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Post by MARIE EVANGELINE ROQUEFEUIL on Sept 2, 2015 0:01:15 GMT
C'est La Vie Is it any wonder why we can't understand one another? The redheaded woman was in a flurry running from one part of the manor house to the other, her heels clicking on the floors, as she instructed servants in their preparations. The ladies looked at her with sheepishly amused glances. Marie, usually the picture of calm, was far from it today. Though she did have a good reason. She had just received word that two of her dearest friends were coming to visit her.
Marie had a long history with the Blakeneys. She had met his wife Margot before they had been married — back in the days when Margot had been the actress Marguerite St. Juste. Marie had been a great fan of the theater and usually went to see all of Margot’s new plays at least once if not twice during their running. When Margot had become enamored of an Englishman, Percy Blakeney, Marie had befriended him as well.. the last thing she’d expected was to find out that -Percy- was the much sought and gossiped about Scarlet Pimpernel.. then again the fact that he’d become quite the dandy should have been more of a clue, she had thought to herself at the time. Once Percy had rescued her family, Marie sought about thanking him for his loyalty by continuing to support his cause.
But with Margot in exile and being sought after by Robespierre, the Blakeneys had had no choice but to go back to England, and Marie hadn’t seen her friends in some time. When she had received a letter a week prior that Margot was missing her home but that Percy hadn’t yet deemed it safe for her to return to Paris and that they were coming to visit, Marie had been thrilled. Marie often had visitors, and she didn’t lack for company being a part of the aristocratic social circle, but it was rare that she got to see a particularly close friend like Margot. And they were arriving today, this very afternoon in time for tea. The fact that it was finally the day Marie would see her friends had pushed Marie into quite the tizzy of preparations that had really already been prepared — but she needed something to keep her mind and hands busy whilst she waited for her friends’ arrival.
And excitement to see Margot and Percy wasn’t the only reason Marie was looking forward to this visit. Ever since the… outing… if it could be called that, that she had been set up on by King Henri and his riding master Victor D’Anthes, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the mysterious Paul Chauvelin who she had met that night. More than Met. Marie thought to herself a tad ruefully. She couldn’t with all honesty say she -regretted- what had happened between them… but.. it certainly hadn’t be the way a proper lady and gentleman should act! And -then- she hadn’t seen him since! The fact that her mind was plagued with him annoyed her. She knew he worked within the government and that he was busy.. but still.. she didn’t know if he was thinking about her and she didn’t want to be any weaker than he was as far as her mind went.
Finally it was time to change for tea.
By the time Marie emerged from her boudoir in a powder blue tea dress, she was barely able to contain herself due to excitement. Thankfully, she was saved from her anxiousness because only a few seconds later she heard the sound of horses’ hooves in the gravel outside. As she went to the door she was rewarded with a view of Percy and Margot. For a moment, forgetting all her learned ladylike mannerisms, Marie ran down the stairs like an excited child holding the bothersome dress out of her way and one hand clamped to the hat on her head to make sure it didn’t go sailing. Reaching the other woman, she tossed her arms around Margot and squeezed her tightly into a hug.
“It’s so good to see you! I’ve missed you!” She exclaimed excitedly.
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Post by LADY MARGUERITE BLAKENEY on Sept 2, 2015 16:15:57 GMT
Life was escaping me I couldn't find myself till it was all lost France was as always so beautiful and perfect. They had been forced to avoid villages on their carriage journey down but even the meadows and country cottages were enough to fill Margot's heart with a warmth that she couldn't deny. She had resisted the urge to press herself up against the glass like a child or stick her head out of the carriage window and breathe in the glorious French air. England was now her home but France would always be tucked away in a special place in her heart. The crossing from London had been peaceful in spite of Margot's fears, stormy sailing trips had never agreed with her delicate stomach and she had spent most of it a ball of excitement no doubt annoying poor Percy in her boundless enthusiasm to dock. It had been years since Margot had set foot in France, chased out before by her escape from execution and forced to remain at home while Percy disappeared across the sea on occasion for fear that Robespierre's men would find her and drag her back to the guillotine once more. He had finally agreed to let her go when she agreed to stay in a safe house with her friend Marie, (Well also when she spent two weeks sulking and bringing it up at every chance possible but Margot didn't view that part important enough to state out loud.) she could only hope that Marie would be kind enough to let her invite over a few old friends and perhaps sneak her into Paris when her husband was busy with League business. The carriage bumbled over a rock and Margot let out a delighted laugh as it bounced her about on the seat enough for her to lose her blanket to the floor. Scooping it up off the ground she dusted it off lightly and tossed it around her shoulders this time and laughing again once it caught Percy lightly on the nose in the process. Margot sent him a cheerful grin before turning her face back to the window and relaxing into the seat, the sites of France filling her eyes and as they passed a local farm the sensuous lilt of her native language rising and falling in her ears, tempting her to chat to Percy in it just for the thrill of doing so. Percy's French always amused her. He spoke French fluently but even in the depths of a rapid conversation his English accent broke through twisting the words just so to make them entirely his own. On nights when they were both wakeful she would speak to him in French to hear him respond in kind and would allow the warmth of his voice surround her, even as he spoke of the most mundane things like the coming weeks events. The carriage began to slow as they reached the gates of Marie's manor and Margot found herself pulling forward, pulling off her blanket and tossing it to the other side of the carriage in her haste. Her fingers tapped impatiently on the door as they trundled up the drive and Margot found herself getting silently irritated with the drive length, sure it left a nice impression but it extended the length of the journey far beyond a tolerable length of time. As the carriage finally trundled to a stop she patiently allowed the driver, a friend of Percy's who had assured them the utmost discretion, to help her out her favourite red and white striped dress settling neatly around her. She had barely a second to clear the carriage doorway to allow her husband out before powder blue clad arms engulfed her and Margot let out a laugh before returning the gesture with a warm squeeze her eyes slipping closed in happiness. It’s so good to see you! I’ve missed you! "Oh how I have missed you too. It has been far too long and letters are not nearly as pleasant as hearing your voice." She gushed, before pulling back to look in her friend's eyes, this lasting barely 2 seconds before she was hugging Marie again. Finally stepping back she let out a light laugh and spoke again "You do remember my dear Percy?" a teasing lilt filling her voice with repressed laughter.
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Post by SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY on Sept 4, 2015 21:45:48 GMT
{ } Percy was not in the best of moods. As much as he adored travelling, this arduous journey in the back of a carriage was playing havoc with Percy's self esteem. Zounds! He should be riding his beloved horse through France, not pottering about in a slow carriage, but he was travelling as Sir Percy and Sir Percy travelled by coach not by horse. Sometimes he loathed Sir Percy. Percy looked across at his wife sulkily. It was due to her incessant harping on about her beloved France that had driven him to packing his bags and ordering his ship -the Daydream- to be prepared for another voyage across the sea to the land of Liberty. He couldn't help but feel it was a mistake to let her travel to a country that was just about ready to let its blades drop on anyone they could blame for the countries uproar. But sometimes one had to oblige his wife's whims. The last time they had been in France together Margot had been on a cart ready to face Madame Guillotine herself, he had not like that one bit. Damn revolutionary frenchies! Striking at those who were not responsible for the downfall of the country and putting it into the hands of much worse men. The carriage jumped forward restlessly over the rocky road and Percy frowned with annoyance. The damned road was intolerable, how he missed his comfortable saddle. The carriage hit another rock and Lady Blakeney let out a startled cry, dropping her blanket on the carriage floor. In one fluid motion she'd picked it up and hit him in the face with it. Percy flashed her a look of frustration 'Damnation Margot!' He cursed, 'will you please refrain with your incessant buzzing - it's damned intolerable' he added grumpily. He was restless. Itching to get on his horse and do what he did best. After what seemed like an age the carriage pulled up in front of the manor house, his old friend and now league confident Lady Roquefeuil had agreed to let them stay at her home. He would let Margot natter and he would use the time to gain allies and information. The carriage pulled to a halt and Percy climbed out, patting the creases from his black tailcoat. Looking down at his cravat he frowned, the wretched thing was all wrong. It just would not do! Percy barely had time to help his wife out before she'd shot off to greet her old friend in a typical Frenchie fashion. Percy followed her over to where she stood with her friend, before removing his hat and bowing to greet Marie. 'My dear Lady it's truly splendid to see you again' he gushed 'my wife, Lady Blakeney insisted upon seeing you again! I thought I'd restock my wine cellar and visit one of your French tailors, England's so dull this time of year its all sepia browns and shabby cravats...' he rambled in his usual foppish manner but behind it his eyes grinned impishly. 'You must forgive me if make haste, I'm in dire need of a tailor! The carriage ride has danced the minuet with my intestines, Sink me! Your French roads are are not kind to Englishmen!' he moaned before replacing his hat. 'My horse should be ready, I shall leave you ladies be' he said, before bowing once more and turning to collect his horse so he could be on his way.The league were waiting...
Notes - Leaving to make room for PAUL CHAUVELIN. Never fear the Pimpernel shall return! MADE BY VEL OF GS
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Post by PAUL CHAUVELIN on Sept 6, 2015 3:31:44 GMT
[attr="class","cough-syrup"] [attr="class","hover-container"] [attr="class","lyrics1"]it's time to rise and climb the sky [attr="class","lyrics2"] I wasn’t born to walk on water[break]I wasn’t born to sack and slaughter[break]but on my soul I wasn’t born[break]to stoop to scorn and knuckle under [attr="class","content"] [attr="class","mycontainer"] The tiny village of Bois-le-Roi lay not far behind when Chauvelin reached the fork in the road and reined in Abraxas to consider his options. To the right, the road continued to follow the Seine, sunlight sparkling enticingly on the river's surface. To the left, it plunged into the cool green shadows of Fountainebleau Forest, a welcome relief in the heat of high summer.
Either would, he knew, ultimately take him to Paris, but he wasn't going to reach home by tonight. Though it was a beautiful day to be a-horse and there were yet hours of light left, the days when he could ride from sunrise to sunset without consequence were in his past. Even his anxiousness to be back keeping a weather eye on the tinderbox the city had become couldn't change that fact.
Turning the Lipizzaner's head to the right would take him to Melun, a pleasant enough city with a selection of perfectly adequate inns. To the left would mean traversing a small branch of the sprawling woodland, but beyond that on the verge of the forest lay the Roquefeuil-Blanquefort estate.
Marie's home.
Just at the thought of her name, Chauvelin smiled in pure, uncomplicated happiness, an expression that had rarely graced his features in the past several years. He'd neither seen nor spoken to her since the morning after the night they met, an omission forced upon him by circumstance. Throughout his handling of the matter in the south that had called him away, his mind had kept drifting to her in unguarded moments.
Now, so close, the desire to see her again gripped and pulled at him like a living hand. It wasn't entirely appropriate for a gentleman to appear at a lady's door uninvited and unannounced on such scant acquaintance -- though 'scant' could be applied only to the duration, hardly the intensity. Still, that was what calling cards were for, and he always kept a few in a black-lacquered case in a vest pocket.
Scarcely aware he was doing so, he gave a gentle tug to the left on the black gelding's reins.
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Post by MARIE EVANGELINE ROQUEFEUIL on Sept 7, 2015 22:20:43 GMT
C'est La Vie Is it any wonder why we can't understand one another? Marie held Margot at arm’s length away from her for a moment as she looked her friend up and down taking in her beautiful red and white dress and stylishly done hair. She looked as amazing and youthful as she always had despite the years which had separated the two from seeing one another.
Goodness knew they hadn’t lost contact regularly sending each other correspondence and gifts. Marie had wanted to travel to England to see her friend as well as have Margot to her estate for the first time in years, but ever since Henri had disappeared into the woods and the Chouannerie had become extremely busy expecting that Marie would -want- to keep up with them as Jean-Claude had done leaving her with enemies to keep closer and less time for the friends one -wanted- to keep close. Though that hadn’t been the main reason the two hadn’t seen one another. The last time Margot had been in France, after all, she had been on her way to the guillotine and thank God Percy had rescued her. But the price of the rescue had been him rushing her away to Blakeney estate in the English countryside a long way from France and a long way from Marie. It felt like it had been eons even when in reality it hadn’t been so long. She clutched her friend to her again happy to be seeing her at long last.
Finally, she had enough presence of mind to offer her hand to Percy when he doffed his hat toward her. She was happy to see him as well. And happy that he was back in France. She hated to believe that the league may soon need to reform… but it was better to have these men if needed than not.. Or else many more innocent people would die. She could understand the lower class’s upset with their living conditions, but she would never be able to understand why they felt it a good solution to take their anger and hurt out on aristocrats who had nothing to do with the government let alone the decision making processes. Even those who were involved in the government didn’t always have any say in those matters…
Marie let out a jovial laugh at Percy. “Be gone with you then good sir, for everyone knows that Sir Percy simply can’t abide anything but a perfectly tailored cravat!” she said, shooing the man off in the general direction of his prancing horse being offered to him by one of her capable grooms. Marie put her arm around Margot’s shoulder as she lead her friend toward the house.
“Well.. I suspect we’ve seen the last of him for the day. It appears he can’t even tolerate our woman chatter long enough to make it inside the house!” The redhead said with a grin. “And now we must go inside and I have had an excellent tea laid, and I have so much to -tell- you, and I must hear your news.. and.. Oh! I’m so happy you’re here! I’ve been beside myself with excitement ever since I received your letter. You must never go away ever again!” She mock ordered.
“But tell me everything that has been happening with you.”
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Post by LADY MARGUERITE BLAKENEY on Sept 8, 2015 22:33:41 GMT
Life was escaping me I couldn't find myself till it was all lost It was not often that Margot could describe anything about her husband as abrupt, but this was one of those few times. It was difficult to be in anyway mad at him for Margot was well aware that the blame probably rested with her. His concern has been obvious as she wore him down in the weeks leading up to this visit. Glances that rested a little too long and flashes of complex emotions in the face of her excitement, but Margot had never been a woman to run in fear of anything and Percy was just as high up on the list to go to the Guillotine as she was...they just had more evidence against her then him. France was a part of her that she would never be able to erase and she needed to see it, speak the language, and immerse herself in it. As Percy and Marie spoke she allowed her gaze to sweep over Marie's lands and took in a deep breath curious of how England could even smell different to France.
Margot spun to face Percy as he spoke, finally letting Marie go, and resisted the urge to rush after him. As far as she knew Andrew had remained in England and her mind revolted against letting him go alone, but before she could voice her protests he was on his horse and riding off and Margot watched him for as long as she could before Marie's arm slipped around her shoulder and she turned her head to her friend allowing a bright smile to return to her face. At Marie's words she let out a bright laugh "Indeed! For a man so full of tiresome chatter himself, he has a shockingly low tolerance for it in others. Perhaps because it steals the limelight from his own charming visage." She teased laughter filling each word with a light and warm joy.
The house was just as beautiful and grand as Margot remembered it but looking around she suffered a blankness about the layout. She allowed herself to lean a little more into Marie, as she simply couldn't trust her body to lead her down a wrong path and have her suffer the embarrassment of correcting herself. "I shall have to trust you to lead on Marie, how disgraceful is it that I have been away from this house long enough to forget its layout." She queried amused. "You shall have to get me a small tour before bed or I shall get so horribly lost on the way to breakfast that no one shall find my body!" A laugh escaped her ruby lips before she continued "Though I wonder if that is your plan get me lost in here so I can never leave and will be forced to rely on you to bring me food and company." She teased Marie lightly bumping her hip against Marie's in a childish jest.
At Marie's question Margot paused her step and scrunched up her nose. "Ten years of news and I can think of nothing of great importance or worth noting." She began to walk again humming lightly as she thought before beginning her voice hushed to avoid prying ears. "Perhaps a general overview is best hmm? Well life has been simple for us in England despite escaping to it in complicated circumstances. I remain, as always, the proud entertainer and hostess of the finest Balls in London but in many ways Percy and I find them tiring, we both seem to find our roles like something in a play and even an actress like myself doesn't wish to live every second of every day in character. Percy had to come over now in the face of the unrest you are facing here. The Scarlet Pimpernel may have to ride again and he needs to be ready." The last few lines were whispered quieter than before and Margot ended it with a light glance around her before raising her voice and speaking again. "And you my dear, how is all in your life? And dear Henri? Is he well. I can only imagine he is off riding or running about in the fields. I would never be able to imagine that boy in an office." She teased laughing at the image in her head.
Margot had missed Marie so, even in England with her close friends no one knew of Percy’s secret and every conversation she held with them was filled with guilt as they spilled their hopes and secrets to her and she was forced to reserve her own. With Marie she could truly be free to discuss everything she wanted to, and even things she didn’t want to without fear of judgement or reprimand. As her thoughts filled with warmth for Marie she reached up, grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly flashing Marie with a warm smile.
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Post by PAUL CHAUVELIN on Sept 10, 2015 18:56:50 GMT
[attr="class","cough-syrup"] [attr="class","hover-container"] [attr="class","lyrics1"]it's time to rise and climb the sky [attr="class","lyrics2"] I wasn’t born to walk on water[break]I wasn’t born to sack and slaughter[break]but on my soul I wasn’t born[break]to stoop to scorn and knuckle under [attr="class","content"] [attr="class","mycontainer"] As he neared the gates of Marie’s estate, Chauvelin reined Abraxas in from the canter the Lipizzaner had maintained for the past several miles. It was a smooth gait, a compromise between speed and comfort, both important concerns for a man who wanted to arrive where he was going quickly, but still able to move. It was more tiring for the horse, though and the gelding lifted its head and shook it a little, scenting water in a trough by the stables.
Roquefeuil-Blanquefort was a well-run estate and a groom appeared immediately to take hold of Abraxas’ bridle as Chauvelin reached the top of the drive. Other stablemen were busy with the team of a traveling carriage, skillfully taking them out of harness and rubbing them down, and the old spymaster felt an irrational pang of annoyed disappointment that Marie apparently already had company. Still, he hadn’t even known he was coming, he could hardly have expected her to know, let alone make or change plans to suit his convenience. Ah, well. He could leave his card and dally awhile to rest and water his horse before moving on.
Dismounting, an action he was pleased to accomplish smoothly and without any grunts or groans despite the stiffness in his hips, Chauvelin handed Abraxas over to the attentive groom. Then he strode toward the manor’s front door, welcoming the opportunity to limber up after the long ride behind him and the shorter ride he thought was yet to come.
Impeccably turned out house servants met him in the vestibule, their manners as perfect as their couture. Singling out the highest ranking, Chauvelin extracted one of his calling cards and laid it up on the silver tray provided for the purpose. It was a trifle unorthodox, as the hour was well past the conventional time for ‘calling in,’ but at least Marie would know he was thinking of her.
The servant whisked away with it, while another ushered him into a side parlor to offer him refreshment while he awaited the Vicomtesse’s response.
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Post by MARIE EVANGELINE ROQUEFEUIL on Sept 19, 2015 20:09:59 GMT
C'est La Vie Is it any wonder why we can't understand one another? TAG: PAUL CHAUVELIN. NOTES: dare hiM: give her a crazy sweep her off her feet kiss right now Marie tilted back her head letting out a laugh very much full of joy de vivre. She honestly couldn’t remember when was the last time she’d been so happy about someone calling at her home. After all, a decade separated Margot’s last visit, and though letters were long and frequent.. there was just something all the better about a visit in person. Especially one promising to be as long as this one was to be. “Dear Margot.. I think you have discovered the man’s secret! He is quite good at giving all matter of prattle but is quite incapable of receiving it. He does rather like the attention does he not?” Privately, Marie thought, and suspected Margot probably shared her views, that Percy’s ability to grab and hold the attention probably had kept his head on his shoulders by keeping anyone from having proof that Percy was indeed the Pimpernel — and that was a blessing both on a personal front for Margot and on a larger scale for the people of France who were in danger. It was no small thankfulness that Percy was as good at both drawing attention to what he wanted people to see and leading it away from that which they shouldn’t..
Chuckling mirthfully at Margot’s comment about starving to death before finding her way to breakfast, Marie pointed out where each hall splitting off from the central point of the house led. “And you shall have a much more proper tour before bed rest assured. And perhaps I shall even send a maid to escort you to breakfast to be certain you don’t expire with pangs of hunger as well.” She teased good naturedly as she lead her friend into the comfortable parlor.
The parlor was a comfortable place: a mixture of elegance and comfort. It had French rococo design with mint green papered walls with elegant floral designs and edging of medium brown wood with trimmings of gold design. Thick carpets covered the floor and hand carved furniture in beautiful wood with fancily embroidered velvet cushions sat about the room. Pink draperies with gold tassels hung at the picture window which were pulled back leaving only a gauzy white sheet before the window such that light spilled into the room over the furniture. Marie sat right beside Margot on a davenport before the tea table. As if on silent cue, a nicely dressed maid entered bearing a tea tray with a steaming tea pot, lemons, milk, and sugar. Another maid followed bearing a large tray with little tea sandwiches and finger foods and petite fours.
“And you’ve seen nothing yet, Margot. I have such the plans for our elegant dinner! In fact.” She hesitated before giving the best part as if to build the suspense. “There will even be mint ice-cream!” She enthused with a smile. Ice cream was such a rare treat as it took such a long time to make and was rather expensive, but Marie had spared no small trouble for her dear friends. “And after dinner we must play some music and have Percy take turns dancing with each of us!” She enthused quite excitedly.
And she also listened as Margot filled her in about life in the last few years. “It sounds for all the world as if your life has been quite idyllic. Rather picturesque, in fact.” Marie murmured with a smile. “I’m glad of that.. ” She also kept her voice to a whisper thereafter to avoid any ears even though she was sure there were none — it was more befitting of the situation. “I can understand that.. living a play every day would be.. quite tiring because it’s not like being on stage where after every evening you take off your stage makeup and your costume and retire home..” Marie turned to Margot filling a cup of tea for her guest in just the way she liked it. Marie hadn’t forgotten in a decade. She handed the steaming cup to Margot before continuing. “I.. had been thinking of that myself.” She responded in a whisper. “From what I hear, unrest in Paris is growing.. Now Maximilien Robespierre is becoming more powerful daily. Rumors are that the little King has tried to do things to thwart those in control.. but what can a boy be expected to really do? Though speaking of him.. There is to be a ball! A grand event in just a few days. You MUST come.. And Percy as well. We’ll find a way to doll you up so it’s not as obvious who you might be.. without completely hiding your lovely face and then we will both dance all night long.. just as we used to do when we were both.. well.. a great many number of years younger.” Marie winked conspiratorially.
She was about to say something else about the coming Fete when there was a knock on the door and the maid who had brought the tea returned holding a silver tray which Marie used for collecting calling cards.
“Now that’s interesting.. I wasn’t expecting -two- sets of guests today. Shall we see who’s decided to drop in?” Marie inquired of her friend as she removed the greeting card from the tray and looked at it for just a moment before laying it back. Probably, she realized with a slight blush, faster than Margot was even able to see it. The color rose pink in her cheeks. Paul was here. Now her doubts that she was in disgrace and he hadn’t wanted to see her faded as easily as a popped soap bubble. After all, she lived thirty miles from the city.. a long day’s travel.. It was for certain that something must have come up keeping him distracted and away from being able to call on her and he had done so as soon as he could. And, of course, she wouldn’t think of turning him away… Whatever they.. were to one another.. he was an important part of her heart now. And, she realized to herself, his timing was wonderfully perfect as now she would be able to introduce him to Margot.
Margot had encouraged her to look for happiness again after Jean-Claude passed, but she had always brushed it away. Marie suspected Margot had been waiting for her to act on the advice as she might be the only one save Paul who had any indication that Marie’s feelings for Jean-Claude had been.. friendly, fond, the kind of love born over almost two decades together… but that was all.. There had never been the passion there that Margot described in her relationship with Percy in letters where Marie could imagine Margot blushing as her quill hovered over the parchment as she decided what to write.
“Now this is someone you must meet Margot.. I’ve finally taken you up on your advice when it comes to gentlemen.” she winked at her friend knowing she would interpret that well enough. She could tell her about the specifics of what had gone on later.. maybe get some help making sense of it all. “Let me go and welcome him. I’m sure you don’t mind if he joins us for dinner also?” She inquired jovially. Now the day was quite perfect. All of her favorite people were around her save Henri — and that would have been a taxing, quite unpleasant affair, so it was quite good he was off in the woods. Again. Marie hadn’t seen him for at least a month.. thus was the nature of Henri now that he’d taken off with the Sacred Heart. She did miss him.. though it was easier to manage the estate as -she- wished without him under foot..
Marie disappeared from the room with a soft swish of skirts crossing the hall to the second, even more formal parlor. Marie rarely entertained here, but it wasn’t becoming to welcome a guest right into the parlor with another without a proper introduction first. She entered the parlor casting her eyes upon Chauvelin, finely dressed in riding clothes but impressive all the same. Her heartbeat rose to a palpable level and her breath caught as memories flashed through her mind. Especially how his mouth had felt on hers… She had tried not to think in too much detail of that evening — which had been quite the thankless nearly impossible task without his presence.. but now that he was here…
“It’s good to see you.” She murmured, letting the parlor door fall shut with a quiet sound as it went into place leaving the two completely alone.. at least for a moment. “I’m glad you’ve come..” She said softly as she stepped close to him. It wouldn’t be proper to take long before returning with him to the parlor where Margot waited. But they could take a moment at least. Slowly, she reached a lace gloved hand toward his hand, slipping her fingers around his as happiness rushed into her body with the warmth of his touch. She tried to think of the words to explain there was someone she wanted him to meet, but his dark eyes captured hers and made her mind quite foggy and she couldn’t.. not for the moment.
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Post by PAUL CHAUVELIN on Oct 11, 2015 23:04:55 GMT
[attr="class","cough-syrup"] [attr="class","hover-container"] [attr="class","lyrics1"]it's time to rise and climb the sky [attr="class","lyrics2"] I wasn’t born to walk on water[break]I wasn’t born to sack and slaughter[break]but on my soul I wasn’t born[break]to stoop to scorn and knuckle under [attr="class","content"] [attr="class","mycontainer"] While he waited, Chauvelin clasped his hands behind his back and paced idly around the well-appointed room. Something of a connoisseur of art, he paused in front of each of the landscapes framed and hanging on the walls. They were beautifully done, the details meticulous, and he wasn’t surprised to see the signature of Turpin de Crisse. He’d long been an admirer of the Comte’s work, and would know it anywhere.
Then Marie was there, and mere paint and canvas were forgotten in an instant. He’d been worried, he admitted to himself in the same instant as he put the fear aside, that she wouldn’t want to see him. That he had been away too long for a single night, however magical, to hold her. Such doubt was unlike him, but she was different. He hadn’t consciously admitted it to himself yet, but what he had with her was precious and something he could not bear to lose.
“It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’ve come..”
Nine words. But it was her smile, the flush in her cheeks, even the quickening in her breath that made him know the first was true. Then it was the rustle of her dress and the brush of her fingers as she wove them through his own that attested to the second.
Smiling down into Marie’s sparkling eyes, Paul wrapped his arm around her and drew her closer into his embrace. After a moment, he bent down to kiss her, long and slow and fiercely gentle. When he finally came up for air, the older gentleman reached up to brush back an imaginary strand of hair.
“It’s good to see you,” he said. “I’m sorry to interrupt tea,” he added. “I noted the carriage outside and didn’t mean to take you from your company.”
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