Hooooo shoot me now. =_= Ugh sorry finals suck. Anyway on to more. Sorry my chapters aren't very long. But I'll get the next one up soon I think.

Also, thank you to all the people who have reviewed/put this on their alert list. I am very very grateful. And please, do not hesitate to point out anything that you think is ooc. Anachronisms… well I'm not very good at avoiding them. =_= Otherwise, thanks for reading. :)

Chapter 5

"You took an oath of unquestioning obedience when you joined this league, Tony. Trust me now, as you have on so many other occasions despite your feelings."

Tony hesitated for a moment then sighed resignedly. "Yes, of course Percy. You know I trust you. It's just after everything that's happened over the past few days… first you and now Andrew. Well you can understand my unrest, can't you?"

"I understand fully, old chap, but it's what we do. Can't let them Frenchies have their own way about things, what?" he added with a raised eyebrow. Tony cracked a smile despite himself and nodded.

"Very well. I'll inform Galveston and Stowmarries. The Blue Bull at midnight?"

"Yes. Farewell for now, Tony. And don't even think about getting caught on the way." The younger man chuckled and headed for the door, giving a nod in reply.

"Don't get into any trouble yourself. Beastly awful thing to be done in by a cold, don't ya know?" he replied in a foppish drawl. They shared a laugh as Tony left, closing the door behind himself. Blakeney could hear his voice in the hall, reassuring Marguerite. Farewells were said then his wife slipped back into the room.

"Oh Percy, please tell me you're not going back over to France," she said worriedly, skirts rustling as she rushed over and sat on the bed. "Chauvelin is still searching for you. He won't stop, you know that as well as I." He grasped her hand and stared down at her fingers entwined in his.

"Darling, you know Chauvelin to be a cunning, determined man. But my staying holed up in England won't do me or any of those needing assistance in France any good. I understand your fears but my dear, I must help Andrew. Chauvelin…"

"Chauvelin wants you dead, Percy. Dead! You're barely able to stand let alone make the trip all the way to France! Why can't you let Tony do it? Or the rest of the league? Have them risk their lives, but not you. Not now, not in this condition." He opened his mouth to answer but she swept off the bed, pacing and wringing her hands.

"And what of me?" she said, turning to him with glistening eyes. "Do you care for me? Your own wife? Who was worried sick about you. Will you leave me to wait for you here, wondering if I'll ever see you alive again?" She looked at him intently then turned away from him again, unable to bear the silence. He moved from the bed to where she stood, turning her around to face him. She refused to look up at him, tears dropping silently to the floor between them.

"Margot," he pleaded, putting a hand beneath her chin and gently raising her face to his. "I understand how this upsets you but won't you have a little faith in me? Ffoulkes needs me now. What kind of leader would I be if I left him in his most dire time of need? And think of little Suzanne, so recently engaged. Should she have to lose her fiancé because I refuse to try and save him? Chauvelin took him because he is close to me, because he knows I would do anything to save him or any other member of the League. He's counting on that. But Margot," he said imploringly, holding her face in his hands and wiping away her tears. "Trust in me. I will return to you. Through Hell and the Devil himself if need be."

His eyes shone with a determination she knew she could not shake. Hanging her head in defeat she allowed him to pull her to his chest, the warmth from his body slowly calming her. He led her back to the bed and held her tightly until she fell asleep in his arms. She had continued to cry, sometimes waking, grasping for him in fright. She would cling to him then, holding tightly for reassurance, hot tears wetting the silk of his shirt. But then she would calm, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the strong beat of his heart.

It was thusly that Percy spent his time until at last the hour of departure came. Marguerite had fallen into a deep sleep, initially so troubled, and he was able to move without waking her. Percy slipped from the bed casting a longing glance at his sleeping wife. Shaking his head to gather his thoughts, he went first to his study. His valet was waiting faithfully.

"Everything's in order, sir," the manservant said lowly. "Your horse has been ordered and a courier sent this afternoon to Captain Briggs to inform him of your departure. My I help you into your traveling clothes, sir?"

"Very good. Thank you Frank. Yes, I think I shall change now." Frank bowed slightly and preceded the baronet to his rooms, the candelabra he held casting flickering shadows as they walked. Percy changed quickly and returned to his study, sitting heavily at the desk. He frowned over the piece of stationary before him then wrote a brief note. Frank reentered and Sir Percy handed him the envelope, detailing a few instructions.

Time was precious, but not so precious as the woman he was leaving. Quietly, he slipped down the corridors until he stopped at her door. It opened silently, booted feet muffled against the ornate rugs. She turned in her sleep and his heart all but leapt from his chest. He stood at the side of her bed watching her sleep. He dared not think how she would react in the morning upon discovering him gone. His brows furrowed in dismay. He prayed she would understand.

"Mon coeur," he whispered, pressing a kiss lightly to her forehead. "Forgive me."

He was gone as silently as he had come. He made his way done the wide staircase to the main entryway. Frank met him at the door, helping him into his greatcoat then following him down to the gravel drive where his horse had been brought around. Mounting, he turned to Frank.

"Keep her safe." The man nodded firmly. "And Frank…"

"Yes sir?"

"Don't let her do anything foolish again. If Chauvelin finds her in France there will be hell to pay and more then just Andrew's life on the line."

"Yes, sir. You can count on me, sir. God speed." Percy smiled faintly up at one of the windows then spurred his horse and flew.

It was right on the hour when Sir Percy arrived at the Tavern of the Blue Bull. Tony, who had been pacing at the window, came rushing out to greet him. A stable boy came to take the horse and Tony informed him that he had ordered fresh mounts for all of them.

"Galveston and Stowmarries and are still inside… no wait, here they come." Sure enough, two English gentlemen filed out of the tavern and walked quickly over.

"Now what's all this about, Percy?" Galveston asked as he approached. "Tony says Andrew's been captured."

"Yes, apparently by our good friend Chauvelin."

"And you, Percy?" Stowmarries asked earnestly. "Are you sure you're in fair condition to make the journey?"

"Whether I am or not is irrelevant. Andrew is in trouble. Can we do aught but try to help him?" The men nodded, a chorus of agreement meeting him.

"Good. Now, I'll tell you my plan when we reach the Daydream. Until then, onward to Dover. And ride hard. We've not a moment to lose."