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Post by LADY MARGUERITE BLAKENEY on Aug 31, 2015 14:32:55 GMT
 I swear I hate you when you leave In some ways Marguerite found her love of the outdoors strange, logically she understood that it was a ghostly remnant of happier times spent on the farm with her parents and brother. However their memory filled her with more pain then warmth. Surely the outdoors should do the same? All her current happy memories were indoors with Percy or Armand, surrounded by the swell of music and the sparkle of candlelight against glass. Even the solitude of the morning light and warmly whispered words that lead to too loud giggles and sultry smirks filled her with joy, so why was she not escaping to her room or the ballroom? Soaking up the allure of the memories those rooms provided. Instead she was lying here underneath the largest tree in the garden watching the leaves sway like a child or a youngster in her first flush of love. At her age she probably looked more like a common harlot, but she chased that thought from her mind with a sulky grumble. Her hair was down in a tumble of wild curls that she could already feel tangling in the dropped twigs and for a moment she allowed that foreshadowed pain to keep her down there justified in not getting up. Her toes, exposed by long since discarded shoes, were tickled by a small breeze and a breathy giggle crossed her lips as she wiggled them in futile hopes of escaping the air around her.
Thoughts of the world around her and her own state could only chase away the more pressing ones that had chased her for years. It was something that in many ways had never annoyed her; as a young girl she had Armand, as a woman she was too busy with the stage, as a wife she feared for her loveless marriage but as these fears faded the gap was filled with a more quite fear. One she could chase away with excuses for as long as necessary, but in the moments like this or the gaps before sleep it crept back in stubbornly determined that she should pay heed to it. It had plagued her last night creeping in just before she could sleep to steal her peaceful sleeping hours away in a mass of tossing and turning. When the servants were awake and the house filled with the noises of the day she could ignore it no longer and quickly awoke pulled on a common dress and shoes before heading outside for a walk. The walk had found her staring at the slow movements of the leaves, which had made her neck hurt so she had chanced a sit down until she was here without any real choice in the matter. Which perhaps was part of the problem, no choice. It wasn't like she could order her body to give her what she wanted, that wasn't how the world worked, light prayers to a God she was steadily growing more annoyed with did nothing either. So here she remained in a warm loving marriage perfect to raise a child........and no child to raise. It was slowly becoming apparent to others around her too. Younger girls in the first flush of wedlock proudly displayed ever changing figures and looked at her with pity when she congratulated them. She didn't even think they were aware they did it and no cruelty lay in their hearts, but when they turned to her their eyes lost the sparkle within their depths and the subject was carried briefly for politeness's sake before being changed with ease.
Some part of her understood that this was no time for a child. There was trouble in France and soon Percy would have to leave to aid those in need. That was no climate to raise a child. Where she could show him nothing of his heritage only tell him stories and raise him without a father present. It was unimaginable, but she ached with the longing. Raising Armand had been like the taste of a forbidden fruit, close but not wholly hers. The house was two quiet, she wanted to hear to cries of a baby, the gurgles of happiness and later the yells of play. She wanted to scoop a child up in her arms and press kisses all over a tiny cherub face that reminded her so of the man she loved, to hold a tiny hand as it explored the world for the first time and learned something new in every glance. Her heart ached and she lightly pressed a hand over it, closing her eyes briefly before letting them open slowly. She would write again to Armand after breakfast, beg him to visit, she needed him now more than ever.
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Post by SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY on Sept 1, 2015 18:03:47 GMT
 Let us ride, let us ride home again with a story to tell
Into darkness, into danger
Into storms that rip the night
Don't give in, but give up
But give thanks for the glorious fight
. An Englishman's horse was a very important creature, one had to care for it greatly and then the rewards would indeed be generous. This particular steed was a magnificant one, the creature had a strong set of legs that had saved him on countless occasions from being caught by the French guard. Those damn Frenchies had no idea how to care for a horse, they saddled them up, chaining the poor creatures with harsh bits - no wonder the animals were outrun by his Noble British steeds. Percy had been excerising his favourite horse around the manors grounds, it was at these times, he did his best thinking. It wasn't news to Percy that things were getting worse in France, there were murmurings among the league and he had received several disturbing letters about events that were occurring just outside of Paris's walls.
Percy was almost certain the Pimpernel would ride again. It sent a thrill through his very core to know that he would soon be confounding Frenchies once more! Percy pulled the horse to a halt as he arrived at the manors front steps, two stables boys quickly met him as he dismounted the horse, patting it gently he handed the reins over to the boys. 'Sir Percy...' the familiar voice of his Butler met him and Percy turned his blue eyes upon the man. He was most trusted in his household, knowing many of Percy's secrets and never once uttering a word. 'Nothing to report Higgins' Percy responded, removing his riding gloves and handing them to the man, 'Lady Blakeney?' he asked as he began to make his way up the stone steps that led to the entrance hall of the house.
'Err Lady Blakeney left for her morning walk about an hour ago, Sir, she has yet to turn...'
Percy paused, turning to scan the large gardens for any sign of his wife. 'Thank You Higgins' Percy replied, changing his course towards the lavish gardens. Where the devil could she be?
That's when he saw her, his French wife lying beneath one of the more grander trees, her hair flowing loosely down and her shoes kicked off beside her. His lips curled into a smug smile as he made his way towards her. After all this time Percy still loved his wife as much as he did the first time her saw her, if even she did drive him to distraction with her demmed Frenchie ways. Percy wasn't blind to his wife's troubles, he could see the pain behind her eyes after every month passed, every year passed and they still remained without a child. He couldn't say he wasn't disappointed, he longed to see her with child, but as time passed he couldn't help but think that dream was long gone.
He didn't know how she would react to his news. He would be returning to France on official league business and would be away for sometime.
'Melady have you lost all propriety?' he jested as he neared her, 'I'm away for a few hours and I come back to this! Sink me! What will the servants say? Its frightfully unfashionable to be caught at ones leisure.' he mused, standing over her with a bright twinkle in his eyes.
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Post by LADY MARGUERITE BLAKENEY on Sept 1, 2015 21:51:44 GMT
i swear i hate you when you leave Despite her fears the gentle swish of the leaves and the tree tops was too soothing for the sleepless Margot, and almost as if letting the thoughts process had forced them to run their course they cleared from her mind. Margot imagined them like the seeds on the breeze floating away to bear fruit and then hated her mind for seemingly wishing those fears on anyone else. Her eyes fluttered closed and though she tried to fight it and urged herself to sit up and continue on with her day the darkness of sleep enveloped her and she drifted off.
......propriety?
Margot was later awakened by a voice and to her annoyance it was a voice far to soothing to jolt her into wakefulness in time to hear the entire sentence, or at least what she could assume had been a full sentence. Instead she drifted to a state of vague alertness and listened as his following words clarified the former words intent.
'I'm away for a few hours and I come back to this! Sink me! What will the serpents say? Its frightfully unfashionable to be caught at ones leisure.'
A laugh burbled up from her lips as her eyes fluttered to rest on her beloved Percy. The brightness of the area caught her eyes and she closed them again briefly against the glare as she spoke. "Propriety sir? I know not of it since I married my Husband. Have you met him? I must admit, in the strictest confidence of course, he's a dreadful fop." She stated affecting a serious tone, though she could barely contain her laughter. Margot moved to sit up and winced as the twigs caught in her hair. She pulled it lightly over her right shoulder and began to tease the twigs from it with the gentle motions of hands far too used to the task. I’m sure my good Sir that even you have abandoned propriety in your lifetime, have I not heard rumours that you married a common actress? She teased. With the twigs finally cleared she tossed them to the side and pulled her legs in at the side of her. Extending a single hand to Percy she graced him with a simmering stare "Can I not tempt you to impropriety Good Sir? I've been told I have a face that has tempted men to do worse, so I am sure even the nosiest of servants will understand."
It was odd she mused how just seeing Percy’s face could settle any fears she had. She knew without question that she would endure countless barbs to stay beside him till her death, and oddly enough thoughts of him settled the worries about gossip further, Percy dealt with gossip every day without fail and never allowed it to bother him in any shape or form. The notion of a stage persona was not one that was unfamiliar to her but Percy was so skilled at it that she itched to drag him to France and put him in the spotlight. No one would question his skill or match him in anyway, but it was odd how she accepted that this was her new stage. Both Percy and she played characters and played them to the best of their ability, she took pride in the character she played now more than any she had ever played before, because it allowed her choice in all things where every other character had stripped choice from her.
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Post by SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY on Sept 5, 2015 15:53:19 GMT
Let us ride, let us ride home again with a story to tell
Into darkness, into danger
Into storms that rip the night
Don't give in, but give up
But give thanks for the glorious fight
.
The Scarlet Pimpernel is a master of disguise, a man who holds no fear and will laugh in the face of death. He has foiled many a Frenchie plot. Some say he's unstoppable. In reality the Pimpernel is a mere symbol. A symbol that many men have stood and fought for. As for the Pimpernel himself – he is more human than anyone would suspect and those who know the real man would realise how much he loved his wife.
Percy stared down at his wife with a smile, it was so refreshing to be alone with her in his manors grounds. It was a real change to the fast paced life of the English court, more often than not he found court life droll, he would often create his own dramas to amuse himself during the long and arduous hours of speech making. He did however, enjoy a good game of cricket, it was a truly exciting game!
What a vexation his wife was! Percy laughed loudly responding to her words 'Yes! I hear your husband is a scoundrel! How unfortunate you are melady' he laughed removing his hat and tossing it on the grass beside her shoes. He took a seat next to his wife, stretching his legs out on the soft grass.
'I'm not one of your hot-blooded Frenchmen melady!' he exclaimed, 'I am an Englishman and Englishmen are far superior in their restrains! But I fear you do have a fine talent for temptation...' he added catching her eye with a mischievous smile. ''Pray tell me my lady, why have you been out here so long?' he asked.
Percy spent a good deal of time hiding behind his foppish disguise, more often than not he continued the charade alongside his wife. It was a game of theirs - a secret only they shared. It was a truly delicious charade.
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Post by LADY MARGUERITE BLAKENEY on Sept 6, 2015 22:44:53 GMT
i swear i hate you when you leave
'Yes! I hear your husband is a scoundrel! How unfortunate you are melady'
Margot let a bright laugh pass her lips. " Oh indeed Sir, most unfortunate. There are times I lie awake and wonder how I will ever cope with the shame." She teased leaning back on her elbows as she chanced a light glance around her, before looking back at her husband in time to catch him toss his hat without care. Another laugh escaped her lips as she sat up, scooped it in her hands and popped it on her head before leaning back on her elbows again her eyes catching Percy's as she quipped "One must always be properly dressed after all.". Her eyes sparkled in mischief and she found herself wondering how even after so many years of marriage being with Percy made her feel like a newly-wed all over again.
'I'm not one of your hot-blooded Frenchmen melady!' 'I am an Englishman and Englishmen are far superior in their restrains! But I fear you do have a fine talent for temptation...'
Margot let a snort escape her before repressing her laughter " Oh Sir I would not doubt it of you for a second. " She stated nodding her head in faux-seriousness " You must understand that restraint can often be mistaken for lack of passion. I have heard many a young girl complain of marrying an Englishman, tales of this restraint extending even to the bedroom and leaving your partners in fits of frustration are infamous. " She teased silkily with all the innocence of a comely bar wench. Her elbows were beginning to ache so she moved off them and sat up, casting a cursory glance to her toes that peeked from the bottom of her dress and wiggled in response to her gaze.
'Pray tell me my lady, why have you been out here so long?'
Margot inclined her head to show she was listening while keeping her gaze before her. Blakeney Manor truly was a magnificent sight to behold especially on days such as this where the sun bathed the grounds in a cover of warmth and light and with the aid of the trees cast designs on the grass to be enjoyed by wandering eyes. “You have answered your own question earlier Sir. I am a hot-blooded woman and we hot-blooded Frenchies spend our nights in passionate activities and therefore must spend our days idle to gather up our energy for the moons glow.” She jested her eyes returning to her husbands face. She would tell him of her worries soon, but here in the warm glow of both the Sun and her beloved she was nervous to bring up any fears lest the warmth vanish. She scooted closer, removing the hat from her head and pooping it down beside her before resting her head on her shoulder. “Forgive my lack of manners Sir, but you offer the most comfortable perch in the surrounding area, and you Englishmen are indeed known for your chivalry are you not?”
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Post by SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY on Sept 14, 2015 16:14:02 GMT
Let us ride, let us ride home again with a story to tell
Into darkness, into danger
Into storms that rip the night
Don't give in, but give up
But give thanks for the glorious fight
.
It boded well for Percy that his wife seemed to be in high spirits, perhaps his news of his return to France wouldn't cause such a stir. He hated to leave her, but he had no choice, the league were waiting and Percy couldn't forgo his duties to the league. It was who he was, what he lived and breathed for. For him to get that go would be asking for him to forget who he was.
Percy gave Margot a playful stern look as she spoke, 'I should certainly hope you do not feel that way melady!' He jested nudging her playfully, 'I hear your husband would not be best impressed, perhaps it would be wise to indulge him' Percy added.
He could not help but feel his wife was not being entirely truthful, yes, she was a passionate woman. She was a woman who's passions ran deep and would not normally be content with a simple life. Heck, she'd been a famous actress, the woman needed challenges not calm gardens and idle chatter.
They were both far too alike.
As Margot rested her head upon Percy's shoulder, he put his arm around her, his blue eyes drifted to look upon Blakeney manor. As a child his home hadn't been the happiest of places, but now it had become his playground.
'Margot...' he began, 'I'm going to France for a few weeks, there's some important league business and I need go now while France's eye are busy focused on other things' he explained, 'I'd like you to stay here.' he told her firmly.
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Post by LADY MARGUERITE BLAKENEY on Sept 23, 2015 19:30:40 GMT
i swear i hate you when you leave Margot withheld a laugh as Percy spoke before quipping back "Indulge him I do, good sir. I indulge him all his odd little notions." She teased. The wind was beginning to pick up ever so slightly blowing her hair about her eyes in a way that forced her to either close them or disturb the peace that danced around them by moving. Margot chose the former with no real thought to it, letting her eyes slip closed as she mused silently over the contrast between the warmth of Percy and the slight nip of the air. As a child she had sworn blind to her father that she could tell the coming weather just by standing outside in the air and whether it had been a delusion of childhood or the strange sensitivity that only the young possess she knew not, but her father had indulged her. He had wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close to him before telling her tales of the fairies that whispered in the ears of those that were willing to listen and that this was often lost to adults who were too busy to listen to their words. He had spoken at such a great depth that her mother had scolded him for abandoning his work for so long and Margot's head had been filled with the images of leaves with eyes that laughed in delight from mouths Margot couldn't find when the scent of rain came on the warm Summer's air. She had always associated her father with the out doors, a strong man who cleaved and worked the earth like he was made from it and it welcomed him home with every swing.
Her mother was more like a petal perfectly formed and beautiful without fault but so delicate it seemed like a strong wind could sweep her away and by no means suited for the labors of the lands. Margot knew now with age that her mother's frailty had been linked to her refusals to eat. Taking only paltry portions in order to ensure that her husband had enough food to work and her children had enough to grow. Margot had thought her mother's frailty the image of femininity and had dismissed the fellow farmers wives in her mind as tree trunks to her mothers gentle stem, she knew better now. Hindsight helped her little in the hear and now, her mother and father were gone lost to an injustice that had dragged Margot down a path that she had regretted traversing with every mile. A large part of Margot ached for them, but more so she thanked them for all they had offered her. However heartbreaking it had been at the time every step had lead her to the happiness she felt today.
However the recent years had created an ache in Margot that she hoped to rectify sooner rather then later. Her parents had been buried in simple graves (Thankfully the Marquis had not killed enough people to justify some faceless mass grave.) but Margot had only visited it the once. The regret and the anger had consumed her as she stood there on the day they were buried and had chased her for the rest of her life. Telling her over and over again that she had no right to visit them until she could offer them something. She understood now, as she desperately tried to wash the blood of innocents off her hands that all she had ever needed to offer them was herself, healthy and happy, and so after too long she ached to finally give it to them. Leave in the earth some form of her love for Percy and her happiness in her life so they could cease their worry until she joined them in the very distant future, but as of now it was an impossible dream. One day she would fulfill it, for now she was content to lie here with Percy and breathe in the nipping air with a satisfaction she had never thought she would have.
She let herself snuggle closer to him thankful that she wore no make-up to damage his outfit and let out a breathless laugh as she smelled horse on his coat. She was about to tease him over his love for the animal when he spoke hesitating words that she could tell had been on his mind for quite some time. She barely had time to ponder why he feared telling her so when he finished firmly and her eyes snapped open. Her body jolted upright and a stubborn "No!" escaped her before she had time to think about it. "Heavens Percy have you lost your mind? There is no way I am letting you run off to France without me. They are on the brink of another revolution! France is my homeland I am far more beneficial to you in France then sitting in England twiddling my thumbs. For every contact you have over there I have just as many. You are not running off into danger without me right beside you to keep you safe!" She huffed her eyes flashing with an anger that contrasted her earlier state of calm. Margot, after all, was nothing if not in control of her emotions and that allowed her an exuberance that few ladies had the option to display.
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Post by SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY on Sept 30, 2015 9:38:28 GMT
Let us ride, let us ride home again with a story to tell
Into darkness, into danger
Into storms that rip the night
Don't give in, but give up
But give thanks for the glorious fight
.
Here they were again. The Blakeney's never seemed to have a moments peace, every generation of Blakeney seemed to have lived through a life of unrest and while Percy was very happy with his lot, he couldn't help but worry he was letting Margot down. He loved her so damn much that it killed him to see her even slightly unhappy. He wished he could be content with playing cricket and attending socials with his wife, but he just wasn't wired that way. He had a job to do and a dangerous one at that.
Percy rose and moved away from his wife at her exclamations. Her French stubbornness and temper was extremely intolerable and mighty frustrating. Especially when Percy was determined to get his way.
'Damnation Margot!' Percy cursed, unable to turn and make eye contact with his wife, 'this isn't for you to argue about. It has been decided!' He folded his arms with frustration, for once his wife was going to do what she was told!
'Do you not remember what happened the last time you were in France!' He mused, 'You were nearly killed Margot, there is likely to still be a price on your head. Do you really think I'm going to let you waltz into France to let you get hurt? The place ain't safe for you. Andrew and I will be doing important league work and I don't have time for your airs Madame!' He vented turning to face his wife.
For once in her life she was going to have to do as she was told. Percy really couldn't stand it if he were to lose her. She would be safe at home.
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Post by LADY MARGUERITE BLAKENEY on Oct 4, 2015 22:33:32 GMT
i swear i hate you when you leave
Margot could see the stubbornness in her husband’s eyes and stood quickly in a desperate hope to match his height. She couldn’t stand him towering over her and trying to tell her what to do like she had no mind of her own. She loved Percy so much she couldn’t stand to see him in danger and France was too dangerous at this time. It had been years since he was anything but the Scarlet Pimpernel in name only. How could he guarantee he was still in shape, that all his contacts were still loyal, that the people would be as receptive to his quest as they were before? “Nothing has been decided, Percy Blakeney!” She snapped repressing the urge to shake him until he saw sense. “I am not going to just sit here and accept your orders while you run off into danger and possibly get yourself killed. If you wanted that you should have married some simple English filly.” She hissed resisting the urge to turn and storm off. It didn’t matter how angry she was at him right now it would do no good until she had explained her case. Her mouth opened to comment when he cut across her.
“Oh no you don’t Percival Blakeney. When I was in France? What about the time before when you got shot? Or even the time in question where I was only there because you got your secret identity revealed, and then you preceded to get yourself caught.” She growled stepping forward to face him better. “France is my home and I’m a capable actress. I can be of far more use to you in France then over here.” She grumbled resisting the urge to stamp her foot like she was on the stage. She couldn’t deny that years of acting made her in some ways overly-dramatic. Though she was no more dramatic than her husband. Margot huffed before letting the anger seep out of her stance. She reached out to take his hands in hers gently. “Percy, you cannot trap me in me the house for the rest of my life in hopes of keeping me safe from harm. Do you think that if something happened to you I wouldn’t ache as deeply as any wound?” She murmured raising one hand to cup his cheek. “Please Percy, at least let me come with you and stay with a friend of mine. Then I can cling to the hope that if you need me I am right there to help you.”
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