Chapter
7:
'Til I Hold You
Again
"Good God Percy, it must have cost you a fortune!" Armand
exclaimed as the diamond's reflection glittered onto his face.
I hushed him quickly as I took it back and admired it myself.
Three weeks had gone by since I had started my resting in Paris, and
I had decided over the course of time that after my leg had healed,
leaving would have been too much of a torment, especially when it
meant abandoning my precious Marguerite. I for one realized that our
hearts had loved far too intensely to let the other go, and with that
in mind, and after much consideration, I determined that there was
nothing else to be done except propose matrimony. Thus, while both
the sister and brother were gone for the day, I had rushed all over
Paris to find only the finest of rings and prepare myself to ask for
my lady's hand the next night. We had all been invited to a ball at
the Palais de Justice, and I figured the task could have been done
there.
Well the time had finally come and my nerves continued to increase
as Armand and I waited in the hall for the women to join us. I of
course was to be with Marguerite while Armand had his own companion,
one Louise Lange of the Comedie Francaise and Marguerite's
understudy. The girl was a rather pretty young thing, and I always
found it humorous to watch Armand fawn over her like a little lap
dog. But then who was I to speak when I was the same way with his
sister?
After quite some time, our patience was growing short and Armand
shouted up the stairs for the ladies to hurry.
"Why is it that women must always take so long to adjust every bit
of cloth they put on?" he asked shaking his head in frustration.
"Odd's fish, Armand, I have learned that to be one of the many
mysteries of the world," I replied in a mirthful tone. "But look at
it this way. The longer they take, the more our eyes receive their
pleasure."
He joined in the laughter after a few moments and then averted his
eyes to the stairwell as his feet pulled him in the direction of his
lovely partner for the evening. Having complimented her and making
his usual endearments, Armand brought Louise over to where we had
been standing alone.
"Ma cherie, you do remember Sir Percy Blakeney, yes?" he asked
ready to give any needed introductions.
The girl smiled politely. "Of course I do; I only hope he
remembers me."
Taking her hand, I kissed it considerately. "Citizeness, I could
never forget a pretty face such as your own, and besides I believe
your young beau here would have beaten me if I did not."
After a small round of giggling, Armand looked at the clock and
groaned. "Where is that sister of mine? I daresay that she seems to
love taking whatever sweet time she can take advantage of."
"So little patience for such a big mouth," that familiar voice
came from the top of the stairs and we turned in its direction.
Gliding elegantly down to us in all her glory was Marguerite
herself. Her golden dress enveloping her entire figure and her hair
done up fashionably, the beauty kept inside for occasions like this
seemed to pour out, and I allowed my eyes to drink in every inch of
the vision they adored. As my senses returned, I tried to force my
planted feet to move towards her, and when they finally did bring me
to the bottom step, Marguerite and I simply held each other's
gaze.
Armand and Louise had apparently left the room for I no longer
felt their presence behind me, but I did not care. At first I only
brought Marguerite's hands to my lips, but afterwards, she lifted my
head and pressed her mouth to mine. I allowed myself a small sigh of
pleasure and then aware how easily it would have been to lose myself
in the moment, I pulled away holding her by the waist.
She smirked teasingly. "I guess what you mean to say was that you
do not want to be late?"
"La, sweetheart am I really that predictable?" I asked cupping her
face in my hand. "But you are correct with that theory. Lud but I can
see it now: 'Pair of lovebirds late to a party due to an
uncontrollable lip-lock'."
She laughed a bit before finally giving into my persuasion to
leave, and taking my arm into her grip, we walked to the carriage to
join Armand and Louise. Tonight must be the night! I thought to
myself as I fingered the small piece of gold in my coat pocket, and
although Marguerite, having noticed my tension, had rubbed my arm
soothingly, I felt anything but calm as the carriage drove on into
the night.
* * * * *
The evening was undoubtedly going to be interesting. Aside from my
planned proposal to Marguerite, the other guests present were all
Frenchmen and their ladies; thus I stood out in a tough crowd.
Luckily I had the good opinion of the most highly respected
citizeness of the land, but even that did not help.
As soon as people caught sight of my entrance with Marguerite,
chatter and gossip immediately broke loose. To them, I was not only
an aristo, France's most hated social class, but also from England,
France's most hated enemy. Sink me if the combinations could get any
better! I thought with complete sarcasm.
Nevertheless, it did not matter. Nothing else did except
Marguerite being there at my arm. Side by side we stayed through
every dance, conversation, and…well everything! Every gendarme
and government employee there would not have been able to separate
us.
However, that is not to say that I did not give her some time to
do as she pleased; I could not hold on to her delicate hand for the
whole nightlong. After a while a small group of her friends had
called her over to talk on their own, and I simply stood out of the
way, trying to enjoy any sight that attempted to overpower my love.
That is when the trouble started.
Walking up to me was our friend from the café, Citizen Paul
Chauvelin, and seeming one to be convient, he stood right beside me
watching Marguerite as I was. Looking over at him quickly I saw that
he was still the complete contrast of myself, clad in black without
the slightest hint of a smile or cheerful thoughts.
As if I had suddenly noticed him, I looked through my eyeglass,
exclaiming in my signature flippancy, "Ah monsor I remember you!"
(Believe me, I am not as stupid as I appear, but what else should I
appear to be in order to hide the secret of the Scarlet Pimpernel?)
"You are that fine chap that citizeness St Just and I had
met…three weeks ago I believe! Oh how time flies these days,
don't you agree?"
Lud love me, but I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing at
the expression he had given me! Not even my entire fortune could have
paid to see that look of complete annoyance!
Smiling sarcastically, he answered, "Yes Sir Percy, it does seem
like a long time which is fortunate for the both of us."
In more ways than one. "Ah well, I trust that you are doing
well?"
"Most definitely, monsieur, as you yourself appear to be the same,
but then Marguerite does have the ability and talent to make a man
spellbound, yes?"
At this my attentions turned to the lady in question. As she
caught sight of my gaze, she responded by blowing me a kiss to which
I "caught" on my fingers and pressed it to my lips. Not averting my
eyes, I replied, "She most certainly does, and that is why I have
every intention of making her my wife."
As I finally glanced upon the man, his face became twisted between
envy and the need to hide it. "You want to marry Marguerite St Just,
monsieur?"
"More so than any other titled woman my native country would
offer."
"Oh that is most unbearable thing I have ever heard," he said
shaking his head in what seemed like mock pity.
"Why is that citizen?" I asked returning to the role of a dandy.
"Were you thinking the same thing?"
"Well yes, but I would want her to be happy also…although I
do not know how she could be if she married you."
I felt my expression grow genuinely shocked, for that remark was
certainly unexpected. "My dear fellow, I do not understand what you
mean. You may approach the lady herself and she will tell you how
happy the both of us are. I love her very much and would not even
dream of making her miserable."
"Oh I had no doubt of that Sir Percy!" he exclaimed, the scoffing
tone still shining through the phony concern.
"Then pray tell, citizen, what you mean to say."
"Sir Percy, it is quite obvious that you would want only the best
for France's favorite daughter, but that is exactly what she is, a
child of this country. She was born and raised here her entire life
by the blood of a plebian family, but you on the other hand are quite
different."
"Keep going, you have my fullest attention."
"Milord, you are an aristocratic Englishman. You were born into a
life of luxuries and no doubt all that you have will belong to
Marguerite as well. But that alone can not make her happy."
I really was not sure of what to say to this. What did this man
think he was doing? "Citizen, may you please state your purpose for
this conversation? I can not wait a moment more if I am to ask
Marguerite for her hand, for my nerves are building by the
minute."
Smiling in that evil victorious sort of way, Chauvelin went in for
his kill. "The life you live Sir Percy is not one that accepts people
easily. Marguerite St Just to your society is completely nothing! In
their eyes, she is a commoner, a Republican, an actress, and worst of
all, French. Their kindness, if they have any inside them, will be
completely false but nonetheless will have to be shared since she
would be Lady Blakeney, the wife of the richest man of their
exclusive circle. Marguerite could never be happy there."
Why was my light of hope growing dimmer and the heart I had
nurtured with love shattering? "Thus what you are saying is that no
matter how much I try to make Marguerite happy, she never will be
because of society's opinion?"
"Precisely so, milord."
I could not believe the things I was hearing, but in a strange
way…he seemed to make sense. How could Marguerite be happy
amongst people who would have hated her? How could I be able to watch
her waste away in grief and only because my selfishness would have
caused me to keep her there?
Excusing myself from Chauvelin, I walked outside to the steps of
the Palais, and there I sat to think matters over. Having taken the
ring out of its box, I fingered it in the most confused state I have
ever been in since the day I first saw Marguerite herself. I loved
her far beyond any mortal's understanding; of that I was more than
certain. But to take this innocent, loving woman away from her native
country, bloody and wretched as it was, to a place that would never
be her home would be greedy. Thus the only thing to do was…
"Percy? Are you well?" I heard Marguerite ask from the doorframe.
Hastily I shoved the ring back into my pocket as I bolted to my feet,
groaning at my leg's lingering pain and watching Marguerite rush to
my aid. "Percy don't!"
"It is all right, my sweetness," I replied reassuringly holding
her by the waist and kissing her cheek. "You have known since we met
that I could never stay sitting when you are with me."
Having sat me down and placing herself at my side, she began to
rub my arm and rested her head against my shoulder. "Armand had told
me that you may have wanted to see me. Is there something wrong?"
"W-w-wrong?" I stuttered slowly. Oh God what was I to do? I could
not ask her to marry me now! "What could possibly be wrong,
sweetheart?"
Her reply came in the form of a knowing look followed of course by
the want of an explanation. "Percy, do you not trust me? You can tell
me anything, mon cher, you know that."
I was about to respond when suddenly we heard a very slow song
beginning inside, and due to it being a peculiar tempo, Marguerite
and I looked at each other not knowing what to think about it.
"The song seems too slow for a waltz, hence how could one dance to
it?" she asked curiously.
Leave it to my brilliant ideas to come along at the right time.
"There might be a way; come here," I instructed rising from my place
on the step and pulling her up into my arms. Wrapping my arm
completely around her waist, I placed her own onto my shoulder as our
bodies slowly pressed so close together that I swore I could
literally feel the pounding of her racing heart. Then I covered her
wee hand in my own monstrous one and held it to my other shoulder.
Luckily while I tried to contemplate a rhythm that would go along
with the music, my feet had already lead her in small steps moving
around in an apparent circle.
By God how I loved her, and the more I strayed upon that thought,
the more it hurt to have to leave her. Yes that was the only thing to
do after tonight. I could not confront this woman any more if I were
to make her my wife, and as she rested her beautiful head against my
chest, I buried my tearstained face into her reddish curls, kissing
them softly.
* * * * *
My beloved Marguerite,
I do not know where to begin as I say my farewells through this
simple note that will no doubt become part of the fire soon enough.
My darling, I pray that you shall understand all that has occurred by
now with an open heart, and with your kindness I have no doubt that
after the wound heals you possibly will.
Marguerite, the both of us know that I love you more than any
mortal can comprehend, thus I feel this to be the only means to give
you joy. The last thing I want to see is the lady of my dreams with
tears in her eyes, and were I to bring you with me, that is exactly
what would happen. The contemptible aristocracy I was brought into by
birth would not be at ease with such a wonderful yet different woman
like you entering their world, and because I love you, I want to
protect you from their cruelty and prejudices.
And so, in a state of heartache, I leave you in the safety of
your brother's hands where you belong. I have always loved you,
Marguerite, and never shall I release those feelings from my heart.
Thus until I may hold you in my arms again, you shall henceforth
remain my one and only.
Your own,
Percy
Sealing it with a kiss, I slipped the note under Marguerite's
pillow, and remained beside my sleeping beauty for a few longing
moments. In a bold action, I gathered and cradled her tenderly in my
arms, and fortunately she did not wake up. Instead she smiled and
nestled cozily against me, and it took every ounce of strength I had
in order not to let tears flow free from my eyes.
Nevertheless, I knew I had to do what had to be done, for if I did
not leave then, I never would. And with that despicable knowledge on
my mind, I rested Marguerite back onto her pillow, covered her in the
warm blankets, and having placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, I
gathered my luggage and rushed to the awaiting carriage. The
traveling torture chamber could only speed on into the darkness,
dragging me back to the Blakeney prison, and my one purpose for
living slowly becoming but a dream from some deep corner of my mind.
Never in a lifetime have I felt so lost, so alone.