There and Back Again

[Deleted]

There and Back Again or The Return of Sir Percy Blakeney and His Beautiful Wife, Lady Marguerite Blakeney, to the Blakeney Manor

Armand St. Just
There he was, in the Blakeney Manor, the sole member of the League left behind in England, attending to the more mundane tasks such as running the household, enjoying parties, and explaining that his "foppish" brother-in-law and sister were enjoying their nth honeymoon. Surrounded by the idyllic lush green, Armand St. Just ought to be feeling some calm. Instead, he was pacing constantly. He glanced at the clock, addressed the servants and the housekeeper's questions about what he would have for lunch, dinner, and etcetera, and glared questioningly at the horizon, asking the currently-unanswerable question of why he was doing this.

Armand contemplated the scenario that he was in. It was peculiar that he be the one left in England whilst his sister and brother-in-law, the happy married couple, would be roaming the streets of France. Was it because of his recent failures? Did he fail to deliver? Would his skills as a messenger (of sorts) be now useless? He was worried- could he be unproductive? He loathed the idea of that. If he could do absolutely nothing, then what kind of a brother, what kind of a citizen, what kind of a comrade would he be? He desired, most of all, to make amends for what he had done in the past (he became Chauvelin's bait/hostage in trying to call out the Scarlet Pimpernel, nearly costing Sir Percy and Margot's lives). Maybe it was because he always got in the way? Was he the weak point, the one who gets all of them into trouble?

He glanced again at his pocket watch. It was nine in the morning. That could not be right... He just ate lunch! The device was not working as efficiently as it should-- just like he was. Armand returned it to his coat pocket. When would they come back again?, he thought. He sat himself on one of those wooden-backed chairs in the parlour, picked up his journal (the peculiar one with "Of Women and Wine" embossed in gold on the cover), and started writing. He could feel time pass- slowly yet surely. Oh, when would they arrive?

[SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]609 WORDS FOR MARGO, ARMAND To love your wife, frightfully unfashionable. ODDSFISH! [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;] They’d left the fisherman’s rest shortly after dawn; Percy had been restless throughout most of the night and had risen early, waiting for the sun to rise in the cold tavern rooms below. The memories the old inn held for him were great, he had spent many a fleeting hour lurking in the rooms passing messages on to the league in the attempt to save his French friends across the channel. It was in those very rooms Chauvelin had waited; hoping to catch the Pimpernel, but all he had found was the biggest fool in England. He played his roles well, and often wondered if Margot had found her match as an actress in him. Oh Sir Percy played many roles…the gentlemanly fop, the fool, the leader and among those were also the spice peddlers, the washer women, and the plague ridden peasants. It seemed, however he was about to play the biggest role of his life…the father. It had taken some time for him to notice the symptoms, his mind had been elsewhere, making grand plans and reliving his glory days. It was no secret that Sir Percy was extremely vain and he protected his reputation as the Scarlet Pimpernel with all he could muster. The mission had meant a lot to him; it stretched his mind in ways it had not been stretched in a long time. The years between the revolutions had been peaceful, but he yearned for adventure and the satisfaction of helping those he could, but how could he have been so foolish? So besotted with challenges that France presented him, he hadn’t noticed the secret his wife had been hiding. He’d been fully aware of the hardships his wife had struggled with when it came to carrying a child. It had started with promise and the expectations of new life, but with the passing years that hope had dwindled, and slowly the candle had extinguished. He recalled long nights holding his wife, praying that everything would work out, but with each passing month he could sense the despair behind her eyes. Rather than wallow in his anxiety, he’d begun to spend more time playing cricket and badminton with his closer friends, doing all he could to avoid the sadness that had gripped them. It has been almost a blessing when Percy caught wind of the rebellions, and had been commissioned with seeking out the Lady Helene De Rochambeau and returning her safely to England. The journey back to Blakeney Hall was arduous at best; he’d not spoken, instead preferring to charge his bays forward down the winding routes to his home. He held many questions, but the anger and fear that consumed him made him refrain, he already made his thoughts known to his wife the previous evening and she’d confirmed his suspicions. The conversation that had followed remained hazy to Percy, his mind had been clouded and for once in his life words had escaped him, but not now. ‘Damnation Margot!’ he exclaimed, breaking the silence between them, ‘why on earth would you risk such a journey!’ he demanded staring into her eyes for a moment before, making his way swiftly into the building, not waiting for an explanation. The butler greeted Percy at the door, stooping low he took Percy coat as he gruffly looked around the hall, I trust Sir Percy had a pleasant trip? He asked. ‘Deuce take it!’ Percy responded ignoring the butlers question he turned to find Margot, ‘you’ve been impulsive! Melodramatic! And utterly ineffectual! Do you know what you’ve risked?’ he asked his voice rising an octave or two, his words ringing around the entrance hall. [/style]

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[Deleted]

[sizAh, the glorious sensation of sitting in a carriage with the wind in her face! But she knew that it would not last. The majority of the ship's journey back from the continent had been uneventful and uncomfortable, until... Until Percy had realized at a particular moment – perhaps more slowly leading up to it, and then suddenly – that she was with child. There had been discussion. Discussion and arguing. Mostly arguing. But so it had finally come out, her great secret. And the good news was that she was far enough along now that she was no longer in as much fear of a miscarriage, since her friend had told her that those normally occurred earlier. That had not been enough to alleviate Percy's fears, which she had to assume were why he was so upset about the whole thing. He always hated her going along on his Pimpernel-related endeavors, she knew, because he was worried about her endangering herself. And now she had endangered their child. But it was over now, and all was well.

But, it seemed that some arguments with Percy were never over. It had only been a day, and he had claimed bad memory, but he had not forgotten his ire. He seemed to have forgotten that they had already shouted some of the same things. Perhaps going over them again would improve things, or at least allow her husband to work himself out. Picking up her skirts, she followed behind Percy, close on his heels in spite of his brisk pace, which was becoming more difficult to keep up with. Her abdomen was swelling noticeably, and her breaths seemed to be getting shorter along with her steps. She managed a mere smile for the butler before turning to her husband, one eyebrow raised.

“Utterly ineffectual! How can you say such things when I was an instrumental part of the mission which you would have failed wholly and pathetically without my assistance!” Alright, that most likely was not entirely true... but she was not about to admit that to him, not now that she had her hackles raised. It was normally amusing to argue with Sir Percy more than it was actually upsetting; however, on this occasion, she was feeling more than perhaps Percy might have anticipated. Dangerous trips always carried much emotion, and she had risked very much. But now there were hormones kicking in. Even though she knew that she had been wrong to go along on the mission while expecting a child, aware that she was expecting a child, she wasn't going to let Percy know that he was right. Otherwise, she would never get to do anything again. Well. He could hardly stop her forcibly.

She glared at him. “Of course I know what I've risked, better than you do. But if I had not gone with you, I would have risked so much more. I would have saved nothing but your pride, damnable as it is!” She gave him a light shove, still scowling, before remembering that they were not alone, and that their rising voices had probably been overheard. Giving Percy a pointed look, she moved, skirts swishing, into the parlor. One hand hovered over the rise beneath her dress, more instinctively than to consciously cover it. “Armand?”

[Deleted]

Armand St. Just
"Sister!" Armand exclaimed as he stood from his position. He immediately dropped his journal on the ground, and rushed to embrace her, but stopped. "Why do you seem so distraught, Margot?..." he asked. "I heard you and Sir Percy arguing... Is there anything the matter? Please tell me the matter and I shall do all my best to help you." Armand was worried indeed. If there was something wrong between his sister and her husband, he would have to take sides. On one hand, it was his dearest Margot, who had been with him through thick and thin- his sister as well as his own mother and father. On the other, though, it was Sir Percy Blakeney, his friend and savior. He owed his life to both of them, but given that he could not even understand the situation, he could not even make a decision.

He had been wishing that the return would be a happy one, seeing that the mission would have been successfully completed, and that everyone would be together in the relative safety and comforts of Blakeney Manor. Perhaps all was his fault, had he been more perceptive of anything that could have affected either his sister or brother-in-law maybe this dilemma could have been averted.

Some thoughts of why the argument could have started flitted through his head. He remembered what had happened before-- Margot kept the facts of the St. Cyr's execution from her husband, thus incurring his displeasure. He wondered what Sir Percy could have done on his part...Did he risk his life again? But that was what he had always done as the Scarlet Pimpernel... Armand pondered more, but all his inferences remained as such. He had to know!

"Margot", he started. "Have you been keeping anything from Sir Percy? Or did he wrong you?" Armand was ready to shake his sister, but noticed, among the many things, the dark rings under her eyes and the small bump forming on her belly. "Oh, oh... Oh!" He finally noticed. "Sister, you are... you are?..."

[SIR PERCIVAL BLAKENEY]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]392 WORDS FOR MARGO, ARMAND To love your wife, frightfully unfashionable. ODDSFISH! [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;] Percy ignored his wife’s attempts at appeasing him, as he removed his driving gloves from his hands and passed them to Fisher his butler, he rolled his eyes at her words. It wasn’t her job to try to save the missions, she was his home and if anything happened to her he wasn’t sure if he’d have the strength to fight for others. He’d almost lost her once before and he had sworn to himself he would never go back to that point. ‘Fisher, could you please send for the doctor’ Percy said with slightly calmer tones, while Margot paused for breath. Women were truly insufferable creatures, but Percy was certain the reason his wife was so demmed stubborn was because she was French and look at what trouble they’d got themselves into. ‘Stop your bellowing Madame!’ Percy responded as she called for Armand ‘this aint one of your French farmyards…Armand will know soon enough’ Percy called after her as she exited the entrance hall. ‘Oh and Fisher could you please deliver these? They are urgent’ Percy said pulling from his jacket pocket a small pile of letters. Of course sir, ‘Thank you Fisher’ Percy responded dismissing him and following Margot into the parlour. ‘Ah Armand’ Percy said as he strolled into the parlour to see Margot and Armand mid reunion, ‘perhaps you can talk some sense into your sister’ he said nonchalantly as he made his way to the small drinks cabinet he kept there. He slowly began to pour himself a drink, his back turned to Margot and Armand he took a sip, fighting with the annoyance inside of him. How could he have been so demmed foolish? Lud Man! He should have seen the signs, but he had been so distracted with the League, with the St-Cyr women that he’d not noticed the small changes in his wife. When he thought about her traveling those long journeys, over the rocky roads on horseback in her condition he felt truly wretched. Why did she keep it from him? Why risk so much? He could have had her safely on the Daydream at a moment’s notice, but she’d chosen to stay by his side. Why… ‘She’s been impulsive, irrational and disregarded all sense of decorum. Lud! What if you’d got hurt Margot!’ Percy said turning to meet her gaze once more. [/style]

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[Deleted]

It was unwise to make her cross at this stage. "I am aware!" she hissed in response to her husband. "If I were in France, I should be treated with much greater decorum than you have shown, sir!" She had not called all that loudly for her brother. And if anyone was bellowing, it was Percy. As he always did. "Yet how like a rooster you are, crowing and preening, giving no thought to his mate." This was said in a lower tone, as the brother who she had heard calling to her appeared. His many questions required all her attention.

"I am not distraught," Marguerite insisted primly; "merely justifiably angered." She was an actress, and she knew how someone truly distressed would behave. "Percy argues with me all day long, and part of the evenings." Waving a hand, she dismissed his worries, before giving him a smile. "You are a darling though to worry for me." There was a difference, of course, between worrying for someone and attempting to run their life to keep them safe - something that, being married to Sir Percival Blakeney, was nigh impossible anyway. Growing up, she and Armand had always given each other pretty free reign. When they did get into trouble, they endeavored to help each other out of it. That was all. No measure of control. And Margo was still convinced (perhaps incorrectly, but she would never admit it) that it had been better for her to be with Percy. She had talked him out of a few bad situations, and she had not died. The evidence was clearer than ever now with the growing swell of her abdomen that her unborn child was safe and healthy as well.

This, Armand noticed after only a moment of alarm. He would ngt have had to be very astute to do so. She sighed and smiled, like she was already a long-suffering mother, with a good-natured smile towards her brother. "I am with child, yes," she confirmed. Taking his hand, she pressed it gently, as if to reassure him. As if he had more reason to fear than she did. But after a few months, she had come to terms with all of it. Granted, the actual labor and delivery part would be... hellish. No sugar-coating that. She would just cross that bridge when she came to it. "And I did hide it from Sir Percy, in a fashion. For a while, I wasn't certain, and even when I was, he was far too busy to speak with me about it. I could hardly travel back to England alone at such a time."

This was directed to Percy pointedly. "I don't need a physician, or any more sense, Percy!" she continued. "It is true I might have been hurt, but as you see, I am not. You did not marry a shrinking violet. I could hardly stay here and be ignored all the more!" There was a time Percy had given her more attention, or she would not now be in her condition. But then the League beguiled him once more. Adventure was still exciting and romantic, but she was feeling miffed all the same that it took him away, in body if she was not with him, and in mind even if she was.

[Deleted]

Armand St. Just
"I am no medical expert... But, please, calm down-both of you. Stressed mothers often face the risk of miscarriage, and stressed fathers make stressed mothers. Past is past, don't you think?" Armand suggested, trying to reconcile the two. He could not bear arguments, this one particularly more so, since it involved two of his most beloved people. He tried to smile cheerfully.

"Don't you think that we should have some sort of preparation to welcome the baby? I should say-- we must fix a room and have some clothes prepared before his birth. And a great party the day after! We must celebrate this great news! You wouldn't want the child to be born in a world where his parents would be fighting incessantly about this old matter. Besides, do you think it's a boy or a girl? Sorry, I have been assuming too much, probably. And congratulations! I do believe I should have said that first." Armand was conscious that perhaps he had spoken too much, but still, he would rather hear his own voice prattling than feel the tension of the air.

"Personal advice on these kinds of matters: wait until later. This is not soup- we can have it cold. Although I certainly admit, Margot, what you have done was rather risky. You should have called for me instead. I would be glad to look after Sir Percy for you. I would also write if it happens that he becomes too busy to." Armand proposed. He immediately called down one of the servants of the house, asked that they bring something for their master and mistress to eat, then picked up the journal he had left behind, seating himself on the chair he stood from just moments ago.