Chauvelin stood with his back to the large picture, backlight by the midmorning sun, which gave the illusion that he was much taller, larger. Powerful. But then, that was the point: he had all the power. He had deliberately stood with his back to the light so that he could study her expressions without revealing his own. �Do remember dear Armand,� he would remind her when she struggled against his propositions.

Marguerite squirmed uncomfortable in her seat, glanced at the door to the parlour, hoping for Sanders, or Jamieson, or whoever was standing guard at the door to come and intervene. If they were they to protect her, why do nothing when she needed them most? Then again how would they know? She had not cried out for help, Chauvelin had not touched her, all that disturbed the air of peaceful tranquility was Chauvelin�s �either�or�. Either she obeys or Armand dies. In an instant, Chauvelin was leaning over her, his face mere inches from hers and his breath hot against her cheek. She shrank back against the settle, trapped � no place to go. �Your hesitation baffles me,� Chauvelin said huskily. �I thought life was so important to you... it certainly was before...� He leaned further in, meaning to kiss her and she recoiled. No. It can�t play out this way...

She found herself now before the window and Chauvelin on the other side of the room, reclining in one of the red plush high-backed chairs, his hands folded together before him, yet even with this change in position his face was in shadow. Marguerite stared out the window into the garden, rather than look at Chauvelin. �You don�t understand...� she began without knowing where to finish. How could she make him understand � he who had no regard for life?

�What don�t I understand?� The voice was not Chauvelin�s. Marguerite turned to see Percy sitting before her, regarding her from under half closed eyelids, looking down on her, his _expression bland, his voice chilling cold. He was dazzling in a suit of ice blue silk, set against the red flocked wallpaper. Where Chauvelin was the shadow, Percy was the light � but what a cold light it was.

�There are so many things you don�t understand,� she told him. �I recoiled from marriage for so long, for the same reason I became an actress � freedom. A freedom men take for granted because it is their by right of gender. And I paid the price for that small bit of freedom. Then you come and win your way into my heart, quite against my better judgment. Not because of your wealth or your position, not because of your attire or the tokens you promise, but in spite of them.� She came to kneel before him, trying to read the reaction of her words in his eyes. �We are so much alike, you and I. Both longing for freedoms denied us, both facing contempt and scorn because we set our course down a different path. You have a good, beautiful heart. You are capable of being so much more than you are, if only you would see it. You don�t understand how much I love you, how deeply your apathy injures me. I gave up everything to be with you, I trusted you, and placed my life in your hands, and yet you would take away what little freedoms I had.� She stopped herself there. If she began to list the wrongs he had done her he would take the defensive and walk away again. If she could make him understand, then there was hope of reconciliation. �I thought you of all people would understand how much I gave up for you... but I cannot give up Armand. He would not give me up.�

�Is that the reason for your visits with you little inspector?� Percy said peevishly. She sensed his resolve weakening, but the injury to his heart was not one he could so easily forgive. He still couldn�t trust her.

�Chauvelin comes to me with ultimatums,� she told him. �The extent of our relationship is one of guilt. He holds the power of life and death and dangles those options before me. You think my betrayal of Saint-Cyr was an act of malice, that is where your mistrust stems. No malice would tempt me to take the life of another. It was an accident, I did not know what the letter contained, nor did I intend for it to come into Chauvelin�s hands... if I knew consequences of my actions then, I would have given my own life to take that moment back.� She rested her head against his shoulder. �I wish you could understand... I wish you could understand that I love you, but I must go save Armand. Life is the only way I can wash away the blood that stains my hands.�

She felt his hand on her shoulder - she had gotten through! �Marguerite... Marguerite... Marguerite! Wake up!�

Marguerite�s eyes fluttered open and saw Filippa kneeling over her, shaking her arm lightly. Marguerite blinked in confusion before remembering where she was. It had been a dream, it pained he to think that if she'd been so honest with him from the start, things would have ended differently.

She heard voices in the other room and sensed Filippa�s urgency. She sat up wearily, staring at the bundle of clothes Filippa was pressing into her arms. �You must have been exhausted,� Filippa said, �which is why I let you sleep so long, but everyone is coming in now and it�s best if you�re not seen here. I took the liberty of finding some clothes that are in your size.�

Marguerite mumbled her thanks and proceeded to change into the garments Filippa provided. �How long was I sleep?�

�Almost four hours.�

Marguerite stumbled as she stepped into her skirt, turned to Filippa, horrified. �What time is it?�

�Nearly three.�

�Dear god! I am to meet with Chauvelin at four,� she exclaimed as she hurriedly pulled on the garments. Filippa stepped forward to help her with her lacings. Marguerite quickly kissed the girl on both cheeks, collected her things and flew the Comedie. While she was certain Chauvelin wouldn�t kill Armand because of her tardiness, it still was unwise to aggravate the little inspector so long as Armand was in his clutches. Half running, Marguerite made her way to La Force. There would be no time to check in with Ad�la�de or M. Leon to see what came of her letter. She run as long as she could manage, thank goodness she was not confined by bone crushing stays or she wouldn�t have last more than fifty steps. As it was she when she arrived it was just after four and Chauvelin�s man was standing near the entrance waiting for her.

Perhaps, Chauvelin would be forgiving enough to let her see Armand again.

Once again, as she followed Beaucarnot through the prison, Marguerite was overwhelmed by the thought that she would not be able to leave this place again. Perhaps it was the inhabitants or the building itself that conjured this atmosphere of bitter despair that disheartened Marguerite. Simple to fathom considering that most of the prisons current population would be dead within the next week, if not by the guillotine then by the mob that was queuing up to have their revenge on the aristos that once lorded over them. Seeing them now, that revenge was more than satisfied.

Beaucarnot led up a staircase and halfway down a corridor, nudging her towards the third door on her left, which appeared to be an office of sorts and beside the table at the far end of the room rested Chauvelin � stretched out in a chair with his feet up. The picture of calm relaxation, which unnerved Marguerite all the more. Chauvelin was not the type to rest when there was work to be done, in fact she had never seen him at his leisure. It was a sort of confident relaxation that made her feel outmatched, outmaneuvered. Beaucarnot abruptly rapped on the door right behind her head, a nasty attempt to unsettle her � it worked. Chauvelin sat up, looking eerily composed and superior, motioning her to a seat.

�I�ve been told you�ve been up to mischief, Lady Blakeney.�

Marguerite blinked at him innocently, wondering just how much he knew and how much was a ploy to get her to reveal herself. �Hardly mischief. You know I wouldn�t do anything to bring my brother to harm,� she replied. �I suppose that gentleman following me this morning was your man? I took him for a stalker, which is why it is easy to see why I would want to lose him quickly. I spent most of the day finding ways to while away the time until this meeting. You have proven that the only way Armand will live is by your whim.�

For her protection! A vile excuse for stealing another�s freedoms. Marguerite was only too familiar with that particular justification for locking her away from the world. In fact, the greatest obstacles in her life were men who were of the opinion that they acted for her protection, those who claimed that they did not to want to see her hurt were the very same who struck the deepest blows.

However, she knew eventually that Chauvelin would not be content to let her have the run of Paris, even if she did wish it was later. She had hoped to hear whether young Leon had delivered her note, and yet now she could be closer to Armand. She could care for him or comfort him until the end � if her messages were received Chauvelin might never catch his quarry. �And if he is not? How long will you wait to murder us both?�

Marguerite was not so big a fool to buy into Chauvelin�s lies, but she had to concede. She would play his game as long as it kept Armand alive or until he was free. She did not understand the need for this deception when he held all the cards. �If possible I would prefer to stay with my brother, Armand,� she asked. He is in need of nursing and I sincerely doubt your physician will wish to stay the night with him.�

Marguerite blinked in confusion as Chauvelin caught a hold of her arm and propelled her out the door and in the direction opposite of where Armand was keep. Had they moved him, in his condition? she thought in horror, then Chauvelin's words sank in: 'There is a coach at the ready to take us there.'

Chauvelin planned to drag her Lord knows where without letting her seen her brother one last time. He might perish without ever knowing that she had been there, without knowing how far she'd come to help him... only to fail. She stopped dead in her tracks and Chauvelin, who has not sensed her action, jerked her arm roughly before turning to confront her. "What about Armand? I will perish of worry for him, if you don't let me see him. Grant me this and I shall go with you without argument. If... if there is any chance, perhaps he might see me and hear my voice and find the strength to fight for life knowing that I am not so far away." She was playing the part of the helpless maiden, the part most men assume of women that held their interest, for whom they could shine. She had guess Chauvelin had always wanted to play the part of her hero, did he still?

Marguerite was too grateful for the opportunity to see Armand, that she never considered what Chauvelin�s motive might be for granting it. At least she could see for herself whether or not he was getting better. It would give her the strength to go on, to hold her peace when dealing with Chauvelin, and most importantly to hope.

It took little time to get there, the room Chauvelin had taken over wasn�t far from Armand�s cell. The little man who had accompanied them before once again followed, with a set of precious key jangling at his side. Chauvelin didn�t need to bid him to unlock and open the door, it was done automatically. Once open Marguerite hurried in and felt her heart sink as she saw Armand once again lying in the pile of hay in the corner. She closed her eyes and sent a short prayer to heaven before crossing the room and kneeling beside her brother. Ever so gently she lifted his head and rested in her lap, brushing away sweat dampen locks of hair from his face. �Armand... Armand, can you hear me?�

The room grew lighter as Chauvelin entered bearing a lanthorn. There would be no way to convey anything she wished Chauvelin not to know, but at least she could see his face better, pale and waxy as it was. The doctor wasn�t able to do much. She caught a hold of the hand lying across his chest and pressed the back of it to her lips and then, is if by some magic his eyes fluttered open. She gasped in surprised � oh thank god! He looked up into her eyes, his hand moved to brush tendering across her skin, wiping away the tears she had not realized were there.

Armand was struggling to speak and Marguerite placed a gentle finger over his lips. She could read what he had to say in his eyes. �You must save your strength, darling,� Marguerite stroked his pallid cheek with the back of her hand, in her other was his hand, which was cold and limp. He hadn�t much strength left, hadn�t much time left. �I have petitioned our old friends for help, but none will risk their necks as we had for them only a few years ago. Chauvelin... Chauvelin said he will release you as soon as the Scarlet Pimpernel is captured. I.. I�m sorry to say I�ve helped him in his hunt...� Armand�s eyes widened in horror. �... It was for you, Armand! I could not let you die!�

She saw disappointment in his eyes � anger � and she struggled to explain. �I warned him,� she whispered. �I knew you would not want him to die and so I had sent warnings. I pray he heeds them.� She didn�t need to say what the warnings cost her, cost them both. She had assigned them both to death and yet she could not know what Armand knew � that the Scarlet Pimpernel would not let them die. Either way this ended in tragedy. Their deaths or his.

So soon? They had scarcely been together five or ten minutes and already Chauvelin was prying them apart. Armand, in a show of surprising strength held onto his sister, as if defying Chauvelin to pull her away. But Armand stood no chance against Chauvelin, he couldn't even stand up on his own. �It will be alright, darling,� she assured him. �You must save your strength. If you wish to help me you must think of yourself, you must stay alive.�

She kissed his forehead tenderly, then helped him to lay back on the hay before rising to her feet. Perhaps the hint was none to subtle, but it needed to be said. If the opportunity to escape presented itself, she wanted him to take it. She was prepared for this sacrifice since the beginning, before she left England. If at all possible Armand must live.

From the door, she couldn�t hear what Chauvelin was saying to Armand, she could only imagine the threats the little man was pouring in her brother�s ear. It was not like he was in any condition to defy Chauvelin and even she was coming to believe her pleas were not what convinced Chauvelin to grant this audience. Once again she was to be a tool. Even as she thought of returning to her brother�s side, her whole body listing forward in preparation to rush into the room, the man call Beaucarnot barred her way with an arm across door.

A smug Chauvelin emerged a moment later, grabbed her by the arm, and marched her quickly down the corridor. She practically jogged along side Chauvelin as he spitefully reprimanded her. �You brought this on yourself. You betrayed me and in the process your brother as well.�

�You are a fine one to speak of betrayal, citoyen!� Marguerite retorted furiously. �You claim friendship with my brother and abuse that friendship. You claim you wish to help me, but this is all a lie! You are using us both to destroy a better man than any I�ve known for your own greater glory. Where�s the honor in that?� With each accusation she felt Chauvelin grip tighten, his pace quicken, and an occasional rough jerk when she fell behind. It was foolish, she knew, to bait him so, but her anger was fuelled by his own. �Did you even have any real evidence against Armand or did you betray him to insure my co-operation?�

As they proceeded from one room to the next, guards snapped to attention at the sight of Chauvelin and there was the occasional murmur of the prison�s in-mates. As they approached the entrance, Marguerite thought Chauvelin in his anger, might run them into the doors, but one of the nearest guards dashed in to throw it open in time. The carriage she had seen earlier was standing at the ready along with half a dozen armed soldiers to serve as escourt. The sky was now dark and the air chilly. Beaucarnot stepped forward to open the carriage door.

Marguerite was uncomfortably sandwiched between the two soldiers, while Beaucarnot languidly stretched out in the seat opposite her, obviously taking some pleasure in her discomfort. He clearly enjoyed the power his held, abused it, as those it were a rare privilege. The cabin was hot and stuffy from the crush of bodies, as the coach jounced over cobblestones. Curiously, Marguerite leaned forward to look out the lone open window, softly lit from behind, she had a feeling they were traveling north and hoped to recognize a street. Beaucarnot leaned over in response to pull down the shutter and plunge them into darkness.

Marguerite slouched back in her seat, folding her arms over her chest to avoid them being bruised by the elbows or her escourts. She closed her eyes and thought of Armand. Chauvelin knew the power he wield with Armand, past experience showed she would do nearly anything to protect him. It was scarcely over a year ago that she had left in the middle of a performance after news Armand had been attacked reached her. Trouble seemed to follow Armand and then was no exception. �You must come quickly, your brother�s been injured.� Henshaw had delivered the dread news, assuring her that Sir Percy was with him - how badly was he hurt? She remembered sitting huddled in a dark coach, much like this one, felting hopeless and desperate � just as she felt now.