It was Lily who saw Reggie and Michelle first and came running to meet them with Stuart close behind.

"Oh, Reggie! Michelle! What has happened?" Lily approached with a confused mixture of concern, curiosity and pure delight. However, the less-than-pleased facial expressions of both Michelle and Reggie reduced her exuberance to deep concern.

"She has sprained her ankle and it would seem that I am, at least in part, responsible." Reggie announced with bitter irony. Michelle cast him a dark look but remained quiet.

"This is terrible!" Lily exclaimed and hovered anxiously as Reggie carried the ailing girl into the chateau. In a matter of moments, everyone was fussing over poor Michelle, who begged to be left alone and blushed at the tender attention she received. The injured foot was raised on a pillow as Michelle was gently placed on a plush settee in the large parlor.

Patsy coddled Bethaleigh in the kitchen to spare the child the trauma of seeing her mother in discomfort. Francois offered towels cooled in water to help reduce the swelling. Stuart offered medical advice from his experience in battle, but it was Meg who produced narrow strips of a torn sheet and expertly wrapped the swollen ankle. Reggie hung in the background, seemingly ignored by the others. However, everyone was acutely aware of his presence. The air fairly crackled with energy, a generous portion of which originated from Monsieur Dublan.

When at last the ankle was bandaged and it was evident that Michelle was not in immediate danger, Lily declared it was time for brandies in the small parlor and led the way for the others to follow, leaving Michelle and Reggie alone. Lily returned just long enough to purposely close the door with a knowing smile.

For a timely moment, neither spoke. Reggie stared out the window at nothing, with his back to Michelle, while the girl kept her eyes averted. She jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Why did you write nothing about who you were?" She looked at him then, noticing his white shirt, torn and stained lightly with blood where the thorns had gouged his arms and sides. Dark eyes flashed with resentment and black hair fell over his brow in disarray. Cream colored breeches covered muscular thighs and black hessian boots finished his attire, glossy beneath the day's dust and duty.

"I could not. I never meant for us to meet. Truly, I regret my actions and you have my apology for misleading you." She spoke slowly, choosing her words and her eyes, again, fell downcast.

"Was it all a practical joke to you? Did you get a good giggle out of my foolishness?" Reggie accused.

"No! It wasn't like that!"

"Tell me how it was, then!" Reggie raised his voice in spite of his efforts to control himself and stepped toward the girl. Michelle cringed, shrinking back into the cushions surrounding her and raised a hand to ward off any blows that may befall her.

"No!" Her response came, in part, as an urgent plea. Tears welled in puddles and spilled down her cheeks, while hiccupping sobs racked her frame. Reggie retreated instantly, confused and angry. His anger, however, was directed inward. He felt like a fool. More than anything, he wanted to know what motivated her write to him as she did. In retrospect, there had been nothing outright that declared that she saw him as anything more than a brave soldier who risked life and limb for his countrymen and women. Yet, subtle words, penned with a tender heart, touched his soul in a way that he was sure meant more than love for country and those who served to protect. His clumsy outburst had frightened her and certainly caused him to lose ground.

Lily had mentioned that Michelle had been violated and here he was acting like a menacing oaf. The knowledge of her unfortunate experience did not cause him to recoil in distaste toward her. Rather it made him angrier that he would not have the satisfaction of seeing the man, who had committed the act, die with great suffering at his hand.

Not once in her letters did she betray her own suffering. Instead, she plead for his safety and well-being, encouraging him with her faith and gentle humor, while expressing a belief in his stamina and courage. How did she see those traits of heroism and bravery that he didn't know he possessed until that moment of truth when he faced amoral conditions and unbelievable disregard for innocence.

He'd not been present when the orders were given to fire upon the women and children of the working class. He fought bitterly with the dilemma of what he would have done, had he been there that day. By some stroke of fate, he was not, and he was left with the lingering question of what would he have done. Until that day, he believed the propaganda of the middle class business and property owners that privilege was determined by a higher power and not to be challenged. It was not until he was in Cambodia with the commission of serving as an armed guard in one of the prison camps that he saw the whole war and a useless waste of life. Most of the prisoners were survivors of the ill-fated Paris Commune, idealists, who had simply put their dreams in the hands of dreamers. They were not criminals, thieves, murders or rapists, but rather honest, hard working citizens. Their treatment was shameful and he despaired of any good coming from it.

He confided to Meg that he saw his life as a shameful failure. There was no glory in guarding chained men who were thousands of miles from home, poorly clad and malnourished. All his visions of heroic feats of bravery and courageous sacrifice in battle vanished before his eyes as he waded knee deep in mud and pouring rain to brandish a bayonet at men who's spirits had been broken. He'd been at a low point when he wrote to her one Sunday morning describing his disappointment in himself. It was the only day when he was allowed five hours to do as he wished. Just writing the letter had vanquished some of his hopelessness.

Two and a half weeks later, he received a letter in return. She began the letter as a lighthearted review of the latest news and gossip concerning the up and coming social scene of Paris. Then in profound wisdom, wrote of how one day he would look back on those days and his actions now would determine how he would remember and be remembered.

'If you have done your best to be kind and good to these poor and degraded individuals, then you have done your part and cannot be responsible for their present condition. Those who have abused them will have a similar fate, for what goes around comes around. I cannot imagine that you would harm anyone who meant no harm to you, so take courage in what ever good you can do and let your actions speak for themselves. Love Always, Meg'

After that particular letter, he wrote almost every day, sometimes twice. The replies to his correspondence came almost as frequent. As the time for his return to France drew near, he took courage that he had something to return home to. His parents would be glad to see him and relieved that he was safe, but it was time for him to think about his future plans, which included being married and having a home. All his hopes and dreams by that time included Meg. Though she had not written the three words he wanted to read most, a deeper understanding of her heart and soul had emerged between them. In July, he had taken ill with fever and found it difficult to keep down nourishment. Between frequent vomiting and chills combined with fever, the doctor despaired of his recovery. It was Meg's or rather Michelle's letters which kept him alive. Barely sustained on weak tea and what little food he could keep down, he fought to stay alive. Delirious at times, he imagined that Meg, in her pale beauty, cared for him, bathed his brow and whispered soft words of love. When the fever left and he realized that no one, in fact, had been there to attend to him, he wished for the fever to return, so desperate was he for her gentle presence. Even now, realizing that even his dreams were not as he believed shook him.

He wrote telling her of the fever and how her letters had sustained him through one of the worst ordeals of his life and how her faith had given him the will to live. Her response was the most touching of all the letters, the words remaining in his heart and mind long after he read them.

'I felt in my heart that something terrible had overtaken you when I did not receive your letters for just over a week now. I prayed with all my heart for your safety and well-being, for I could not bear it if you were to leave us. I imagined the worst at times and yet I knew, by some unseen, though profound and wise messenger, that you were alive. For days now, I have clung to that telepathic communication. The wondering was torture until I understood the messenger was Hope. I dreamed that I bathed your brow and gave you my heart that you would know that you are not alone. When I received your letter today, I felt so alive and happy that I think I will be floating on air for days yet, so deep is my joy. Your life means as much to me as my own. Take care of yourself. As Always Yours, M.'

She'd only used her first initial that time and Reggie wondered about it at the time. Now it seemed more unusual. Did Michelle use the single letter to symbolize a difference in identity? He wanted to ask her if she really meant those words, but something held him back from speaking his thoughts out loud. Instead, he looked at her, trying to read her thoughts. He knew nothing about her, he decided, not her interests, concerns, fears or pleasures. Did she refuse to meet his gaze out of disinterest or embarrassment? If she were embarrassed, he could understand. Hell, he found the situation embarrassing, but he was also angry and had no idea of how to communicate his thoughts. It came as a surprising revelation that he wanted to.

It may have been easier to walk away from her and try to forget the whole thing. If she desired it, he would, but he had to know if she had written to him to fulfill a duty, or if she had written from the heart. Another thing bothering him was that she recognized him on the knoll, when he was sure they had never met.

"You implied you knew who I was, before I introduced myself. I was certain that we have never met." Reggie said, watching her closely, in search of a clue to her emotions. "How did that come about?" Her sobs had been reduced to sniffles and she dried her eyes with a white handkerchief.

Without looking at him, she explained. "We did meet when I was thirteen. I was invited to a party at your parents' house. We stayed overnight with Lily. There were many other girls there and you wouldn't have remembered me in the crowd. You had just returned from school and I remember how proud your parents were of you that you had graduated with honors. They gave you a horse the day I was there."

"Spartacus."

"What?" Michelle asked, unsure of what he's said.

"The horse was Spartacus. I still have him, a fine animal." Reggie smiled then. "How could I have been so blind?" His words were spoken without intent and he almost regretted them. Michelle blinked and looked at him directly for a moment, then looked away, confused. "I have to understand something before I leave" Reggie spoke, rushing his words before he lost the nerve to say what was in his heart. " A hundred questions beg to be asked, but the one that I need to know now is do you want to me to leave you be and never seek you out again? If you not wish it, then I should like to continue corresponding with you and visit upon occasion. I will not take offense or be a menace if you wish to never speak to me again." His words came out in a manner that more befitted a business deal. Michelle's eyes met his in dismay and her brows met in distress.

"There is so much you do not know. If you did, you would make such an offer." She answered with a chilling lack of hope.

"Then tell what I do not know, that I may remain ignorant no longer. I have played the fool long enough!" Reggie's frustration betrayed itself in his voice. Again, Michelle turned her eyes away. "Do not continue to keep me from the truth, Michelle. Six months, I have been lied to, believing that I was cared for by someone who loved another. You convinced me of it, Michelle. What other lies do I believe?" Reggie fought to keep his voice down. It wouldn't take much to bring Lily, Stuart, Meg and the remaining household running in to protect Michelle from his verbal outrage if he did not control his anger. Ordinarily he was not a violent man, but his patience was being pushed to its limits.

"I am not a...a virtuous woman." Michelle stammered. Reggie barely heard her. Stricken with dismay at her words, he stared at her.

"I do not believe it. Lily told me about...about the unfortunate incident and the baby. I could not possibly believe that you have lost the goodness within you that determines virtue. If you had, there are any number of things that could have come from it. But, you are a mother and there is no shame in that. I will confess that I would much rather that you had not been through such a terrible experience, but as wishing for things to be different than they are is a waste of time, I shall not dwell on it. Now, if there is anything else that I should know, please tell me now, that I may not be left in doubt of where I stand."

"I would like it very much, if we continue writing and anytime you may visit, I shall make you welcome."

An almost inaudible sound on the other side of the door caught their attention. Reggie put his finger to his lips, signaling for Michelle to be silent and carefully tiptoed to the door. He quickly pulled it open to reveal Lily retreating in haste.

"Spying on me again! When will you cease?" Reggie accused without rancor. Lily feigned indignation with a smile and returned to seat herself in a chair close to Michelle, who blushed, embarrassed by the scenario.

"Forgive me for my insatiable curiosity. But what fun is there if a girl can't spy on her big brother. I have waited my whole life for such an opportunity! I was simple trying not to intrude on something important. Bethaleigh is hungry and needs her mother." Lily justified, and patted Michelle's hand.

"Bring her in then, but not for too long. Michelle should rest." Reggie instructed.

It was Garrick who brought the infant to her mother. He cast a disapproving look at Reggie, as he deposited the baby in her mothers arms and left. Reggie followed, slightly curious of what merited such a look, but not enough to inquire. Stuart thrust a glass of brandy in his hands as soon he joined his brother-in-law in the small parlor.

"So how are things between you and the young lady?" Stuart asked pleasantly.

"Time will tell. She has agreed that we should continue our correspondence. Other than that, nothing..." Reggie drank from the glass and exhaled in mild response to the liquid that burned a trail down his throat.

"You must remember that she has been through a most traumatic experience. She is going to require patience and careful courting. But, she seems a gentle soul." Stuart mused.

"I don't like leaving her here. It could be months before I have an opportunity to come back and she is in no condition to travel now." Reggie said, thinking aloud.

"When she has recovered from the sprain, she may come and live with Lily and myself. Lily needs someone to fuss over and it may be just what she needs to keep her occupied and out of mischief." Stuart raised his eyes heavenward in a silent gesture of prayer that it would be so, for he could not possibly expect that his wife would ever be content with minding her own business.

Meg surveyed her reflection and conceded that no amount of face powder and rouge would disguise the tension forming a line between her brows. She wore a burgundy gown with narrow gold lace and trim. Four rows of amber beads draped below the square neckline and rose in the center to form a collar of sorts. Similar rows of the amber beads draped over her upper arms in place of sleeves. The skirt was narrow with a ruffle of tiny pleats at the bottom. The back was pulled up in the back to expose an underskirt of black on burgundy satin brocade. The front of the dress had no defined waist, but instead a center panel, cut full to accommodate the growing child within her. Her hair was pinned up in a soft twist with narrow tendrils spiraling gently about her face.

Erik watched her from the doorway of his study, dressed in black, formal attire. "You look lovely. Why do you continue to fuss?" He spoke with a harsh edge to his voice, negating his own lack of concern.

"I'm nervous. This is a very important evening for several reasons. I want to look my best." Meg said, applying her favorite shade of lipstick.

"Is there someone you are trying to impress that I should be jealous of?" Erik mocked softly.

"Of course not!" Meg exclaimed. "Reggie was informed by his sister earlier today that it was Michelle who wrote to him for over three months while he was stationed in Cambodia, during which time, he believed it was me. The poor man returned home to discover I had been married for three months. I'm rather uncomfortable with the situation, because I asked Michelle to write to him and gently discourage him from having feelings for me. But, it seems that she did no such thing. They corresponded and it seems they fell in love, but Michelle is distant and afraid. I don't blame her, but poor Reggie is just as confused and concerned he will frighten her." Meg explained, nervously.

"Did he fall in love with Michelle or you?" Erik asked, a cool tone in his voice.

"He believed it to be me, but he's been set straight on that score. I'm sure he is embarrassed by the whole scenario. I'm married, for pity sake. The poor man just wants to get on with his own life."

"I wouldn't be feeling sorry for him if Michelle really loves him. Garrick is another story, however. He is going to be heartbroken. I think he has a terminal case of puppy love." Erik mused, coming to stand beside his wife.

"I know. But, Michelle needs someone much older and wiser than Garrick. Reggie has grown up a great deal and I believe that Michelle thinks he is wonderful. I have a feeling that she was a little infatuated with him when she was younger." Meg confided.

"I sincerely hope he returns her affections. I should hate to render him useless should he pursue an interest in my wife." Erik met her gaze in the mirror.

"I beg of you to behave yourself this evening, Erik. Reggie does not hold my interest, nor I his." Meg sighed. "This promises to be an interesting evening. It will our first dinner party together. I'm really nervous."

"Why are you nervous? Do you expect something disastrous to occur? Are you thinking I might commit a social error that would end our association with these people? You already have my promise on that score. Just as long as these characters do not attempt to flirt with my wife, they are perfectly safe." Erik said solemnly. Meg sighed, again.

"Men flirt, Erik. It means nothing. You know this as well as anyone."

"You are wrong. Men always want something for their effort."

"But, it may be only a smile or agreeable company they seek. I think Stuart will be too occupied in his thoughts with Lily to think of anyone else, and Reggie is not going to think about anything but Michelle for a long time." Meg smiled at the thought of Reggie and Michelle discovering each other on the knoll. It was very romantic and said as much to Erik. He cast her a doubtful look, but said nothing. Meg put the finishing touch on her make-up, took her husband's arm and together, they walked down the elegant staircase to greet their guests.

Meg knew they made a beautiful pair and beamed at the looks they received from the other two couples waiting in the large parlor below. Lily, flawless as usual, wore a narrow, sleeveless gown of pale pink silk. White fur trimmed the neckline. Stuart, in full military uniform, had his arm possessively about her waist. Reggie, too, wore his military clothing and Michelle looked positively stunning in the satin gown of shimmering emerald. The color boldly matched her eyes and emphasized the creamy paleness of her skin. Michelle was seated on the plush settee, her hands clasped nervously in her lap. Reggie and Garrick hovered on opposite sides of her. Meg sensed that Lily was, at least in part, responsible for Michelle's sophisticated appearance.

The men greeted Erik, displaying respect, combined with measure of reverence. Erik, in turn, was gracious, however reserved and wary. Meg did not expect less. He'd never viewed another man as an equal. In all of his life experience, he had either been at the mercy of some who sought to destroy him, subject to others who used him or in control of those whom he used for his own purpose.

A moment of realization and truth passed through Reggie and Stuart as they exchanged glances. Erik was only too aware of their shocking discovery. They knew of his infamy and for an instant, struggled with their moral obligation to seize a notorious monster and their more obvious disadvantage. They were at his mercy for he looked more than capable of defending himself against both of them. The other consideration was the women. They were not in the least afraid of him. To the contrary, they looked at him as though mesmerized by his very presence. Not a word was spoken as an even deeper understanding dawned on all parties present. It was for the sake of the women that the men would behave as gentlemen and there existed a bond between the women and this man that Stuart and Reggie would be foolish to oppose. An unspoken declaration of devotion and profound loyalty was present in the countenance of Garrick, also.

Suddenly, all other eyes shifted from Erik to the men in uniform, challenging them in some way to declare their position. Stuart spoke first. "We find ourselves in the presence of a legend. A most unexpected surprise, I might add." He spoke carefully and without the slightest hint of mockery. "It is an honor to meet you, sir. I thank you for your kind hospitality to my brother-in-law, myself and my wife." A declaration had been made. Stuart would not take an opposing position and neither would Reggie, who nodded his agreement.

The party continued with the strained atmosphere dissipating gradually. Dinner was served in regal opulence, gleaming silver and china adorning the table. A choice of three meats were served, lamb, goose and ham. Light as air, white rolls with fresh butter and fruit preserves, mashed potatoes with gravy, an assortment of steamed vegetables, fresh garden salad, fruit salad and a variety of cheeses, puddings and cakes artfully filled the side board. Francois had ordered Wendy and Darcy about with the authority of a king in his kitchen to produce such a feast. Even the harshest critic would have been petty to find fault with the expertly prepared meal. Gemma had already established herself as the reigning presence of cleanliness and domestic perfection, while maintaining a aura of deference and quiet servitude. Patsy had assumed the role of Bethaleigh's nurse since Michelle had injured her foot and remained with the infant.

The meal was a success and the conversation was upbeat and jolly as Stuart shared a comical incident involving a bottle of rum and a pilfered box of Cuban cigars which got him in trouble with the school master. Michelle, shyly said something and Reggie bent his head to hear her better, placing his arm along the back of her chair. He laughed at her words and Michelle blushed prettily.

"What is it?" Lily asked, curiously. "You two are whispering sweet nothings and I want to know what Michelle said that made you laugh."

"She just said that it is fortunate for you that Stuart has a sense of humor and a similar history of outrageous behavior." Reggie confessed.

"Oh, no!" Stuart denied. "I haven't the nerve of my lovely wife. She humbles me daily with her wit and courage." It was Lily's turn to blush.

Dinner was over and the party moved to the parlor, where brandy and cigars awaited the men. Reggie offered Michelle his arm for support as she still limped, favoring the tender ankle. Michelle was smiling and flushed, clearly enjoying the attention.

Only Garrick seemed displaced and at odds with the world. He was unusually quiet, and as the evening progressed, he grew sullen. When Reggie settled himself next to the dark haired girl on the settee, Garrick excused himself abruptly and departed. The women quickly exchanged glances and Erik excused himself to follow the boy. Stuart and Reggie looked confused and inquired if something was amiss.

"Garrick is stricken with a severe case of puppy-love and recovery will take awhile." Meg said gently. "Please be patient with him. He would be terribly embarrassed if you asked him about it." The men nodded in agreement that such things were better left alone.

Erik found the young man out in the vegetable garden throwing stones at the scarecrow. "He's the only innocent one in all this." Erik said, gesturing toward the scarecrow with a lantern. Garrick retrieved another handful of stones and continued pelting the stuffed character.

"I wish him to be another." Garrick admitted.

"I suppose there is a certain amount of harmless sport in that." Erik picked up several stones and threw one at the scarecrow, scoring a mark on its burlap face. Garrick's next stone caught the scarecrow in the middle, causing considerable injury as straw fell out from the stuffed shirt. In a very short time, the scarecrow was nothing more that a heap of straw and rags.

"She never looked at me like she looks at him." Garrick said, finally. "Why couldn't I be what she wanted? I would do anything for her, but she never wanted what I had to give. All this time I just thought she needed time, but suddenly this man shows up and she swoons into his arms. It makes me sick." Garrick kicked at the ground in disgust. "What does she see in him?"

"What do women see in any of us? Men are a generally disgusting lot." Erik said, looking up at the night sky. "Let us return to our guests and be civil. Meg will become distressed if we remain out here too long. You see, Garrick, women are a strange lot, too. They worry needlessly over us for some mysterious reason. Buck up and show Michelle that you are a man who can take care of himself and put her mind at ease. Love is not always about holding someone close. Sometimes the greatest love is the one that sets someone free to pursue their our own destiny."

"Will the ache in my heart ever go away?" Garrick wondered aloud.

"Perhaps not entirely, but oddly enough, the human heart is capable of loving til the very last beat. You have many years ahead of you to fall in and out of love, but for now, there is jug of new wine in the basement. I suggest we invite our guests to sample it before retiring." Erik said, leading the way back to the chateau. Garrick followed.

As he promised, Erik invited the other men down into the basement to sample the new vintage. Meg and the other women remained in the large parlor, discussing matters pertaining to the events of the day and how the men were getting on better than any of them dared hope. A short time after midnight, the men returned from the basement, a little inebriated and singing a bawdy song. Garrick was singing the loudest, staggering bleary eyed and leaning on Reggie for support.

"Oh my goodness!" Meg exclaimed, when she saw them. "What have you done to the poor boy?"

"He'll recover soon enough, probably sometime tomorrow." Erik said.

"I'll take him up and put him to bed." Reggie said, like he had a choice, considering the boy was draped over his body, helpless to stand on his own.

"Thank you, Reggie, for looking after him. He just isn't able to hold his liquor, I suppose." Michelle said, looking at Reggie like he was the stuff heros were made of.

Meg helped Michelle limp to her room on the main floor, where Darcy helped the injured girl prepare for bed. Lily and Stuart expressed their enjoyment of the evening and left Meg and Erik alone.

"I'd say your party was a success, Madame de Leon." Erik said, offering his arm to Meg. Together, they walked up the great staircase.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Meg asked, resting her head against his shoulder.

"My enjoyment is in yours. I wish for your contentment that you may never regret becoming my bride. That fateful night you followed me into the Paris underground, I asked you if you intended to be a virginal sacrifice for your friend. What have you given up to be here with me?" Erik opened the door to their bedroom and let her enter first, followed and closed the door behind him.

"Erik, there is nothing without you. This child which grows within me is because of you. We are here now, because you brought me here to be your wife. You opened up your home and heart tonight to Stuart and Lily, Reggie and Michelle, because I asked you to. Already, Lily plans to visit come Christmastime. We are surrounded with loyal friends and soon we will have a family. I have sacrificed nothing. Do you still think of Christine?" Meg said, turning away, her hand placed protectively over her abdomen.

"Sometimes, I wonder what would have been different if Christine had accepted my offer, but then I remember she did, and I sent her away. She could only offer pity and that was worse than nothing. I wanted to die that night, and a part of me did, but you brought me back to life and gave me something to live for. Why did you do it?"

"When you were doing the scene of Past the Point of No Return, I saw you risk everything for Christine. I admit I was jealous. I wanted someone who would risk it all for me, and tonight when you allowed Stuart and Reggie into our lives, you did risk everything. They had no way of knowing that you'd been pardoned and you knew they could have turned against you. Also, you knew that Reggie had feelings for me once and still you welcomed him as an honored guest." Meg stood before her husband, reached up and kissed on the corner of his mouth.

"He is harmless and I rather like Stuart. However, I will be just as pleased when they are gone and I can have you to myself." Erik pulled his wife into his arms and kissed her.

THE END

Stay tuned for the epilogue.