Thankfully Christophe had interrupted before they could have asked any further questions, and I used the excuse to walk away from them. I returned to keeping them at length, for I was afraid that my melancholy would seep into them if I stayed too close, and they were finally beginning to show happiness at being home, settling into themselves, revitalising old loves or tending to new ones…I did not wish to be the cause of distress, or see them flinch with guilt whenever they saw me.
I busied myself to keep away from them, focusing on meeting the needs of the veteran soldiers and reestablishing order where I could in the city. If they were able to take up work, I helped them to find it, even creating offices where veteran soldiers could volunteer as nightwatchmen or escort the food deliveries throughout the city. So long as they found occupation that was helpful, they seemed satisfied enough as I continued to work on providing them some form of pension.
There was always something more to do, always another trouble. My main concern was feeding the city, and so I made efforts to use my lands in Pinon, as well as the Rochefort and Belgard estates to provide what food we could spare. All of them were under my administration, so whatever went spare was siphoned into the city of which I could allocate as I saw it was needed. I focused primarily on St Antoine, the Court of Miracles and other boroughs which were less lucrative than other areas, where mostly the elderly, infirm or young dwelled. Whenever I brought the latest cart of provisions, I was always met eagerly, and sometimes I even packed little gifts for the children such as toys so that they might be distracted from their hunger. There simply was not enough to go around.
It boiled my blood to think of the Queen of England, recently in residence at the palace after being robbed of her diamonds. England was facing its own troubles, but to have heard her rage on about her lost jewels whilst these little children went hungry angered me to no end. They ran to me expectantly, and I opened a special bag for them where this time alongside the toys I had brought, I had also commandeered an assortment of sweet things from the royal kitchens. Some of the cakes were still warm, and I shared them out as they squealed and began to cram the delights into their mouths. "Slowly!" I laughed, ruffling their hair in turn as I began to wipe at their faces, dusting away crumbs and dirt. "Slowly, little ones. I know you are hungry, but it will do you no good to choke on your food,"
They slowed at my insistence, and as their eyes glowed with pure delight at the tastes which danced upon their tongues, I gave them the rest of the treats to share, telling them to share nicely. They chorused in thanks before dashing away to show their friends and parents whilst others came to help me offload. "Where is Sylvie?" Asking one of the women, she pointed to the colonnade by the waterside and I immediately saw her speaking with a figure who I could not see other than a little of their dark clothing.
Turning away, I hefted a sack of flour down from the cart as the cadets who had volunteered to help passed the supplies down. From my own estate there was a large barrel of apples, which required several men to roll down and lift before they pried open the lid to see what lay inside. "That is quite the feast you've prepared for us," Sylvie's voice rang out and I looked to her, breathing deeply from the weight of the provisions as she also began to help. "We are grateful for this."
"It is the least I can do. Here, I kept this for you." Reaching into my pocket, I brought out a wrapped bundle of treats I had sequestered in secret, opening the handkerchief to reveal an oatcake, several biscuits and a bunch of grapes. "I know you would not take anything for yourself unless I hand it to you directly." Unable to speak, Sylvie gradually accepted the treats into her hand, looking at them with a misty expression as her mouth naturally curled upwards. "Well? Try one! Otherwise, I think Clairmont might just snatch it away from you, he looks rather ravenous." From the wagon, Clairmont beamed at my teasing and Sylvie chuckled before selecting the oatcake.
She savoured the experience as she bit into it, the soft texture melting into her mouth with sweetness and warmth. The rest swiftly followed. "Forget your brother, I could quite easily kiss you at this moment," Sylvie declared and I laughed at the sentiment as she cleaned her mouth with the back of her sleeve. At that moment I looked over her shoulder, noticing something lingering by the columns near the water and immediately recognised Lucien Grimaud. He was watching us, and my stomach tightened slightly at the realisation, though whether it was a good or a bad response, I was uncertain.
"That man you were speaking with," lowering my voice so that Sylvie had to step a little closer, I flicked my gaze over her shoulder so that she knew who I was referring to before continuing. "What did he want of you?"
"He came to the meeting," she explained after looking to see him where he did not move, even after realising that we had noticed him. "He offered me money."
"For what?" Arching a brow in surprise, I glanced to him once more. This man was rather charitable, it seemed. First the veterans' funeral, and now donating to Sylvie's cause.
"He didn't say, just that it was for me to use as I wanted. I refused it." Glancing behind her, I noticed her brow crease. "Strange man, that."
"Hm…" humming in thought, I decided not to dwell on the matter overmuch. Touching Sylvie's arm, I gave her a smile before helping to unload the last of the wagons. All the while I was aware of Grimaud lingering in my periphery, always watching but never approaching. His actions made me curious as to what his true intentions were, as I was not yet convinced they were wholly pure, but I still sensed no cause for alarm. I did not think he possessed any ill intent towards me, so I remained at ease even as I sent the wagon back with the cadets, thanking them for their help and passing little treats of their own to enjoy for their hard work. Such bribery was usually an effective method.
I went about the city, conducting a few errands and making enquiries, all the while knowing that Grimaud still followed. I stopped seeing him, but I could sense he was still there. Deciding to see just how far he would go to follow, I turned my horse about and found an open road before veering towards the nearest forest and hunting grounds. The moment I was free of the city and its people, of the clustered streets and endless noise, I leaned over my horse's neck and pressed him into a full gallop.
The creature was restless, practically dancing underneath me so when I gave him full rein, he gladly leaped into a breathless bolt. Masterfully handling him with a mere flick of the reins or tap of my heel, the horse carried me through the forest upon familiar paths, allowing me to break free of the demands of my duty for just a short while. I breathed fresh air, letting it fill my entire body before I found myself tucking the reins into my leg to hold the horse steady, tilted my head back towards the dappled light and spread my arms.
It felt as if I were flying, like my arms would sprout feathers and I would take flight into the sky. I left all of my worries and woes behind, outrunning them completely as we charged blindly ahead, not caring where we were going for we had no fixed destination. The ultimate freedom. All the while, I was aware of Grimaud still following. Snapping back to alertness, I picked up the reins and glanced over my shoulder, seeing a shadow moving through the trees behind me so with a click of my tongue, I moved the horse to veer off the path and into the thicket.
A lesser rider would have lost their seat, but I remained confident as I moved the horse through the trees, adjusting its pace and directing it with clear signals to take us away from the road and out of sight, circling around until finally we stopped. I listened, glorifying in the momentary silence until the distinctive hum of hooves churned against the ground. Hidden behind a broad trunked tree, Grimaud brought his horse to a halt then searched about, recognising that I had disappeared. Softly tapping my heels, my horse moved forwards, allowing me to appear directly behind Grimaud. "Are you perhaps looking for me, monsieur?" I must have startled him for his horse threw up its head and pranced to the side. He kept his balance and quickly brought the Andalusian around to face me, blinking before amusement crept into his features.
"You are an impressive rider, comtesse."
"Better than most women, to be sure, but I would say no better than the average man," parrying him rather effortlessly, I fell into an ease as I brought my horse a little closer. "You have been watching and following for some time. Do you perhaps some business you wish to discuss with me?" His mouth cracked upwards in a half smile.
"Only a desire for your company, if you would permit it."
"Well…" maintaining a light and airy tone, I started my horse forwards, walking past Grimaud as he turned his horse to keep his gaze turned towards me. "Any half decent lady really should have an escort with her when she is outside. Please, join me." Seeing this as an opportunity to understand this man better and why he was suddenly appearing in places where he would not be expected, I listened as his horse trotted to cover the distance between us before slowing to walk beside me. "I saw you at the refugee camp today. You went to the gathering?"
"I'd heard rumours about such meetings taking place and thought I would have a look. The woman who leads, she has a…commanding presence." Thinking of Sylvie, I deemed it a rather apt description of her character. "Have you listened to her words?"
"I have, and I have read their pamphlets and listened to their thoughts." After a moment, I realised that Grimaud was still looking at me, expecting a further answer. "It is understandable that the commonfolk are growing restless. They are displaced and hungry, living in cramped spaces with practically nothing to their name, yet they look over a wall and they see the noble populace living in splendour. It is quite unfair."
"So you sympathise with their cause?" He pressed, and I began to wonder how I was going to discover more about him if I were the one answering all the questions.
"I know what it is to be hungry. To have nothing. I have not always been a noble lady of high standing," allowing myself to reveal a little of my past, I hoped that it might entice Grimaud to do the same. "I sympathise with their pain, that much I can say, at least." Before he could ask further, I lifted my chin towards him in gesture. "What of you? I must confess, I cannot quite determine who you are. My best guess would be a merchant, as you seem familiar with people of every rank. What are your views on the matter?"
"Men will always exist who are never satisfied. It's our nature to always want more than what we have. More food. More wealth. It'll never be enough for anyone." Underlying his words, I registered the sharp bitterness in his tone. It was a tone that also knew what it meant to go hungry and be poor. "It's hard enough fighting for yourself. Fighting for strangers in the hope of a better world will only leave you in ruin."
"Then you are a self-made man," I determined, reading between the lines of what he allowed himself to say. It was clear that he was remaining guarded, but he quickly began to realise that he would not succeed in hiding everything from me. I smiled serenely. "And one who favours practicality and logic. I respect you for it, as well as your candidness."
"You honour me," inclining his head in politeness, I returned the gesture before looking ahead. There was a straight, flat road ahead now, so I tightened the reins.
"Let us see how fast your fine horse is, sir," challenging him with a playful laugh, I urged my horse forwards and once more he sprang into an immediate gallop. Grimaud barked after me, a sharp laugh before accepting my challenge, urging his own horse to race after mine. We flew over the ground, blurs of movement until we allowed the horses to simply run, giving them their heads until we happened upon a place where we could take rest, a large fallen tree providing a place to sit and tether the horses. "A gallop always seems to rejuvenate the soul. I really must do this more often."
"You truly are unlike any lady I've ever met, comtesse." Grimaud spoke flatly as he sat himself down upon the tree then lay himself against it, stretching his limbs to relax as I regarded him for a moment then propped myself below, taking a twisted branch for my own seat.
"Madeleine, please. No need to be so formal." I heard and sensed rather than saw his smile, Grimaud repeating my name in a quiet murmur. "Where are you from, monsieur? I cannot quite place your speech."
"Nowhere of consequence, I was raised on the road for a large part of my childhood." Humming thoughtfully, I wondered the circumstances that would lead to such an early existence. Travellers? Gypsies? Refugees? There were many reasons why a family might travel much on the road. They could easily be running from war as much as they might run from the plague. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I am curious about you, monsieur." Speaking plainly, I picked a flower which grew in a patch at my feet, a daisy, and began to pluck at its petals, thinking of a nursery rhyme in my head whilst doing so. "But if my questions are uncomfortable for you, then I shall stop."
"No need, there's simply nothing much to tell." All the same, I heard Grimaud shift himself and slide down the tree, collecting his fall with a soft thud of his boots against the ground and a rustle of his cloak before he moved towards me. "But I thank you for your kindness. It is rare I meet someone of noble birth and they are…cordial, towards me."
"Why so? Are you somehow undeserving of simple human decency?" At this his expression darkened, and I recognised a part of Grimaud that he was attempting to conceal from me. Anger. Rage. Discontent. Something which collected together and made him into a dangerous man. One that I should be wary of. One that I should be guarded against, and yet still I found it did not frighten me.
"I have been met with very little human decency in my life," speaking darkly, I tilted my head slightly to regard him, meeting the unfathomable pain and darkness he possessed without flinching. Veering backwards, Grimaud continued to harbour that dark expression with thundering intensity. "I am baseborn, most of your kind would not even acknowledge my presence even if I stood under their very noses." Although I understood his contempt, I was unshocked by the truth of his heritage, for to me it did not seem reason enough to be repelled by him. He looked at me sharply. "Does this change your opinion of me, comtesse?"
"Madeleine," I corrected him, "and no, it does not. Why should it? We cannot choose the circumstances of our birth, whether they are high or low. You should not be judged for your position in the world just as readily those born to affluence and distinction should not boast of their good fortune to simply be born to the right parents. What? Does the fact I was born into the family of a Comte mean that I am somehow better than you?" Wrinkling my nose in distaste, I scoffed at the notion. "Such ignorance always irks me to no end. There are numerous fools at court who are a great deal less intelligent than a goat. If rank was judged upon virtues and character, then a great number of them would lose their positions." Silently staring at me, I looked at Grimaud to find him unexpectedly surprised. Clearly he had not expected me to react in such a blasé manner to his background, or disparage my own kind for their stupidity. I rose to my feet, looking with concern. "Monsieur? Grimaud? Have I angered you?"
"No," speaking softly, almost kindly, moving closer as his bejewelled hand lifted towards mine. "I am simply…fascinated by you, my lady." His fingers graced against mine and I did not pull them away, allowing him to touch at my hand as he steadily drew closer. "I knew you were different the moment I laid eyes upon you."
"One might consider that an insult, or a suggestion of queerness," staying as calm as possible, my light jest triggered a brief quirk of his mouth, his gaze wandering freely across my face as I steadily grew rosy with a blush, tension gathering in my core as I felt the brush of his other hand against my back, suggestively touching at the laces of my bodice. I looked into his eyes, noticing that they were a soft and subtle shade, a pleasant hue, but almost instantly I compared them to that of Porthos. His eyes were enchantingly dark, like ink in the night or rich mahogany in the sun. My chest clenched suddenly, before all I could think about was Porthos.
"You are not afraid of me," I heard Grimaud murmur, tilting his face over mine as I blinked dazedly, scarcely drawing breath.
"Should I be?" He chuckled, and I felt him brush back my hair in a tender gesture.
"Most people are." For a moment I forced myself to look at Grimaud and consider why I did not feel afraid. Rightfully wary and cautious, though perhaps not in this moment, but not afraid. A pang flashed through my mind and suddenly his eyes were pale and harrowing, maddened with crazed desire and glaring at me through a glamour of agony and terror. I gasped softly.
"I have looked into the eyes of a man so soulless and devoid of sanity and known him to be more monster than man. He had no conscience. No reason. A beast without morality or faith, a desperate creature who took joy in inflicting pain just so that others would suffer as he suffered." Thinking of Rochefort, an unwanted shudder rippled through me and I pressed my eyes closed to banish the image of him, praying to forget him though I knew it was impossible. After a moment, I looked to Grimaud again, and into his own, gentler eyes. "That is the only man who has ever terrified me, and you are not him." With a glance, Grimaud looked to my shoulder.
I allowed him to shift down the sleeve to expose a little of one of my scars, a twisted knot from burning hot iron, now forever imprinted into my skin. The menacing image returned to Grimaud's features, thumb brushing over the scar as I remained silent. "I would have killed him for this, were he still breathing." Oddly touched that he felt so strongly, it eased a little of the tension I had collected. It did not surprise me that Grimaud had heard of what happened to me, it was still widely discussed in court to this day, though never in my presence, how Rochefort had tortured me to give a confession to incriminate the queen.
Taking me into his arms, Grimaud pressed his mouth against mine with a rush of passion I had not expected but did not reject. Here was a man little more than a stranger who thought me desirable enough to want to touch, one who was able to look at me freely for he was not haunted by the image of my broken and bruised features and body. It was a fierce, sinful pleasure, his wanton tongue delving into a rapid exploration of my mouth as his hands grasped at my form wherever he could place them. It should have been wonderful. Perfect, even. Yet, even as he kissed me with a clear desire and want, I could only think that this was not Porthos. It dulled the satisfaction, quietened the pulse of pleasure until it was little more than an ember which failed to burst into flame. I did not push Grimaud away until his hands delved a little too liberally, and I snatched at his wrists with a gasp. He stopped, drawing back to look at me as I blinked in a daze, the breath quite knocked out of me.
Without moving away I held onto his wrists, gently removing them from my womanly area and placed them at my waist instead, holding them there as my thumbs graced over his hands. "I am not used to this," I offered weakly, unable to think of a stronger excuse to explain my sudden reluctance. "Forgive me, I had not expected…I did not realise that you…I feel quite silly now." My floundering seemed to endear myself to Grimaud as he softened and even laughed quietly, relaxing himself and even brushed against at my hair.
"It is I who should apologise. I should not take such liberties with a lady."
"Oh, the lady does not protest, I assure you. I believe you are the first man to ever show any semblance of attraction openly towards me. If indeed, this is what…this," I made a gesture between us, "is. I know I am not the first choice in the jewellery box for most men."
"Then it is fortunate that I know a real jewel when I see one." Unable to help myself, I flushed heavily at this, charmed by such words, but I could not bring myself to like Grimaud any more for them. My heart fluttered, but not because of his kiss, but because it remembered Porthos and his momentary show of passion. "The light is fading; it would be best for you to return to the city. Dangerous things lurk in the night." Looking up, I realised that he was right. Where had the hours flown? I could hardly believe it.
"Yes, yes you are right. Come, shall we race back?" Eager to leave but not wanting to give offence or raise Grimaud's suspicions, I smiled rather shakingly. "I am not overfond of the dark." Satisfied that I was not rushing to escape him, Grimaud rode back to the city with me before parted ways, he disappearing into the shadows as if he were a welcome friend amongst them. I, on the other hand, had but one place in mind to go. I spurred my horse onwards, aiming for the garrison with only one intent in my mind. To find Porthos and confront him. Once and for all.