Weeks went by and it seemed Hindley and Francis were more in love than ever. As well as tutoring Young Arthur, Francis was also working with the Master, overseeing the estate and helping out where he could. Hindley had relented and made sure that he had some independence and wasn't such a control freak as he had been. Their nights were filled with passion and desire, sometimes Hindley would be in control again, but he loved it when Francis took the initiative and made love to him. It was very much a happy home, and Francis was feeling more like himself again, having his own clothes, his own money, but especially not being treated like an object. All was well, but Lord Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy from the future were being watched, they just didn't know it. In France, his 1828 counterpart sat at his desk in his overly elaborate office as Mr Picardy entered. He looked dishevelled and dirty, and he held his cap in his hand as he nervously stood there.
"Tell me again what you saw Mr Picardy?" Francis Marcel asked "I don't think I heard you right the first time… or maybe I don't believe it…"
"Lord Kirkland is in a relationship with a man who calls himself Francis Bonnefoy… he looks like you, and he sounds like you…" Mr Picardy said looking down to the floor, not looking the great Empire of France in the eyes. He couldn't, as Francis Marcel was so above him and so refined, and so fierce in his reputation.
"How can that be possible?" Marcel wondered as he sat there curling his hand under his chin. "You've been working on the Kirkland estate for six weeks Mr Picardy, surely there's something you've found out about him."
"Well…" Began Mr Picardy "I know that he once dressed him up like a girl…"
"Lady Francine…!" gasped Marcel. "I knew she was French… I just didn't realise she was… me…" he uttered. "You are dismissed Mr Picardy…" He said as he grabbed his elaborate blue coat and unnecessary walking stick. He had things to do, and first of all he travelled to the Kingdom of Spain where Antonio Diego was in the midst of a very entertaining bullfight. The creature had already gored one of the matadors and it was up to Diego to calm the beast, which he did with precision and skill.
He bowed to the crowd and as he was leaving the arena Francis Marcel stopped him. "Diego.." he said with secrecy in his voice as he stopped him. "I need your help."
Later in Diego's office, Francis Marcel reiterated what Mr Picardy had told him. "England is in a relationship with this replica of me…" he said "According to Mr Picardy, he calls himself Francis Bonnefoy, he speaks French and he's identical to me. The thought of it makes me sick." He continued as Spain laughed so hard.
"That is truly impossible Marcel!" he chuckled "Where in the world is he going to find someone who looks exactly like you Senor?"
"Lady Francine!" He said angrily, and Diego's face dropped. When he thought about it he realised that Lady Francine was actually a very tall woman and he remembered she had an adams apple as well…he went sort of pale.
"Oh God!" he gasped "She did look like you but she was … he was… I thought there was something different about her… him…"
"It is sick!" Marcel replied. "You cannot imagine how offended and angry this makes me…"
"I can." Diego replied. "After all we all fancied her…"
"I have a plan… it will involve you, and Gilbert… who we shall go to see later today." Marcel replied. "Will you help?"
"Si Senor!" Diego replied "This is a curious situation… I wonder how he could have come across someone identical to you?"
A couple of days later they arrived in Prussia where Gilbert was in his palace plotting some world takeover with some soldiers. When Spain and France arrived, he acted like nothing was wrong and dismissed all the soldiers.
"What's… going on?" Marcel asked curiously.
"Nothing… just a Vunderbarr meeting of mien closest friends … is not a world takeover meeting at all…hahahaha…" he said sounding strange.
"Wait till you hear what is happening in England at this very moment…" Diego said trying not to laugh.
Angrily Marcel shoved him and then turned to Gilbert. "Did you notice anything strange about "Lady Francine" the last time we were at Lord Kirkland's dreadful little hovel he calls a mansion?"
"OH Ja… the ladyboy Kirkland was with…Ja…"
"You know?" Marcel asked, sort of deflated.
"Ja… was obvious… Vot is the problem?" Gilbert asked as he smoked a cigar. "Nothing wrong with that at all… is perfectly norm…al…" he uttered realising that Marcel was actually quite angry. "Vot is it?"
"Marcel thinks Lady Francine is a replica of him…which I tell him is ridiculous…" laughed Diego. "But I must admit, when I think of it, she did look like him a lot…"
"Shut up! Stop laughing, this is not funny!" Marcel hissed.
"Yes, it is funny Senor… it seems England is in love with you… "
Gilbert also laughed. "If you don't mind me saying, you make a beautiful freuline, Marcel." He giggled.
"Shut up… shut up!" he cried. "You have no idea what you are saying…"
"Ja ve do Marcel." Gilbert replied "You and England have a lot of history."
"That is none of your business. I do not like Arthur Hindley Kirkland, or his country, and I feel violated."
Gilbert and Diego fell about in fits of laughter as they thought about the situation.
"I will have them both guillotined!" he said "This is sacrilege!"
"Ja… is definitely humiliating for you." Gilbert said. "But I have a better idea than the guillotine…"
A week or so went by and Gilbert, Diego and Marcel worked on their plan which was ingenious, but it meant Francis Marcel having to rehearse a part, almost like in a play. Gilbert's plan was to both humiliate and destroy the relationship between Hindley and Francis, and that was only the beginning.
On Tuesdays, this was Francis' time off. He was left alone in the mansion with the servants while Hindley went to do his duties, and Young Arthur was with his friends. He enjoyed his Tuesday mornings and sometimes would cook for Hindley when he came home. The doorbell rang, and as usual Townsend went to answer it, only to be confronted by Marcel, Diego and Gilbert, who smiled politely at first. "Is the Master at home?" he asked.
"Oh, I am afraid you missed him Sirs, would you like to come in and wait?"
Marcel, Diego and Gilbert looked at each other with menacing smiles, and then to a very confused and frightened Mr Townsend before Marcel produced a frying pan from behind his back. "Goodnight Monsieur!" he said before whacking him over the head and knocking him out. At the sound of something happening in the hallway that didn't seem right, Francis naturally rushed through, only to be confronted by his 1828 counterpart and his two friends who were all flabbergasted when they saw him. He took a few steps back, by now very afraid of this situation.
"Is incredible…" Diego said as he circled him. "He looks exactly like you…" he said as Marcel stepped forward.
"What is this witchcraft…?" he uttered. "Comment allez vous monsieur?"
Defiantly, although afraid, Francis answered him. "Je suis Francis Bonnefoy, France… as you are… Monsieur…" he replied.
"How did this happen?" Marcel asked, as he gazed in wonderment. "You are exactly like me… but obviously you are not me…"
"I am from a different time." Francis replied, knowing they wouldn't believe him, but he had to tell the truth. "From 1946. I was sent back in time accidentally, but later by choice… I am a time traveller."
"Time travel does not exist… C'est impossible…" Marcel replied.
"No… the word you want is implausible…" Francis answered "Nothing is impossible Monsieur. You are my Great Grandfather…"
"I do not believe you…" Marcel replied in a sinister tone as Gilbert moved behind Francis with the frying pan in his hand.
"I assure you that's what happened." Francis replied. "I fell through the ether and ended up here with Arthur Hindley Kirkland…"
"Who you… love? Right?" Marcel asked "Is he your Amour Angleterre? Oui?"
"Oui. I am not ashamed to say I love him."
Marcel paced the floor and turned to him. "You forget monsieur, I am France… and I do not love him. If anything, I hate his guts!" he said.
With that Gilbert hit Francis over the head with the frying pan and knocked him out.
It was a few hours later, but Hindley came home to find the front door open wide and Townsend sort of coming around from being knocked out. He'd been unconscious for hours and had a terrible headache, but he was able to open his eyes. Hindley got off his horse and ran into the house, first of all helping Townsend up from the floor.
"What happened? My God are you alright?" he cried.
"I was assaulted sir… the Kingdom of…S..Spain…France… and…Prussia…" he struggled to say.
"What?" gasped Hindley in shock. He looked into the hallway and saw Francis laying there as if he was dead, and he screamed out loud, terrified that he had been killed.
"Francis!" he cried, running to him. He slipped his arm under his head and held him close, hoping to God he wasn't actually dead. The Frenchman slowly came round as Hindley held him there. "Oh God you're alive…" He mumbled "Oh Francis… what happened? What happened?" He uttered.
"They were…here…" gasped Francis "Spain…Prussia… my Great Grandfather Marcel…" he mumbled. "…hit me… "
"Oh… no…" Hindley cried and held him. "They shall pay, I shall send my soldiers!" he said. "How could they do this to you? Why?"
"They know I was Lady Francine…" Francis sighed as Hindley helped him to his feet. "They said we have to end our affair or…or…"
"Or what?" Hindley asked "What will they do?"
"France threatened the guillotine…" he said quietly, as he stumbled and held his head. Hindley caught him and helped him through to the lounge to sit down. "They see our relationship as something evil…" he mumbled. "What are we going to do…?"
Townsend was helped to his room by Mrs Bailey and some of the other servants whilst Hindley took care of Francis. However, all was not what it seemed.
Miles away in a carriage, Francis Bonnefoy found himself coming around, and yet was tied up, his hands bound behind his back and sitting next to him, Diego Carriedo and across from him Gilbert Beilschmidt. They had replaced him with Marcel and were now taking him somewhere safe.
"W...what are you doing? Where are you taking me? What have you done?" Francis asked in a panic as he struggled to get free, even though the pain in his head was excruciating.
"You will be kept safe with us…" Gilbert said and laughed. "Do not try to struggle Herr Bonnefoy, it will only hurt that way."