Just to let everyone know, this chapter will be broken down into several parts. I will try and get the third part written and updated just as soon as I can. Again thanks for all of your feedback. It is so appreciated and really does help when I'm choosing which fanfic to work on. Enjoy!

.Chauvelin's Rage

Part II

Chauvelin could see her face the day he told her that he no longer wished to be a mere playwright but an Official of the Committee of Public Safety. By this time the French Revolution was in full swing and he so longed for a seat on that committee. Marguerite was in such high spirits after hosting one of the most profound meetings her salon had ever known. You see, Marguerite St. Just, was no ordinary woman, but a fascinating star who astounded all of France, even republican, revolutionary bloodthirsty Paris with her beauty, talent, intellect, and wit. Still a very young woman with only her devoted brother to chaperone her, she soon had an exclusive brilliant following that seemed to hang on her every word. She was the envy of all of France, yet the only credit she took was that of her talent. She used to often say, "Money and titles may be hereditary, but brains are not!" Her motto was equality of birth!

Marguerite had seemed so genuinely happy for him that evening in the wee hours of the morning as he was her last guest to leave and he turned around and told her of his decision. She seemed so pleased that he would give up his dream to be a part of an even greater dream for their beloved France. He felt as if he were on a high from the look of adoration in her eyes that he twirled her around and kissed her firmly on the lips. He had dared never do such a thing before.

"My little Chauvelin, what are you doing?" She gasped as she pulled away from his kiss and his embrace.

"Marguerite, my dear, I love you and I know that you love me too." He replied puzzled. "Why do you pull away from me?" He stepped toward her.

She suddenly spun around, trying to think of what to say. Armand had been right all along. Chauvelin was not just interested in her for her talent and friendship, but he was in love with her. "Chauvelin", she muttered nervously while wringing her hands tightly together.

He came up behind her and slowly turned her around to look into her face. "Marguerite", he questioned. "What is it?" There was now a forced smile upon his lips.

"Chauvelin, I do not know how to tell you this. I…I am very fond of you, but I do not love you." She stammered barely above a whisper. "I…I thought we were friends, very good friends." She tried to read his expression, but it was if a mask had suddenly fallen before his face, hiding him from her view. Never, had she not known what to say, but for the first time in her life, she was at a loss for words.

If only Armand were home right now, she thought to herself. Chauvelin just stood there for a moment as if trying to fully comprehend what she had just said. "Chauvelin, I am so sorry." Marguerite uttered sincerely.

As if awakening from a trance like state, he suddenly took her into his arms and held her tightly against himself. "I do not believe you, Marguerite. I know you love me and soon I will make you see it too!" He whispered harshly into her ear.

For the first time, he noticed the look of fear that had crept into Marguerite's face. He had never seen that look before, but right now he did not care. Marguerite was his and he was not about to loose her.

She tried to pull away again, but he held her tight. "You will not get away from me, Marguerite. You will not!" His lips then came down hard again on hers almost causing her to loose her breath. She struggled against him, but the more she struggled the tighter his embrace became almost crushing her to him. His lips then left hers and began traveling down her neck.

Struggling to catch her breath, she began to sob. "Chauvelin, please don't do this, just go."

At that moment they heard the door begin to open and Chauvelin let her go. She stepped back as far as she could crossing her arms in front of her chest hoping to step out of the light so her brother would not see her tears. She was rather a private person and did not wish to burden her brother with this, but would find a way on her own to handle it.

As Chauvelin gathered his things and said a quick goodbye to Armand, he spoke over his shoulder to Marguerite. "We will discuss this matter again at another time." Then he was gone.

Armand rather tired took no notice of the tears in Marguerite's eyes or the trembling of her body as he half heartily asked about the discussion of her salon that evening. It was not that he did not care or that he was not interested, but he was exhausted and had yet to fully recover from the thrashing sustained by the Marquis for being in love with his daughter. Armand was currently all wrapped up in his own troubles, in his own little world.

TBC……..