Inside the party, Cosette and Will made their way through the crowds. It was hard to get from one side of the room to the other without being stopped to exchange pleasantries and remark on something or other with whomever had stopped them. As with many other things that night, it was a well rehearsed routine that both knew well.

Thankfully, they made it across the room unscathed and in a relatively quick time.

"How is your sister these days?" Cosette enquired, as they finally reached the edge of the crowd.

"Rose? She's doing well," Will beamed proudly. "She now boasts to know French and Italian fluently, and enjoys the fact she can now beat me at chess."

"I'm glad to hear it. That sounds like her."

Rose was almost the same age as Thomas, and like Thomas, she was remarkably similar to her other sibling. Despite being younger than Will, Rose was just as mischievous and as intelligent. She was fortunate enough, though, to have the remarkable gift of an innocent and demure face meaning she was often able to remove herself from any awkward situations. It was hard to blame her for anything, even when she was caught red-handed.

"I will have to visit her again soon. It has been too long."

"She'd like that," Will murmured softly, smiling wider with the invitation. "I would like that too, very much."

"I am glad to hear it."

"You can not be surprised by it, considering you practically live at ours," Will jibed affectionately. "Just as I seem to constantly find myself riding over to your estate."

"True," Cosette remarked, and it was. Ever since their infancy, their parents had passed on their intimate relationship to their children. All of society knew the Blakeneys' and the Ffoulkes' to be inseparable, and that they therefore naturally spent a remarkable amount of their time hosting one another for occasions of all kinds. It was inevitable then, that Cosette and Will should become so close. Cosette considered Will and Rose to be family in all but name, and Ffoulkes Manor a second home considering all the year she had spent with both. She would not have had it any other way. "But one of these days, Will, I fear we shall not be able to hide behind each other's company, and we shall be forced to actually socialise like a proper lord and lady."

"Oh? Are we not socialising?" Will mused, lifting an eyebrow as he did. "And what do you mean that we hide behind each other?"

"Is that not why you came to me earlier and relieved me of your father, and Tony's, company?"

Will laughed his usual charming laugh. "I was saving my father from his responsibilities," he teased mischievously. "I thought I would attempt to stop you from dancing with our red-headed friend Baron Hugo. He has two left feet and is a terrible partner."

"That is harsh Will, even for you and as it is I have not seen you dance all evening."

"What can I say? Earlier on my dear mother tried to make me dance with one of the Lady Alice's daughters," came his swift reply. "Since then I have been trying to avoid dancing of any kind, except with you of course."

Cosette paused in thought. "I thought that Bethany and Brigella could dance?"

"Last I was informed, dancing did not involve ending up with broken limbs," he informed her, prising between people slowly. They both watched for a moment the crowds that surged in front of them.

"I must say that I rather sympathise with them."

"Oh?"

"For I know how tiring and tedious dancing is, and I would run from the prospect of dancing with you," Cosette sighed, swatting his arm playfully. "I have seen you before. I think you broke the vase in the sitting room."

"I only dance when forced, but with my mother that is nearly every time," he chuckled. "And if I remember right, it was you who broke that vase. I valiantly took the blame when we were caught by your old housekeeper."

It was then Cosette laughed too. How could she forget such a day? "As always, you were - and continue to be - my guardian angel."

"You know me too well 'Settie… apologies… I mean Lady Blakeney."

"Don't be ridiculous Will, you and I will always address each other as we have done since we were children. I sincerely hope there shall never be any false formality between us," she stated firmly.

"I am most happy to swear to that," Will beamed proudly in response.

It was at that moment as well that a conveniently timed attendant strode past, a tray of refreshment in his hand. Will took two glasses, handing Cosette her own as he lifted his into the air.

"Here's to our friendship and our continued good health," he said jovially as he tapped his own glass to hers.

Once they had consumed the claret, Cosette smirked. "Goodness, Will. You are as incorrigible as always."

"I always say the best way to enjoy oneself at a ball is to make merry with wine, especially if there is to be dancing. Speaking of the latter, I hear the musicians tuning their instruments for the next set, and I do believe you owe me my dance."

He took hold of her hand and began to lead her to the dance floor, but Cosette made no movement to follow him. Instead, she beamed him a crooked smile. "Sir, I am terribly afraid you must wait a moment," she said sweetly. "You are not yet at liberty to engage me."

Will sensed her playfulness. "I thought we weren't going to stand on etiquette Cosette, must I now formally ask you for this dance?"

"Oh no, you must merely allow me to write your name on my dance card," replied Cosette as she reached into her purse and fished out the small card and pencil. She smoothly started penning his name into various empty rows, before displaying her work to him.

"Three dances? I see you are quite determined to have me worn out. Have no fear though, I will be up to the competition if you are."

As it was the music had just finished, and people were hurrying to exchange partners and take their positions for the next set. With a last nod between them, they drew out towards the floor and took a position of their own amongst the numerous couples.

Will took her hand and they took a step together. Soon enough the music began to speed up and the two of them danced with as much decorum as they could muster.

"See, you dance better than you thought," Will murmured as they finally came to the end of their dances.

Cosette curtsied, and was about to reply but was halted by the sound of nearby voices.

A young woman, no older than her, stood a few feet away leaning against a large marble pillar set against the long eastern wall. Immediately it became apparent who she was, more so as she turned and smiled directly at Cosette in recognition.

"Elizabeth?" she cheered startled.

Lady Elizabeth Treville was one of her oldest and dearest friends; They had known each other since before either one of them could remember. So, it was at many a social gathering like this one; that they found themselves drawn to one another.

Elizabeth had beautiful hair that was a deep brown, like the trees outside, and she had an enviable face, which she always complemented with fitted gowns of immense beauty (and value). She was also French and seemed to have a tendency to attract much attention from the dear other sex- Gentlemen could be rather stupid in Cosette's opinion. They seemed to have the intellectual and emotional capabilities of silverware. That was probably why Elizabeth took such pleasure taunting them; making them all run like lapdogs desperate for her deepest affections.

"Cosette Blakeney, how good to see you again." Elizabeth rushed forward eagerly, embracing her friend in an affectionate embrace. "And William Ffoulkes, as well. I really am honoured tonight."

"Elizabeth," Will greeted warmly, trying not to smile at her sarcastic tone. "Looking lovely as always."

"Thank you, William." Her tone was as smooth as silk as she smiled at him affectionately. She was almost purring as she reached for Cosette's hand and asked, "do you mind if I steal your partner away for a few minutes or so? I have not had the pleasure of her company for far too long, and we ladies have dark secrets that need confessing to one another. I wouldn't burden you with them, and besides, we can't have you monopolising her."

Cosette turned to him, her expression apologetic even if a laugh escaped her lips. "I hope you'll forgive me for a moment, Will?"

"Always," Will nodded, looking honestly relieved as he bowed. Elizabeth Treville was a rather intimidating figure at the best of times, especially when in the company of her friends. With that he turned, leaving them to talk.

Cosette laughed airily at another of Elizabeth's jokes and carefully linked arms as they strolled together. Cosette was glad of Elizabeth's company.

"I do say that you haven't danced a single set with anybody tonight except Sir William," remarked Elizabeth slyly fanning herself, causing Cosette to frown and sigh.

"I don't dance and you know that," she scolded gently "In fact, I just told William that."

"Because you can't dance or won't dance?" Elizabeth pried, causing Cosette to smile mischievously.

"Neither. I merely find it tedious to throw oneself around the room in these ridiculous dresses and shoes," she explained to her companion.

"Come now, I am only teasing you. You are a fine dancer and what's more, there are plenty of young gentlemen in need of a partner this summer evening."

"Now you jest. For whom would I dance with? None are remotely tolerable and all far too big-headed for their own good," she sighed leaning against a large marble pillar. "Besides, Will and I have an understanding that prevents us from having to dance with other more questionable characters."

"Such as that man over there?" Elizabeth pondered, suddenly glancing over her friend's shoulder. Cosette could not help but turn sharply with her, eyes gazing through the crowds. "I do not want to alarm you, but there is a very ill-looking fellow over there who has been staring at you since the start of the dance. Do you know who he is?" Elizabeth gestured to their left with a slight shift of her head.

Cosette glanced over in the direction highlighted and inhaled sharply. Her heart involuntarily fluttered as her line of sight connected with the menacing glare of a gentleman she had never seen before.

He was stood back from the dancing area but one could hardly miss his tall and commanding black visage. The only splash of colour in his entire appearance was the faint streaks of grey that lined his hair.

His hands were clasped together tightly behind his back and that face looked decidedly displeased. His eyes too were most decidedly focused across the room and on her, making Cosette suddenly feel remarkably uncomfortable.

Whoever could he be? And why was he staring?

"I haven't the foggiest clue who that man is." Cosette paused, looking back at Elizabeth and tried to regain her previous composure. "Well, if we are to speak of interested parties, I must say that Lord Harold seems rather intent on you this fine evening."

"What makes you say that?" she demanded raising a lofty eyebrow. The man was the latest to set his eyes on the dashing lady and somehow seemed unable to understand she was not interested in his wooing.

"Because he is coming this way."

"Oh, and here I was thinking he had turned his attention elsewhere," Elizabeth teased.

Immediately Cosette stepped aside with a good-natured laugh. Lord Harold was at their side in an instant, and before she could say another word, was leading Elizabeth out onto the dance floor.

Cosette watched and smiled softly. She was now free to return to her companion of the evening, wherever he had gone. It was against her better instincts though, that she cast one last fleeting glance across the room. However, she was unable to locate her mysterious man in black who had vanished into the swirling crowds.

With a sigh of relief, Cosette forgot all about him. Instead, she strolled slowly over towards a quiet corner, finally noticing the man stood there. It was at the edge of the room, beside a large set of curtains which hung over the doorway to the patio.

"Will, what were you doing back here?" she smiled, startled as he re-appeared.

"Reclaiming you for a moment," he replied, before pausing a moment later, taking her arm in his. "Don't suppose you fancy a stroll around the gardens?"

Immediately Cosette nodded, more than grateful for the offer of escape from the ballroom. Of course, it had nothing to do with the mysterious stranger who she swore she could still feel staring at her from the crowd. A stroll would be perfect, or so she concluded as she nodded.

"I would be delighted."

With that, they strolled out into the night air and began their promenade down the dimly lit patio that ran adjacent to the house, decorated with flickering torches and expanding into the gardens behind them. They instantly felt the change in temperature, for there was a cool nightly breeze in the air which was yet another relief compared to the heat of the tightly packed ballroom.

The best part about it though was the quiet. Despite the faint echoes of laughter and music that lingered in the air, there was very little noise outside. No one else seemed to even be outside. As Cosette gazed around the gardens, she failed to see another living soul.

"I can't help thinking of the fun people would have if they saw us alone out here," Will breathed, all but echoing her thoughts, "what stories would they conjure?"

"Probably something wicked," Cosette laughed softly.

The pair continued on for a moment or two more in silence, cloaked in shadow. She heard Will open his mouth to say something, but he was silenced by what sounded to be nearby voices that rapidly became louder.

Cosette paused also, trying to listen to whatever it was Will had just heard.

They appeared to be coming from down the hall. Who they belonged to, and why they were skulking in the corridors of the palace was beyond her. Save for herself and Will, most of the guests chose to remain in the midst of the party.

"Zounds. It seems we aren't alone down here," she sighed, turning to stare down the empty corridor with curiosity etched into her face.

Before either had a chance to speak, footsteps could be heard approaching from ahead and Cosette looked up as two men appeared from the shadows.

The first man was small and slightly hunched over. Everything about him seemed repulsive, from the way he coughed viciously, to his ill-fitting attire. However, the man beside him seemed a little better dressed and slightly better kept. He was cleanly shaven and had freshly starched clothes on. Yet, as her gaze ascended Cosette felt her heart stop.

It was him… the mysterious man from the ballroom earlier…

With steps that were too graceful, too feline, he approached the edge of the corridor and stopped a few yards from them both.

"Good evening," he began in an all too smooth tone as soon as his eyes made contact. His head bobbed in a neat bow, surprising even Cosette with his sense of decorum. "Pleasant evening is it not?"

"Indeed," Cosette replied hesitantly a moment later. She did not know why it was hard for her to find the words to speak. There was merely something in the man's mannerism that set her on edge, made her spine crawl. There was a darkness etched into the weathered lines of his face. "I do not believe we are acquainted, sir."

"You must pardon me, My Lady, for my poor manners," he replied swiftly, reaching for her hand and placing upon it a delicate kiss. "I am Chauvelin. Paul Armaund Chauvelin of the French Empire. This is Fumier," he explained gesturing to his associate.

Cosette and Will nodded formally.

"Lady Cosette Blakeney, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"You must pardon me for asking," Chauvelin continued swiftly, "but do you know, by chance, a man named Sir Percival Blakeney?"

Cosette nodded hesitantly as she weighed the question in her mind. "Why yes," she replied. "He is my father. This is my friend, Sir William Ffoulkes."

On cue, Will offered the men a bow. Despite the civil nature of the gesture, it was impossible to miss the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously as he did so. Clearly, he felt as uneasy as Cosette did by Chauvelin's presence.

His tone only made it clearer. "I do not mean to sound impertinent, but what are you doing here at his Highness' royal ball? We do not receive many French visitors these days."

"I am here on behalf of France," Chauvelin began, not without an evident sense of pride. "Now that our country is reborn, we wish to revisit our old alliances, such as the one we have with England. I have been sent to liaise with his royal highness, due to my previous experience with English society."

"Really?" scoffed Will. "I'm amazed you chose to return. According to the rumors, your lot prefer a guillotine to amuse you - when you aren't too busy fighting our troops and stealing land abroad."

His tone was one Cosette had never heard before. It was so cold and malicious that it made her start at the very sound of it.

Both Will and Cosette were more than familiar with the situation abroad: it was hard not to be when it was all that seemed to be on anybody's lips, and always seemed the focus of every paper in the country. Of course, the news was nearly always accompanied by the most recent exploits of the Pimpernel and his league. Their entire lives had been filled with speculation and tense whispers of the threat across the sea. Even if things had fallen oddly quiet, and suspiciously peaceful, for the past year, only a fool would consider the tension to be over.

Still, it did little to explain what had got into Will that night. He was normally the most composed and sensible of men. Considering Cosette's often hasty behaviour, they were a complementary pair.

Did Will know the man specifically? Or was this some unusual emotional outburst?

Cosette did not know, but she froze and laid a hand firmly on his arm. She couldn't deny she too felt a sense of unease towards the man. To think Napolean had chosen this man to be his envoy, a man so uneasy in polite society, it was almost a comical. The man lacked any clear social graces. One had to wonder what his purpose truly was.

"We do like to dance every now and then," Fumier interjected gruffly, glaring across at Will as he rebuked the clear insult.

By contrast, Chauvelin seemed unaffected, merely looking bored by the conversation rather than agitated by it.

Cosette did not like this one bit but, there was very little she could do that did not involve snubbing the man, and somehow she had not the courage to try it. Whoever this Monsieur Chauvelin was there was something dangerous about him, a fact that became even clearer a moment later as he smoothly extended a hand towards her.

"Speaking of dancing," he queried, reclaiming the conversation. "Would your ladyship honour me with the next dance? I do believe the next set is about to begin, and it has been so long since I have had the privilege of dancing with a beautiful woman."

Cosette opened her mouth, praying for a decent excuse of any kind to immediately pour out. Unfortunately, no such excuse materialised, instead leaving her with little choice but to nod in polite acceptance.

"I would be honoured," she murmured, placing her hand in his.

At least this way it would also draw an end to the awkward standoff before a duel could be scheduled. Although, by the way, Will and Fumier were continuing to glare at one another she wasn't entirely sure it was true.

Perhaps leaving them alone was not the smartest idea.

Cosette would have protested had Chauvelin not taken that as his cue to start parading back towards the ballroom, escorting her alongside him. She turned and cast Will one last concerned look over her shoulder, smiling in reassurance.

It was only one dance after all. Even she could survive one dance with their odious new friend.

For all his faults, Chauvelin was not a bad dancer. Cosette discovered this detail, much to her amazement, as the music swept into life, all but sweeping him along with it. His figure lacked any real grace or finesse, but he kept the timing right, and somehow knew all the steps as if he were any other gentleman of the English Tonne.

It was his black visage that drew attention to the truth that he was very much not accustomed to this setting. His apparel, and somewhat severe countenance jarred in comparison to the bright, gay assortment of gowns and people on the dance floor. Even now the stares weighed heavily on Cosette's shoulders as she felt the crowds watching in curiosity.

Part of her tried to ignore them, but that was hard when the only alternative left to her was focusing on her partner instead. Something about the intensity with which Chauvelin was glancing at her made the already awkward situation feel a hundred times worse.

"Your mother," he began, "was always a splendid dancer."

"She still is," Cosette corrected. Her tone was not the only thing cold about her as she stepped closer towards him, before stepping back into the line in time to the music. "Are you aquatinted with her?"

"Indeed," Chauvelin purred, "rather intimately, as a matter of fact. Alas, I have not seen her in many years."

"That would perhaps explain why she has never mentioned you, Monsieur. Were you close?"

"Very close," Chauvelin retorted, taking her hand as they turned together. "We knew each other back when she was just a mere actress, auditioning her way around Paris. How far she's come."

"Indeed."

Cosette knew he detected her subtle snub as she fished for information. She was not a cruel person, but something about this Chauvelin riled her. Whether it was his ominous gaze that was so intently fixed upon her, or the arrogance edged into his every movement, she wasn't sure.

She merely thanked God that this dance was only brief and required minimal interaction with her partner. His tone regarding her mother made her skin crawl. It was hard to imagine her mother ever befriending someone completely opposite to her in every way. Soon enough she could return to Will and hopefully forget this awkward interaction.

Speaking of Will, her eyes didn't miss the way he loitered near the edge of the floor, eyes clapped firmly upon them. His whole posture seemed agitated as if waiting for the first available moment to steal her back from their ominous new friend.

Cosette may have been a Blakeney by birth, but she had annoyingly failed to inherit her parents' remarkable ability to converse with complete strangers.

She tried to shoot him a reassuring smile across the floor, but she wasn't convinced how reassuring it actually was. Still, she managed to remain composed as she continued the rest of the dance, moving in time but all but ignoring her partner.

Her relief was palpable as the music eventually came to its final note, and the couples surrounding them curtseyed and bowed to one another.

Cosette followed their lead, preparing to somehow disappear into the throngs of people behind her as soon as she possibly could. Needless to say, she was almost overjoyed to hear the new voice that suddenly piped up behind her instead.

"There you are, Ma dear," it cheered, saving her from the awkward task of excusing herself.

Of course, there was always one man who would come to her rescue: her father.

Chauvelin turned sharply. Cosette mirrored his action, a smile rising automatically in relief. However, it died before it ever reached her lips as she noticed for the first time, a very different Percy to the one Cosette was accustomed to.

Everything about his demeanour seemed instantly different, so much so that Cosette barely recognised him. Both he, and Chauvelin, had frozen locking eyes with one another.

It took a second or two before they resumed their normal stances, and even then Cosette felt as if one spark would ignite some sort of explosion between the pair of them.

Cosette noticed the change in their eyes instantly. A sharp harshness, full of fury. She also noticed Will, stood just beside her father and looking every bit as unsettled as she.

"Sir Percy," Chauvelin declared, with a slight snarl.

"Monsieur Chaufelong," he greeted innocently.

"Really? Come now, Sir Percy. I don't see you for nearly ten years, and you start forgetting my name? Don't tell me you've become forgetful in your old age?" His grin widened as he finished, and something in his countenance turned feral and deadly, more so than Cosette had ever seen another man look.

"Oh, Chauvelin. Of course, I have trouble with the French language I do. All the names seem to blur together," Percy chuckled idiotically.

Cosette couldn't take it anymore. "You two know each other?" she interjected, wishing to pull their attention away quickly.

"Indeed, my dear," Chauvelin nodded stiffly. "Your father and I knew each other many years ago."

"Many years ago, which leads me to ask what you are doing here Monsieur Chaumbertin?" her father continued. "It has been a monstrously long time since I last had the pleasure of seeing your charming face. I had heard you had chosen to start a quiet life in some quaint little village or so. Seems I was misinformed."

Silence.

"Indeed you were, Sir Percy. I am here on state business, I am sure it would be far too boring for you," he snapped. "I have been chosen by the Emperor himself to liaise with English society, so I am fortunately returned to your English soil once again."

"Permanently?" Will asked icily. If she had not known better, Cosette would have almost sworn that was a threat. "Or shall you be leaving?"

Chauvelin, however, seemed undisturbed. If anything, he looked positively amused by the effect he was having upon both men. "I shall be leaving this party shortly, but as for England? I am afraid I shall not be leaving until I have completed my aims."

"So we shall be seeing more of you then?" Cosette enquired innocently.

"You can be assured you have indeed not seen the last of me." He smiled and nodded at her once more.

"How reassuring," Percy grinned sternly. He approached Chauvelin, each movement smooth as silk, even if the venom in his eyes remained.

"Always good to see you haven't changed Sir Percy, give my regards to Marguerite? And your son, Thomas? Isn't it?" he remarked slyly.

Cosette could not help it as she suddenly shivered.

"You have such a wondrous daughter, too, who I must thank for honouring me with her company this evening."

Percy frowned. "Of course. Cosette, Will, we are leaving now."

He turned on his heels with barely a backward glance, or his usual dramatic flair, and disappeared into the crowd. It was clear he was expecting them to follow.

Undeterred by the blatant social snub, Chauvelin turned his attention immediately back towards Cosette. "Au revoir, mademoiselle. You really do look just like your mother… maybe I will see you sometime?"

"Perhaps. Au revoir." Cosette felt frozen to the spot, unsure what exactly was happening. It was only as Will gently pulled on her hand that she began to move, leaving the whole disastrous situation behind.

Instead, she hastily strode after the rapidly disappearing figure of her father. Despite calling his name, it took a second before finally, Percy turned around, grinding to a halt in the entrance hall.

"What was that?"

He hardly missed a beat as he batted aside his daughter's question. "What was what?"

"That display," Cosette demanded irritated. Percy just shook his head.

"I have no idea what you are on about. Will, I do believe your parents are looking for you," he sighed, the fire still evident in his eyes. So much so that Will just nodded obediently.

"I'll see you soon," he smiled bowing in farewell to Cosette. "Thank you for the dances."

"Anytime," came her swift and gentle reply.

She turned once more to see her father striding towards the awaiting carriage, and her anxiously waiting mother. Cosette sighed and also followed obediently. She would figure this out later.

It seemed that for now, there was nothing more to say.