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Marceau takes readers on an incredible journey into the unexpected power of ancient magic.
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Paris poised on the eve of revolution.
A wealthy father and his brilliant estranged son.
When they recreate ancient rituals going back centuries, the repercussions are powerful beyond their wildest imaginings.
The magic begins in this Free Kindle
Nation Shorts excerpt from
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by Thelma Benison
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enablled
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Here's the set-up:
Maurice Marceau (a bisexual financier) finds out from his youthful heart's desire, Margauritte, that he has an illegitimate 15-year-old son named Maximilien.
Margauritte does not ask Maurice for money—all she asks is that Maurice acknowledge Maximilien (Max) as his son. Maurice, who is well-known for his relationship with his long-time male friend and lover, is also in an “in-name-only” marriage and has one legitimate son. Curious about the son he never met, Maurice makes some inquiries and discovers that Maxmillien is gifted in astronomy, mathematics, and many languages.
As a back channel financier to several heads of state and sovereigns throughout Europe and as member to an Order of Financiers, Maurice has sponsored several expeditions to Egypt and Babylonia. When he asks Maxmillien to read a ancient parchment written in ancient Hebrew, his son reads a section of the parchment perfectly.
Maurice persuades Max to look further into the manuscript and a brass vessel found with it, convinced that its powers hold significance for the Marceau family. Max’ research uncovers an ancient ritual written by Solomon the King, which he prepares to try for himself with the help of his three closest friends.
The results are powerful beyond their wildest expectations with repercussions in both the the angelic and daemonic realms. As France is poised on the eve of revolution, what will these powers mean?
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an excerpt from
Marceau
by Thelma Benison
Copyright © 2012 by Thelma Benison and published here with her permission
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Chapter One
June 1788
Paris
The magnificent and grandiose sight of a six-horse carriage drew the attention of the guardian spirits presiding over the southern gates to the city of Paris. The carriage belonged to a man who bore an ancient heritage and whose familial means of wealth endured for over five centuries. He served as a backchannel financier to several sovereigns and heads of state. He seldom ventured outside the realm of his business affairs and rarely made himself available in person unless the situation required it. A world renowned collector of ancient manuscripts and museum pieces and a most eccentric interest in alchemy, the occult, as well as the exotic.
The clouds were threatening more rain and Maurice pulled aside the curtain with his gloved hand to watch a few Parisians on the streets. There were women preparing their wares for selling on every street corner. Meat market stalls with fresh cuts of meat and flies hovering everywhere. Accordion musicians, food carts, poets, and card swindlers setting up their tables. The streets were filthy with rats and debris, cattle and oxen, beggars, and mud was inches thick on every boot and hem. People lived by the day here. Maurice closed the curtain and began to ponder on the amount he was to pay Chenier’s acting troupe when his mind began to recall the redhead he saw during a rehearsal visit. It was precisely that moment when he realized she reminded him of a red-head in his younger years. An old memory of a young girl who was his first true love and should have married. A relationship he ended abruptly and quite brutally to honor a marriage contract to a woman he was forced to marry.
The carriage came to a stop at the carriage entrance to the Hotel de Salm. Maurice quickly put away his thoughts and the contract into his leather pouch. A heavy gust of wind blew as Alber, his carriage driver, held on to his three-cornered hat as he held open the door to the carriage.
The doorman to the Hotel Salm bowed as he held the door for Messeur Maurice. Armond, the hotel’s concierge greeted him with a large embrace as Maurice was a favorite and well known to all the staff at the hotel for many years.
“Bonjour, Messeur Maurice”, said Armond.
“You are alone?” as he looked about.
“Oui”, said Maurice.
“Your favorite suite is ready, Messeur. I will have your travel bags sent up”, said Alphonse.
“I know the way”, said Maurice.
Maurice ran up the three flights of stairs and down the entire length of the hallway until he reached his suite. It was the largest suite of rooms facing both corners to the rue de Bourbon. These were his favorite rooms because of the heavy persian candle lamps and carpets, incense burners, and large mohagony bed with an adjoining private bain, dining and sitting rooms to receive guests. The room was seldom let to anyone else. The hotel owner owned a vineyard in Burgundy and he always made certain that Maurice was served the finest wine and champagne during his stays. The staff were discreet as they knew Maurice owned a chateaux in Paris and his stays at the hotel were always due to personal business and entertaining.
There was a soft knock at the door that Maurice purposely left ajar.
“Oui”, answered Maurice with his back turned.
“Will you be dining tonight, Messeur? Shall I find a companion for you?”, asked Armond.
“Not tonight, Armond. I have an invitation. I expect to return very late”, said Maurice as took his signatory seal from his coat pocket and stashed it inside the leather pouch he always carried.
“Shall I order your bath?”, asked Armond.
“Oui, s’il vous plait”, said Maurice.
“… I will return shortly, messeur”, said Armond.
The sound of heavy rain began to pelt through the windows as Maurice walked into the bedroom and began to take off his tall boots, cloak, coat, silk stockings, neck cloth, and his breeches, shedding the man the public knew until his body remained bare. There were two very large guilded mirrors on either side of the grand mahogany bed and he took a hard look at his body. His shoulders, chest, arms, and thighs remained muscular for his 30 years in age. His groin was naturally large and continued to make a bulge underneath his breeches. He was satisfied with his physique.
It was here in these rooms that he felt alive and could be himself. He could breathe. The boundaries and restrictions set upon him did not exist; and only those he chose closest to him truly knew the man he was.
A knock on the door was heard. A valet strode in carrying towels, sponges and toilettes along with an entourage of two strong men who carried two large kettles on a wooden cart filled with warm water began to fill the large bain.
“That is all”, ordered Guillame as he waved away the men with his bright red finger nails.
Guillaume prepared the room by burning Maurice’s favorite incense and filled the antique Persian hookah with a solution of dried opiates and herbs from the Orient. He rekindled the fireplace and closed the heavy curtains tightly. The booming sound of thunder and heavy rain pelting against the windows removed all indications of a burgeoning city outside. Guillame was the most affectionate and loyal friend, confidante, and long-time theatre actor who was often found in various disguises. He made no apologies for his displays be they in public or otherwise. He often wore heavy makeup and rouge on his lips and wore his long hair in a tall chiffon. His shirt was billowy and his round ruffled neckline showed an exposed round cleavage. He sewed his own clothes and designed them himself.
Guillame rolled up his ruffled sleeve up to his arm so that he could feel the heat of the water with his elbow and began to pour two spoonfuls of a herb tea into the bain and began to soak the sponges.
Maurice walked over to the bain and placed himself inside. Guillame inhaled and handed the lit hookah to Maurice and began his massage of Maurice’s head and the back of his neck with the sponge.
“Where have you been, cherie. We all have missed you”, whispered Guillame as he slowly let out his breath.
“I have just arrived early this morning and had to attend to business straight way before my arrival”, as Maurice slowly inhaled.
Maurice leaned forward as Guillame continued his massage down his back. Maurice began to relax. The week long trip in the carriage from his farm in the upper Pyrenees had certainly stiffened his shoulders and neck muscles. Guillame poured some herb solution on Maurice’s head and began to wash his hair and placed a soft towel on the rim so that Maurice could lean back and continue with his massage. The water was soapy and had a musky smell of the patchouli herb.
“I heard you bought the Salón Orangerie”, said Guillame softly not certain if Maurice was in the mood to talk.
“Oui. I met with all the tax collectors and police commissionaires and paid them in full one year in advance”, said Maurice focused on Guillame’s long red finger nails against his skin.
“I have a friend who is an actor in Chenier’s troupe”, said Guillame knowing full well Maurice was going to ask how he knew.
“I had forgotten how news travels fast here. I am deciding what to pay them”, smiled Maurice.
“Male or female?”, asked Maurice as he inhaled.
“Male, of course”, said Guillame.
“Ah, Guillame”, said Maurice as he sighed reveling in the work of Guillaume’s hands.
“Chenier?”, asked Maurice.
“Non”, said Guillame after a long pause.
“Tell me. What did he have to say”, asked Maurice as gulped in the heavy air.
“He said this very handsome and well dressed gentleman came in to visit Chenier and the entire troupe. Every man in the place was jealous of your looks and the way you carried yourself. Some of them even looked out the windows and saw your grand carriage after you left. My friend has no idea I know you intimately”, said Guillame as he kneaded Maurice’s thighs.
“Pray keep it that way, Guillame”, whispered Maurice as he leaned back and succumbed to Guillaume’s touch as he exhaled. Maurice felt his presence of mind and body ebb and flow releasing all restraint and relishing in pleasure.
“I expect Chenier to keep my provisions in the contract. I am having my jurist pay him a visit tomorrow”, said Maurice as the first effects of the opiate began to thread its way into his blood stream and began to unlock the tension deep in his veins.
“Tell me what you need and I will make certain your provisions are met”, said Guillame.
“I may be requiring a double unless I can get by brother to attend on my behalf. I am not attending the play opening night this September”, said Maurice as his mind began to sink into a state of relaxation and details were slipping away from his train of thought.
“Are you in danger?”, asked Guillame.
“I have been followed…since Toulouse”, said Maurice.
“Your brother-in-law. I heard word that he knew you were traveling and on your way here”, said Guillame.
“I’ll arrange for the double with one of my actor friends if necessary. I have some of your clothes that he can use”, said Guillame.
“I have other provisions that I need to speak to you at a later time. I will send for you”, said Maurice as he inhaled again deeply and held his breath as the full effects of his habit overtook him. What he had to say was of the upmost confidence and importance. Yet, Maurice knew his pleasures with Guillaume had remained hidden by the staff the many years he stayed there. Their adherence in respecting his personal privacy remained unequal to all the staff at the chateau’s he and his family owned the world over.
Maurice exhaled and surrendered to Guillaume. The rain slowed to a gentle shower with bursts of thunder here and there. Guillaume relit the candle sconce once more and poured warm water and rekindled the fire continuing his massage. Maurice’s consciousness returned after more than an hour. Guillaume saw Maurice’s eyes flicker slowly. The fog in his mind lifted leaving an after effect of complete relaxation in mind, body, and soul.
“I also heard you are to receive an entitlement”, said Guillame breaking their long silence.
Maurice cleared his throat. “Now where did you hear that one?”
“A male friend of mine at court”, said Guillame.
Guillame had a large circle of friends that worked in key areas within the French government, the royal palaces, as butlers to private homes of those in the upper echelons of society. He was Maurice’s largest resource for information and sole confidant in all his affairs.
“I heard that the Duc d’ Laurenc has been in touch with his sis -- your wife. He was heard instructing her to bear another child with you. He wants as much financial support from you and wants you as close to her as possible. Your name arose a few times in question…to your knowing of her…virtues of late. Her trysts have become public. And the Duc, overcome by embarrassment, is diverting the minds of the public on the King with his newspapers and gazettes”, said Guillame as he adjusted his hair comb.
“You have been gone far too long”, said Guillame as he continued massaging Maurice’s other foot.
“The business at my farm is what is keeping me away from Paris”, said Maurice.
“No femme fatale with you this time?”, asked Guillame.
“My, Guillame, you do have eyes and ears everywhere”, said Maurice reminding him of his last encounter that came close to his defacement publicly while at the Roman baths.
“I need to protect you, Maurice. You have been a grand help to me and many of my friends. Because of you we have work and a roof over our heads. I will make certain that no one comes near to destroying your name socially or politically. You know I make my way round enough key people to spare you of this”, said Guillame.
“Shall I arrange for a consort for you tonight? Although I am certain the lady will know what will be required of her since it will be more than just a dinner event”, Guillame winked.
“Non Guillame. I am not interested”, said Maurice.
“Quoi??? asked Guillame as he reached for Maurice’s back to pull him forward so that he could rinse his hair.
“I want a divorce”, said Maurice.
“Mon Dieu! You are divorcing me?”, Guillame shrieked.
“Of course not, Guillame. I want a divorce from my wife!”, said Maurice.
“I have never met your son nor your parents or siblings. And for as long as we have known each other, I believe I am now due”, said Guillame as he dried Maurice’s head with a towel.
“One day you will come to live with me in my grand chauteux in the Midi-Pyrenees”, said Maurice as he laid his neck against the tub again.
“One day…one day…and the one day never comes”, said Guillame as he reached for Maurice’s other foot.
“How could you possibly be bored living here in Paris, Guillame? I need you here. Why with all the theatres and political drama…”, asked Maurice.
“Oui, Maurice. My life is not the same without you here”, said Guillame.
“I have bought a box at the theatre Monsoir …I expect you to use it when I am not in town”, said Maurice.
“You are so good to me, Maurice”, said Guillame as he kissed him.
“I will bring you with me upon my return to my farm. There is no question. Start planning”, said Maurice.
“Are you saying this in jest? Are we permanent?”, asked Guillame.
“Yes. I always miss my massages when I am there. And I work hard on the farm. Although my son, Henri does most of the work”, said Maurice.
“Well, well…. I do get to meet your son after these many many years as your valet to this hotel? I cannot believe it, Maurice”, said Guillame as he hugged Maurice tenderly.
“Yes, and you will find him handsome just like his father. Now, I thought of you when I bought the box at the new theatre. Who is going to enjoy the box seats when both you and I are not here in Paris?”, asked Maurice.
“I believe Armond and his friend would appreciate a time or two at the theatre”, said Guillame.
“Ah, Armond. All the staff to this hotel have been very good to me”, said Maurice.
“Well…this is because we appreciate you. All these years, you have been so generous to me, Armond, the maids, the chefs, the portiers. Everyone loves you, Maurice. You have helped them without their asking you for help. You have saved quite a lot of us from total despair many many times. I cherish our friendship and I am so proud that I know you personally and intimately. Not many people can say that”, said Guillame.
“No, they cannot. I choose my closest and dearest lover and confidant very very carefully”, smiled Maurice as he took Guillame’s wet hand and kissed it.
Guillame smiled. He finished clipping and polishing Maurice’s toe nails and began massaging his hands before polishing his finger nails.
“Shall I call for more warm water?”, asked Guillame.
“The water is warm enough for me”, said Maurice.
Guillame felt the bath water and it was warm enough to pour some bath oils in it.
“I am going to call for some more water as I need to rinse your hair once more”, said Guillame.
“I am gray at the temples”,said Maurice.
“That makes you all the more distinguished”, said Guillame as he pulled down a heavy brocaded rope against the wall. .
“And what of this divorce of your wife? Does she know?”, asked Guillame.
“Non. She has no idea divorce is on my mind. It has been a few years since I saw her last. What more can be said?”, said Maurice.
“How are you to bring about a divorce when it is not possible here in France?”, asked Guillame.
“I plan on forcing the issue at my dinner tonight with those who have secured their election in the next meeting of the general assembly. I am paying handsomely to have divorce become law”, smiled Maurice.
“I must be frank, Maurice. Why divorce when she has given you a son and complete freedom?”, asked Guillame.
“It has been an arranged marriage from the start. She has been honest about her not caring for me…and is happy entertaining her friends, enjoying her lovers and acquaintances. And I have come to accept that. I should also say that at least we have been fortunate to have produced a son who most clearly and most undoubtedly resembles me. There is no denial on that”, smiled Maurice.
“She was wise by bearing you a son. Although I must say, I keep failing to understand as to why she would not want the most handsomest and richest man in all of France? I cannot comprehend that.You are every woman’s prize. Why, any woman would make certain that you were always completely happy – both physically and emotionally”, said Guillaume.
“I am much so very tired of accommodating my parents and society with these obligations on marriage and children. All of this is driving me absolutely mad! I rather live my life simply and spend it with you.”, smiled Maurice.
Guillaume was touched by Maurice’s acknowledgement.
“Non Maurice…these are the times we live in. Someone like you has to marry and have children. It is very much expected by your family and society as a whole. My apologies, you must know that this is an obligation for the very rich who can afford raising a family”, said Guillaume.
Maurice sighed.
“Do you still find her beautiful?”, asked Guillaume as he readjusted his hair.
“Always have. She certainly knows how to please a man if you know what I mean”, said Maurice.
“Truthfully, Maurice, how many women would tolerate your nomadic ways?. You end up marrying another woman and poof! Your freedom is gone”, said Guilllame.
“You sound like you want me to keep her”, said Maurice.
“I most certainly do!”, said Guillame.
“She has been most respectful of me”, said Guillame.
“I truthfully do not understand your motive, Maurice. She’s given you complete freedom to do as you wish – and without argument and she knows how to please you. What more could you expect from her? Why…you have a marriage that is every man’s dream!”, said Guillame.
“She has explicitely stated that she married me for my money. She has become a whore and cares not about our making appearances with me in public. She surely remains uninterested in me to this very day. Now if this has not been obvious to you…”, said Maurice.
“I applaud her courage and her honesty”, said Guillame.
“What does she think of your female paramours”, asked Guillame.
“She cares not in the least. Never has all these years”, said Maurice.
“Well…then again….you never once had a mistress, Maurice. She has not had an adversary”, said Guillame.
“True”, said Maurice.
“You will find that her interest in you will come about upon her knowing you have a mistress”, said Guillame.
“Did you ever come to love her, Maurice?”, asked Guillame.
“I was forced into marrying her. There was a marriage contract”, said Maurice.
“Did you ever come to love her, Maurice?”, asked Guillame pointedly.
Maurice could not find the words to answer. Yet he knew his attraction for her remained at most in a physical sense.
“The one woman I truly loved and considered for marriage was once an orphan. My father was not against the idea of my marrying her, believe it or not. Her name is Margauritte. My father caught sight of her as his carriage passed when she was a four year old child running wild and living off the streets. He said that her face was so striking even while in rags. He stopped the carriage and the beggar women on the street recommended he take her in as she had no family. Her looks were absolutely beautiful as a child and even more so now. My father gave her a name and arranged for her living with a childless couple and paid for her private education in Cambridge, England when she came of age. She has been my father’s garcon to all our Salon’s in Europe. She knows several languages and outshines any Queen in beauty, in knowledge, and in elegance. We lost our innocence with one another when we were younger”, said Maurice.
“Answer my question”, said Guillame.
Maurice again fell silent. Guillame understood this silence to mean yes.
“You were a different man when you loved this other woman, Maurice. I know you better than you know yourself. Mark my words. You are still drawn to Vivienne. You may not know it. Vivienne is the only woman suitable for the man you have become. She understands thoroughly the man you are today”, said Guillame. “You will come to regret marrying any other woman”, said Guillame.
Maurice closed his eyes and made no response.
Guillaume began to sense Maurice’s disdain for this subject and knew instinctively he had already made up his mind.
“Mon Dieu, Maurice. Why complicate your life with this other woman? And what if she bears you another child? You barely tolerated your own son Henri until he came of age”, said Guillame as he walked towards the door and rang a bell again.
A man came in with several kettles of warm water.
“Xavier. I need to rinse”, said Guillame.
Xavier held the warm kettle as Guillame reached into it with a small pitcher to pour over Maurice’s head.
“Merci”, said Guillame.
Xavier left the room..
“I never forgot my first love, Margauritte. We were together as a couple when we were both young when I would visit my family’s Salon in England. I stopped seeing her upon my marrying. After 15 years passed, I took over the Salons from my father a year ago and I am slowly doing my best to rekindle the friendship we once had. It has taken me this long to face her and acknowledge my guilt”, said Maurice.
“Need I remind you again that you were a different man then, Maurice? You need not play out your old curiousities and stir up her emotions. You could bring about ruin in her life that way”, said Guillaume who knew the powerful effects Maurice held with his handsome looks, his money, and his kind heart to those who care for him.
Maurice got up from his bath while Guillame gently toweled him dry then handed him a warm robe that he had placed by the fire. Maurice stepped out.
“Are you going out for dinner tonight?”, asked Guillame as he started to unpack Maurice’s powdered wig and clothes while Maurice sat on the chaise lounge by his bed.
“I have a dinner invitation with the Duc de Roche this evening”, said Maurice.
“I am going to steam this cloak and coat for you. Several days inside a trunk has taken a toll on this fabric. I will do the same for these breeches and the rest of your wardrobe”, said Guillame.
“I am going to have to leave, Maurice. I need to prepare your clothes for tonight’s dinner and I will have to ask the portiers to come and empty the bain”, said Guillame.
“I am asking you to come with me… as my guest”, said Maurice.
“My disguise as a woman bears well in the theatre and falls short in public. This is a political dinner, of this I have no doubt. I care less about politics, Maurice. You know that. Politics are much too…much too stiff for me”, said Guillame waving his red finger nails in the air.
“I will send a portier with tonight’s evening suite for you to wear and the rest of your wardrobe”, said Guillame as he opened the bedroom door and blew a kiss and left.
Maurice smiled and walked over to the sitting room and opened a bottle of champagne. The champagne was warm yet it was both sweet and tart to the taste.
He sat by the large roaring fire to sleep a few more hours before his dinner at 9:00 pm.
Maurice fell into a deep slumber and did not hear a soft knocking by a woman at his door. The floor portier came up to the woman and told her to leave a message with the concierge. The woman was elegantly dressed in heavy brocades of red silk and gloves; she looked regal yet know one could place who she was. She gracefully went down the stairs and walked up to the concierge.
“Bonjour, Madame, how can I be of service”, said Armond.
“Bonjour. I am here to visit Messeur Marceau. There was no response at his door”, said the woman.
“I will leave him a note, Madame. Your name?”, asked Armond.
“Margauritte”, said the woman.
“I will hand him this note at first opportunity, Madame”, said Armond.
“Merci”, said Margauritte as she walked away slowly in a dignified manner.
Several hours passed and Maurice was awakened by a clumsy portier who walked into his sitting room to leave his many day and evening suites of clothing.
“My apologies, Messeur. I am under Guillame’s strict orders to come in and leave your clothes as quietly as possible and empty your bain. I see that I have failed. I have awakened you”, said the young portier..
“No harm”, said Maurice.
“Are these all of my clothes?”, asked Maurice.
“All of them Messeur. Day and evening suites steamed and pressed”, said the portier.
“Merci”, said Maurice as he got up to pay him.
“Not necessary, Messeur Marceau. Merci”, said the portier as he bowed with a smile as he walked towards the bedroom.
Maurice noticed a small envelope on the small table by the door. He walked over and looked it over before opeining it.
Messeur Maurice,
Madame Margauritte came by to see you.
Armond
*** His memories of guilt swept his mind as he thought of his red head, Margauritte, during their younger years. He knew that Margauritte was here to discuss business and the hiring of the new employe’s at the Salón Orangerie that he newly owned. This was his first opportunity to talk to her personally and privately after so many years.
Maurice also knew Margauritte would certainly capture the attention of all the men and women in attendance at tonight’s dinner that he planned on attending alone. He took some paper from the hotel’s writing desk and hastily scribbled down a note and sealed it with wax. He walked to the door and rang the bell.
“Oui, Messeur Maurice”, said the hall portier.
“I need for you to send this message to Madame de la Sál at No. 5 Rue de Grenelle. Please wait for a return reply. Please send this message to the de Roche home”, said Maurice as he handed the portier a tip along with the two notes.
“Oui, Messeur” said the hall portier and he quickly left.
Margauritte has always been a very kind woman. She had no social history of any kind here in Paris as no one would know her. He felt no harm in inviting her to tonight’s dinner for he rarely showed himself in public. The upper echelons of women would certainly not know her and think her an English royal at least in speech and in manner. He walked towards the closet and selected a freshly pressed evening suite and walked to his dressing room to begin his dress. The porter continued to empty his bain in the next room.
The hall portier knocked on the door. Maurice was dressing in the bedroom too far from the entrance hall to hear and the portier emptying the bain was not within earshot. The hall portier made his way in to change the logs on the fire. He then took out a small note from his coat pocket and placed it on the small entrance table and lit the wall sconces to the main entrance hall, sitting room, and the hallway leading into the bedroom and left a tray with petit entreés for Maurice to nibble on. He then replaced the opened champagne bottle with a new one and left. The portier emptying the bain finished and made his way out.
Maurice walked in a half-hour later to find his wall sconces lit and a note by the entrance table. He picked up the note and carefully examined it before opening it.
*** Maurice,
Will be ready by half past 6.
Margauritte
*** Maurice was delighted to find that Margauritte was available for tonight’s dinner. His bringing a beautiful woman to an evening full of heated political debates among revolutionary bourgeoisie would cool the atmosphere a bit. He sat on his chaise lounge by the fire and opened the fresh bottle of champagne and arranged the flowers by the two glasses. He arranged for Alber to pick up Margauritte by half past six and noticed she would be here in a few minutes. No longer was he thinking this when he heard a knock on the door. He opened the door to find Margauritte in a peacock blue silk dress and gloves with a plume to accentuate her matching hat.
“Mon Dieu!”, said Maurice. “You look absolutely breathtaking”, said Maurice.
“Merci”, said Margauritte as she held her hand to him.
Maurice closed the door and embraced her.
Margauritte was surprised by his sudden display of affection. Her assessment of his visits to the Salon in England were strictly business this past year. She hoped with all her heart that his intentions would have changed and become more personal. Yet, after a year’s time, she remained uncertain and returned his embrace half-heartedly.
Maurice took no notice.
“How was your travel”, asked Maurice.
“There was some rain but good weather for the most part”, said Margauritte. She began to feel awkward and wondered why he had not asked her to come in and sit down. They remained standing by the door. Maurice’s gaze never left hers. He began to recall their last evening together and began to feel terribly for the pain he inflicted on her. She was so beautiful and did not deserve his leaving her. Yet, feelings of endearment were there for her each time he thought of her throughout the years. He knew he could do no more than offer his friendship to her; for an intimate relationship was out of the question on his part. He understood immediately Guillaume’s warning him how different a man he had become.
“Why have you been gone from the salon for so long?”, asked Margauritte.
Maurice sighed. He tried to recover from the guilt he was feeling inside.
“I have been very busy these past few months testing the soil round my farm with the hopes that it can give birth to the grape. I am sorry to say that I have inspected every metre and I have been sorely disappointed”, said Maurice as he led Margauritte by the arm to sit on the chaise lounge by the fire.
“What is this with the grape?”, asked Margauritte as she sat down and took off her hat.
“Henri and I have a suspicion that our land was once owned by the monks at La Petit-Chapelle monastery. They were famous world over for their wine and champagnes”, said Maurice.
“Cheri. Why are you venturing into another business?”, said Margauritte.
“Henri and his future”, said Maurice.
“Henri is your son?”, asked Margauritte as she bit her lip.
Maurice nodded.
“Maurice… You have a good 30 years or so before you can start planning your wake”, said Margauritte as she started taking off her silk gloves.
“I am saying all of this to you now as no one knows what tomorrow will bring. As it is, there are rumours of a revolution”, said Maurice.
“Indeed”, said Margauritte.
“They plan to remove your King’s absolute right to reign”, said Margauritte.
“And if this King owes you a lot of money…which I hear he does, then you must do all that you can to recover it “, said Margauritte.
“Margauritte. I take it you have just arrived from England. How did you hear word of this?”, asked Maurice.
“This is written on the gazettes and leaflets. They were handed out on the street near the entrance to this hotel on my way here”, said Margauritte.
“They know I am here”, sighed Maurice as he leaned his head back against the chaise lounge.
“The King knows he cannot repay me in currency, so he has given me a very large parcel of land in Nouvelle Orleans”, said Maurice.
“Nouvelle Orleans?”, asked Margauritte.
“I hear it is nothing more than a swamp, Maurice”, said Margauritte.
“I have sent my juriste and a few engineers to take a closer look at the land. The city has a rather large port with Haitain slaves. A very sore point with me and my family -- my brother most especially. He will be marrying a woman from Haiti. They are invited as my guests to my entitlement”, said Maurice.
“Entitlement?”, asked Margauritte.
“I believe I am to be honored by Louis XVI. There is some talk about my receiving a title of merit of some kind”, said Maurice.
“Oh, Maurice”, said Margauritte. Her feelings for him were stirring more deeply while in his presence and she wanted so much to touch him and tell him she still loved him.
“I want you to come with me that evening”, said Maurice as he flinched. He had forgotten he was bringing his wife.
“Oh, Maurice”, said Margauritte as she touched his face. He took her hand and held it and looked deeply into her dark green eyes for quite a while without saying a word to her.
“Maurice, I have truly loved you all these many many years”, whispered Margauritte. She took a chance in saying how she felt. She so wanted to steer him back towards her and renew their relationship.
“I so apologize for leaving you abruptly. I apologize for agreeing to that empty marriage. We both regretted early on. It has been a most horrible error on my part. Had it not been for our son, Henri…”, said Maurice. His heart began to ache for he knew instinctively what she wanted and he could not return to the man Margauritte once knew. His only hope was her accepting him for the man he now was. He knew that in time, she would become disappointed in him and thought it best to keep her as a dear friend. He did not want to hurt her again.
“What is done is done”, said Margauritte.
“I can only imagine what my life would have been like married to you”, said Maurice as kissed her on the cheek. He also knew he was not worthy of becoming a true husband. Maurice released his hold of her and reached for the champagne and the petit entrees by the fire for them to nibble on before leaving. They both were ravenous.
Margauritte sensing Maurice’s subdued reaction towards her knew she had to release all hope for the intimacy they used to share. Gone was his intimate touch, his emotions, and his overall sense of belonging to her. She knew it was far wiser to share a friendship that she sensed he wanted and began to realize that she was far closer to him now than she had ever been as a garcon to his family’s ale houses these past fifteen years. She knew she had to tame her hopes and desires and thought it best to begin with a renewed friendship for she knew she could never live without him again. She would continue to hold the love she held for him in secret. And she knew this would prove difficult within herself. She knew she had to do this for Max’s sake.
“Margauritte. What plans have you these following few days?”, asked Maurice.
“Plans?? Maurice we have to decide on the clientele for your new Salón, cherie, and we need to discuss the new taxes that have been imposed. And we do need to make a trip to Romania and Italy and look in on your Salons there. I…we.. might as well since…Italy is practically next door”, said Margauritte. She was becoming most uncomfortable and nervous as she always made her business trips alone to the many ale houses the Marceau family owned. She knew it was too soon for her to ask for his company.
“I already have paid all the taxes due in full and in advance an entire year”, said Maurice.
“My jurist Alphonse, Leon and I have just returned from Nouvelle Orleans, and all these places and paid everything that has been due”, said Maurice. He was perplexed by her sudden need to depart for Italy after their forthcoming discussions and arrangements for the new Salon he had just bought here in Paris. She had not even seen his new Salon Orangerie.
“Yes, Maurice. I do drop in every now and again just to see how business is going”, said Margauritte.
“I realize that Margauritte”, said Maurice. He paused while looking at her. He found her behavior rather odd. “…is this your way of asking for a trip abroad…with me?”, asked Maurice.
“Oui”. Margauritte paused. She knew this was her time to finally tell him.
“May I ask why?”, said Maurice. He found that strange. She had never asked him for anything.
“Maurice….You” Margauritte hesitated folding her arms. Then paused.
“You and I…we…” Margauritte paused again closing her eyes and shaking her head. She knew she had to go through with it come what may.
“We have a son…. in England. He is soon to complete his current term at university and will be out in a two weeks for the rest of the summer”, said Margauritte.
Maurice was mortified to learn that he left her with a child. He immediately began to think about Henri his son and then began to shake his head in disbelief.
“Margauritte…. Why have you not spoken of this? I have been in charge of my father’s salon’s now for a year. On my visits while we worked alongside one another…the very least you could have done is … Had it never crossed your mind to tell me?? Why have you chosen to tell me right at this time…right at this very moment? All these … many many years have passed, Margauritte!”, said Maurice as he slapped his thigh with his hand. Maurice in complete disbelief sat up from the chaise lounge they were sharing.
“Increibele!”, said Maurice in French as he adjusted his breeches.
Margauritte remained silent.
The thought of making room in his mind for another child he did not raise or come to know began to disturb him greatly. Henri was unexpected and his experience in raising a child alone after his wife left him began to frightened him. He was further horrified with the fact that he abandoned Margauritte -- and with a child!
There was another very long pause between them. Maurice’s steely grey eyes were piercing her soul.
“I….I did not know I was with child. You…left so suddenly…you said then you were to marry a royal due to a contract. I found out about my child a good month after you left”, said Margauritte.
There was another long strange moment of silence between them. Maurice began to recall their last night together. He remembered his making love to her and knew he did not want to let her go. He promised her he would return. He felt the guilt he felt toward Margauritte deepen. And it hurt him to know how much she endured on her own.
Margauritte knew immediately she made a grand mistake by not telling him outright years ago. She sensed his distress signs clearly.
“I already have made plans, mon cheri”, said Maurice as he broke their silence and quickly made up his mind by dismissing the thought of this child from his mind altogether.
“We are due to leave in a few days”, said Maurice.
“Leave? Leave? Leave to where?” asked Margauritte.
“What about Max??? asked Margauritte.
“Max???”, said Maurice startled at hearing the boy’s strange name. Hearing the name invoked a sudden reality of this child’s sudden inescapable existence into his life.
“Maurice Maximilien Henri Xavier Francois Marceau, II”, said Margauritte.
“He bears my name! And without my permission!!!” said Maurice fighting this new reality.
“The laws differ in England”, said Margauritte.
“Well done…Margauritte…. Well done”, said Maurice rubbing the back of his head as he walked to the window facing Bourbon street. He folded his hands behind his back as he stood there. He felt an overwhelming obligation to her. Her having his child changed everything. He knew if Margauritte was any other woman, he would easily make an offer to pay her off just as he had done with one of his maids who succeeded in having physical relations with him in the many year’s past. Very few women kept his interest at least in a physical sense. He felt an overwhelming obligation in acknowledging Margauritte’s son as his own and knew that by his doing so, his guilt and obligation to her would ease. At least he was doing something. Yet, he was becoming most uncomfortable with the fact that this new son of his had already grown up without him and felt ill at ease not knowing what kind of young man he turned out to be. He wondered if this young man would be worthy of being his son. He began to wonder if it was already too late to get to know him. He knew he had to make a grand effort on his part at least for Margauritte’s sake.
Another long moment of silence stood between them. He knew he had to make up his mind and quickly. Margauritte for her part began to feel Maurice’s waves of disappointment. She felt they were headed for another break in their relationship. She quietly put on her shoes and began to gather her gloves and hat. She knew him more than he knew himself.
He turned round and watched her movements intently.
“How were you able to raise him?”, asked Maurice folding his arms leaning against the wall facing her.
“Your father paid me well enough…as garcon. We… we got by”, said Margauritte.
“How were you able to afford university”, asked Maurice.
“The local clerics made it possible for Max to enter …en gratuitment”, said Margauritte.
“I see”, said Maurice still looking at her intently.
He was startled by the fact that she never once asked him for money all these years and was certain she did not own a home of her very own which he decided he would provide for her and her son.
“Where are you going?”, asked Maurice.
“I am leaving”, said Margauritte as she walked towards the door.
“I realize the very idea of my having your son has disappointed you…grandly”, said Margauritte.
She reached for the door. Maurice walked quickly towards her and reached for her arm to stop her.
“Please do not leave. I have plans for us to attend a dinner. Please…please…stay”, said Maurice. He reached for her hand and held it.
“I apologize for my disappointing you”, said Margauritte as she looked up to him.
A thought flashed into his mind of the slightest possibility of this young man may not be truly his, yet he knew that Margauritte had remained unmarried all these years and had never been known to deceive him or his family on anything. His own security guards kept an eye on her as she traveled to many of his family’s salons throughout Europe, and never once was there a young boy or any man ever reported in her company.
He also knew that by adding Margauritte to his life, possibly as his mistress, would finally bring hope to his parents – most especially with the addition of a new son and would clarify a few doubts notably expressed in public about his personal life in the gazettes. He knew she was a decent woman. He also knew his uncertainty of his fulfilling his part with her as husband and lover. A fulfillment that he lost interest in many times with other women who left disappointed. A truth he guarded with great care. His relationship and pleasures he shared with Guillaume were a stabilizing element in his life that he would never give up and would continue discreetly as they always have.
“Plan your spending some time living with me at least temporarily”, said Maurice very decisively. He felt Margauritte’s gentle and undemanding manner would not interfere with his relationship with Guillaume.
Margauritte was beyond disbelief. Never had she expected such an unexpected turn of events. And so suddenly.
“Oh how absurd! How can that be? I just arrived here, Maurice. I certainly did not expect this grand of a jesture from you. You do not have to do this. I…definitely find that most generous of you surely, yet it is most unnecessary. I am not even asking you for money. Yet I know my son would benefit grandly knowing he has a father. He is in dire need of a father and I know your circumstances do include your having a wife. And I certainly cannot imagine our living with you – most especially here in your chateaux in Paris! I most certainly do not care to interfere”, said Margauritte as she thought of herself and his wife living under the same roof.
“I am planning on bringing you, your son, and Guillame to live with me and Henri at my chateaux in the upper Pyrenees. At least for the duration of the summer on the premise of my needing to get to know your son”, said Maurice.
“Our son”, said Maurgaruitte.
“And Guillame?” said Margauritte.
“My personal friend and valet here at the hotel”, said Maurice.
Margauritte felt relieved. She thought perhaps he had another illegitimate son.
“Oui. All of you. There is plenty of room. My chateaux has 83 rooms. You will live under my roof as my mistress”, said Maurice.
“And what of your wife?”, asked Margauritte.
“I will make it easy for her. She will agree to my terms. You will see”, said Maurice. He knew he was taking an enormous risk by announcing this news to his wife. For as far as Vivienne was concerned, Maurice was never known to have had a mistress or any other woman for that matter.
“And what about your son, Henri?”, asked Margauritte.
“He has three women he is scheduled to meet and decide upon marrying. He will soon be on his own”. Maurice sighed.
Margauritte’s heart began to sink at the thought of another young man’s life ruined by a contractual marriage.
“I must be frank, Maurice”, said Margauritte.
“It has been these marriage contracts that have kept us apart and kept us from marrying. You know how I have felt about you. You are the only man that has reigned in my heart and in my soul. I have been with no other man except you. We have been apart so many years now” said Margauritte.
He looked into her eyes intently and a part of him understood completely. She loved his steely grey eyes.
“Maurice I also must tell you… that our son…knows he is illegitimate. I need your help for his sake”, said Margauritte.
“How…old .. is he…”, asked Maurice not wanting to know too much all at once.
“He is of the age where excuses no longer appease him. He has held his suspicions so long”, said Margauritte.
“Living under the plume of illegitimacy must have been difficult for him to say the least”, said Maurice.
“…he got by”, said Margauritte.
“How old is he”, asked Maurice knowing perfectly well the young man would be between 14 to 15 years of age.
“Fifteen”, said Margauritte.
“Fifteen…and he’s at university?”, asked Maurice.
“The scholars… have found him very advanced in knowledge for his age. He will be completing his bachelor in one and a half years time”, said Margauritte.
“Where is he attending?”, asked Maurice.
“Cambridge”, said Margauritte.
“Cambridge!”, said Maurice.
“Yes. He took to my step-father’s teaching at age two and caught on so quickly. His mental capability was measured many many years ahead of his fellow students by age six. He appears to have an advanced talent for languages, mathematics, and astronomy at university. He excels in all his examinations so well… and his speech, Maurice! He speaks 10 years ahead of his age!”, said Margauritte.
“Incredible…for such a young man”, said Maurice. His interest in the young man began to take hold. He knew he had to report this new son to Alphonse, his jurist, by messenger and knew he needed to commence his inquiries on the boy.
“Oh, Maurice”, said Margauritte as she reached for him and kissed him tenderly. He did not return her kiss yet he held her. She finally felt safe while in his arms after these many years on her own.
There was a knock at the door.
“Oui”, said Maurice through the door.
“Your chauffeur is waiting, Messeur”, said the portier through the door.
“We will be right down”, said Maurice.
He turned to look at Margauritte again and kissed her hand.
“I hope to continue our old friendship…at least for as long as you are willing to keep me as a friend. I am not the same man you once knew, Margauritte. I will disappoint you as a husband as well as a lover. Consider yourself warned for I have disappointed many”, sighed Maurice. Margauritte was elated by these turn of events. She felt so very happy to have him in her life once once again. A few more moments passed between them as they held one another. Margauritte felt her prayers were finally answered.
“We are going to have to go, Margauritte. We are late as it is”, whispered Maurice he looked at her and wiped her tears with his hand. He truly did not care to leave. He wanted to spend more time with her.
He walked over to the chair by the fire and reached for his coat, powdered wig and cloak over his evening suite. She recouffed her hair and held it by a comb and then placed her plumaged hat over it. They both looked at one another by the long mirrors by the hall entrance. She placed his powdered wig on on his head. Maurice kissed her hand and opened the door for her and they both stepped down the hallway and down the grand stairs arm in arm.
The concierge for the evening gave them a nod as they passed by surprised to see a woman by Maurice’s side. They stepped into Maurice’s carriage and sped away quickly. The route would be a short one from the hotel. The streets were lit by torches and bonfires from the people camping in the streets. They sat close to one another and held hands while in the carriage. Margauritte was elated to share this moment with him as this was their first social outing as a couple in fifteen years.
They reached the gated entrance to the Duc de Roche’s chateaux.
They were greeted by servants holding torches to help lead the guests to the main entrance.
Margauritte looked so happy as she held his arm. She was enthralled by all the grandeur.
No one recognized Maurice as he was seldom seen in public. They waited in line until their names were asked and written down by a servant before formerly announcing their presence and proceeding inside. Maurice noticed that there were women present and Margauritte at least would not be bored. He caught the eye of his brother-in-law, the Duc d’ Laurenc’s with his mistress while waiting for their names to be announced.
“Le Duc d’ Laurenc and Madame Charlotte”, announced the servant.
“Le Deputé Marchand and Madame Marchand”, announced the servant.
“Le Marquis de Maupaussant and Madame Reneé”, announced the servant.
“Messeur Maurice Marceau and Madame Margauritte”, announced the servant.
The entire room fell into a hushed silence upon hearing the name. Maurice and Margauritte were greeted by an entire line of co-hosts and immediately caught the attention of all present. His name was famous yet his face was seldom seen in public. His handsome face and physique stunned all in attendance. So very few of the wealthy in France held such money and good looks in combination and with such magnetism. Maurice carried himself well and beheld those in attendance in absolute awe. He was a fine one. And to the few who knew him, Maurice was never known to bring a woman with him to the few social events he chose to attend as he always arrived alone. This was a first in many many years.
The entire sitting room to the chateaux was full to the brim with people and many were piqued in seeing the richest and most powerful man in France. And with a woman! After announcing all of the guests, a servant rang a small bell and signaled everyone to sit down. The sitting room was filled with upholstered chairs, canape’s and chaisse lounge’s everywhere.
Everyone sat where they could to catch a glimpse of Margauritte. A lot of the women raised their hand glasses trying to recognize Margauritte and none of them knew who she was. Her red hair and the peacock blue silk gown she wore, and the fact that no one knew her attracted a lot of attention of both the men and women present. Maurice and Margauritte were led to sit between the Duc’d Laurenc and Deputé Marchand. Madames Reneé and Marchand were thrilled to be the first to greet them and begin conversation.
“Nice to see you again Messeur Marceau. It has been quite some time since we saw you last”, said Madame Reneé.
“I have been busy elsewhere, my dear. Allow me to introduce Margauritte”, said Maurice.
Margauritte extended her hand in greeting to the both of them. “My pleasure”, said Margauritte.
The Duc d’ Laurenc was stunned to see his brother-in-law introduce any woman in public in all the years he knew him. A sure sign she was his mistress. The first in many years as far as the Duc or his sister Vivienne, Maurice’s wife, were concerned
“Your gown is exquisite, Madame. Where did you get it”, asked Madame Marchand.
“I bought it in England”, Maurice interjected.
“The color is absolutely beautiful to look at… May I?”, asked Madame Marchand as she extended her gloved hand and felt the heavy peacock blue silk fabric.
“The color is absolutely beautiful on you. A gorgeous peacock blue against your lovely auburn hair”, said Madame Reneé.
“The King is no longer allowing the import of silks from England. We need to open up our textiles again and start weaving”, said Madame Reneé as she flicked her fan open.The women began to talk among themselves.
D’ Laurenc upon hearing Margauritte’s English accent began to wonder why Maurice kept her hidden all these years and how long Maurice knew her.
“Maurice, how is business”, said the Duc d’ Laurenc.
“My businesses keep me very busy all year round”, said Maurice as he crossed his long legs turning his attention away from the women.
“We heard about your taking over the Salón Orangerie and turning it into a decent place for entertainment”, said the Duc.
“It will remain private, let me tell you”, said Maurice.
“And what of Chenier”, asked the Duc.
“I asked him for a run of Charles IX. A kind stroke of fate for him considering your not willing to allow the play to run normally at our public theatres”, said Maurice.
“Indeed. The play is about a national tragedie. I do not want to shake the nerves of our dear Louis at the moment. That day…will come. At least Chenier has something to do and some money to earn”, said the Duc.
“I hear talk of an upcoming ball and a title of merit for you, Maurice. Is this true?”, asked the Duc.
“Your cousin Louis owes me quite a lot of money. And I know he cannot pay me back”, said Maurice ignoring the Duc’s statement with a smile as he took up a glass of wine offered him by a servant.
“A good thing you have more than enough money, my man! What think you of my cousin’s reign now considering our country’s disastrous financial circumstances?”, asked the Duc.
“I think and live the life of a financier. Those who owe me money do regret it as I get it back one way or another. As far as your cousin is concerned, I am prepared to sit and wait and perhaps… not expect it at all”, said Maurice.
The Duc smiled.
“I believe he has given you quite a bit of land in Nouvelle Orleans. That can be worth billions in the very near future”, said the Duc.
“I have had a few of my engineers make an assessment of the land and soil. I believe I can safely build upon the higher elevations within the city. The area is already known for inclement weather during the summers causing some flooding in the lower areas”, said Maurice.
“You have looked into this rather well”, said the Duc.
“I also know that this title of merit will not count for anything in the near future. I have not been fooled on that either”, said Maurice.
Everyone within their small circle gasped at Maurice’s comment.
“I trust that you know what you are saying”, said the Duc.
“Oh but of course.You and I both know how this country’s direction is going to change…eventually”, said Maurice.
“What are your plans?”, asked the Duc.
“I am ready for anything and everything, day or night…come what may. I am always prepared”, said Maurice dropping an indirect hint to his brother-in-law about his being followed as he sipped his wine.
“My, my”, said deputé Marchand.
“If only the rest of us could have such options”, said the deputé.
“Gentlemen…Ladies”, said a kind gentlemanly voice behind them. They all turned round to find the Duc de Roche, their host, behind them.
“I must steal this very important gentleman from your presence”, said the Duc de Roche as he looked to Maurice.
Maurice got up and bowed to Madames Charlotte and Marchand and the Duc d’ Laurenc and kissed Margauritte on the cheek before following the Duc de Roche.
“My my my, he is in demand is he not?”, said deputé Marchand.
The Duc d’ Laurenc became angry as he felt he should have been the one asked for because of his royal rank. Margauritte sensed this and broke his train of thought by bringing him into conversation.
“I hear your friend the Prince of Wales has done well with his hunting pursuits of late”, said Margauritte.
The Duc grinned at her for her comment and quickly said, “I can tell you hold the highest of circles in England, Madame Margauritte for only a chosen few know that I hunt with the Prince”, said Duc d’ Laurenc.
“We have a son at Cambridge”, said Margauritte.
“Mon Dieu! Cambridge is one of the best universities in the world. What is his field of study?”, asked the Duc. He secretly could not wait to tell his sister Vivienne this alarming news.
“Mathematics and Astronomy”, said Margauritte.
“Such wonderful fields of study and this is the time to have them. Why with all the discoveries of the planets and changes brought about in the colonies, expeditions abroad discovering new territories and Maurice owner to several financial holdings world-wide, such a son will come in handy”, said the Duc who began to appreciate Margauritte’s breasts more and more. Madame Charlotte, as mistress to the Duc sensed his attraction to her. She felt no jealousy as she knew the Duc’s passions were intense and fleeting.
The servants began to disperse more wine and champagne before the guests.
Margauritte looked to Charlotte for guidance. Charlotte smiled and said “The Duc is very active in all sports”, hinting to Margauritte that she had her permission if the Duc pursued.
The Duc continued his pursuit of Margauritte by placing his hand on her lap not knowing that Margauritte was well prepared. She did not reject his attention. “I hear the Duc is well endowed with talent”, said Margauritte in reply.
The Duc was intensively taken with Margauritte and was quite pleased by her innuendo. He wanted to take her on right then and there were it not for the many guests all about. He was thankful for her comments and his jealousy for Maurice was soon forgotten.
Margauritte knew she succeeded.
Both the Duc d’ Laurenc and Maurice were the richest men in France. The Duc was wealthy by marriage to his wife Louise Marie , daughter to the Duke of Penrose. Maurice, on the other hand, was born into a family of extreme wealth that has lasted well over five centuries. The Marceau family, multi-billionaires with their established enormous amount of wealth led to their financing and lending money to various heads of state and sovereigns from various countries the world-over. Maurice and his family owned various businesses in textiles, sugar, cocoa, coffee, gold, silver, nickel, tin and coal mining as well as gambling Salóns throughout the world in addition. And in the eyes of the Kings of France, the Marceau family, for generations, have always been included in royal marriage contracts due to their vast amount of wealth.
The servants came round once more picking up wine and champagne glasses for soon everyone was to be seated at the grand dining table that could hold 150 guests at one time.
A tiny bell was rung and a page appeared in full livery. No one heard it as the entire sitting room was noisy due to the many people present. The tiny bell was rung again and again until the entire room became silent.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of France, dinner is served. Please take note of the name cards on each plate setting”, said the page as he set forth.
Everyone was slow in getting up from their settees and canape’s as they were slightly drunk from drink as there were no entrees to nibble on.
The guests found a 10 metre table which required a good walk round. Margauritte noticed that Maurice had not returned and decided to get up. The Duc d’ Laurenc offered her his arm and that of his mistress Charlotte on the other and they proceeded to walk slowly as there was a crowd in front of them.
The Duc reluctantly let go of Margauritte’s arm as they each had to take note of the names on each placard before finding their seat. As Margauritte walked towards the upper end of the table, she came to a stop as she found her name and that of Maurice next to her. Their seating was to the right of the main host, the Duc de Roche. A servant pulled her chair back so that she could sit down. Her silk dress had not a wrinkle on it and she was happy that the fabric had withstood the test of time. The empty chair next to her was for Maurice. She noticed that the Duc d’ Laurenc and Charlotte sat opposite a few seats down. As the many guests began to find their way to their seats she saw two men walking her way. A servant pulled a chair for each of the men for them to sit. The young man looked at her and introduced himself rather gently “Greetings Madame Margauritte. I am Abbe Emmanuel Chantal and this is my assistant Francois”, said the Abbe. Margauritte was quite flushed by his knowing her name. “It is my pleasure, gentlemen”, said Margauritte as she extended her gloved hand in greeting to the both of them.
“I must ask. How did you know of my name?”, asked Margauritte.
“We were told of your name by the servant leading us to this very table”, said the Abbe.
“I see”, said Margauritte quietly relieved although not showing it.
“My apologies, Abbe, I am not familiar with anyone present”, said Marguaritte.
“We are familiar with only a small group of people here in attendance. There is a grand meeting going on in an adjoining room. Your husband is still there”, said the Abbe.
“Merci”, said Marguerritte.
“Are you religious?”, asked the Abbe.
“No, I am afraid that I am not. My apologies”, said Margauritte.
“I see”, said the Abbe.
“Have you any children?”, asked the Abbe.
“Yes. We have a son at Cambridge”, said Margauritte.
“Mon Dieu! What an education! What is his study?”, asked the Abbe.
“Mathematics and Astronomy”, said Margauritte.
“Such fine fields of study and very much in demand these days”, said the Abbe.
“Where is your parish?”, asked Margauritte.
“I have no parish, Madam. I am a professor at the Sarbonne”, said the Abbe.
“I see”, said Marguerritte.
“What a time we find ourselves living in”, said Margauritte.
“Indeed, Madame. Our society appears to be at a precipice.”, said Abbe.
“My apologies, Abbe. I did not know you were an Abbe. I do not see you wearing your cloth”, said Margauritte.
“I am rethinking my role as an Abbe”, he said.
Margauritte was becoming intrigued with this man. The servants began to serve the first course of the meal and made their way about rather slowly.
“How so?”, asked Margauritte.
“I am much too political to be a man of the cloth. I feel my true path lies with that of directing our nation to a new understanding the equality of the common man and what religion is and should be. We seem to be following man-made rules and have lost our focus from the 10 rules God has given us since Moses. We appear to be kneeling here, paying for our sins with money as indulgences there, not recognizing the role of women as equal and that of all men be they rich or poor, educated or otherwise”, said the Abbe.
“Mon Dieu! I have never heard such words from a religious”, said Margauritte.
“Do you believe in divorce?”, asked Margauritte.
“Most certainly. I am in favor of it. There are too many souring marriages based on financial arrangements and ties to royal blood. No true love seems to exist anymore. Marriage appears to be based upon convenience for both husband and wife. The husband has his mistress, the wife her lover, and the children and illegimates that follow are to suffer for it”, said the Abbe.
Margauritte could not believe the words he was saying. Mistresses were tolerated by the wives and legitimate heirs, and approved of by mistresses and illegitimate children. There seemed to be an invisible social demarcation that could only be solved by a decree of divorce.
“Do you believe that the clergy of France would allow divorce?”, asked Margauritte.
“A most important question that your husband will be putting forth at our next meeting of the general assembly”, said Abbe.
“Mon Dieu! You are a member of the clergy estate?”, asked Margauritte.
“Not officially as elections are due this coming January, although I have secured my election for membership to the assembly and I am to represent the neighboring parish and province of the Sarbonne”, said the Abbe.
“Increibele!”, said Margauritte.
“I have never met a member of the clergy assembly”, said Margauritte.
“I see that you are not political, Madame”, said the Abbe.
“Quite right. I handle my daily affairs and pick up a bit of news here and there and unless Maurice tells me outright, I would not have an idea as to what is going on”, said Margauritte.
The servants began to serve the wine and champagne. Maurice was not anywhere in sight.
“There are going to be many many changes in the coming year. I guarantee you, that by next year, the grievances listed throughout this country will be addressed and voted upon by each estate. Yet, the measurement of the vote in and of itself should be the first order of business. Each member to each estate should be voting individually on every grievance submitted”, said the Abbe.
“Increibele”, said Margauritte.
“I am afraid your husband has been detained. He is a very powerful man. What he says is highly honored and respected. One aspect I have noticed about him is that he is extremely clever about our country’s way of doing business abroad. Whatever guidance he gives us we apply seriously. We need him to stay in this country permanently”, said the Abbe.
Margauritte was inwardly startled by the Abbe’s comment on Maurice as her husband and made certain that she did not show it.
“Abbé. Maurice is everywhere and anywhere at any time. No one can hold him down. Not even I or any law of this country or any country. Do not try to pin him down legally as his status is free of any country’s jurisdiction. A few people have tried and lost so considerably. It will be very hard to find a juriste or court anywhere to go against him”, said Margauritte.
“Your advice is well heeded. You would know more than anyone”, said the Abbe.
“Do not be concerned. We have no plans to retain him in anyway. He has been most prominent and useful to our cause and we respect him deeply”, said the Abbe.
The second course of the meal began to be served as still no sight of Maurice or the Duc de Roche.
“I wonder who is keeping him”, said Margauritte.
“The Duc de Roche and several others running for election to the Estate General. They are asking him for his advice on our country’s finances and the upcoming meeting of the assembly”, said the Abbe.
Both Margauritte and the Abbe began to eat their dinner. Finally after three-quarters of an hour, Maurice accompanied by the Duc de Roche and several men emerged and sat at their places.
“I have returned. Have you missed me, Cheri”, said Maurice as he planted a kiss on her cheek.
“Indeed. Myself and the Abbé, said Margauritte.
“We meet again”, said Maurice as he smiled and extended his hand in greeting the Abbe.
The Duc de Roche, as the main host, took his place at the head of the grand table and began to tap his silver spoon against his champagne glass to get everyone’s attention.
“Greetings, Ladies and Gentlemen of France”, said the Duc de Roche.
“I hope you are enjoying your dinner this evening. My apologies for being so late as I and a few others have met and engaged in a meeting concerning our country and our current state of affairs. I would like to begin with proposing a toast to the man of the evening seated here to my right. He is the richest man in all of Europe and very likely the world. France is fortunate to have such a man as her native son and citizen; a man conscious of her well being. A man, who takes care of France when she lacks money. Gasps were heard throughout. A man, who takes care of his servants well and treats them equally and looks after their welfare. A man, according to every maid, valet, butler and portier has saved them from financial ruin and despair many, many times. A man, who educates the children of his servants and even invites his servants as his guests to an upcoming ball held in his honor by our King. Gasps were heard again. A man who…consciously makes certain his servants lack nothing. Ladies and Gentlemen of France: We have a man in our presence who truly understands the financial welfare of our country and the welfare of her citizens both rich and poor. A man, who truly lives and embodies the elements of equality, fraternity and liberté to all who serve him. A man, whom this country, would soon well mimic both in action and in deed. Please join me in this toast in honor of Messeur Maurice Henri Xavier Francois Marceau.
Everyone got up and raised their glasses and drank their champagne and then began to clap hard as most in attendance stood in disbelief at hearing the many unheard of generosities granted by Maurice.
Maurice was truly astounded. He had not expected such a gesture from the Duc. The guests clapped hard lasting a good five minutes. The Duc gestured Maurice to stand up. Those in attendance clapped even harder as he stood up.
Maurice was so taken aback by this that he was certain Guillame and the rest of the hotel maids and butlers kept this as a surprise to him. They were his eyes and ears. He saw Guillame holding his fan with a male friend in attendance and smiled at him. Guillame blew him a kiss from far away. He was surprised to find Leon, his accountant and Alphonse, his juriste as they waved their greeting. He was even more surprised to find his chauffeur Alber in full livery within the audience. Alber bowed. He recognized several maids and portiers he knew from the Hotel de Salm and a few of his own butlers and parlour maids from his chateaux in Paris. Maurice was very touched.
Margauritte was so very proud of him.
“Speech” “Speech”, said a few in attendance as the clapping continued.
Maurice was shaken to the core and remained speechless.
“Are you up to giving a speech?”, whispered the Duc.
Maurice placed his hand on his heart and nodded a non as he was much too overtaken by this surprise.
The crowd understood his gesture and clapped all the more for his modesty. The Duc de Roche gestured with his hands for the crowd to stop. Everyone in attendance fell in admiration for Maurice. No one among the citizenry of France has ever been so generous and so noble towards those less fortunate. And most importantly, they knew Maurice represented hope in clearing the country’s current financial and political crises.
“Everyone sit down”, said the Duc as the clapping continued.
“Sit down”, said the Duc.
Everyone sat down while the Duc remained standing.
“Maurice I feel you have captured our nation’s heart. The extent of your generosity has not been told before tonight. We know of your upcoming invitation by our King and of his paying tribute to you. This very evening, with the citizens of France before you, is our people’s tribute to you for all that you have done and given”, said the Duc. The audience got up from their chairs and began to clap hard.
Maurice smiled and placed his hand on his heart as a gesture of appreciation. The crowd immediately understood.
“Mon Dieu, my dear friend. I believe you now made several hundred new friends”, said the Duc. The audience laughed.
“I hope that all of you will enjoy the rest of the dinner. I am glad that you have been able to share with me the importance of this man and my honoring him. The King is right in giving such a citizen a title of some kind as he too recognizes his generousity. He is well admired by rich and poor alike”, said the Duc as he sat down.
Everyone in attendance began to clap again.
The Duc de Roche was anxious to continue his conversation with Maurice.
“I am so shaken by this”, said Maurice. “I am absolutely speechless”.
“I thought we would surprise you. It took the cooperation of several hundred people to keep this as a surprise”, said the Duc.
“Did you see Armand the concierge in the audience tonight?”, asked Margauritte.
“Yes, and even Guillame himself!”, said Maurice.
“How sly of all of them to keep this from me”, nodded Maurice with a smile.
“Even Alber is in attendance!”, said Maurice.
“Alber your chauffeur?”, asked Margauritte as she looked out.
“The very same”, said Maurice.
The Duc was enjoying Maurice’s surprise to the full. He was laughing at hearing Maurice finding his own servants in attendance.
“I am so thankful for such a wonderful speech my dear friend. I am astounded by this dinner and such show of kindness”, said Maurice as he embraced the Duc de Roche.
“Oh, this was long in coming, Maurice. You have saved us all countless of times that I cannot bear the thought of the money our country owes you”, said the Duc.
“I am fortunate to have been born into a family of grand wealth and even more so to have shared with my country and with those in need. It gives me great pleasure that I have helped so many of the children from my own servants. I have watched them become juristes, mathematicians, and professors. It is such an incredible feeling. It is a blessing for me to give. It truly is and an honor too”, said Maurice still shaken.
“I am glad to have shown you our love, Maurice. It has gone unspoken long enough”, said the Duc.
A servant came by and whispered to the Duc.
“Tell them afterwards. We will have something for them afterwards”, said the Duc. The servant left.
“The peasantry outside is asking for food. We will give them all that is left from this dinner”, said the Duc.
“I see the long lines at the boulangeries for bread again. I am beginning to see some permanent signs of economic decline as there are more families camping on the streets than before on my prior visit”, said Maurice.
“This from a man who does not live here permanently in Paris”, said the Duc.
“My businesses require so much of me that I find myself away more and more”, said Maurice.
“It certainly gives you a fresh perspective”, said the Duc.
“Indeed it does. I find the poverty more astounding now than on my last trip here. That is the difference. I have seen long lines for bread before… yet, this time, the lives of our people appear to have become even harder. Never have I seen so many families camp on the streets as as we have now”, said Maurice.
“Well, you have an upcoming audience with the King. You know where we all stand. Hopefully he will listen to you and take you seriously. We have all warned him. And, as we watch him listen, we know that his opinion of what we, as members to the third estate, are saying will stay with him only as long as someone else from the noble estate offers another one. He agrees with everyone and that is his problem. He is afraid to take a stand and offend those in opposition. He knows the changes he needs to make. Yet, when one ignores the welfare of the common man, unrest and chaos soon follow”, said the Duc.
“You see d’ Laurenc over there”, said the Duc.
“He is most anxious to take the crown from the King. He almost took away his power once”, said the Duc.
“Indeed. He is not so proud to be the second- most wealthiest man in all of France. I feel the extent of his jealousy towards me from across the table. And I see him admiring Margauritte”, said Maurice.
“He is power hungry, Maurice. He wants the crown so badly and almost had it in his hands when this King’s elder brother, the true dauphin royale died. Now you find d’ Laurenc financing a revolution to overthrow him. Surely, as his brother-in-law he expects your support”, said the Duc.
“I am well aware of that”, said Maurice.
“You are the luckiest man in all the world. You have a beautiful mistress, a wonderful son, and no one can match your powerful means of wealth. Tell, me. Just what does all that financial freedom feel like?”, asked the Duc.
“Indeed I hold a freedom unknown to anyone outside my family”, said Maurice.
“Where is your family, Maurice. No one has seen your father or your mother in over twenty years. Where are they?”, asked the Duc.
“They live abroad. We have several chateauxs the world over. They are naturalized citizens of just about every country they choose to live in. We shift our way round the world like nomads, depending on the political winds”, said Maurice.
“Have you a sister that I can marry?”, asked the Duc in jest.
“I do have a younger sister and brother. Both remain unmarried. My parents are still alive and quite astonished to not having more grandchildren. My sister loves to learn and has attended university both as patron and as student. How else can a woman get an education in these times? She had to study the discipline of Medicine privately. Because she is a woman, she is not given a degree, despite her private classes and completing examinations and a patron! It is sad at the plight of women. They need to learn and hold a career just like any man. As for my younger brother? Who knows. He carries on the family business just as I do. He loves Haitian women. He in particular loves this one woman from Haiti. He loves their country. He loves the people. He has a handful of children with Arianna. He plans to marry her one day”, said Maurice as he turned toward Margauritte and kissed her hand. Those in attendance saw the gesture and admired the man even more for his adoration towards her.
“Do you care to have nieces and nephews of a different race?” asked the Duc.
“I care not. I see them every now and again when he brings them for a visit. My nephews and nieces are well educated and can speak in Latin, English, French, Russian and German. It is unbelievable holding a conversation with them. They know so much about the world”, said Maurice.
“How does Henri feel about his Haitian cousins?”, asked the Duc.
“He has known them since he was very young. He does not see them any different from that of his childhood friends here in France”, said Maurice.
“Why has Henri not gone to university?”, asked the Duc.
“He has chosen not to. He has a natural talent for farming and studying the weather and knowing nature all around him. He attended the local parish school. He chose not to go further. He felt most at home in managing the farm. His is very much a farmer—not an international business man or a juriste. He is quiet and reserved like his Grandpere. He is very much a deep thinker and keeps his thoughts to himself. We need a farmer in the family. He has a natural talent with land and the ability to read soil. And he loves his cousins”, said Maurice.
“Mon Dieu”, said the Duc. “I admire your family and their ability to adopt those from other races so well. This must be because you travel. If everyone traveled as much as you, there would be more respect of people of other races and their way of living. This reminds me. We will be having Ambassador Franklin pay us a visit a few weeks from now. I pray that you will be in town?”, asked the Duc.
“I believe so although I do have an upcoming trip and it is not certain how soon I can return”, said Maurice.
“I look forward to meeting him. I need his advice in solving my right of ownership to some land in Nouvelle Orleans. I realize full well that this territory belongs to Spain at the moment. Yet because its location is well within the boundaries of some of the southern colonies, I would do well to speak to him of my situation personally. I may send Alphone, my jurist if I find I will not be able to return in time”, said Maurice.
The servants began to clear all the furniture from the neighboring sitting room to make space for some dancing. The musicians were heard fine turning their instruments.
“I best be getting my wife. I have no idea where she is. Please excuse me”, said the Duc as he got up.
“I cannot believe this evening. I am still shaken by this”, said Maurice.
“Darling. Do not take it all in stride. They are incredibly indebted to you”, said Margauritte.
“Yes… although… I must say Margauritte…that my sixth sense is telling me to get out and get out now”, whispered Maurice.
“Get out? Where? And why now? You are the height of your career here. This is no time to leave France. Are you leaving us?”, asked Marguerritte making certain her face gave no hint of her alarm to those present.
“No darling”, said Maurice in hushed tones and turned his face in such a way where his lips could not be read by anyone in the room. “This is not the time to discuss this. But I must tell you that the people on the streets do not feel the same to me. There is a very strong undercurrent that tells me that something is just not right. I see it in their eyes. There is something sinister about. I can feel it. I would get out of that ball if I could. Too bad it is not until September”, whispered Maurice.
“Seriously, darling?”whispered Margauritte.
“I would not be telling you this otherwise, Margauritte. You have known me too long to know that I do not waste my words or talk in jest”, whispered Maurice.
“Incredible. Here you are at the epitome of your life and hearing you talk in this way. Ah mon cherie… you are tired”, said Margauritte as she held him close.
The dancing was about to begin with the Duc and Duchess de Roche leading the first dance.
Maurice took hold of Marguerritte’s hand and led her to the floor and the music began a grand rondeau as others joined them. Maurice looked round and no sign of Guillame, Leon or Alphonse anywhere. The rondeau soon finished and Maurice and Margauritte went back to their table.
“May we join you?”, asked the Duc de Laurenc with his mistress Charlotte at his side.
“Indeed”, said Maurice. Two neighboring servants pulled up some chairs for them.
“I believe you have several invitations coming”, said de Laurenc.
“Oh?”, said Maurice.
“How long do you plan to stay in Paris”, asked de Laurenc.
“A few days more at least”, said Maurice.
“Good. There appears to be a need of your presence at a few upcoming events. If you care to attend, of course”, said the Duc.
“And what are these?”, asked Maurice.
“A few gatherings here and there of various persons of interest. Namely a few juristes”, said de Laurenc.
“May we join you?”, asked the Abbe and his assistant.
“Please”, said Margauritte.
“I am sorry to have disrupted your conversation. However it is rare for me to sit this close to Messeur Maurice. I wonder if I can impose a few minutes of your time”, said the Abbé.
“By all means. I have plenty of opportunities with him”, said de Laurenc.
“Messeur Maurice. We have met only once before”, said the Abbé.
“As a non-royal patron to our Sarbonne, you were at one time, part of a comité for the restoration of faculties of instruction for the school of arts, theology, and medicine. However, we are all well aware of an upcoming decree to be issued by the comité of public instruction that has decided upon the suppression of the faculty for these three main schools. We need your support on this issue once again, for as you know, I am a professor of theology at the Sarbonne myself. I want to be spared of losing my position that I have retained all these years. Messeur, if we can call upon your patronage to persuade those in public office to not suspend our three main schools so that those students who have paid good money will be able to finish their degree of study and not attend elsewhere. We are at a loss to have these main schools closed to make way for the instruction of artisans and workmen and other professions of society. By all means I am not against the education for professions of masonry and artisanry, however I am against the removal of the original schools completely. Why cannot these main schools coexist with these others?”, asked the Abbé.
“Maurice, if I may”, said the Duc d’ Laurenc.
“I believe I can be of help. It was decided that workmen and artisans establish some kind of license for the practice of their trade. The guilds, as you know, have existed for many centuries and the process of becoming a tradesman has been much abused. It would take a normal man 10 years as an apprentice in carpentry before becoming a well-paid carpenter. These apprentices would be subject to all kinds of abuse such as non-payment for labor for many years. It has taken many centuries of time before this abuse was formally recognized legally. We will be establishing laws that require a formal process of education from apprenticeship to full licensure of any trade. We plan to stop formal education to make way for the common man whom without the means of a skill or trade would lead to further financial chaos and continue to burden to our society. We would have more people living out in the streets than we have now as it is”, said the Duc d’ Laurenc.
“Yes, however, without the skills of physicians the people would lack protection from disease. Yes, the people you see living in our streets are in rags, and yes, they are not making enough money to pay for the current price of bread or a roof over their heads -- and those that do, have a long line of wait. Be they in rags or in regular dress: do you see these street people ill and diseased? They are hungry, yes. However, do you see them ill and diseased? I can tell you that they are not. If you were to walk beyond the gates of this chateaux, you will see families sitting by the fires on the street keeping themselves warm. They kill dogs to have something to eat or get handouts from the clergy or passers by. Had we not been able to cure a few diseases and progress as we now have, we would have even more chaos on our hands, would we not?”, asked the Abbé. “And consider this thought. If the plague were to come again, without a good number of physicians available, I believe chaos is a small measure for that of death. Would you not agree? Imagine your tax coffers empty with no one alive to pay their tax”, asked the Abbé.
“Touché”, said the Duc rather impressed with the Abbe’s point of view.
“I tell you this”, said the Duc.
“Since you have convinced me, I will order the schools of medicine and theology to remain open and Messeur Maurice will continue to support them. I make no promise as to how long this will be as there is a lot of political and legal considerations now in debate by several candidates that have secured their election this January as members to the third estate and will be present at our upcoming assembly next May”, said the Duc d’ Laurenc.
“Merci, merci”, said the Abbé as he kissed the Duc’s hand.
“You have my continued financial support”, said Maurice.
“Merci, Messeur”, said the Abbé as he bowed and nodded his thanks to everyone at the table and left.
“I have been gone four months from Paris and I return to find more people living in the streets than I have ever seen. What is causing this?”, asked Maurice.
“My dear Maurice”, said the Duc d’ Laurenc.
“We have more peasants looking for work in the cities. Paris is no exception. The harvests from the north have been very bad as you well know these past two years. There has been no work in the country so they have come here to find work”, said the Duc d’ Laurenc.
“Bah! It cannot be… it cannot be. I live in the country as well as here. It feels as if I live in two different countries. The Midi-Pyrenees has been untouched by all the financial and food calamaties the rest of this country has experienced. You will not find peasants out there. Non! And everyone has work, food, and a roof over their head”, said Maurice.
“I go to many different countries world-over and none of them have one-tenth of the economy of France. And here I find far more peasants living in the streets, with no bread for food or a place to live. Something is just not right… “, said Maurice.
“All the more reason you agree to my suggestion that you come and attend a few evenings with me. You are the richest man in the world. We need your help in making a grand change to the social and financial mechanics of this country. No one else other than you can help with making this change. Money is what can make this change happen…peacefully”, said de Laurenc.
“Please see to it that you leave an itinerary at the Hotel de Salm”, said Maurice.
“You have a wonderful chateaux here. Why are you staying at the Hotel?”, asked the Duc.
“I am renovating. I am constructing a few walls here and there. I am also looking into in flush plumbing”, said Maurice.
“You are one of the first civilians here in Paris. How are you to connect to the sewers for drainage?”, asked de Laurenc.
“I have an engineer working on that now”, said Maurice.
It was now past two in the morning and the music and dancing had not ceased. Both Margauritte and Charlotte were looking wan and tired.
“Cherie, it is best that we leave. It is very late”, said Charlotte to the Duc d’ Laurenc.
“Indeed. Let us go. I will have someone leave an itinerary for you tomorrow with the concierge. Congratulations”, said the Duc as both he and Charlotte got up from the table and bid their adieus to Maurice and Margauritte.
“I think we should go too. You have had a very long day”, said Margauritte.
They both got up to and made their adieu to the Duc and Duchess de Roche who were in a lively conversation at the other end of the hall. Everyone remaining paid their respects to Maurice and Margauritte as they made their way towards the front door.
A servant made his way towards them and told them to wait as their carriage was coming round. Maurice began to feel nervous walking the few paces before they could get to their carriage. The servant opened their carriage door for them.
“My, Maurice. What a night!”, said Margauritte as she entered the carriage.
“Indeed, cherie. I shall not forget this night for the rest of my life. Remember it…as this is the Paris we have always known it to be”, said Maurice. The carriage was on its way back to the hotel.
“All this talk as if it is all going to be all over…why such gloom?”, asked Margauritte.
“Life here as we have always known it to be is going to change forever. I dare say I almost want to close up the chateaux here in Paris right here and now”, said Maurice.
“You must share with me what is troubling you”, said Margauritte.
“There is going to be a revolution and a bloody one at that. This is not just talk. It is going to happen. The life that we know now will be gone. Perhaps it is for the best…for everyone…except the King”, said Maurice.
“How so?”, asked Margauritte.
“The old ancient laws can no longer hold the way of life for the comman man as it is. The third estate is rising politically against the injustice held by these laws. Imagine becoming a jurist and knowing that one cannot advance to becoming a judge because these positions are held in familial throughout the entire country. Or that one cannot ever own the land you lease as a farmer because the land can only be held by those of nobility. Only the King can assign or redesign plots of land. The injustices go on and on with these old laws with no one to challenge them. The common man cannot get ahead and strive for work, food, and prosperity.There seems to be an invisible feel of dissatisfaction, no movement or progress…just this stagnation that continues to ebb and flow from the past that continues to mark its cyclic presence in every man, woman and child that is born here”, said Maurice as he sighed.
“I am doing all that I can! Yet I cannot do this alone and the unfortunate part, is that anger and rage is running rampant – everywhere. The people are gathering and I can sense it. I can see it their eyes “, said Maurice.
“The people need you now more than ever”, asked Margauritte.
“Precisely. I have now been put into a place where I am to decide the fate of this country. The extent of my generousity and financial capabilities have been fully exposed by way of this dinner. I am to choose between the King, the nobility, and the people of France. As long as my brother-in-law controls the presses, I am to expect enemies in all camps despite what I do”. Maurice sighed.
“I am bound by a commitment to the King’s plan for a ball for me this September. My wife and extended family are planning to attend and will be staying at our chateaux here in Paris. After what I have been told from tonight’s meeting, no matter what I do to help this situation, d’ Laurenc can lead the masses to think whatever he wants. The rumours he spreads can control the public. A most clever game he is playing. And I will have to hire more security. My face has now become public and I most certainly will feel the scrutiny right through the very walls of the hotel”, said Maurice.
“This sounds to me you are more afraid of the presses than the situation at hand”, said Margauritte.
“Is this why you are inviting me and our son as well as Guillame to live with you in the Midi-Pyrenees?”, asked Margauritte.
“In part. I happen to cherish my privacy and my freedom”, said Maurice.
“And I do not care to be so visible in the presses. No one needs to know what I am doing and how much I have given and where I am going”, said Maurice.
“Why? Why would you care what anyone thought or wrote about you”, asked Margauritte.
“Because I know the damage one bad deed or word falsely said can cause a grand dishonor with the public for years to come; despite the millions I have given to save this country from total financial ruin. Yes, this King does have a lot to thank me for, as I have prevented this country from complete default three times. Further, I care not to have public opinion in the form of rotten tomatoes thrown at me or at any of my carriages”, said Maurice. Truthfully, Maurice knew that disaster was short of his wife coming forward exposing his private life to her brother, the Duc d’ Laurenc, who controls the presses. He began to think Margauritte’s presence in his life was more than timely.
The carriage came to a stop and Alber, dressed in full livery, opened the door for them.
“Merci, Alber. Thank you for this wonderful surprise tonight”, said Maurice.
“You deserve it, Messeur. Congratulations”, said Alber with a smile and a bow.
“Have a good night’s sleep and we will be seeing you tomorrow morning”, said Maurice.
The doorman to the Hotel bowed and opened the door for both of them.
The lobby was totally empty except for the night concierge who greeted them with a smile. Maurice and Margauritte made their way up the stairs to their hotel room. The hall portier opened the door for them and bid them goodnight. Maurice and Margauritte headed for the bedroom and removed their evening clothes. He thought of Guillaume. He felt ill at ease knowing Margaruitte’s expectations upon sharing the same bed. He looked at her and realized she truly was meant to play a role in his life. He kept it simple. They spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms.
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... Continued...
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by Thelma Benison
Text-to-Speech and Lending: Enabled
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