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Chapter 2: Family de Beaumont
Marion Ravenwood followed the butler up the stairs. She'd gotten a note that morning with a short message, an address and a time. Apparently, Abner had been here. The woman, Marie Boiur, wanted to explain it to her.
The butler let Marion into a room and spoke to the blonde inside. 'Mademoiselle, la jeune femme que vous vouliez voir.'
The woman looked up and set her quill aside. 'Oh, qui. Magnifique. Je vous remercie, monsieur Franco.' She waved her hand and the butler left. Then she stood up and picked up a folder. Flicking it open, she read, 'Ravenwood, Marion Violet Amber.'
'Yeah.' Marion sat down.
'I'm Marie Boiur.' The Frenchwoman slapped the file closed. 'All right, Marion. Do you know what your father has you in France for?'
'Not entirely.' Something told Marion she could trust this girl. 'Something about the Royal Psalms, I'd think.'
'Hm.' Marie set the file aside and looked at her. 'So, you know a great deal more than your father believes. But exactly how much do you know?'
'I know that my ancestor, Charles Ravenwood, came to England from France,' Marion said.
Marie nodded. 'And do you know who he was before then?'
'Yes.'
'Who?'
Marion hesitated. Well, this was obviously what she brought her in for. 'Louis XVII.'
Marie smiled. 'And how did you find that out?'
'I absorbed the Psalms.'
Marie paused, eyes widening slightly. 'Why?'
'My mother.' Marion fidgeted. 'She died when I was seven. She told me, when I turned twelve, I had to open the Psalms. I did and then I sort of absorbed them while I was trying to work out what the big deal was.'
Marie chuckled. 'I see. So you know that you're the Crown Princess of France?'
'France is a republic.' Marion scowled. 'I wouldn't want to rule it anyway. I don't want to be responsible for a whole country. The rest of us would probably get our heads lobbed off.'
Marie nodded. 'Bright girl.'
'What's your part in it?'
'My father was Eugene le Boiur-Chevalier.' Marie walked around her desk and sat down in front of her. 'He was the man that the Scarlet Pimpernel was based on.'
Marion blinked, trying to get that. 'That was over a hundred and fifty years ago.'
'And I was born four years before it started.' Marie smiled. 'I'm a Holy Child.'
Marion wrinkled her nose. 'Bit corny, isn't it?'
'We didn't choose the name.'
'We?'
'There are six of us, including myself.' Marie pushed her chair back and rotated it ninety degrees. 'Once we reach maturity, we gain superhuman strength and, when we leave the last vestiges of childhood behind, we stop ageing.'
'Okay.' Marion scrutinised her. Now she could see those blue eyes would look more in place in an old woman's head rather than a woman in her twenties. She couldn't doubt the truth of Marie's words. But that made the point clear to Marion. 'So that prophecy in the Psalms basically said I'm going to give birth to the seventh Holy Child?'
'You're brighter than your papa,' Marie said.
Marion's heart started to pound. She was just a kid. She…she…'I'm not ready for any babies.'
'At your age, in this time era, I should hope not.' Marie smiled at her. 'But, don't worry. You've gotta a bit to do before you give us our newbie. For one, you've gotta find his or her father.'
That was a relief. 'What makes a Holy Child?' Marion asked.
'Firstborn of one of these heroes.'
'This hero mentioned?' Marion pointed to the notepaper.
'That's him.' Marie nodded once and continued her exposition. 'Then you have to knock some sense into him.'
That had Marion. 'I though heroes were…'
'Noble, pious, chivalrous, blah, blah, blah.' Marie rolled her eyes. 'They're not. Those are fairytales. To our sort, boring men in dream worlds. Real heroes are hardly ever acknowledged and, even then, they're seen as either fictional characters or fables.'
'Like your father?' Marion asked.
'And Jordan's.' Marie smiled at her. 'Real heroes are deeply flawed men who get in deadly situations, often because of a refusal to turn the other cheek, and not only get out alive but also get nearly everyone else out alive as well.'
Marion smiled. 'So exactly the kind of man you want.'
'Eventually.' Marie shrugged. 'First, you sort of have to train him. You have to make him work for your love. You can't just fall into his arms…' She paused. 'Figuratively speaking only. Literally, you would've fallen off of something and his not catching you would hurt like a bitch, or possibly kill you.'
Marion grinned. 'Had this happen, I take it?'
'Seen it happen.' Marie grinned. 'Heroes start out crude and easily excitable. But by the time the Holy Child is five, papa is wrapped around mama's finger and keeps his business in his pants except in their bed.'
Marion's sheltered brain took a moment to work out what that meant. 'So you mean he sleeps around with any woman that catches his eye?'
'Oui. This is the way he'll be living now.' Marie nodded. 'But I can see, I'm going to have to teach you how to be a woman before you meet him.'
'You'll teach me how to…?' This was the one thing Marion had always wanted: someone to show her how to mature from girl to woman. Even though she'd never admit it, she knew she needed it. 'How?'
'We'll start by playing nice with Abner, keep him in Paris long enough for you to learn.' Marie turned and looked at a painting behind her. It showed a beautiful blonde Frenchwoman, from around the time Marie was born judging by the looks of her dress. Marie smiled nostalgically. 'Let's start with your birthright, shall we? Marion, have you ever heard of D'Eon de Beaumont?'
'He was that French guy that dressed up like a woman, wasn't he?' Marion asked.
'Mind you, there was a reason he did so.' Marie stood up and gestured to the painting, turning her eyes back to Marion. 'This is Lia de Beaumont, D'Eon's elder sister. She belonged to a secret society, an agent of King Louis XV and she was murdered for discovering the royal secret.'
'The royal secret?' Marion asked.
'Louis XIV foresaw – through the Royal Psalms – that his son would bring about the end of the royal family in France. In consequence, Louis XV was swapped in his crib with another child, who took his place and the true king became known as Maximilien Robespierre. You know the name?'
Marion nodded. 'The leader of the French Revolution.'
'Well, he died before the revolution, actually,' Marie explained. 'A young boy called Robin took the name and the Psalms and led the common people. It was only after he was killed that we got the Psalms back and returned them to your ancestor. But, as for Lia, after she died she fused her soul with her brother's. That is why D'Eon de Beaumont dressed in women's clothes. Over time, they became unsure who was who. By the time I met them, they referred to the one body as "we". I went with papa to return the Psalms to your ancestor, but first we were able to look inside.'
'How come?'
'Because Lia was the illegitimate child of Louis XIV,' Marie said. 'Even though she wasn't viewed as royalty, she was a member of the bloodline and she could open the book.' Marie crossed over, picked up a small journal and took a piece of paper out of it. 'When that happened, this was the first prophecy the Psalms gave us.' She handed it over.
Marion took the paper and read it.
The final daughter of France shall entwine with a hero
Despite opposition, their souls shall love
And their bodies shall bear the seventh Holy Child.
'Opposition?' Marion asked. 'Abner?'
'Undoubtedly.' Marie crossed the room and knelt by a chest. She started working the combination lock. 'The "final daughter of France" reference was always a mystery to us. It shouldn't have been because of the Holy Child prophecy.'
Marion guessed it wasn't surprising: firstborns of heroes with that kind of power. There had to be a prophecy somewhere. 'What did it say?'
'Well, there were always clues about how each of us would be born,' Marie said. 'The circumstances, I mean. Like my lines were "born to a faux fool" and then "stop the heads that roll".'
Marion nodded slowly. 'So that was a reference to the revolution and the real Scarlet Pimpernel acted like an idiot in everyday life?'
'That's right. Your kid's lines are "born upon a madman's battlefield" and "the last child of a monarchy". We just have to work out who the madman is.' Marie opened the chest. 'Lia and D'Eon wanted you to have something as well. They left it with us.' She reached in and pulled out a sword and sheath. Bringing it back, she held it out to Marion. 'Le Sabre de Beaumont. Infused with the power of the Royal Psalms.'
Marion forced out a laugh. 'I don't know how to sword fight.'
'That's all right,' Marie told her. 'I'll teach you. And to add more power and skill, just recite the Psalm of Vengeance.' She grinned. 'Mind you, you've got to have anger at whoever you're facing off.'
Marion grinned and took the sword. The crucifix at the handle started glowing red and then it spread to the whole weapon. Marion watched the power soak into the blade and then she looked up at Marie.
The Frenchwoman smiled. 'It's accepted you as its mistress.'
