Wedded Bliss/At the Blue Emerald

Here I am safe with him. Though I love France and support the ideals of the revolution, it is not safe for anyone there, not even republicans like myself and Armand. I know to well what can happen to people there, all too well I'm afraid. But now I am across the channel safe in England, with Armand as well, though I know he longs to return to France. I pray nightly he doesn't, I fear greatly for his safety.

As I look over the sea from the room at the estate where we are staying for a short honeymoon, I long silently for the home I left behind, but as I turn and watch my dear Percy, his breath slow and steady in sweet slumber, I now in a way I belong here.

Awareness slowly began to penetrate my senses as I felt the soft morning light shining on my face. Beautiful memories of the previous night flooded my mind, and I cautiously opened my eyes, suddenly all too aware that my right arm was no longer being pressed against the sheets with her slight weight, as it had been. *Where is she?* I thought, but it only lasted for the moment before I caught sight of her, still in her nightdress, looking out of the window.

It was a beautiful picture, and I dared not disturb her -- the pastel rays of dawn made a little halo around her hair, and her profile was illuminated in such a way that I was inadvertently put in mind of a divine being. It only lasted a short time, though, for I must have unknowingly made some sort of movement....

I turned my attention back to the rising sun over the peaceful sea until a slight shuffling behind me got my attention. I turned to see Percy just beginning to stir, sleep still in his eyes. I smiled as I stood up went back to our wedding bed, sliding gently onto the bed next to my beloved husband. I gently kissed him on his smooth cheek, "Good morning my love, have you slept well?"

Smiling and returning her affectionate kiss, I replied, "Never better, sweetheart. I'd ask you the same, but what a foolish question! In all the time I've known you, I've never seen you looking happier than you do right now. Tell me, my dear, is this Heaven?"

"I don't think even Heaven could compare to this." I smiled and pulled myself closer to him. Resting my head on his chest, I could hear his heartbeat. "I think I could exist happily just laying here for the rest of my life."

For a few minutes, Percy Blakeney and his new bride simply lay back in bed, her head resting on him as he absently stroked her hair. Completely contented, they kept silent as they both watched the sun rise higher over the horizon outside the window. However, a knock at the door startled them both out of their dreamy states: "Sir?" a tentative voice called from the other side. "Your carriage has come for you."

Percy couldn't stifle a laugh as he suddenly realized how late it must be. Marguerite sat up in bed as Percy pulled his dressing-gown closed around him and opened the door to greet the uniformed fellow on the other side. "Thank you, my good sir," said Percy to the boy in even tones, trying to sound unperturbed as he nonchalantly slipped him a coin for his trouble. "If you would, please tell the driver that we shall be another half an hour, and send him my apologies for keeping him." The boy nodded and left, as Percy closed the door behind him and turned back to Marguerite.

He smiled wryly at her. "It's amazing how the time goes, isn't it? I hardly feel that we've been here an entire week....

"Then let's not go." Marguerite said, with a playful begging smile, "We have no engagements this week. Let's stay here a little longer." Marguerite smiled at Percy. She wanted little more then to spend some time alone with him. The honeymoon had been so perfect it did seem too soon to end it.

With a smile in return, Percy leaned down to kiss her lightly on her forehead. "Would that 'twere possible, milady, but have you forgotten? We are to entertain my lord Tony at Richmond tomorrow! He, and perhaps some of our friends, are to spend the day with us so that I might introduce them to my exquisite French jewel...." Watching her face as he gently teased her, he moved away toward the bureau in the corner and began to ready for the trip home....

Marguerite laid on the bed and put on a sad little puss to hopefully get some sympathy from Percy, but he would only tease and she would eventually give in. She had forgotten that they were expected back in Richmond the next day. Actually, he was expected back, Marguerite had never been there. Marguerite continued to stretch out on the soft bed putting off getting up again for as long as she could.

It was nearing the end of the first day of the journey, and the road was not passing as quickly beneath them as Percy might have liked. In fact, it was nearing the hour of dusk, and Richmond was still a good ways away, at least. As he guided the horses around a tricky little bend in the road, Percy regarded his wife, who was nestled snugly in a corner of the carriage, out of the corner or his eye. "You seem quite fatigued from the day's trip, m'dear... what say you to a bit of respite? I know of an inn only a little ways down the road...."

Marguerite had come back to her senses at the sound of Percy's voice. She had just about drifted off to sleep in the carriage ride home to Richmond. It had grown dark and a cool chill was in the air. "Yes, perhaps that would be a good idea Percy. It has been a long journey, if we can make it back to Richmond in time to meet your guests tomorrow. Besides, you have ridden the horses hard today, no doubt they could use the rest." Marguerite pulled herself up and gave Percy a soft, tender kiss on his cheek and held herself closer to him ward off the chill.

Percy smiled in the darkness as her lips brushed his cheek, and he put all of the reins in one hand as he settled the other around her shoulders. "I daresay I could use the rest myself. But yes, we'll be back at Richmond in good time tomorrow, provided we can arise at the proper hour," he said with a little chuckle, as he drew the horses up in front of a nondescript building, above the door of which hung a large wooden sign advertising the "Blue Emerald."

"Here we are, m'dear... now, if I remember, the landlord here is a decent fellow, and he'll not hesitate to give us a room for the night. Ah look, here he comes now...."

Agent Chauvelin sat patiently in a corner, his back set rigidly against one of the cold stone walls of the inn's foyer. The bench he sat on was all that kept him from lapsing into a drowsy sort of boredom, and so he was pleased to no end to see Marguerite and her new companion enter. He wrapped his black, woolen scarf more closely about his throat, less against the cold than to thwart the dim lights -- it wouldn't do, of course, to have them find him too early. He would need to make note of the location of their room ...

He did hate to bother the poor woman so , but she needed to realize that marriage vows and a few miles of water were not enough to sever her from her ties of service to the Revolution. She had done a favor -- reluctantly -- but more was required. Chauvelin sat, watching, slightly smug, until he could safely follow the pair.

Percy led Marguerite into the warm foyer just inside the door, as the couple chatted lightheartedly with the little red-faced landlord. Out of the corner of his eye, though, Percy took note of an unmoving figure, entirely clad in black, sitting on the far side of the room. Knitting his brow ever so slightly, he decidedly set himself between the figure and his wife -- he did not know why, but the sight of the dark-clothed man had given him a bad feeling. And if there was something wrong, it was his duty to protect Marguerite from it; best to let her think that everything was alright.

Trying not to preoccupy himself too much with what might end up being nothing at all, he turned his attention back to the little landlord, who was rattling off a list of things he could do to make Sir Percy and Lady Blakeney as comfortable as possible. Percy interrupted him: "Yes, yes, my good Simon -- a bowl of soup for myself and my lady would be lovely. Have you a place where we might sit down?" Simon gestured profusely, and Percy followed him into the next room.

"I'll be in in a moment Percy." Marguerite said as Percy turned in the direction of the landlord. "I just wish to warm my hands a little more near the fire. I did not realize how much a chill there was outside and my fingers are a little stiff." she said as she continued to rub her hands in the heat of the glowing fire. As far as she knew, there was no need for Percy to stay, she had not taken any notice of anyone else in the inn that evening.

Thinking fast, Percy decided not to object -- if he did, she would know immediately that something was wrong. "Of course, m'dear," he said lightly, waving his hand in the direction of the fireplace, a few feet away from which sat the black-clad figure. "We shall be waiting in the next room." With that and only a cursory look around the place, he strode out after Simon.

As soon as Blakeney disappeared, Chauvelin stood quietly, and padded softly in his leather boots to stand behind Marguerite. His arms crossed casually across his chest, he flicked a stand of stray hair from his eyes. A small smirk twitched at the corners of his lips as he regarded her figure. He began quietly: "May I congratulate you, Madame, on this joyous occurrence?"

Marguerite swung around in shock, startled by the noise being that she thought she was alone, but that shock was nothing compared to the feelings she felt when she found the source of the voice. "Citizen Chauvelin," she gasped, "What are you doing here?"

Chauvelin allowed his restrained grin to take full reign of his face, as he stooped slightly to retrieve Marguerite's hand. He kissed it quickly, with a formal and mocking air, before continuing. "Why, I had no idea we were exchanging titles -- in that case, ~Lady ~Blakeney, think of it as a wedding gift." His smile turned sarcastic. "I am here, of course, to thank you for your generously given assistance in the St. Cyr matter. His case was completed, a day or two ago, my dear -- if you understand me -- and we have you to thank."

Marguerite forcefully pulled her hand away from Chauvelin's grasp. "I'd rather do without." Marguerite snapped before lowering her voice so that Percy and the innkeeper might not hear, "If I had it to do again I never would have told you anything. What that man did was wrong but did you have to sentence his wife and children to death as well. Those young children, how could they possibly have been guilty of anything."

Upon hearing the unfamiliar voice begin to converse with his wife, Percy spun around and began to push the door open -- then checked himself, realizing that it might be wiser for the moment not to let his presence be known. And when he heard the name "St. Cyr" mentioned, he was glad of his decision. What was this that the strange man was *thanking* her for? Unless...

Percy knew that his friend the Marquis had been in danger, but how could this have happened so fast? Only a week ago, he and Marguerite had been married in France. His brow knitted. *Marguerite...*

Was she really capable of such wickedness? Determined to find out for certain before he jumped to any conclusions, he strained to hear what was being said, but Marguerite had lowered her voice and he could no longer make anything out. Suddenly drained of all energy, he leaned wearily against a wall....

Chauvelin's features grew more serious, though he still seemed to be secretly ridiculing the woman in front of him. "And, as I would ask of any loyal citizen, I've come to request your help again."

Chauvelin felt his skin cool slowly, even in the midnight cold. He acknowledged Marguerite's singing gesture with a quick bow of his head, and then resumed, gazing thoughtfully into the fire. "Of course, how silly of me -- so far away from Paris, one quickly forgets the danger we face." He looked up at the taller woman, flame still glinting in his eyes. "The English air, I suppose."

"Perhaps you forget what it's like to be a child, to be innocent to know nothing of the world. How could children so young have done anything to stop the revolution?" Marguerite snapped back. Chauvelin knew full well her feelings for the revolution, and her feelings against unneeded killings.

"I know I needn't explain my reasoning to you, Madame. You think me heartless -- yes?" He gave a small, ironic smile. "How these things change ..."

"You must be mad. To think that I would ever have anything to do with you again." Marguerite thought to move but Chauvelin stood between herself and the doorway.

"We will see, I suppose." His voice rose to a conversational level, and again he smiled cordially. "But I wish to thank you, Madame -- you truly are too modest." With a smile that he had to force, he added: "Perhaps you'll introduce me to your husband? I've heard such ... wonderful things about him."

"My husband is a good man, to good to deal with the likes of someone like you. Now, if you had even the slightest bit of gentleman in you, you would leave Percy and I in peace, even if it means going back to France and your Revolution." Marguerite said with a slight, anger stamp of her foot. What she wanted to do was scream, but she wouldn't risk allowing Percy to know of Chauvelin and her past in France.

Chauvelin nodded, and wrapped the tails of his scarf back around his neck, having pulled them loose as he neared the hearth. "I thank you for your time, Lady Blakeney," he said, making no mention of her husband. "I will look forward to seeing you again, soon. Good evening." he gave another, deeper bow, turned on his heel, and silently stepped out of the fire's ring of light, into the night.

Marguerite bit her tongue to keep from saying anymore. She watched in silence as he exited. As soon as she was alone she dropped into a chair by the fire and felt an uncontrollable urge to cry, but she fought to hold the tears of anger back for fear Percy might find her in such a state. After a few moments she collected herself and entered the room where Percy and the innkeeper had disappeared to earlier.

As the door swung open, Percy forced himself to look as though he'd not heard any of the conversation that had just passed between Marguerite and the mysterious voice in the other room. His wife entered the room, her eyes rather downcast, and Percy found himself rather perplexed, wondering if she'd been crying, as he suspected. "Margot dear," he said, forcing as much warmth into his voice as he could muster, "are you quite alright?"

Marguerite looked at her husband and then quickly adverted her eyes away from him and began to fight back the tears again. She slowly nodded her head, "I shall be fine Percy, I suppose the long journey has just worn me out." Marguerite slowly crossed the room to an empty chain and sank down into it, keeping her eyes down, she couldn't bare to even look at Percy because of the shame she felt.

Dismounting, Lord Tony handed the bridle to the somewhat surprised man, giving him a kindly pat on the back. "My dear chap, how kind of you to wait up for me! Please just give my horse some hay and water. Its been a long trip, and some food and rest will do him good. Thanks much." He reached in his waistcoat and pressed a coin into the bewildered man's hand and walked to the door.

Chauvelin stood for a short moment, bridle in one hand and coin in the other, his mouth agape. The evening had been taxing enough without -- he disgustedly thrust the reigns back to the foolish Englishman, deliberately thickening his native accent as he spoke. "My ~dear Monsieur, I daresay you had better take care of your own animals. The gods know there are enough of them inside!" He stormed off, his patience effectively drained for the day.

Lord Tony followed Chauvelin's dark figure with a curious look as he walked away. "What a strange man. I wonder why that revolution of his didn’t claim a life worthy of it." With a careless shrug of his shoulders, Tony turned and lead his horse to the stable taking great care so as not to hurt the animal.

Wondering whether or not to point out that her eyes were red-rimmed, Percy hesitantly started to follow her across the room. But he stopped when the door creaked open once again and a familiar face appeared behind it. "Why Tony!" exclaimed Percy. "Why, I didn't know that you meant to meet us here, old chap!"

Glad to see that people were still awake, Tony stepped fully into the room, eyes dancing. He bowed to Marguerite, removing his hat and cloak, then made his way across the room to greet Percy. "Well, I thought I was enjoying the ride so thoroughly, it became later than I thought, and figured I'd find you two here. Guess I was right! How's everything going you two?" Tony gave Marguerite a quick wink to show his good humor.

Percy did not look back at Marguerite, for fear that her reaction might leave him feeling even more needless guilt for her sake than he already did. Instead, he stepped forward to shake Tony heartily by the hand and pretend that everything was fine. "Well, you thought right, my friend. As you may have guessed, we are terribly fatigued from the ride and are here only to rest ourselves and the horses for the night. As a matter of fact, we are just about to indulge ourselves in a bowl of soup, if Simon ever thinks to deliver it. Won't you join us?"

"Actually Percy, I'm very tired from the journey. I hate to miss out on becoming acquainted with your friend, but I think it would be best for me to retire for the night. Would you me to our room." Marguerite said. She had too much on her mind right now to deal with anything else, but she was still fighting inside on whether or not to tell Percy about Chauvelin.

"Of course, milady," Percy said cordially, and began to take her arm, when he realized that Tony had answered at the same time.

With a furtive glance at Percy, Tony turned back to Marguerite. "Good night, Lady Blakeney" giving a slight bow, "and I hope you will forgive me.. I wish to steal Percy for a short while, for we have many things to catch up on."

"Presently we shall speak, m'dear Tony... but I must see the lady upstairs first. I don't want anyone stealing my little wife while I look away, now do I?" he said with a forced chuckle, smiling at Marguerite as if everything was fine. "Come, milady, shall we?" And as Marguerite laced her arm through her husband's, they started up the stairs.

Marguerite kept her head down, her thoughts far from the Blue Emerald, going over her discussion with Chauvelin over and over again in her head, but something strange hit her as she and Percy reached their room. She realize Percy's stance and his walk was more ridged then usual, and his laugh with Tony just didn't seem right. "Percy, is everything alright?"

Percy looked sharply over at his wife, wondering exactly how he'd betrayed his conflicting thoughts. He stopped in front of the room they'd been given, but did not open the door. "Of course, m'dear, I'm quite alright... but I might ask you the same question. Is something troubling you?"

Marguerite looked down to avoid looking into Percy’s eyes, "It's just, well you see, that man, he . . . " her voice trailed off as she debated whether or not to tell her husband about Chauvelin, and about her past. What would Percy think if he knew she was the reason several innocent children had been murdered. She couldn't bare to admit it to herself, much less to Percy. She finally gained the courage to look back at her husband, "I am just tired from the ride today, I will be better in the morning."

*She's hiding it from me,* he thought earnestly. *One more thing that points to her guilt... but how can it possibly be?* "Tired, m'dear? Yes, I am as well. But I confess, when I left you in the foyer, I did hear voices speaking, though I... could not decipher what it was that was said. Was that you, dear? -- did you encounter someone that you knew?"

"You mean the man down there?" Marguerite wondered how much exactly Percy had heard of her conversation with Chauvelin. "He thought I was a friend or acquaintance of his, but he was mistaken." Marguerite again debated telling Percy, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She stepped closer to Percy and put her arms through his and rested her head on his shoulder, silently trying to choc back a few tears.

Percy did not resist as his wife nestled close against him, as they so often did now. But even so, he only held her loosely, absently, as his mind reeled with Marguerite's denial of everything that had just passed. After all, if she was innocent of this crime as he so wanted to believe, would she not tell him the truth of the matter and explain the fault in his reasoning that led him to believe in her guilt? He felt his throat close at the thought of not only the horrific thing that had happened, but the fact that his own wife may have been a key player in those events. "Marguerite," he said lowly, at a loss for anything else to say that might make her reveal the truth, "are you certain that you're alright?"

"That man just gave me a bit of a fright, but he's gone now, it's all over." Marguerite looked up into Percy's eyes, although in the dim hallway she could barely see into them, "A good night of rest and I'll be fine. Are you cross that I am not staying p to meet your friend?"

Avoiding her gaze, Percy let his arms fall away from her as he leaned over to give her a quick peck on the forehead. "No, dear, I'm not cross," he said in low tones. "You'd best get some sleep if you're that tired. I'll see you in the morning, yes?" he said with some effort at a smile, all the while thinking, *She's right, you know... it's all over.*

Marguerite yawned as she nodded and gently pulled away from Percy and entered their room. Once inside she wearily changed out of her dress and into her sleeping gown and laid down in the bed, but as tired as she was, she could not fall asleep. Marguerite tossed and turned for what seemed like ages, but could never fall asleep. The events of that night kept replaying themselves again and again in her head. She began to anxiously await for Percy to come to bed so that she might speak to him. At this point, she was so tired and weary, it would be hard to fight the urge to tell him everything, no matter what she thought he might think of her afterwards. Marguerite tossed and turned and waited, but Percy never came, or perhaps after all that she was finally able to just fall asleep.

As Percy watched vaguely as Marguerite shut the door behind her, he had half a mind to go in after her, simply ask her to explain what he'd heard, and then hear a reasonably uncondemning explanation. But what if she couldn't provide one that was not incriminating? Was it best not to know? He lowered his head, weary with indecision.

Back