Denunciation

"Monsieur Chauvelin,
It has come to my attention that one of your prot�g�s, Armand St.-Just, had been acting strangely as of late concerning revolutionary matters to which I think your attention should be aimed. His manners towards the fallen aristocracy are at best suspicious and at worst bordering on treason. Keep your eye on him.
Liberty, equality, fraternity.
--A friend."

Chauvelin's eyes combed over the paper, torn from a book. It was the signature of the ABC society, a group of young patriots who he found to have loyal hearts but even better, hot blood that often served him well. Chauvelin treated them with friendliness, cultivating their loyalty to him. They were the hope of France , he wished all had their fidelity to freedom. This letter also had a message scribbled on in a different hand. I thought you'd want something done about this; I've put him under watch. Just thought you wanted to know this information. Chauvelin was suddenly glad almost all of his relations were in prisons, cowering for their lives. Family was a dangerous thing willing to backstab each other for power. He thought for a moment. How could this be used to his advantage? A smile came to his thin lips; he had an even better idea. He got out some paper and began some letter writing. Two letters were then composed.

To Prosecutor Villefort,
I wish to ask that a prot�g� of mine, Armand St.-Just, be promoted and transferred to your department in order to aid the Republic further.
Chauvelin

To the Friend,
Find out what you can about this matter. An accusation as serious as this must progress delicately as Armand St. Just has an excellent reputation. I must have proof. Please report back any suspicious behavior to me. I thank you for your service to the republic and commend your good work in finding a possible traitor.
Chauvelin

"Have this sent back" he said, imagining the look on Antoine's face when he found out his cousin was being promoted. Too bad he'd miss it, he was sure the boy would throw things, and then keep him under closer watch to try and destroy him. All working to his advantage. Well, down to the next stage of his plan. He knew the Blakeney trip to Scotland had been cancelled, information traveled freely in England. Well, money kept the stream flowing, and leading a simple life, his budget allowed for bribes. So, she was ready for another visit, this time with the letter. He looked around at his pile of work. Yes, he could afford a few hours. He checked himself in the mirror, made sure his appearance was neat, then ordered a coach to take him on a trip to Richmond , grasping a thick pile of papers to work on the way. He'd have taken his daughter along but he'd never allow her near Blakeney again after what happened and besides, her nursemaid was taking her to the park. He ignored the countryside, passing and looked through financial reports; M. Hamilton's ideas of neutrality annoyed him greatly. When those insolent upstarts needed their aid, France had come. Damn him! He read keenly the articles published, trying as best he could to think of a plan of action to recommend for the Americans. The carriage stopped suddenly. Chauvelin looked up and saw he had arrived. A footman came to meet him. "Please inform her Ladyship that Armand Chauvelin wishes to call on her" he said. If she knew what was good for her brother, she'd see him.

When word arrived that Chauvelin had come to call on her, Marguerite was found asleep in a chair in her sitting room, her head resting against the window pane. She awoke with a start as Davis interrupted her slumber and cursed herself for drifting off. It wasn�t the first time, nor the last time that she had fallen asleep against a window. There was only so long the body could go on before it damned rest� but it would pay off. She looked out the window, scanning the landscape, as she rose from her seat and stretched her stiff limbs. �What time is it?� Davis �s answer came with an impatient sigh. Evidently, all the servants were impatient with her obsession with time. �Yes, that makes sense.� Certainly she had them all in a state of perplexity and agitation. Whatever Percy�s ordered had been, the servants were bent on following them to the letter. �Who did you say was calling?�

�Ambassador Chauvelin.�

Him again. The last time she had seen Chauvelin had destroyed what little peace that she and Percy had managed to restore to their marriage. She hadn�t seen her husband since that horrible day, when he stalked out ordering her to be imprisoned in this house. He had sent a letter � cold, formal � that he had business up north and that he would be delayed for an unknown length of time. Business... or a mistress? Would she have been in better stead had she been his mistress rather than his wife? At least then she wouldn�t be trapped as she was now. The thought of him lying in another woman�s arms sent an ache through her heart. The thought of those strong arms encircling another, those lips exciting another to the point of ecstasy... tortured her beyond enduring. �I�ll see to it he never regrets marrying me,� she once told Suzanne, how childish she had been!

�Have the ambassador informed I shall be down momentarily.� She allowed Davis to dress her, brush and arrange her hair and help remove the external traces of fatigue and misery that Chauvelin would undoubtedly seize upon and use against her. Over a week had elapsed since that horrible day and Marguerite anguish had increased with every passing moment. She feared for her brother�s safety, she lamented the lost of her love, and she yearned desperately to be free. To act, if possible, towards saving dear Armand or the marriage that lay in rumble at her feet. Her attempts at escape were half-hearted � tests as they were � but all too real reminders that she would only leave this estate at Percy�s orders... or in death. And the servants undoubtedly took great joy in seeing her set back in her place. Percy had probably given the order that she was to be brought back kicking and screaming if necessary, and they would be all too happy to oblige. But she still had her ace up her sleeve, she did indeed.

Dressed in simple green, she checked her appearance in the mirror and went to speak with her visitor. Why was Chauvelin here? She would have thought that Chauvelin would have noted her husband�s outrage and avoided returning to the point of a sword at his throat. Bracing herself for evasive maneuvers, Marguerite prepared to entered the red drawing room, noting that Edwards took his station in a seat opposite the door. She took a deep breath, forced a quaint smile upon her lips and swept in, making sure to leave the door open, least Chauvelin need an escourt to the door. �M. Chauvelin, I would have thought you would have taken my previous advice and avoided calling at such beastly hours,� Marguerite said, endeavoring to make the words sound playful. �I am truly surprised to find you calling here, M. Chauvelin. One does not normally expect a man to come calling to a house he was so forcefully ejected from. In England, I'm told, it�s bad form.�

Chauvelin stood when Marguerite came into the room. He could see a great attempt to hide her despair. She was dressed in green, recalling a fairy in her splendor but her lovely eyes told him volumes. She tried to be playful but her heart was broken. He ached to take her in his arms, to assure her that nothing in life was hopeless, that he would take care of her. How could a man lock up a star like her? It was a crime! He had also seen the petit prison that blaggard was keeping his wife in. The place had tighter security then La Force, the footman hovering at the door showed the fear Milord Englishman had of losing his wife. He thought here could be the wedge. Margot needed freedom; she'd not long stay in a cage. He recalled those happy days when she was mistress of her salon that was where she belonged, not here. And even if she had changed, become a spoiled Aristo, if she valued her brother's life or career, she'd help him in his mission. "Well, my friend, I felt it best I came as soon as possible. I had to for it appears that your brother's life could depend on it. In France , its worse form to allow that, I am told. Here, read this letter, another one has been given by this same anonymous person to the club thanks to your wonderful cousin who made sure everyone read it. I am afraid your position here as the wife of an aristocrat has cast great suspicion on him and he wants to prove himself by sacrificing his own blood. While no evidence has come to light, it's quite damaging to Armand. Here" he said, handing her the letter.

�� it appears that your brother's life could depend on it.� Marguerite paled, the smile vanishing. Looking into Chauvelin�s eyes, she knew he spoke in all seriousness. She had no idea that Armand was in such peril... had she she would have begged Percy to use his influence to bring Armand to England where he would be safe. Pride be damned! She would have implored Percy on her knees if only to let her go see dear Armand, to warn him. Chauvelin held a creased sheaf of paper, which she, some how, could not bring herself to take from him. �...another one has been given by this same anonymous person to the club thanks to your wonderful cousin who made sure everyone read it.� Antoine was involved! �I am afraid your position here as the wife of an aristocrat has cast great suspicion on him and he wants to prove himself by sacrificing his own blood.� He had never forgiven her for rejecting his advances, but to destroy Armand! It was a shaking hand that took the proffered letter.

�Antoine? Antoine is the one to denounce him?� she asked. It would all her strength and will to cross the room to a seat before she collapsed where she stood. Blinking away the tears that pressed her eyes, she read the letter. Breathing seemed a great effort. What actions had Armand undertaken that would raise suspicions against him? Armand was more sensible than that. �What is going to happen to him?� She felt as though her heart stopped, waiting for Chauvelin�s answer.

Chauvelin watched Marguerite pale. His heart ached, he didn't like hurting her like this. Well, this was a start, now she was under his power. He knew she was. "As far as I know, he hasn't been arrested, but it's only a matter of time until he is. I'll do my best to keep him out of prison but I don't even know what he was accused of. The other letter didn't say any charges. I think it's an unfounded accusation, stemmed by jealousy, but that letter and your title together is enough evidence to have him placed under questioning and once he's there, it will be hard for me do anything" he said, making sure she knew how precarious the situation was.

�...your position here as the wife of an aristocrat has cast great suspicion on him...�, �...your title� is enough evidence to have him placed under questioning...� Chauvelin was taking great pains to remind her that her choice to marry Percy was a major injury to Armand�s defense. And dear Percy wasn�t there to drive Chauvelin away this time, he wouldn�t be coming to her rescue. In fact it was he who kept her trapped here in impotent anxiety, desperate to aid her brother but caged like some exotic bird. Over a week and she had heard nothing from Armand or Percy, until this dreadful moment.

She glanced up at Chauvelin, attempting to appear ignorant of where his eyes roamed. This letter gave him leverage. For all his assertions of concern, she held in her hand the chain by which he could control her. His presence there indicated a price would be demanded. She shuddered at the thought of the price Chauvelin might demand for the continued safety of her brother. But in all truth there was no one else she could turn too. Percy had regretted marrying her and yet, for all the lengthy departures, for all the cruel, thoughtless words he hurled in her face, and despite all the times she asked herself why she had married such an uncaring fool, she had never regretted marrying Percy� until now. Besides the fact that the marriage might doom her dear brother, she was trapped � powerless to take action. Neither to save her or warn him... nor was she even able to see him.

She swallowed. �I suppose, you know of a way I can help my brother.�

Chauvelin nodded. He was almost angry, he had gone out of his way to help her and she...she seemed to hate him. He had always wanted the best for her, he had opened his heart to her and yet...she seemed above him. It irked him. Well, business first. "Indeed I do. A proof of your loyalty would do the ticket. There is a band of Englishmen who are placing a wrench in the wheels of justice. I ask you to help me remedy that. You are Lady Blakeney, you know everyone, and you can find out the names of the League of the Pimpernel and unmask him. Do that and I assure you, your brother will be safe, nay, hailed as a hero. I know you can do this. You were the greatest ally to us, surely we can call on you again" he said softly.

Again. Once more that foolish slip came back to haunt her. Was the murder of a family worthy of such praise? It was penance, not praise, that she hoped for for her role in the murder of St. Cyr and his kin. And it was entirely possible that she would never redeem herself of that crime. Now Chauvelin wanted more blood on her hands� this time the heads of a group of brave young men who risked their lives to save innocents from a horrifying end. Such men deserved praise, not betrayal!

Even if she were inclined to do so, there was little she could do trapped as she was. �What you ask is impossible! How can I �?� Marguerite stopped herself before she revealed to Chauvelin that she was a prisoner, that her husband didn�t trust her, and that it was likely that she would be deported for meeting with Chauvelin. She started again, �Even His Royal Highness, the Prince of Whales doesn�t know the identity of those men... how can I discover it? You�ve seen the distrust the English have for our people, how could I possibly unearth information they are not willing to share amongst their own kin and kind?�

Chauvelin�s expression darkened, chilling Marguerite to her very marrow. �Is my brother�s safety to hang on an impossibility?� She rose abruptly and crossed the room to the window, allowing him only a view of her back, least he should see the tears that rallied together and threatened to spill down her cheeks. Out the window she could see Jones cross the lawn to where Fielding stood watch, leaning against a tree. 11 o�clock . Seventeen minutes would mark the beginning of the eleventh day since last she saw Percy, since she had lost her freedom. Yet, despite his cruel treatment, Marguerite would have given almost anything for Percy to be standing beside her at that moment. �My brother is loyalty to the Revolution, he shouldn�t be punished for my foolishness,� Marguerite said after a time. Then a thought struck her � impossible, but worth a chance. She spun around on her heels and swept across the room to Chauvelin. �My brother works under you, and you yourself say that you believe the charges to be untrue... is it not possible for you to have him sent here to work under you at the embassy? You could keep a watch over him and see that he is loyal and safe...� She pleaded, face turned up to his, imploring.

Chauvelin watched Marguerite's behavior coldly, trying to resist the urge to take her into his arms and kiss her. He was justice, she was tempting him, the anger was the only barrier keeping him from breaking down entirely at this torture. She almost made him forget his service, her lovely tresses, aching to be caressed, her soft curves, her lovely eyes, she made him tremble with desire, denying him. She was a siren, she was a goddess, she was a Lillith, his Bath Sheba, his Esther, his Jezebel, he was thinking back to his more religious days. Blast! Look what she was doing to him, he was falling apart already. He kept a neutral expression. "It's no impossibility, I am sure you could discover it, you are the cleverest woman in Europe , and surely this would be child's play. Think of this as foxhunting, don't the English like that?" he said, watching her look out the window. When she turned back to him, his gaze softened somewhat. "That seems reasonable. I shall see what I can do there but I cannot make assurances. A traitor would not be allowed overseas, he could be in prison by the time I can deal with this but I shall make the request for you" he said, his gaze turning tender.

A small ray of hope. A sliver � but hope all the same. �I thank you and pray you proceed with all haste, Msr. Chauvelin!� Marguerite said in all sincerity, still looking up at him. �But I fear you forget the six feet of Baronet that stands between me and your request. You forget that this is a society that bears naught but contempt for our people.� How did Percy put it? �The fact that you are French is discomfort enough...� Did even he realize how deeply his words cut through her? How they tormented her? �My circumstances prohibit me from promising anything, but know that I would be willing to do anything that is in my power to save Armand. But you ask for that is beyond my abilities! You have the power to save a good and true servant of the Republic. I beg you to make all haste to preserve his precious life!�

The servants were starting to get nosy. Chauvelin could see they were curious to see what their mistress was saying, no doubt they were bribed by their master or someone else. He strode to the door and closed it with a boyish mischievous grin, watching anger manifest on their faces. "That's the benefit of a revolution, my friend, no nosy servants who won't allow old friends to talk in private" he said, turning back. He could see how distraught she was. All his anger drained again, damn, he was caught in her snare. He walked over, took her tiny hand and kissed it. "Margot, we must keep our heads, if Armand is to keep his. I said I would do all I can for him and I will, I swear it. If there is six feet of Baronet to stop you and his society to constrict you, then there is ten times the brain power in your left finger then in all of them. Armand will be saved! I say, between the two of us, we should have Armand hailed as a hero and the Pimpernel in the Consiegerie before long. I believe in your abilities, you can do anything, you were the toast of Paris, you knew everyone, you heard everything, surely the English aren't stupid enough to realize what a treasure you are?" he said.

Marguerite watched Chauvelin swept across the room and close the door � why would he...? The reality came crashing in. She had rashly told him she would be willing to do anything to save her brother and now he was preparing to take her up on her offer. Panic rose in her... could she bring herself to do it? If she did Percy would know the moment he returned, he would never forgive her... if he didn�t kill her first. Even if Chauvelin went no further it was likely that the story Edwards told Percy, and the rest of the Blakeney staff, would be damning. That vain, foolish belief that she held of reconciliation would be dashed to pieces. He might even send her back to France...

When Chauvelin returned to her side, he took her hand and kissed it, but did not release her hand. "Margot, we must keep our heads, if Armand is to keep his...� Chauvelin told her, moving closer to her. Unconsciously she moved back as Chauvelin moved forward, her chest tightening. If she rebuffed him Armand was damned, if not then she was. Back in her acting days, should a situation like this occur there were at least half a dozen men who would leap to her honor. She had the freedom to dismiss men such as Chauvelin without a thought, but marriage had stolen her freedom and loyalty had taken her choice. Her slow retreat came to a halt as her tight encountered the settle, Chauvelin�s advance did not. �Thank you, Msr. Chauvelin. But I fear you flatter me,� Marguerite said lightly, hiding her anxiety. �But I implore you to go and write to your colleagues before it�s too late.�

Chauvelin had not even realized he was backing her into a corner. "Already done, Margot. The moment I got that letter, I sent a reply asking to find out who would make such a spurious remark. I can't write for the transfer for a few days, it would look suspicious but I will, I promise, I will reunite you and Armand" he said. "I do not flatter you, in fact, mere words can't do you justice. Perhaps we should have had a tarriff, preventing gems like yourself from leaving..." he said softly and realized he was losing control again. "Has Armand indicated anything in his letters, any new friends, any new purchases? Anything you tell me will come out sooner or later, if we are to be his advocates, I need to know all" he said, turning the tone to business.

His tone had changed, but he remained close beside her. The proximity made her uncomfortable. His words had not been the words of a mere patriot, they were too... suggestive. Even Percy had noted how Chauvelin addressed her so familiarly, using a name she reserved for only those closest to her. Fear for Armand kept her from correcting him... oh god, what Percy must think! She wondered to it were Chauvelin�s intention to so ruin her reputation, it would do little to aid the revolution � if that was his goal. She swallowed and tried to control her breathing, while continuing to hide her fear and anxiety.

�No, he has mentioned nothing. He tells me of his studies, he mentions the new policies the National Assembly implement, not more than that.�

Chauvelin nodded. He needed to stake out the situation, he needed to know every angle. He didn't know why she held this spell over him. "Expressed a great desire to come to England ?" he asked. "This accusation can not have just sprung up out of the soil, something must have happened. Anything you can think of?" he asked.

Marguerite looked into Chauvelin�s eyes, trying to determine if he was truly interested in helping Armand, but found there such an intense expression of longing that she felt color rise to her cheeks. �No, Msr. Chauvelin, he has expressed no desire to come to England . In fact I sent a message to him imploring him to come visit me here in Richmond,� Marguerite said. �He has never visited my new home and I wanted him to see that my husband has provided an excellent home for me.� Her pulse was racing, Chauvelin had ceased advancing, but there were few places for her to retreat. She was trapped between Chauvelin and settle. If only Percy were here... �I have told you all I know.�

Chauvelin took a step forward. "All right, I think that's good, unless you're hiding something. I will concentrate on your brother, you, on the Pimpernel. I know this will work well" he said, drowning in her lovely eyes. He then leaned over and kissed her quickly. He could not believe he was doing this, it made him feel as if he was flying! "For good luck" he spattered and then bowed. "Um...I must go, I shall contact you the moment I have information. It will be a hard case and I think I am his only advocate, so I best start my work before another damning letter comes" he said hurriedly.

Marguerite remained motionless where she had stood, watching Chauvelin quickly depart. Only after she had heard his fading footsteps echoing along the hallway did she sink into a seat, bury her face in her hands and wept. She cursed herself for being powerless to put Chauvelin in his place when she would rather have had Edwards forcefully show her countryman the exit, for being powerless to nothing more than turn to Chauvelin to help Armand. Damn Percy for trapping her here! for leaving her so long! It was two weeks since she had seen him and no word from Armand! She wondered if the letter was sent. She would have to write Percy, beg him to withdraw his damnable order.

Chauvelin left the house, grinning openly, ignoring the servants' looks. He decided on the way home to purchase a cake, a doll, some books and hair ribbons for his little Fleurette. Today was a day to celebrate!

This thread is continued from Morning Comes

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