Chapter
11:
The Fool Who Dared to
Love
The sun once again had its pleasure of seeing me in agony as I
awoke the next morning sleepy and dazed. My God, if I had known how
tired a woman could leave a man after a night of passion and
intimacy, then I would have certainly waited until the oncoming night
ahead instead of the one Marguerite and I had just shared. But time
can not be erased, I knew, and the results had to occur, leaving me
feeling as if I had spent the night on a bottle of brandy.
On the other hand, I did not regret a moment of it, and with a
smile forming quickly at the memories, I opened my eyes…to find
Marguerite gone. In her place was a scrap of paper with the following
scratched out:
My only,
Do not worry at the sight of this note. I have not left you; I
never could…especially after last night. However a small detail
that must be carried out before this afternoon has called me away
from you for a little while. Armand and Louise are coming and I do
not want to leave them waiting. I shall return soon enough.
"I know you will, my sweet," I said lovingly kissing the paper in
Marguerite's absence and longing the sweet taste of her mouth against
my own.
* * * * *
Sally and I had spent the whole morning together searching
different shops to find Marguerite a dress. I wanted my last carefree
day to be a special one together with her since afterwards Marguerite
would be mine and commitment required me to settle down. But although
there was not one objection to that, for I would have given up
anything for my wife, that thought did leave me thinking.
What would happen to the Scarlet Pimpernel once he married? I knew
that Marguerite would have to know sooner or later, for I did not
intend on keeping anything from her. However, how would not only she
react to it, but also the league? I had told them from the very
beginning not to say a word of it to anyone despite who they were;
did that mean if I were to tell her it would be hypocrisy? Oh well
maybe a few rules could be slightly changed here and there, I thought
with a shrug of my shoulders, not taking the idea to heart. My nerves
were rushing rapidly through me after all, and everything else could
be resolved over time. I had a wedding to get through, and I would
not allow it be ruined by something as silly as cold feet.
* * * * *
If I were to have smiled any broader, then my face would have
surely been seriously injured. The sight of Marguerite before me had
never been more wonderful than it was at that moment in time. Her
white dress reflected so much light that it seemed to glisten and
glow, and the flowers and lace adorning her hair added to her bridal
beauty. If there was any time that I doubted her becoming any more
lovely, it was certainly forgotten that day.
Nervously but eagerly, we had managed to do what we were told to
do. I saw nothing but joy come from her eyes during the entire time
as we professed and vowed the love we had for each other, and as I
slid the ring onto her finger, I knew for certain that I had made the
correct choice for my lifetime partner.
After what had seemed an eternity, we had finally been allowed to
prove all my thoughts to the world by our first kiss as a married
pair, and then the festivities began. While the guests danced and
chatted the day away, neither Marguerite or I ever left the other's
side, and for a short while I believed that to be mortally impossible
until every man there had entreated me for their chance to dance with
the bride. Unfortunately, I had to admit that my heart was being too
kind and generous that day making it inhuman to refuse them.
As I stared at my wife from my place in the room, so many
remembrances returned to my mind from their place in my heart.
Marguerite and I had come a long way to this from a simple portrait
to a courtship outing on Notre Dame, her surprise arrival in England,
and at the end our wedding dreams coming true. From then through
eternity, we could face the world as we pleased with nothing to tell
us otherwise. The Lord certainly does work in mysterious ways! I
concluded with a smile.
However my thoughts were interrupted as I felt someone's presence
beside me. Turning around, I gleefully found Tony just about to tap
my shoulder.
"Sink me your head's backside must have eyes, Percy!" he said with
a jovially laugh although I detected a hint of sadness in his voice.
Despite that I let him continue. "But all kidding aside, from the
view we have, your new bride seems very lovely indeed."
Nodding, I looked back to Marguerite. "Tony, I could not agree
more; you have taken the words right out of my mouth."
"To think that after such a short courtship as well…" he
added enforcing the term 'short'.
"All right, father, what are you hinting at?" I replied with a
laugh.
"And her name was originally Marguerite St Just, was it not?" he
answered completely ignoring my question.
"Yes it was," I began slowly before I realized the woeful look he
gave me. Suspiciously, I continued. "Tony, what is wrong with that?
When you stare at her, you seem as though you are glaring at a
criminal."
"Percy, come with me; I must speak with you this instant even if I
am too late."
Not wanting to frighten anyone with my sudden change of mood, I
followed him reluctantly to the study. Once there, I closed and
bolted the door to assure the fact that we were alone.
"All right Tony you have the private setting that I know you
wished to have. Now I demand an explanation to this mad questioning
about Marguerite as if she were a convict." I nearly shouted
angrily.
"Percy, you have always been like a brother to me, you know
that…"
"Do not stall! I want to hear your answer now," I interrupted
impatiently.
"You want your answers?" he replied grimly. "Fine then, you shall
receive them. I have succeeded in finding St Cyr's arrest warrant as
you, my leader, have commanded me to. I alone know who it was that
had him charged and killed, but since you want these answers that you
entreat of me, you shall know who the culprit was as well."
"Tony what are God's green earth are you trying to say?"
Looking at me with his eyes screaming pity, he replied, "Percy, St
Cyr's denouncer was…your wife, Marguerite St Just!"
* * * * *
Rain poured down heavily from outside the study window as I sat on
my armchair trying to comprehend what had gone from the most glorious
day of my life to an eternally living hell. Marguerite, a murderer?
The idea was too preposterous to be the truth; she was completely
against all of the lunacy her country was in using the name of
liberty in attempt to hide it! Although, she had never actually
admitted to any displeasure, and Tony would never falsify any reports
or play a prank that was so cruel.
"Oh God grant me light to understand all of this!" I prayed in the
most controversial state I had ever been in. "Help me see the truth!
Is everything that I have ever loved a lie?"
"Percy? What is wrong?" I heard Marguerite ask from behind me.
"The celebration has been long since over by now, and we had wondered
what happened to you."
Standing up I turned to look at her as I finally decided that this
was pure torture at its best. The beautiful woman still stood before
me, obviously prepared for her wedding night by the way she was
dressed, but the kind light of her heart seemed to have dimmed.
"I apologize, Marguerite; I had not realized the time," I replied
with such a heartless tone that even I was shocked.
Marguerite slightly cowered with sudden fear that she made an
effort to hide. "Percy, are you unwell? You are not acting like your
usual self."
"That makes us even then does it not? You are such a damn
remarkable actress after all."
Beginning to match my angered glare, she persisted defensively,
"Percy what is wrong with you? What have I done to deserve your cold
words?"
My heart ached as it tried to force a request of pardon through my
mouth, but I swallowed it without hesitation. "Marguerite, I want an
explanation to news that I have received concerning you."
"Concerning me?"
"That is correct. Did you or did you not denounce the Marquis de
St Cyr and his family to the tribunal?"
After a small pause of tension, her kindness had given way to
bitterness. "What would that have to do with you?"
"Answer me, Marguerite! Is that the truth?"
"I need not confirm or deny such accusations; you are not my
judge!"
"I will not back down, madam. I asked you a question and I expect
it to be answered before this conversation is complete!" I shouted
enraged at her refusal to respond.
"Fine then, milord!" she screamed, her volume and anger overriding
the woman I thought her to be. "I certainly did denounce them as you
accuse me of doing!" By now, tears rolled from her eyes faster than
the heads to Madame Guillotine, and even though I wanted to comfort
them, my mind's pride had at long last overruled my heart's love.
However, she continued, sobbing, "Obviously, your love and chivalry
was simply a charade that you had used to mask any hatred that you
must have had me instead. Your little wife is like every other woman
now, milord; placed aside in the prison of life while you indulge in
the manly victory of the prize you claimed!"
As she began to storm out of the room, I followed her frightened
that I may have lost her forever. "Where are you going,
Marguerite?"
"To find Armand's lodgings!" she answered not knowing which to do
more, yell or cry. "At least there I shall find someone who still has
the ability to love me! Good evening, Sir Percy! Our wedding day was
enjoyable while it lasted! I shall possibly return in the morning,
although I do not know why I should!" And with that she slammed the
massive door behind her, with only the rain for an escort.
Good Lord what have I done? How could you allow me to love like
this? What am I to do? I wondered, sinking to my knees and debating
on where the storm was falling more, inside or out. I knew for sure
that I had only been a fool for that is what love created: complete
fools…but then why did I feel so much grief?