to say to
her. What could have happened in the few moments since she had last been
talking with the couple as they all went backstage? Certainly it was
nothing bad; Marguerite seemed fairly bursting with excitement. She glanced
after Percy and Louise as they wandered off into the now-empty theatre.
Such softness seemed surprising in the Baronet; she remembered gladly she
had viewed his unexpected tenderness toward the little girl on their walk
from Paris. "Your husband seems a good man, Marguerite," she said, softly,
in French. She dared not hazard any more than that, saying only what the
man's actions toward Louise this night might have inspired her to say. "Or
should I be calling you 'Lady Blakeney' now?" She grinned. "Now, tell me
this news that you seem to be so excited about."
"Don't be silly, of course it's still Marguerite." she exclaimed, before leaning in and saying softly, "Goodness, even the ladies in waiting Percy hired call me Marguerite when no one else is around. Now," she continued more excitedly, "Percy and I would like to offer you a position at Blakeney Manor..."
Helene's first thought was one of astonished exultation. No more working
ridiculous hours...no more exhaustion...no more degrading employers...
She couldn't help the thought, however, that this might be more charity on
Sir Percy's part. And what kind of job did they want her for?
Marguerite seemed to read her mind...
"Now, I hope you won't take offense at the idea of Percy and I offering you a job, but I'm sure things have been difficult since coming to England, especially with Louise to take care of, and a person of your intelligence deserves more then working as a waitress..."
She "was sure things had been difficult?" Then Armand had not told her.
Come to think of it, Armand had not even told Marguerite she was in
England--of course he had not expounded on her situation! And Helene had
been with them the whole night. Only Percy and Marguerite had been alone
for a moment...but if this were Percy's idea, why hadn't he mentioned it
before? And why was Marguerite the one asking her?
"One of my girls has a younger sister, about Louise's age, and I promised Emma that I would see to tutor for her sister..."
Mon dieu! Something that she would use her mind for! It was almost too
good to be true...
And if what Marguerite was saying was true, then this wasn't a position
created out of charity. The other Frenchwoman's words served to further
convince Helene of what she had already concluded...this had been all
Marguerite's idea...and it was a legitimate offer that she was opening to a
friend before trying to find someone else.
"Of course, as with everyone else on staff you would be allowed to live at the manor, and I'm sure little Louise and Sarah would each enjoy a playmate, not to mention the fact the Armand and I would enjoy the company of an old friend." Marguerite paused to wait for Helene's reaction.
Louise! Have a playmate? Lead a semi-normal life? And for the little girl
to be able to live in the luxury she was used to... "Oh, Marguerite..."
Helene's voice was touched with something; it was lowered a pitch and
difficult to hear. She took her friend's hands in her own. "Oh,
Marguerite, thank you. I would love to come to work for you and your
husband. I--" For once in her life, words failed the young woman.
Inwardly, she shook her head at herself--why was she getting even this
emotional about it? The truth was, working as a waitress and maid had
slowly been driving the her crazy, as well as exhausting her...the prospect
of being able to lead a decent life from now on seemed almost too good to be
true. She smiled. "Thank you, Marguerite."
Marguerite gave her dear friend a soft hug, "think nothing of it my
friend. Now, I'm sure you'll need a day or so to settle everything here
in town and pack your things. Shall we send a coach for you at the end of
the week?"
Helene almost laughed. She could probably carry everything she owned with
one hand. All she needed to do was let her boss and her landlady know that
she was leaving, and that would hardly take long. She could come tonight if
they wanted her. But doubtless they would want time to prepare for the
arrival of two new people..."That would be fine." Salary had not been
mentioned, but Helene would have taken the job in any case. Besides, Percy
and Marguerite were not the types of people who would trick someone into
coming to work and then cheat her with low wages. In fact, she worried
about the opposite--she hoped they wouldn't try to pay her any more than she
deserved. She had never worked for friends before--would it work out?
Somehow, she thought it would.
The two women chatted a while longer. The theatre had begun to grow dark, however, as the ushers went around extinguishing the lights. One usher looked toward the two women a tad irritably; Helene realized the man probably wanted to go home. "Perhaps we should find the others, Marguerite--where *can* they have gone off to?"
"Oh yes, I'm sure little Louise would be tired and want to go to bed
soon." Marguerite said as she turned and began to look for the other
members of her party.
Leading little Louise into the large theatre, Blakeney pointed up to
the dim overhead candles and whispered in her ear in French. If
anyone saw him, they might think he was whispering a bed time story
in English, so soft was his voice. "You have been very good
tonight. Don't answer back unless its in English. Shhh. I just
wanted to let you know...." He wasn't sure exactly why he had felt
the need to say this, but it came out despite himself. "....I wanted
to let you know I am very proud of you."
Louise's eyes widened in surprise and pleasure--both at the compliment and
at her friend's reversion back into the man who had taken her to safety.
She gave one of her tentative smiles. "Thank you, sir," she answered
softly, in English.
The Englishman blinked back some buried emotion he had not expected
to surface at saying such a phrase to this child. Carrying her
around, he found himself humming an old tune and glancing over to
watch Marguerite and Helene still talking in the distance. He should
have expected as much, so he sat down in an empty patron theatre
seat. Looking at the child, he could see she was tired. Leaning
back into the seat, the tall Baronet offered the small little girl
his shoulder as some sort of pillow.
Louise felt herself becoming drowsy in the tall Baronet's arms. She trusted
this man absolutely, with the blind instinctive confidence of a child.
Eventually, she fell asleep against his shoulder, her little features peaceful and secure.
He glanced over to where the two women chattered together. Blakeney
couldn't hear them of course, and save the opening curtain through he
doorway, could barely make them out visually. He hummed along the
old nursery tune until he couldn't remember it anymore and sat in
silence for a moment.
Knowing plenty of songs to hum next, he reverted back to his old ways
and chose "God Save the King" more to keep himself awake this time.
The main belly of the theatre was dimming as candles were going out
here and there. His lazy lids reminded him that he would rather be
asleep than awake and he brought his hand up to yawn. The inner
theatre belly ceiling echoing it back down to him.
His body felt no adrenaline pumping to keep it awake nor did it feel
his muscles move. Soon, the body decided to exert its right to win
one over on the Baronet. Out of habit, with his head leaning far
back to rest on the upper rim of the seat, his breath drew softer.
The warmth of the little girl asleep against him sealed his fate.
Sir Percival Blakeney, Baronet, slipped into slumber, looking damn
uncomfortable in the seat. Nothing was further from the truth.
She suddenly spotted Percy in the theatre with the
little girl cuddling close in his arms. She motioned to Helene to give
her a moment as she went into the seats to Percy and Louise. Seeing her
husband holding the little girl warmed her heart. Seeing him briefly with
the little girl tonight, Marguerite couldn't help but to think that Percy
would make a wonderful father. Softly, Marguerite lowered herself into
the empty chair next to him. She gently stroked his hair and placed a
soft kiss on his temple before whispering his name in his ear and shaking
his arm to try and wake him.
Helene followed Marguerite into the now-deserted audience chamber of the
theatre. They found Sir Percy and Louise seated sound asleep, Louise's
golden curls resting against the Baronet's shoulder.
As Marguerite bent gently to wake her husband, Helene began to feel her
presence was a bit awkward, and quietly slipped back out to the lobby with
the intention of looking for Armand. The womanly visage of Marguerite's
features as she bent over her sleeping husband seemed to dwell in her mind.
To be in love like that! Adult woman though Helene was, the side of herself
she had shared with men had been relatively sheltered. The Frenchwoman was
not a cold girl, but she was intelligent and opinionated--two strikes
against her already. Any conversation she had seemed to be intimidating to
most men; those who did accept her--like Armand--tended to prefer friendship
to romantic involvement. Not that she had any feelings for Armand. But she
did admit it made her a trifle envious to see both him and Marguerite so
beautifully in love. The last year and a half had been lived underground,
unwilling to get close to anyone. Besides, most men seemed to pale in
comparison to her father and brother. She sighed. She would not dwell on
the subject--she never had. If it came to her, it would come, if not . . .
she could still lead a happy and full life. Especially with her new
position at the Blakeney’s'. She smiled at the thought.
Feeling gentle fingers warm his cheek, the sleeping Baronet leaned
his head over to meet them. He felt the kiss and then heard his
name in her voice. His Maeve was awakening him and with Louise's
warm little form pressed against him, he was most content. The arm
not wrapped around the girl was begin shaken, and the lazy blue eyes
slowly opened.
He blinked back the tiredness and glanced up at Marguerite and then
at the little girl asleep in his grasp. "What bloody time is it?"
His voice whispered.
"Just past midnight Percy," Marguerite whispered to him. She ran her small
fingers through a bit of hair just above his ear as she watched the little
girl asleep on his lap. "She's such a sweet little one isn't she
Percy?" Marguerite said referring to Louise, at the same time trying to get
a feeling for what Percy might think about the possibility of children in
their future.
He leaned his head into her fingertips as Lady Blakeney smoothed his
hair back into place. He slowly was waking up, blinking back the
tiredness that overcame him during his nap. Leave it to Blakeney to
take any opportunity to gather up his strength or catch up on his
sleep. His body was too accustomed to the sporadic and unreliable
schedule. His forever changing lack of routine. The body demanded
its rest when it was able.
Hearing Marguerite, he nodded in agreement about Louise but remained
quiet less he chance awakening the child. Had he known what she was
cooking up about him in that womanly and scheming mind of hers,
Blakeney would have quickly passed on Louise. In another lifetime,
the thoughts would have been flattering and exciting for the two
lovers. Not today.
Sitting up from the slouch he had slipped into, the Baronet looked at
Marguerite, leaning his head up and away from her. "Where is your
brother? Did you finish your conversation with Helen?" Sir Percy
whispered in the darkness and purposefully butchered Helene's name
with his British accent. Bringing his free hand about, his yawn was
covered and he stretched out his long lanky limbs before him. "I
suppose it is time to depart." He nearly asked it of his wife.
Marguerite kept her voice low to keep Louise from waking. "No doubt this
little one would be eager to get into her own bed for the night, although
she looks very comfortable right here. Perhaps we should leave you two in
the theatre to sleep and come get you in the morning."
Blakeney glanced up at Marguerite and raised a brow in the
darkness. "So eager to be rid of me my dear?" He questioned and
thought if it were only that easy.
"Of course not Percy." she whispered. "I told you once I wished I would
never have to leave your side, and I still wish for that."
Standing up now, he carefully
held the sleeping child against him with both his arms, for her body
was limp and no longer held fast to his neck. "I should think not."
He yawned again and strolled towards the doorway where there was
light. "Time to depart?"
Marguerite stood with him, hold out her arms just in case Louise were to
move or struggle in her sleep as Percy held her, but she was obviously a
very sound sleeper. "We should see them home Percy. I doubt Helene took
a carriage and she can't carry Louise home."
Seeing he reach for the child, he told himself to pass Louise over.
It was a womanly action and although he was more than comfortable
with the small little girl in his grasp again, he wondered if he
should indeed offer Marguerite to hold her.
Then again, Louise was not some small babe. She was a fully grown
child and was heavy. The gentleman in Blakeney won the battle and he
kept a hold of the girl. "But of course. Yes, we can do that." He
remained quiet. Thinking.
Marguerite walked with Percy, opening the door so he could concentrate on
holding onto the little girl. Once out in the near empty lobby,
Marguerite stood close once more to Percy, letting one hand gently slide
up to caress his back. Watching as Percy held onto Louise, Marguerite
couldn't help but to think about what Thomas had told her the night before
about his parents. She wondered if Percy's father ever held him like that
when he was a little boy, so carefully and lovingly.
He stood there and felt her touch him. A small bit of breath escaped
his lips. Oh for a time when her touch meant the world to him. Now
it was just a torturous memory to plague and laugh at him. Glancing
about, he looked for Helene and remained quiet in his already tired
state.
Marguerite, growing weary herself, moved to the side opposite of the side
holding little Louise. She rested her head on Percy's arm and began to
scan the lobby for the others in their threesome, although she was
enjoying the peacefulness of the moment.
Before a handful of moments had passed, Marguerite and Percy emerged into
the lobby, the latter cradling Louise in his strong arms. A minute later
Armand made his hasty appearance.
They stopped in the lobby for a moment. Armand bounded over to Marguerite
and Percy and said, grinning, "I'll be right back... I just want to..." He nodded towards Axelia, blushing. Armand walked Axelia to her door. The hadn't said a word, and Armand felt a little awkward trying to do so. At the door, he kissed her cheek lightly. "Good night, Axelia..." He whispered.
He walked into the lobby of the theatre and spied Percy and Marguerite right
away. Percy was cradling Louise in his arms; the little girl was fast asleep.
Marguerite's head was resting on Percy's shoulder, and he looked like he was
in pain. Odd.
He approached quietly. He smiled at the sight of Percy and Louise. He looked
comfortable with the girl curled up in his arms. It was Marguerite who was
disturbing him.
"What did I miss?" He asked softly, grinning.
The Baronet's lazy blue eyes glanced about, watching Armand scoot on
past with not even so much as the introduction Blakeney had been
waiting on for hours now. He shook his head and sighed again. So
much for that part of the equation.
When Armand returned, his face took on a tired scowl, and in between a
yawn, Sir Percy blundered, "And here I had thought you took on more
of a proper gentleman's qualities Armand. Not even introducing your
family to the lady. Absurd." His voice was not angry, just
irritated as he was tired. He knew he was irritated and rather than
have both Marguerite or Armand lay into him, he moved himself away
from the group and leaned against the wall. With little Louise in
his arms, he closed his eyes and rested his head.
"Well you just looked so tired, I thought it best to hurry along, Percy,"
Armand said, coolly. He wasn't bothered. "Speaking of which-" he yawned and
covered his mouth "When are we heading back?" Without thinking, he said, "Je
suis fatiguée."
He remained leaning against the wall as Armand spoke to Helene and
Marguerite. Ah, sleep. He just felt so tired tonight with his warm
little body still wrapped around him. His one goal for the theatre
evening was to somehow hook up with Helene and Louise and "meet their
acquaintances". Thanks to his wife taking a surprising lead, now it
appears that they would become a permanent part of the Blakeney
staff. Something that made Sir Percy smile, even as he leaned
against the inside theatre wall napping on and off. He patiently
waited for the women to finish up so they could leave.