Autumn was a glorious time in England.
It was a season of change, of casting aside the old, similar to the leaves that fluttered like confetti to the forest floor. All around the world changed. The great forest transformed, shedding its emerald leaves for a thick gown of ochre, crimson and chestnut brown. Thick moss spread, as did the ever growing shadows in the daily dimming sunshine.
The world bid the year goodbye, preparing for the birth of a new one. This was a relief to Cosette in some ways. Thankfully, the season had officially ended. The tonne had flocked in their droves from town, back to their ancestral estates. It meant the Blakeneys' were at peace, back in the heart of the countryside where they belonged.
Well, in a manner of speaking that was. After all, the very last thing Cosette had felt since returning from France was at peace. Instead, it was as if a veil had been lifted, exposing the world and her family in a whole new light. One she was still adjusting to.
Even as she had walked back through the main hall of Blakeney Manor, Cosette had felt like a ghost. The world she had left behind had frozen in her absence, nothing changing or out of place. Everything was just as she remembered it.
The entire coach ride back from Dover, that was all she had hoped for. However, the reality was nothing of what she'd pictured. The familiarity felt eerie and wrong, as if she no longer did belong in this world she had previously called her own.
No matter how right it felt to be back in her mother's arms, or to see her perfect little brother's face again, Cosette felt as if watching from the outside. As if, at any moment, the whole world would shatter into a million pieces. Nothing felt real.
But part of her clung tightly to the happiness she felt deep inside.
She was home.
She had survived.
They had all survived, and were safely back across the Channel. For now, that was what she held on to. Perhaps in time she would even begin to believe it in her soul, and not just in what her mind was telling her.
After all, it had been enough to give her the strength to climb back up on deck of the Day Dream. Even as the sunlight dwindled, the sunset beginning to darken the skies, she couldn't help but grin at the sight of the English coastline in the distance.
Every light twinkling in the distance was a welcome beacon, calling them all home as the League clambered over the side and into the small boat that would take them ashore. It was safer than risking a public display of disembarking in the port. Even the fishermen of Dover would know Sir Percy and his friends were an unusual sight to arrive together so late and on the same vessel.
No. Some questions were better left unprompted.
Instead, they had piled together and been lowered into the still waters below. Cosette had been assisted into the boat by both her father and Will. She didn't know which one was the more protective of her now that they were reunited. It was too close to call, to be honest, with their constant fussing.
It was touching, even if a worrying sign of the smothering she was to endure now that she was home. Still, she'd bear it. Gladly.
Especially if it gave her chances like this to nestle into Will's side as they began to row to shore, using the ruse of the cold wind and rocking of the boat to excuse it. Even if the other suspected anything, no one said a word.
Instead, their attention was rightly elsewhere as they drew toward the edge of the beach ahead and the people waiting there.
The moment Cosette had made out her family's likeness, standing at the edge of the beach, her heart had soared. Had her limbs allowed her, she would have flown across the sand to their side. Instead, she was forced to wait as they finally began to dismount their vessel.
It was as if the wind itself was celebrating with them, whipping about the place, dancing in carefree delight.
The Blakeneys were reunited at last.
"Mama?"
"Cosette!"
There was a mere blur of silks and skirts as Marguerite Blakeney hurled her arms around her eldest and cradled her to her chest. It was a sight that would have stirred the hearts of even the hardest of men, let alone those as well aquatinted with the Blakeneys as the men on the beach were.
If Percy didn't know better, he could have sworn he saw Hastings dabbing at the corner of his eye.
"It's all the demned sand," he pleaded, dismissing the concern to no avail. Still, no one was cruel enough to mock him for it as they finished drawing the boat onto shore, leaving the family to finish their reunion in peace.
Armaund was quick to also accept the embrace of his sister, laughing as his nephew leapt into the fray with enthusiastic vigour. He couldn't help but spin him round, filling the air with his delighted laughter.
"You're back! You're all back! Did you miss me?"
"Terribly," Percy confessed, rushing to steal his own moment as Thomas was released and hurried toward him.
Normally, Percy was restrained with his open displays of affection in front of others. Even the league were rarely witness to anything more than a fond smile or hand on the shoulder. It had only been on this mission that they had seen a new side to their leader exposed, one far more human and vulnerable than they had expected, even if they'd had their suspicions long enough.
Such suspicions were at last confirmed as Sir Percival Blakeney joined the embrace, coiling his arms around his family and raining kisses upon them all.
For several moments, nothing was said. However, as with the rest of their escapades the past week or so, time and tide appeared to wait for no man - not even Sir Percy Blakeney. The sun had all but disappeared, the darkness of night descending on their landing party.
"As much as I do enjoy a good costal view, I'm rather in need of a lie down," he chuckled, turning back to the others huddled around him. "I think Cosette and I have spent long enough away from Blakeney Manor for the present."
Marguerite clearly couldn't agree more as she pressed a kiss to her husband's cheek and linked her arm through his. "Let's go home."
Sweeter words had never been spoken.
It had taken several weeks for life at Blakeney Manor to resume its normal rhythms.
As it was, the first 24 hours after their arrival back home, none of the Blakeneys did anything except lounge in their beds for some much needed rest. The staff knew better than to question or disturb the odd behaviour. In fact, they were privately pleased to have a day off to rest themselves now that they knew the happy ending to this whole endeavour.
Even Shivers himself was reported to have been humming under his breath as he sat in his private parlour, perusing the household supply lists. It was odd enough of a sight to startle almost anyone who witnessed it. It had to be seen to be believed.
Something else that had been proved through this whole experience was the true lives of both Lord and Lady Blakeney. Of course, Thomas had been thrilled to learn his parents were none other than England's top spies and part of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel. It was as if Christmas had come early. Over and over again he asked when the next adventure would be, and if he could join in.
Needless to say, no one was in a hurry to suggest a new one. Thomas would merely have to wait for some new adventure to rear its head. Hopefully it would have the decency to wait at least a year or ten…
In the meantime, they'd have to make do with their other lives. After all, just because the social season had been forgotten for the League, didn't mean it had been forgotten by the rest of the tonne in London. In fact, despite their immediate suspicion at the absence of most of the renowned names that usually filled London's dance halls, London had still carried on with full force.
Thankfully, this was more Suzanne and Marguerite's forté. Together, they had spun a clever ruse of a horrid illness that had swept amongst their ranks, accounting for their inability to attend the soirees, teas and dances that had been scheduled for these past weeks.
It also helped account for their reluctance to accept any further invitations going forward for the remainder of the season. After all, 'Poor Cosette is all but bed bound' Marguerite had written in a letter to the Duchess of Huxley only a day or so ago. From there, the spark had erupted into a wild fire, sweeping through society like wild fire, with letter after letter of condolence and well-wishes arriving daily.
Cosette's very real injury now only provided them with further support for their skilful fictional tale. Anyone who happened to glimpse her on her occasional strolls into town believed the tale immediately, unaware of the true cause for her weakened state.
If anyone doubted her miraculous recovery some weeks later, then no one was brave enough to challenge it- not publicly anyway. As far as society was concerned, Cosette Blakeney had survived a particularly nasty illness and was back to her charming self.
Besides, there was plenty else to distract the idle English tonne apart from Cosette Blakeney's mysterious disappearance. For example, the extraordinary reports that were emerging from France regarding a fire and the apparent near execution of the Scarlet Pimpernel.
It had been all over the english papers.
The story of the drastic fire at Emperor Napoleon's palace had been the fodder of gossip and rumour for weeks, as were the vague reports of their having been some sort of skirmish within the palace at the time.
"Assassins," one woman had proclaimed proudly in town. "It must have been assassins. They would never have caught the Pimpernel. They're merely trying to cover it up."
"That is ridiculous," replied another fellow, looking mightily displeased with her conjectures. "It was a mere accident, I tell you. Some nobleman with too much champagne in him. He probably set a curtain afire in his sleep."
Needless to say the story had grown and grown with every telling. One thing was for sure, no one believed France had come that close to executing the British hero. What had really happened would forever be mere fancy.
Cosette could not have cared less. Let London have its fun, she thought in amusement. God knew it was always looking for the next possible scandalous story to unmask. As long as it didn't involve her, or her family, she didn't care one jot.
It was one more tale in a never ending saga for the Pimpernel… well, that wasn't entirely true though. Not when her father had promised her, and her family, most solemnly to officially retire his duties unless the most desperate of circumstances arose and their aid was required.
For that, Cosette could not be more grateful. At least she could sigh a sigh of relief to know for the foreseeable future all that she cared for would be remaining firmly on English soil. The world would just have to be content with an absence of Pimpernel tales for now… besides, it wasn't as if they could not create a few of their own. Tales and legends had always tended to develop a life of their own amongst the aristocracy. Perhaps this would be no different.
Still, that was no longer her concern. She had everyone she cared about safe and well, and that was all she desired.
Speaking of those she cared about, Cosette carefully slid the latest of Will's letters out of the book in which it was now serving as a bookmark. Her eyes fondly scanned the script on the page as she was pulled at last out of her thoughts and back into the wondrous afternoon. One not too dissimilar to the one she had last seen Will during.
Her lips flickered into a smile as the memory of the afternoon before, and their impromptu picnic filled her head. Since everything in Paris, the league and their families had been taking to spending more and more time together, so it was no surprise when the Ffoulkes' had stopped by for the day.
Of course, Will and Cosette had chosen other activities over joining their parents in the drawing room for tea.
Despite their tighter watch over their children, her parents had consented to letting the pair wander into the woods unchaperoned. In all honesty, she suspected they were just relieved to see her up and about again considering the weeks she had spent bedridden or forbidden from doing anything that could tear open her healing stitches.
After all, they were not too far away themselves on the veranda and it was not as if they were expecting anything to be amiss between the pair after eighteen years. A detail Will and Cosette had been eager to exploit as they hurried their way out of sight, tucked neatly into a quiet grove not too far from the edge of the gardens.
Then again, they were not deviants. Their privacy was not used for anything other than basking in the glory of one another's company, and the tranquility that lay around them. For a house as large as this one, it was astounding how little privacy or quiet there was to be found in it.
Perhaps that was why Cosette had always been so fond of finding nooks and crannies to claim as her own. The grove was no exception as they made their way over to the largest tree in sight. The foliage above made for a decent canopy, shielding them from above as much as any potential prying eyes that could have been lurking around them.
Cosette had watched as Will had lain out the blanket he had brought with him on the grass, helping her to sit upon it. She also watched as he placed down the wicker basket he had brought along, having snuck down to the kitchens earlier on some private mission. Joyous surprise filled her at the sight of a bottle of lemonade as well as various other treats inside it.
So these were his spoils. He'd thought of everything.
The water had gleamed in the fading sunlight as she lay there, listening to his warm and soft voice read the final pages of verse. His fingers had toyed gently with the end of her loose strands of hair, laying about her head in some kind of dishevelled halo.
She let her eyes wander back along the horizon, surveying the world in all its glory. Letting her head rest back against him, the sun beaming down on her face, Cosette felt for the first time as if she may have found peace… true peace.
No matter what the world had lurking out there in its wild expanses, she knew she could face it as long as she had those she loved beside her. The whole world was clearer now, both lighter and darker all at once, as if a beacon had been thrust upon it. No matter how harrowing such a revelation had been for her, an innocent English heiress, she was grateful. Cosette now knew the truth in ways she could never have previously comprehended.
She knew who she was. She knew who her family truly were behind their lace cuffs and painted smiles. She also knew the legacy that now awaited her, should she choose to honour it. That was the only adventure she truly cared for now.
Being a Blakeney.
So. Here it is. The final chapter - I can't believe I'm even typing those words. This story has been a passion of mine for years and it's now been completed, thanks to each and every one of you who've read this ramble. Your reviews, favourites and messages have been what has inspired me the most to actually complete Percy and Cosette's story... well, almost complete. For, I have a rough draft of a possible sequel saved which I may post depending on whether or not that's something people are interested in. If so, let me know and follow/ favourite the story as I'll post an update here to let you know if/when it goes up.
Until then, stay safe. All my love,
Thesilentmage x