qualities and qualifications were discussed at length; Ffoulkes brought up four names. They talked about it late into the night and it was decided that all would make good candidates, providing that they could take direction without question and never be informed of the Pimpernel’s true identity.
“All right, then,” Finn said, when they had finished for the night, “I suggest that the two of you begin approaching those whom we’ve agreed upon discreetly and sound them out as to their feelings on this matter. Be very circumspect initially and if you have any doubt as to the degree of their commitment, let the matter go no further. Are we agreed?”
“Agreed, “ said Ffoulkes.
“Agreed,” said Dewhurst.
“Good,” said Finn. “In that case, we shall meet again at Richmond. Confer with de Chalis once again and make certain that he knows what to do. We’ve made a good beginning, gentlemen. Now let’s start gathering momentum.”
Andre felt sorry for Marguerite Blakeney. She couldn’t help it. Since Lady Blakeney had arrived at Richmond, Andre had been spending a great deal of time with her, both to help keep a distance between her and Finn and to keep track of her so that she would not inadvertently cause any element of the adjustment to go awry.
Although she knew that Marguerite St. Just had been instrumental in sending the Marquis de St. Cyr and all his family to the guillotine, it was difficult to believe that Lady Marguerite Blakeney could have been involved in such a thing.
Andre wanted very much to question her about it, but she could not bring herself to do so. For one thing, as a servant, it was not her place. For another, it was not a topic of conversation that could be easily brought up. She had no idea how Lady Blakeney would react if she asked her about St. Cyr and she didn’t want to risk doing anything that would interfere with Finn’s work in the slightest. She had to keep reminding herself that she was a soldier and that she could not allow her personal feelings to enter into the situation. There was far more at stake than the welfare of one woman.
However, on the other hand, she wished that there was something she could do to ease Lady Blakeney’s burden. She her self was far from being unblooded. Andre had killed many men. Sometimes, the cause had been just, but other times, it had not been. Marguerite Blakeney had the blood of a family of French aristocrats upon her hands. When compared to the amount of lives that Andre had taken, it was a small thing, indeed. Andre could not bring herself to feel guilt or to bear blame for anything that she had done, although she had a few regrets. Given that, it was difficult to take the attitude that Marguerite Blakeney deserved no pity for having sent St. Cyr to the block. She did not know the circumstances attending the St. Cyr affair. Perhaps there was a reason, some explanation for why Marguerite had done what she had done. Certainly, it was hard to believe that she could have acted coldly in the matter, without remorse, having condemned an entire family simply because her society had determined that aristocrats were enemies of France. After all, Marguerite St. Just had married an aristocrat, albeit an English one, and now possessed a title herself.
As the wife of a baronet, Marguerite Blakeney was more than entitled to act the part, to treat people of a lesser social class as inferiors, to act as though the servants were nothing but possessions or menial employees, part of the woodwork. But Marguerite was kind and considerate to all the members of the household. Within days after her arrival at the Blakeney estate, she had won the love and unswerving loyalty of all the staff, who went out of their way to see to her comfort and to make her feel welcome. The stablemaster saw to it that she had the gentlest horse and he was thrilled beyond all measure when Marguerite, though vastly inexperienced in such things, came to assist him when one of
“All right, then,” Finn said, when they had finished for the night, “I suggest that the two of you begin approaching those whom we’ve agreed upon discreetly and sound them out as to their feelings on this matter. Be very circumspect initially and if you have any doubt as to the degree of their commitment, let the matter go no further. Are we agreed?”
“Agreed, “ said Ffoulkes.
“Agreed,” said Dewhurst.
“Good,” said Finn. “In that case, we shall meet again at Richmond. Confer with de Chalis once again and make certain that he knows what to do. We’ve made a good beginning, gentlemen. Now let’s start gathering momentum.”
Andre felt sorry for Marguerite Blakeney. She couldn’t help it. Since Lady Blakeney had arrived at Richmond, Andre had been spending a great deal of time with her, both to help keep a distance between her and Finn and to keep track of her so that she would not inadvertently cause any element of the adjustment to go awry.
Although she knew that Marguerite St. Just had been instrumental in sending the Marquis de St. Cyr and all his family to the guillotine, it was difficult to believe that Lady Marguerite Blakeney could have been involved in such a thing.
Andre wanted very much to question her about it, but she could not bring herself to do so. For one thing, as a servant, it was not her place. For another, it was not a topic of conversation that could be easily brought up. She had no idea how Lady Blakeney would react if she asked her about St. Cyr and she didn’t want to risk doing anything that would interfere with Finn’s work in the slightest. She had to keep reminding herself that she was a soldier and that she could not allow her personal feelings to enter into the situation. There was far more at stake than the welfare of one woman.
However, on the other hand, she wished that there was something she could do to ease Lady Blakeney’s burden. She her self was far from being unblooded. Andre had killed many men. Sometimes, the cause had been just, but other times, it had not been. Marguerite Blakeney had the blood of a family of French aristocrats upon her hands. When compared to the amount of lives that Andre had taken, it was a small thing, indeed. Andre could not bring herself to feel guilt or to bear blame for anything that she had done, although she had a few regrets. Given that, it was difficult to take the attitude that Marguerite Blakeney deserved no pity for having sent St. Cyr to the block. She did not know the circumstances attending the St. Cyr affair. Perhaps there was a reason, some explanation for why Marguerite had done what she had done. Certainly, it was hard to believe that she could have acted coldly in the matter, without remorse, having condemned an entire family simply because her society had determined that aristocrats were enemies of France. After all, Marguerite St. Just had married an aristocrat, albeit an English one, and now possessed a title herself.
As the wife of a baronet, Marguerite Blakeney was more than entitled to act the part, to treat people of a lesser social class as inferiors, to act as though the servants were nothing but possessions or menial employees, part of the woodwork. But Marguerite was kind and considerate to all the members of the household. Within days after her arrival at the Blakeney estate, she had won the love and unswerving loyalty of all the staff, who went out of their way to see to her comfort and to make her feel welcome. The stablemaster saw to it that she had the gentlest horse and he was thrilled beyond all measure when Marguerite, though vastly inexperienced in such things, came to assist him when one of
Similar Books
