Happy Saturday! And for my American readers, happy Superbowl Sunday! May the team of your choice win, even if you're just cheering for the commercials or food!
I hope your February is off to a good start and that you enjoy this chapter.
In the dark Parisian night, two men approached the gatehouse outside LeForge prison. The taller of the two men, who sported substantial girth under his thick black beard, had a cross hanging on a silver chain around his neck. He carried a small black book in one hand. With the other hand he banged on the wooden door of the gatehouse. Sergeant Binot opened it, squinting to see out into the dark.
"Father Valois here to take confessions," the priest announced. "If you will be so kind as to lead us to those unfortunates who are to meet their maker tomorrow, the Lord will have mercy upon your soul as well as on theirs."
Binot blinked. "Nobody told me to expect a priest."
"I have papers from citizen St. Just himself, if you would like to look at them." The priest held out a rolled up scroll in the dim light.
A communication from Louis St. Just, a principal member of the Committee for Public Safety and a friend to Robespierre himself, could not be ignored. Binot stepped out of the guardhouse to examine the document. Reading it, he saw that it authorized one Father Valois to enter Le Forge prison and provide priestly services for any condemned prisoner who requested them.
Binot eyed the priest more respectfully. "I see permission for one priest here. Why are there two of you?"
"This is my assistant." The priest gestured to the other man. "His help is vital to my work."
"What work is that?" Binot took a half step toward the man to see him better in the darkness.
"This." As the priest uttered the word several things happened in quick succession. The assistant reached out and grasped one of Binot's arms in such a way as to twist it upward behind his back. The wrenching motion forced Binot to bend over at the waist. At the same time the priest pulled a white kerchief from inside his robes and pressed it to Binot's face. As Binot inhaled through the cloth, struggling to cry out, his limbs weakened. His fight was over nearly before it began. As he lost consciousness the assistant grasped him under the arms and pulled him into gatehouse. "Go!" he hissed to the priest.
The priest wasted no time. He passed through the gatehouse door with surprising ease for one his size, disappearing inside while the assistant waited in the shadows, standing guard over the unconscious Binot. The assistant peered out the door warily, scanning on all sides, but fortune favored the daring this night. The guards had just changed half an hour earlier and the distinctly chilled air meant that anyone who was inside wanted to stay there.
The assistant stomped his feet and blew on his hands while he waited. After several repetitions of these movements the guardhouse door behind him opened and the priest came out, accompanied by an older man wrapped in a long woolen coat. The priest's substantial bulk had diminished somewhat.
"Merci, monsieur!" the older gentleman began, but the priest cut him off.
"Do not thank me until we are safe."
The older man nodded wordlessly. The priest turned his attention to Binot, who was beginning to stir and moan, and used Binot's own red necktie to tie his hands behind his back. Then the priest shed his long tunic, revealing a gentleman's coat and pantaloons. The tunic went over Binot's head, while the cross around the priest's neck went into a breast pocket. At the same time his assistant produced three of the tricolor rosettes that were popular with the revolutionaries. He attached one to the lapels of all three men and added a revolutionary chapeau, a distinct style of hat favored by those who opposed the monarchy. The transformation was complete. Instead of a priest with a lowly assistant, onlookers would see three gentlemen coming back from a night on the town.
As a last touch, the man who had played the priest withdrew a sketch of a golden fleur de lis and attached it to the tunic that covered Binot. "Now," he said, speaking to his companions in low tones, "we must move as swiftly and silently as possible until we reach the safe house. As you love your life, not a word until I give you leave. If we are stopped, follow my lead. Do you understand?" Both men nodded solemnly, and the trio made their way out the door.
They had only taken a few steps away from the gatehouse, walking closely together in the darkness, when a gendarme rounded a corner and came towards them. They were so close that even in the dark of night it was impossible to avoid his attention. The soldier halted, aimed his bayonet and cried, "Arretez! What is your business here?"
The tallest of the three intruders, the one who had so recently been a priest, did not pause for a moment. He hiccoughed loudly, staggered slightly, and lurched directly towards the gendarme. "Which way to the Rue St. Marie, citizen?"
"The Rue St. Marie?" the gendarme echoed. He kept his bayonet leveled.
"Is it ahead of us or behind us? Forgive us, citizen, we seem to have missed our way in the dark."
"You mean you are too drunk to read the street signs!" one of his companions answered, his words slurred. "I told you we missed it half an hour ago!"
"Speak for yourself. You are drunker than I am. I am quite in my wits!" the first man answered, but the loud hiccough that finished his exclamation belied his words. His companions exploded in raucous laughter, clapping each other on the back.
The gendarme lowered his bayonet slightly. "You are going the wrong way, citizens. Rue St. Marie is half a mile that way." He waved vaguely towards their right.
"Merci beaucoup." The first gentleman spoke again. "Is there a chair available? Might you be so kind as to summon a carriage?"
"A carriage!" One of his companions guffawed. "What do you think we are, aristocrats?" He then swore loudly as he lost his balance and nearly fell.
The gendarme lowered his bayonet, shaking his head in disgust. "There are no carriages at this time of night. Get off the streets before I call the magistrate! You have no business here."
"Merci," the tall drunkard responded thickly. "You are a good man. Vive la revolucion!" He lurched towards the left, opposite from the way the gendarme had indicated.
His taller companion grasped his elbow and turned him in the right direction. "Our apologies, citizen. We will trouble you no more. Vive la revolucion!"
The third man of the trio broke into a loud rendition of La Carmagnole, a song of the revolution, and the other two joined in. The gendarme watched while the three staggered drunkenly down the street, until they were swallowed by the darkness.
It was only two days after the dinner party when Mrs. Gardiner came to the room Jane and Elizabeth shared and announced that they had callers.
The two sisters exchanged startled looks. "Yes, Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy is here for you," their aunt said in response to their unspoken question. She was aware, naturally, that Darcy had asked for permission to call. "But Jane, there is someone with him. I think you can guess who it is. Will you see him?" She did not wait for an answer but left their room with a smile, leaving them to follow her downstairs when they felt ready.
Jane, of course, was surprised, to hear that Bingley had arrived, but Elizabeth was not. Bingley had given every appearance of a man at least deeply infatuated, if not in love, and it would only be natural for him to accompany his friend to the Gardiner's home. She was also somewhat relieved. An afternoon call would probably take at least the better part of an hour, and Elizabeth was not sure what she and Darcy could find to talk about for all that time. Having Bingley present could only make the call go more smoothly.
She and Jane quickly took stock of their appearance in the looking glass before they went down. This morning the sisters had had to manage their own hair and clothes, for Hortense and Marie, Jane's maid, had abruptly left the household two days earlier. Their departure followed the pattern set by others in the Gardiner household, where domestic servants joined and left with surprising frequency. Mrs. Gardiner told them that the young women had left due to better opportunities elsewhere, but Elizabeth wished she could have heard the news from Hortense herself.
Darcy greeted her with a bow and the customary kiss on the hand when she entered the parlor. "My apologies, Miss Bennet, that I did not come sooner." Beside him, Bingley was likewise greeting Jane.
"On the contrary, I did not expect to see you so soon." Elizabeth felt a warm tingle on the back of her hand where Darcy's lips had touched it. She had never felt that before with any gentleman, not even Wickham.
"We would have been here yesterday but there were business matters that demanded immediate attention."
The four of them sat down and had a brief exchange about the rainy weather that had recently afflicted Paris. Elizabeth wondered if the gentlemen sensed the awkward feeling in the room. Neither she nor Jane had ever had a serious suitor before. Most of the men they met in London were either silly flirts, like Wickham, or widowed older men, such as the gentleman who had asked Charlotte to dance. She found It challenging to start a conversation when face to face with an entirely different type of gentleman.
After a few minutes Darcy asked about Jules, much to Elizabeth's relief. She rang the bell and asked for Jules to be brought to the parlor, but it was not a servant who brought the child in, but Mrs. Gardiner herself.
Jules had changed somewhat in the days since he had been taken off the street. Bathed and in proper clothing, he looked more like the child of a gentleman and less like a homeless waif. But there was still a wary, hunted look in his eyes, and he did not speak more than one or two words, and those with an effort.
"I have brought you a gift, master Jules," Darcy announced, eliciting the first real look of interest in Jules' eyes. "That is, if Mrs. Gardiner permits it." Mrs. Gardiner nodded and Darcy produced a small package, which he handed to the boy.
Wrapped carefully inside brown paper was a miniature ship, adorned with tiny soldiers on its deck, and equipped with wheels on the bottom so that it could be pushed back and forth across the floor. From the look on Jules' face Elizabeth felt sure that he had never seen such a thing before. He gave an extraordinary smile as he looked up at Darcy but seemed too awestruck for words. Darcy did not mind.
"Here. Let me show you how this goes." Mrs. Gardiner drew Jules to a corner of the room and knelt down with him while the others watched, enjoying the sight of the child playing for the first time. There were plenty of servants who could have taken on the task of watching over the boy, but it was clear that Mrs. Gardiner was relishing that role, and that Jules was relaxing as he interacted with her. Elizabeth could not help being touched by the charming scene. Judging by the look in Darcy's eyes, he felt the same.
"Did you have such a toy yourself as a child?" Elizabeth asked him. "Is that what made you think of it for Jules?"
Darcy answered that he had, and after that their conversation flowed easily. Elizabeth learned that Darcy had grown up on an estate in Derbyshire, and that he and a cousin were guardians to his sister, who was ten years younger than he. With tremendous surprise she heard him refer in passing to his uncle, the earl of Matlock. Neither Charlotte nor her uncle had mentioned Darcy's connection to a noble family, yet his casual reference indicated that he took the connection as a matter of course, and expected that she would do the same. He treated it of so little importance that after a few minutes she had nearly forgotten about it.
By now the gentlemen and ladies had divided into two couples. Bingley and Jane were deep in their own conversation, only occasionally looking over at Elizabeth and Darcy, while Mrs. Gardiner and Jules stayed in one corner of the room. They remained this way until the clock struck, indicating that above a quarter of an hour had passed. At that point Mrs. Gardiner called for refreshments to be served. The gentlemen examined their timepieces and made the usual polite excuses, but Mrs. Gardiner would not hear of it. She insisted that they stay and they allowed themselves to be overruled without much trouble. The food brought the little group back together. While they were eating the fruits and breads Gardiner arrived from one of his warehouses, and he too joined the general conversation.
The gentlemen stayed over an hour. When they finally left, the Mrs. Gardiner and Jane began discussing the visit, recalling what the gentlemen had worn, how they had looked, and above all, when they might call again.
"Mr. Darcy's manner of address is so very fine when he speaks," Mrs. Gardiner commented, "that anyone can tell at once that he is a gentleman. And I thought Mr. Bingley was so courteous in the way he asked about your family, and expressed a desire to meet them some day. They both seemed to enjoy their visit as much as we did. I believe we will see them again soon."
"It is trifling of them to pay us a visit at all," Jane answered. "Surely there are many other homes waiting and hoping for them to call."
"Do you mean homes with eligible daughters?" her uncle asked, with a half smile. "You are right; there are likely any number of women in Paris waiting to hear Mr. Darcy's or Mr. Bingley's name announced at their door. Yet they chose to come here. Never fear, Jane, Bingley will call again before we know it. How you choose to proceed with him, Jane, is up to you, but he gave every sign of wishing for more of your company. And if I am not mistaken, you wish for more of his."
Jane looked away in embarrassment, and Mrs. Gardiner scolded her husband. "My dear, you should not tease Jane so. She is not like Lizzy, who enjoys the attention. Jane is a good girl, and if she and Mr. Bingley wish to see more of each other there is nothing more to be said."
"Speaking of Lizzy, we have not heard much from her." Gardiner turned to his younger niece. "What did you think of your caller? I know you did not like him at first, but there seemed nothing disagreeable about him today."
"I am not sure what to think," Elizabeth answered honestly. "As my aunt said, he is a fine gentleman, but he is so different from when I first met him. I think there is more to him than first appears. Did you know that he is the nephew of an earl?"
Jane gasped and Mrs. Gardiner's eyes widened, but her uncle nodded wisely. "Yes, he told me when he asked to call on you. He spelled out his position quite clearly. You know his fortune and his connections, and now you know that he can please when he so chooses. If you care for him, Lizzy, he would be a husband any woman could be proud of."
Elizabeth gave a little sound of disbelief. "Surely you do not think he will offer for me after calling one time! Nor would I accept if he did."
"No, he knows you would not. He will give you as much time as you need to come to know him. But his mind is already made up."
Elizabeth's disbelief grew. "Did tell you that himself?"
"I know Darcy well enough to know the signs. He is a man utterly in love."
"You cannot be in earnest! We have barely spent any time together. And how did you come to know Mr. Darcy so well? I thought you had just met!"
"Forgive me; I misspoke." A flash of consciousness suddenly came across her uncle's face, an awareness as if he knew he had been discovered. But he collected himself quickly. "I meant that as a man, I know how to tell when another gentleman's heart has been taken. Darcy will be yours, if you want him, just as Bingley will be Jane's. But I would advise you to proceed carefully, Lizzy. Do not encourage him if you do not really like him."
"Do you really think I would do such a thing?"
"You might, if you thought it would help bring your sister and Bingley together," he answered shrewdly, and Elizabeth flushed, knowing she had been caught out. "But Jane and Bingley do not need your assistance. In this matter you must think only of yourself. Let your heart guide you, along with your good sense, and you cannot miss the mark. Allow Darcy to make his case, but if you decide you do not like him, you will do him a kindness if you send him away at once."
What will Elizabeth do next? Will she allow Darcy to call again, or will she call the whole thing off before it really starts? Please tell me what you think by leaving a comment. I love hearing what you think of the story as it develops! I hope to hear from every one of you- you are the best! Have a great weekend.- Elaine