Ok! Here's the next bit! Sorry it took so long, but finals have been eating my soul. But, now school's out, and I'm going on an extended vacation during which I have time to do nothing but cut grass, chop wood, and write! So, I'll get lots of stuff done then. Expect the next chapter on Sunday, as I am stuck at home for my sister's birthday, and I hate her friends. That entails me sitting alone and writing. Oh joy. This chapter...isn't that great, but it is important, and I even threw in everyone's favorite Spaniard, Teresia Cabarrus! Hooray! But now that this bit's done, I can start making some real chaos...mwahaha! Anyhow, as always, reviews are greatly appreciated. And if you so chose to leave one, please leave me a way to contact you so that I may answer any questions / lavish you with praise. The end.

Disclaimer: Lucian is mine! HAHA! But Teresia is not. And neither is the Scarlet Pimpernel, for that matter.

Soon the Moon Will Smoulder

Chapter 6: In the Dark of the Morning, I'll Warm You...

Lucian had spent nearly two months in stalemate with his situation, and was growing increasingly restless, his desire to get out of the stifling English society growing faster by the day. None of the children he had enlisted in his service had discovered anything of value, if they had discovered anything at all. Damned useless idiots, all of them. He, though, had been slightly more than productive. In his attempts to find a more efficient way than force to get what he wanted, he had discovered sex to be an extremely effective form of manipulation.

Of course, he did not know this from personal experience, but through observation, he could only assume that he was correct in his assumptions. The length that the lovers in the English society would go was ridiculous, which only went to show the power of it. Now, if only he could control that power…

The minor difficulty that Lucian naturally ran in to was that the English considered the very subject taboo, and it was simply never discussed; children his age were left to discover the changes that age brought on their own, and Lucian was forced to find another means of education. He needed to learn how to seduce a woman, and he needed to know how to do it well. After all, willing devotion with the promise of pleasure was much more effective than forced servitude through fear and threats.

With some minor delving on his part, Lucian had managed to locate a woman that he considered appropriate to be his mentor on the subject. A Spaniard now living in France, the woman once briefly aided the Revolution and was well known throughout Europe for her less than decent behavior and general promiscuousness; the woman went by the name of Teresia Cabarrus, and Lucian had an extremely easy time getting in contact with the Spaniard. Some light delving earned him the woman's address in Paris, and a few days later, a formal letter garnered him a swift response, an intense interest in the boy and the desire to meet with him as soon as it could possibly be arranged.

Thus began their correspondence and their careful coordination to arrange a rendezvous of sorts, but Teresia's circle of associates within England was rather limited and she, quite frankly, traveled in a vastly different circle than Lucian. However, the Prince's Ball was fast approaching, and La Cabarrus had managed to secure herself an invitation to the event, and both she and the so-called young Lord Blakeney would be certain to attend. This woman of the world had more that Lucian wanted than any other, and he would make sure he would have it all.

"Señora Cabarrus?" Teresia turned around and was met by the golden eyes of the boy she was to be meeting; he was beautiful, that was certain, but she saw no resemblance in the boy to the Lord Blakeney. He must have taken after his mother. But those eyes…where had she seen them before?

Smiling coyly, she extended her hand to him and as he gently kissed it, she quietly responded, "The very same, Señor. I presume you are Lucian Blakeney?"

"I am. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Likewise, Señor." There was something inexplicable charming about the boy, and it was this that intrigued La Cabarrus. But despite his allure, there was something…off, not quite right about the pale, yellow eyes; they were too cold, too cruel, too commanding to belong to the son of the admirable Percy Blakeney. But still, the boy exuded a confident but restless dynamic that drew Teresia to him, even more so when the smooth, even voice whispered, "Shall we retire to a less populated room, Señora?"

Gently nodding, she allowed the boy to lead her through the crowd and up to the library, which was completely devoid of others and completely isolated from the noise of the conversation downstairs. Teresia sat upon the couch and watched in amusement as the blonde child fidgeted nervously in a chair directly across from the Spaniard. "You do not look at all like your father, Señor."

"So I have been told," Lucian said quietly, devoid of any emotion. "You should see my brother. He looks much more like my father than I." Grinning slightly as the woman shuddered as his eyes met hers, he softly asked, "What does it matter to you?"

"Nothing much. I just expected to see the very image of Sir Percy." Naturally, she was a bit disappointed that the boy was not more like his father. It was, after all, probably the closest that she would ever get to Percy again.

"Sorry to disappoint."

Something clicked, and Teresia's eyes lit up with sudden recognition. Oh, this could be detrimental Sir Percy's relationship with his wife… "You have quite unusual eyes, Lord Blakeney."

"Shall we dispense the formalities, Madame?" Lucian asked, his voice straining in mild irritation. God, how he hated that name… "My name is Lucian, and I insist on being called as such."

"Of course, Lucian," Teresia said quietly as she leaned in closer to the boy. "But I am curious. You do not get those eyes from your father, and I have only seen their like once before."

"Oh?" Lucian's interests were officially caught. He knew that she had aided the Revolution, and it was likely that she had worked with his father before. How glorious, to have a direct contact like Teresia. "And where is that, Teresia?"

"Nowhere all that important…my former employer had eyes just like yours."

"Agent Chauvelin, correct?" The gold eyes locked with the dark brown ones in a mutual understanding; he knew that Teresia had known the agent, and she had discovered that she was, in fact, not dealing with a young Lord Blakeney as she had previously imagined.

"You seemed awfully interested in Sir Percy, Teresia. What was your relationship with him?"

"We…I…"

"Did you ever love him, Señora?"

Teresia sighed heavily in defeat. She couldn't just lie to the boy. It was definitely not in her best interests. After all, his son or not, Lucian was her best shot at getting close to Percy. "At one point, yes. I think I may still…"

Lucian smiled slyly; everyone was making this far too easy. The Spaniard had just made herself extremely easy to manipulate. Perfect. "Listen to me, Teresia. I need to ask you a favor that is going to greatly help me. Comply, and I shall do all in my power to get you in Percy's good graces. Do we have an agreement?"

She, of course, knew exactly what the snake was trying to do, and Teresia would not stand for it. She had known his father for too long to fall for the same tricks. "Perhaps, but tell me, Lord Chauvelin, how long have you known that Sir Percy is not your father?"

Lucian was taken aback at first – he had never been called that before – but quickly the shock turned into pride. "This is a recent discovery of mine, Señora."

"DoesLord Blakeneyknow?"

"He does, but is unaware of my knowledge of the matter." A brief moment of silence between them and then, almost as an afterthought, added, "Tell me about him."

"What?"

"Don't be daft, Teresia! My father. You have met him, have worked for him, and I, his son, know nothing. Tell me all you can."

Teresia nearly felt bad for the boy; he was falling apart before her eyes, quickly losing his composure and becoming a bit frantic. Sighing heavily, she gently asked, "What is it you want to know?"

"What was his full name?"

"Armand Chauvelin."

"What did he look like?"

"Well, he was tall. Not like Percy, but tall enough. Black hair, the same eyes as you. He was generally broody, many loved him, most feared him, and I have met very few who did not find him attractive. He was not beautiful like you, but in any case, he was handsome."

"And what did you do for him?"

"I did a little spy work for him. Nothing much, really. It was more of a relationship of mutual benefit. I delivered his enemies, and he kept me from the Guillotine in exchange."

Lucian fell silent as he pondered this, clasped his hands in front of him, and quietly asked, "Teresia, were you and he lovers?"

"What a question!" the Spaniard cried as she leaned back, but she was amused at the boy's presumptions. "Though I loved Lord Blakeney, I still had many lovers, but no, Chauvelin was never one of them. He cared for another and remained faithful to her memory long after she left him. A shame, really. It would have done him good to indulge himself on occasion, but I never would have been the one. Our relationship was strictly business."

"I see…" Lucian leaned against the back of his chair and ran his finger over his palm, slowly mulling over all that she had said. Well, this was certainly useful… "He was a faithful man?"

"Very. He was extremely loyal, strictly devout to all he believed in. I cannot say that he was an honest man, but he was true to his cause, which I suppose was a bit of a rarity in the fickleness of the Revolution."

"What was he like?"

Teresia did not speak for a moment, trying to recall the agent from the little she cared to tuck away into her memory. "He was very intimidating, manipulative, and rarely spoke unless he needed something from someone else, but he was extremely charming. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted, and did not hesitate to use vicious means if his charm failed him. He was a very powerful man, and did notthink twiceto wield its full force if need be."

"I see…" His father clearly did not use the same methods as Lucian did. Perhaps he was not as similar to him as he had imagined. Of course, Lucian possessed none of the power that the agent did. Not yet, at least…

Gently grasping La Cabarrus' hands in his own and beginning to tremble nervously again, he softly said, "Teresia, that you knew my father was a pure coincidence of our meeting, and I did not ask you here for that purpose, though it was very useful, and I would like to hear more on another date."

"May I ask, then, what your purpose of meting with me was?"

"Teresia, I need you to teach me how to seduce a woman."

"What?"

Lucian flushed in embarrassment; he may have been French, but he had been raised British, and his upbringing was stepping in and making this extremely difficult and awkward. "I…uh…"

"Dios mio, you are but a child!"

"I am fourteen, Señora. That is well past the age that I became capable of making love to a woman."

Teresia looked at the boy skeptically. "And you want me to teach you how?"

Lucian nodded, his eyes cast to the ground and blushing furiously. "I want you to teach me how to do it well."

Teresia leaned back, thought carefully, looked over the beautiful child. This was Chauvelin's son. She had never wanted Chauvelin, and could say almost with complete confidence that she nearly hated the man. But this was also the foster son of Percy Blakeney, the man she loved, and while he shared no relation, Lucian had still grown up with the man. Percy never could love her, never would love her, would never want her like she longed for him. But here was the boy that he raised as his own son, asking her to get close to him, to take his innocence, to teach him all that her experience had taught her. She could not have Percy, but she could have this boy, and that was probably the closest that Teresia would ever get to the baronet. "When do you wish to learn?"

Lucian's gold eyes snapped up and met Teresia's dark brown ones, stood up slowly, his legs shaking in nervousness, and extended a trembling hand to the Spaniard. "Thank you, Teresia. I can meet you tomorrow evening, if it suits you."

La Cabarrus took the boy's hand and allowed him to help her to her feet. "That will be fine, Lucian. I shall slip you the address of the place I am staying before the evening is out."

Blushing even more if it was even possible, Lucian bent over her hand and kissed it gently. "Thank you. I shall see you tomorrow then."

Frowning in disappointment, Teresia gently ran her hand across his cheek, tilted his head up and forced him to look into her eyes. "Your first lesson, Lord Chauvelin." Without another word, she firmly pressed her lips against the shocked boy's, gently running her hand across his cheek, but her arm wrapped around his waist indicated that she had no intention of letting him go.

For only a moment, Lucian tried to pull away, the British sensibilities nagging at the back of his mind about the improper nature of such conduct. But Teresia slowly drew him closer to her and he could feel the blood course much faster through his veins and felt himself slowly relax and match her movements.

Happy with the results, Teresia quickly increased the contact but was met with resistance and a slight whimper – of protest or pleasure, she was not sure – as she attempted to deepen the kiss. The boy clearly had no idea what to do. Gently caressing his face and neck and kneading the tense muscles of his shoulders, Lucian relaxed and softly moaned as the Spaniard, with painstaking slowness, ran her tongue over his.

He was suddenly light-headed, in absolute bliss, and he had no idea what was happening to him. His body was reacting violently to La Cabarrus' touch, and never in his life had he felt anything like this before. God, he wished he understood what was happening, and without his mind's consent, his hands latched to the woman's waist and pulled her closer to him, doing his best to match whatever it was that the Spaniard was doing.

The young lord whimpered in protest as Teresia pulled away from him and, smiling coyly, ran her hand through his hair, causing the boy to moan in passion. "Your first lesson, Lucian Chauvelin. Always leave the woman longing for the next time she gets to see you. Arouse her, but do not give yourself to her. Comprende?"

Lucian groaned as he dropped to his knees; it was not fair that she was going to leave him like this. He needed her right then, or he was certain that he would die, and she knew that, damn her!

Teresia softly ran her hand over the boy's chest, causing him to moan, whimper, curse, cry out in pleasure, and she softly grinned to herself. Oh, how much fun it would be to ruin this boy. If he reacted this violently to such mild stimulation, she could only imaging the thrill it would be to see him the next night. Slowly walking toward the door, enjoying how the beautiful boy's hungry eyes followed her, she softly purred, "You may want to calm down your arousal before you go back downstairs, amante." Smiling in satisfaction as the heavily breathing boy fell on the ground, she quietly whispered, "I shall see you tomorrow evening, Lucian," and left the gasping boy in solitude.

Lucian lay on the ground for well over five minutes, violently cursing the Spaniard for leaving him like this. Breathing deeply, his fiery blood finally slowed and he managed to regain control over his functions. Teresia had quite effectively managed to give him a glimpse of the power of the weapon he would soon be able to wield. Now, all he had to do was learn to hold himself like La Cabarrus, and all would be well…

How did she do that? Reduce him to nothing so quickly…it was astounding. Lucian slowly stood up, a clever smile playing across his face. Tomorrow evening, he would learn how to do that to people. Simply wonderful. As he stood, the blood rushed to his head, and he had to sit back down as his body suddenly keenly missed the touch of the Spaniard. Yet no matter how he tried, he could not shake the image of Teresia from his mind. Growling in frustration, he stood up and did his best to forget the woman and mingle as he was expected to do. Tomorrow, Teresia would teach him how to do what she did, how to be immune to the effects of passion. It was all well.

Lucian arrived at the flat where Teresia was staying in London at about six the next evening. What a hell of a time he had getting out of the house without his parents' consent and approval; everywhere he went there seemed to be a member of his family just around the corner. But at last he had managed to get out to the stables and borrow one of Percy's bay horses for the ride to London. By his logic, his family was so used to him disappearing for long time intervals, they would hardly have the time to notice he was gone before he returned.

He tentatively knocked at the door and a few moments later, the Spaniard has ushered him into the flat and quickly closed the door behind her. "Good evening, Lucian."

"To you as well, Señora."

"Let us get started. No doubt you want to be out of here soon so you can get home without worrying your mother."

"That would be beneficial, yes."

"Good." Teresia slipped her hand under the boy's jacket, thrilled at the response she received from him; no doubt the poor thing was still aching from the night before, and she had every intention of alleviating that now. But before she knew what was happening, the boy had seized her arms and roughly claimed her lips, the need and desire getting the best of him.

She indulged him for only a few moments before pulling away to the disappointment and nearly violent fury of the boy. "Slow, Lucian. The first rule is that you must maintain the upper hand, and you cannot do that if you allow passion to overtake you. Calm down. You want to be distant."

Breathing deeply, doing all in his power to obey the orders of the woman, he slowly managed to maintain control. La Cabarrus kneeled before him, and gently took his hand in her own. "Be honest, Chauvelin. Why do you want to know this?"

"I…I have something I must do. This way seems more effective than any other sort of manipulation."

"You're like your father, you know? All for a cause with no regard for others." She quickly stood up and walked a few paces away, and turned to face the boy again. "It is true that this is the best way, but be cautious, boy. Once you lose control, you lose your advantage, and this weapon becomes double-sided. Control is everything. Make them crazy, but you must remain cold. Remove yourself from them. You do this naturally, I see that, now apply it to this case."

Nodding slowly, he quietly whispered, "I understand, Teresia."

"Good boy. Remember, this is your ground rule. Never forget this, and you can have everything you wish. But once you forget, you will be destroyed. Lust and love are forms of attachment and must be severed completely. They will make you slave to your own desires. Make your women want you, but you must never want them."

"Of course."

"Good. Remove your shirt."

Lucian quickly fumbled with the buttons of his coat, his eyes never leaving the Spaniard's. Throwing the jacket aside, he began with equal haste with his shirt, but the quiet, amused voice told him to slow down, and he complied.

"The slower you go, Lucian, the more control you have over yourself and over them. Remember, they want you, and taking your time makes the ache all the more keen. Now, what do you do next?"

"I…uh…" Rolling her eyes, but smiling in amusement, Teresia slowly walked to him, grabbed his hand and gently placed it on her breast, causing the boy to shiver, flush, breathe much faster, and she softly commanded, "Breathe."

Taking a few deep breaths, Lucian had managed to calm down a bit, but the ache his body caused him was driving him mad; he needed her. Slowly drawing her to him, he gently kissed her neck as his hands undid the laces of her dress, stopping for only a moment as he felt the Spaniard's breath quicken and her hands unfastening the buckle of his belt, and it was not long before both were stripped of their clothing.

Pulling away from the boy's embrace, Teresia slowly looked the boy over. He was indeed beautiful. If his father had been anything like his son, she almost regretted never pulling him into her bed; he was truly a remarkable specimen. "Good, Lucian. Now what?"

"I…" He could not speak. Every word he had ever known had left him. There was suddenly nothing left but instinct, and he passionately kissed the beautiful woman. Slowly regaining some composure, he gently pressed her down on a couch and, her arm wrapped around his neck, was pulled down with her.

Smiling slightly and gently caressing his face, Teresia quietly asked, "You know what to do, verdad?" No answer, but with a growl, the boy gently bit her neck, slowly moved his hips against her own. Teresia sighed slightly; the boy was already gone. Of course, he had never done this before, and it was to be expected. Let him have his way for the first time, but heaven help her, this boy wished to be educated. And she had no intention of letting him leave until he got it right.