Woot to the fast writing, guys! Here's the next chapter, signed, sealed and delivered! I originally hated this chapter, but I went and re-did it, so it's alright now. And now I can get the story up and running, as my set up is done. Prepare to unleash Hell, people!

Oh, and just as a cool note. This thing is now, chapterwise, longer than my previous Magnum Opus, Falcon in the Dive, and is 20,000 words longer. I just think that's pretty cool.

Disclaimer: Everything mentioned in this chapter is mine! Except for Lord Tony. He's not. And just for refference, in case you're too dumb to figure it out on your own, the Scarlet Pimpernel isn't mine either.

Soon the Moon Will Smoulder

Chapter 12: But I Will Resurrect That Dream

The next few months were torturous, and Lucian spent them in solitude as much as he could, and when that was not possible, they were spent out of the company of Helouise. He was well aware of the dangerous game that he had involuntarily began to play, and he avoided the woman at all cost in an attempt to stop the longing and yearning for the pretty thing, hoping beyond all reason that the separation could make him forget her, make him stop loving her. He had even unnecessarily pulled Tacey into his bed in hopes that the intimacy would cure him of the intolerable lust for his sister, but it did nothing and only made him want her all the more.

That minor issue aside, thing were going quite well for Lucian, in a relative sense. Ellison still remained powerless, Tacey, Acton and Gilles were at his every beck and call, and his entire family was entirely ignorant of his schemes. And then there was Tambre, Tony's other daughter. That girl was becoming troublesome. Unlike her sister, she was smart. Far too smart for her own good, unfortunately, and that made her a less that useful asset.

Not that his spies were not intelligent, mind you. Both Acton and Gilles were smart men, but they were loyal, extremely trusting. Tambre was not so. The spiteful girl was suspicious, wary of even the most innocent of things, and that put her at odds with Lucian. Even when he first employed her help, she showed signs of distrust and future betrayal, and those unfortunate traits in her had only magnified; he had to threaten her with the promise of torture and death to get her to help him, and it seemed like it would not be long before he would be forced to make those threats into promises.

She still brought him what was asked of her, but the important tasks he gave to her less intelligent sister; he could not risk Tambre Dewhurst knowing of the base foundation of his plans. It would not be long before the girl would become an extremely valuable asset to Ellison; it was best to exploit her for as long as he could before that time came. Pity for her that Lucian had not even begun to work his charm on her, but it was due time that he did. After all, she could still be of use to him, if for no other reason, to ensure that Ellison could not have her until he was ready to let her go. Time to get to work.

Tambre walked carefully down the hall, a heavy package held in her arms. She came to Lucian's room, kicked the door, and entered when he opened it, struggling under the weight of the parcel as she walked into the room. She placed the package on the desk and breathed a sigh of relief to be rid of the blasted thing. "And what on earth do you need that for?" she asked impatiently as the man ran his hands over the paper.

"That is my business, Tambre."

"And you made it my business, Lucian, when you asked me to retrieve it for you."

Grinning softly as he unwrapped the package and held up an iron press, carefully examining the backward letters the raised above the even surface. "I like metal, Tambre."

"You like the Revolution, that's what you like," she said firmly as she sat upon the bed. "Honestly, Lucian. Do you think I am daft? Liberte, egalite, fraternite; if it is not a minor obsession to have the revolutionary slogan upon a piece of metal, than I have no conception of what it."

"It is a rather nice slogan, don't you think?"

"A nice idea, but look how that turned out," she said somewhat softly as her deep blue eyes followed the man as he paced about the room, admiring the handiwork of his new possession. "A few years of bloodshed and thousands of people unnecessarily killed. It was a mess."

"Only for a year. The idea was a good one. It started on the right track. Then Robespierre went a touch insane."

"It didn't work, Lucian," Tambre said indifferently. "France is a monarchy again. So much for that idea."

"Idiot, look at America. It works there. Why not in France? It just needs to be handled correctly. All they need to do is get Napoleon out, and they can make the Republic work."

Tambre sat quietly for a moment, watching the man stroke the fine lettering, her mind turning very quickly. "This is what this is all about? You want to make France a Republic?"

Lucian tensed, looked over his shoulder at the defiant woman. "Clever girl, Tambre. How did you come up with that?"

"It was hardly difficult. The obsession with Chauvelin, your new little toy, what you just said. It seems pretty obvious to me."

Smiling softly and approaching the girl, he softly stroked her cheek, kissed her lightly, and quietly said, "That's why I like you, Tambre."

"And there's another thing! What are you doing to my sister?"

"Whatever do you mean, my darling Tambre?"

"Don't you dare pull that on me, Lucian!" she snapped, pushing herself away from the man. "Do you not think I've noticed? Do you think I'm blind? My mother and father may just put it off as her head being in the clouds, but I know better! Some evenings she is completely dazed, and I cannot get through to her. You're doing something to her, Lucian, and I want to know what it is."

"Oh, come now, Tambre," he said quietly, pulling her into his embrace, "you know I do that to people. I can't help it."

"I thought you loved me, Lucian."

Smiling softly, he gently caressed her cheek. "And who is to say I don't?"

"I'm not stupid like she is, Luc! I know you're lying when you say you do. Try being honest for once."

"You want honesty, Tambre?" Lucian snapped, quickly releasing the girl. Christ, she was hard to manipulate! "Alright, here it is. I don't love your sister. Not at all, and you can tell her I said so. She's stupid, and she won't believe you, but tell her anyway if you are so inclined. Between the two of you, she is by far more useful to me. But," he slowly drawled, approaching her again running his hands down her arms, "I like you better. You are much more intelligent than she and I like that. And that is why I still need your help."

Tambre looked at him skeptically. What kind of game was he playing this time? "Help with what?"

Grinning softly, he gently pressed his lips to hers, and she tensed for but a moment before relaxing and kissing him back. He slowly broke, quietly asked, "Do you love me, Tambre?"

"Answer my question first, you snake."

"Insults don't suit a pretty thing like you." Pausing for a moment, loosening his hold on her, he softly said, "I need you to help me keep Allison Ffoulkes away from me."

"What? Why Allison? She is such a sweet girl!"

"Perhaps, but she has developed, shall we say, quite the bothersome infatuation with me, and I simply cannot allow it to continue. Distancing myself from her seems the only viable option."

Breathing a heavy sigh, Tambre tiredly asked, "Lucian, don't you like it when people love you? And I don't think you need to worry about the distancing yourself, you are already a cold, uncaring bastard." Pausing for a moment, she quickly added, "Why just her?"

"There is only her."

"And what of my sister? She cannot get enough of you. Is that not the same thing?"

Shaking his head in disappointment, he softly scolded, "Tambre, I thought you were smarter than that. Tacey doesn't love me." Grinning softly and holding her tighter, he quietly asked, "And the answer to my question?"

"You're attractive, Lucian, and I like to think I don't love you, but I really cannot say. In any case, it's probably not the same thing that Allison feels for you. I don't trust you enough."

Smiling softly and looking down at her lovely features, he softly asked, "Would you believe me if I said that I am quite fond of you?"

"I would believe you if you said that you like me because I have a use to you."

"Ah, but my dear, your usefulness had run out. I really don't need you anymore." Which was true, he wouldn't lie to himself. The only value the Dewhurst twin possessed was the undisputable fact that she could be of use to Ellison, which simply could not be allowed. Not yet, at least. Once he got to France, let her run to the young Lord Ffoulkes, he could care less. But for now, he needed her quiet.

"Then why still treat me like this!" she cried, pulling out of his arms and turning away from him. "You don't need me anymore, so there is no reason to still pretend that you love me."

"Then you really are not as intelligent as I thought," he said softly, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her, laying his head on her shoulder and gently nuzzling her neck. "I said I was fond of you, Tambre. You didn't believe me, did you? Now, let me ask you, if you were so sure I was only using you, why come back to me every time I asked?"

"I…I had always hoped that maybe there was the chance that you were being sincere."

Softly kissing her cheek, he pulled her closer, waited for her to relax against him. "And suppose I told you that I was being sincere, would you believe me?"

"I don't know."

He gently turned her around, placed his fingers under her chin and lifted her head so their eyes met. There was a confused adoration in the girl's eyes, and Lucian couldn't help but smile; he had her. "Then believe me when I say I am honest."

"And if I can't?" she asked softly, completely dazed. Oh, she didn't know anything anymore. She had this nagging feeling at the back of her mind that told her that he was not to be trusted, but those strange eyes of his relayed a certain affection that she was quite certain she had never seen before, and she found herself unable to resist the man any further.

Holding her closer and smiling in satisfaction as she whimpered when he caressed her cheek, he leaned close to her ear and smoothly said, "Then let me show you."

Tambre could do nothing. His arm around her waist, his lips on her own, his hand slowly sliding her dress off her shoulders…it was maddening, a bit frightening, and she could do nothing but trust him. She still was not sure if she loved him, but she did like what he was doing to her, and wrapping her arms around his neck, she silently urged him to continue.

There was something exhilarating in it, knowing that he had this power over a woman who didn't trust him, who was on to his plans, and who he would later be forced to destroy. Conquering her was by far more thrilling than any of his previous victories. Removing the remaining of her clothing, he gently placed her on the bed, leaned above her and pinned her arms above her head. "Promise me you will not tell anyone of this."

"Lucian…please…"

"You want me, Madame? Make me this promise. No one must know."

She stared up at the man for a moment, trying to get her bearings. She knew full well that she was playing into his plans – she had been for the past two years – but she was in this so deep now, that there really was no going back. Slowly nodding, she managed to whisper, "I promise."

Grinning slightly, almost maliciously, he leaned over her, kissed her again. A damn shame, really, that her usefulness had expired. All he could hope to do now was trick her into thinking that she loved him long enough for him to get out of France. Once he was there, let Ellison and Tambre try as they might to raise resistance, they would fail. He could only be damaged here in England, and so long as Ellison didn't have the concrete evidence that Tambre could provide, he was safe. And that was easy enough to do. Lull the woman into a false sense of security, make her trust him, make her think she loved him, and that was easy enough.

He had gotten up immediately, dressed himself as quickly as possible as soon as he had indulged the woman. It was a waste of his time to spend anymore time lying around than absolutely necessary, and the typical caressing and sweet talking that he engaged in with Tacey were not needed here; she was still of use and needed such attentions, Tambre's use to him had just expired.

Quickly walking over to the woman who lay slightly shuddering in his bed, he smoothed back her hair, gently kissed her forehead. "Get dressed, darling."

Moaning softly, Tambre quietly whispered, "I love you, Lucian."

He stared in mild disgust at the woman. Christ, it was the same thing with all of them! How utterly irritating. Foolish creatures, women were, in the way they took the act of making love as love itself…

He stopped short, eyes widening and a hopeful grin spreading across his face. If he was accurate in his assumption, then Helouise…

"Lucian?" She had the feeling that they had just done something very far from the realm of normal behaviour, and she was terribly confused, and a bit angry about her dependence on the man. Not an hour ago, she didn't trust him. She still did not, but now she was forced to. He had a conception of what had just passed between them, and she was lying there completely vulnerable without an inkling as to what happens next. And, oh how she wanted him to come back to her…

"Get dressed, Tambre. Heaven knows when your father would want you."

"What did we just do?"

Lucian groaned in irritation and made a mental note to only pull stupid women in to his bed in the future. At least they would just accept the pleasure without questioning the reasons behind it or what just passed. "Tambre, listen, it's not important. Get dressed."

"But, Lucian, I –"

"Heavens, Tambre! If you really want to know, ask your father! I am sure he will give you a proper explanation! Now, for the last time, get dressed."

Tambre blushed furiously, held the sheets up to her chest. "Luc, I…I can't do that!"

Sighing hopelessly, he ran his hand over his face. Why, God, would this woman not listen to him? "Either way, Tambre, get dressed. It would do you no good were your father to find you in your current state."

Without a pause, Tambre slid out of bed and began pulling her clothing on. "But, Lucian? I…what happened between us? I believe this is something that I need to know…"

"What do you make of it?"

"What?"

"What I think about what came to pass between us is obsolete. What really matters is what you believe it to be."

"I…" She threw her arms around Lucian and buried her head against his chest. "I think we shared something that only people in love can experience."

He smiled slightly and gently kissed her. "Then let it be so. Now, get dressed."

It took half an hour for Lucian to actually get Tambre to dress herself, and even then, he was forced to do most of it himself, the girl was in such a daze. But he had managed to get her down to her parent's without any incident, save for the fact that the love struck girl would not let go of him, which earned him some perfectly vicious glares from Lord Tony. At least the woman would no longer be a problem to him for the short remainder of time he had left in England.

As soon as he had managed to pry Tambre off of him and bid farewell to the Dewhurst family, he sprinted up the stairs, grabbed his plate of metal, and rushed to his study, quickly locking the door behind him. Placing the item upon his desk, he quickly started a fire in the fireplace on the back wall, returned to his desk, and resumed his admiration of the superb craftsmanship of the iron press. The elegant letters rising up from the smooth surface were indeed beautiful, the entire phrase written backwards and with a shallow downward arch. The entire thing was little more than foot across, but the detail of the work was prominent, even from a distance. Carefully picking up the piece by the wooden handle, he turned the metal to face his body and lightly pressed it against his body; the entire phrase fit neatly across his chest. Perfect.

He carefully laid the steel in the flames, the wood of the handle sticking out past the threshold, and he leaned back in his chair, watching the fire with a look of intense satisfaction on his face. Breathing deeply, he removed his jacket and slowly undid the buttons of his shirt. He wasn't obsessed with the revolution, oh no; he was the living embodiment of it, just as his father had been.

He quickly stood up, draped his coat and shirt across the chair and restlessly paced back and forth across the room. He had everything he needed; he had established permanent allies, made certain that his enemies were temporarily obsolete and knew all he needed for his revenge. England held no more use to him; he could leave…

But that would mean leaving Helouise. Despite all his separation from the girl, he still wanted her, and had managed to come to accept that he was, in fact, in love with the girl. Damn that. So much for heeding signs of his demise. But there was little to be done about that. He had managed to convince himself that, once he had his fill of the lovely woman, he could forget her, put her to the side as he had done with the others; they meant nothing to him, why should she? It was quite possibly nothing more than the thrill of the chase, the desire to have what he could not. Once he had taken Helouise, he would be free of her, and he could leave without the nagging longing that plagued him everyday.

He looked into the fire again and saw the metal glowing a dull red; so it was ready. Breathing deeply and trying to quell the shaking, he reached out with a trembling hand and gripped the handle. Dropping to his knees, he pulled the iron out of the fire and aimed the glowing, red metal to his chest and froze; he could feel the heat coming off the plate, even as he held it half a foot from his body, and it forced him to reconsider his decision making skills. Liberte, egalite, fraternite…everything that he, his father, the Republic stood for was contained in those three words. No, this was necessary; he had already dedicated his heart and soul to his cause. It was not such a leap to dedicate his body as well. Firm in his resolve, he pressed the iron to his chest.

There was a searing pain, an intense heat that ran through his entire body. He trembled, tears filled his eyes, and he bit down on his tongue to keep from crying out in pain, but still he held firm. His body began to go numb, and his entire chest throbbed, the pain dissipating as his vision began to tunnel and the room began to spin around him. He finally removed the iron and cast it back into the flames, and fell upon the ground, sobbing in anguish and clutching at the burned, blackened skin of his chest. Gasping slightly, his eyes slipped closed and he went limp as he fell in to unconsciousness.