XVIIII. – The Mysterious Puzzle Piece

She stood amongst the dilapidated ruins of a run-down hovel, staring through the dim darkness at the monolithic man before her, while terrified even more by the loud shouts and howls of the angry, passing crowd beyond the thin, trembling walls.

Only a few days prior, she had stood at the steps of a great cathedral on her wedding morn, staring up at the same man. She had been confused by the strange, unexplainable difference she had seen in his eyes that early morning, but she had been unable to determine what it meant. Sir Percy Blakeney, Baronet was renowned throughout elite society as an idiot – a foppish dandy who was only interested in the latest cut of coat or the finest lace, the correct way to tie a cravat or making up silly rhymes about the infamous Scarlet Pimpernel to amuse the insipid ladies at parties.

And, struck by that thought, she whispered, "Mais... à cette époque-là... you make those little rhymes up yourself? To keep others from suspecting the truth?"

He chuckled, as though he could read her mind through the darkness. "I fear that now is not the time for questions, my lady! But rather, now is the time for you to listen carefully, and later, when you are safe, I will be completely at your disposal for whatever questions you wish to put forth." He then gestured genially towards a lumpy pile of rags in the corner, and went on, "You will find suitable clothing for our venture there, which you must don for the remainder of our journey. They are not clothes you are accustomed to, mademoiselle, but time is of the essence, as is our appearance. I will return directly; and I humbly ask you to change into your new attire as quickly as possible, while I have stepped from this room."

He made an elaborate bow, and Yvonne nodded before hesitatingly turning to pick up a couple of dirty garments in her hands.

When she looked over her shoulder, he had vanished.

For the briefest second, she panicked. Then, she forced herself to remain calm. There was no sense losing her wits. He had merely retreated to give her privacy. He was her husband's dearest friend, and she would willingly comply with his request that she swap her once-fine gown (which was now filthy and ruined from the dirty attic prison she had resided in for the past few days) for these clothes. She found that she did not need a lady's maid to unbutton her tattered dress, for she had helped Anthony unbutton it several times during their brief epoch together. And she had grown so thin from lack of nourishment that her stays practically slid off of her delicate body without her untying them. She even removed her thin shift, suddenly wanting no more of any of these clothes, for they represented a time in her life that she wished had never happened.

Then, shivering naked in the darkness, she scrambled to pull on a pair of ripped and stained breaches and a bulky, scratchy linen top. A pair of holey stockings and rough wooden sabots followed, and she quickly tried to bind her now-tangled hair with a strip of cloth she ferreted from amongst the dirty pile.

It was then that she heard the faint step of a man's foot behind her, and turning abruptly, Yvonne barely managed to clap her hand to her mouth before she uttered a scream.

For a few, tense seconds, she could only stare in horror at the awful figure before her – a grimy, disgusting object with a terrible leer – until he cracked a grin and said, "Lud love you, Lady Dewhurst. 'Tis only I!"

Gasping for breath, she released her hand from her mouth. "S'il vous plaît pardonner moi, monsieur!," she said faintly. "But you gave me such a fright!"

He laughed softly, and when he did, she suddenly found it ridiculously amusing herself. Now she pressed her hand to her mouth to keep the laughter silent. Fortunately, Sir Percy came forward at that moment, helped arrange a cap on her head to hide the unruly curls, and said cheerfully, "Unless I am much mistaken, the crowd has hence passed. It is time for us to join them. Your instructions are thus: You must stay with me at all times, and pretend that you are one of this wretched crowd. We will procure transportation from this place, and my men will meet us along the road as we make our escape." More gently, he added, "Do not fear, mon sage dame. You have been immeasurably brave thus far; as brave as any man in my League, and as brave as my own cherished wife. Will you continue your bravery, even as we escape this hell?"

"But of course, milord. I will do whatever you ask of me, if it means that I shall see my dear husband again."

Sir Percy's mouth curved mischievously. "Odd's fish, but he did say those very words to me himself! I do believe he might be worthy of you, m'dear."