Meanwhile, the Ffoulkes had arrived in Dover, where they were staying in an inn until it was time to leave. Michelle had to keep reminding herself how much she liked France, since the trip in the boat was coming up soon. She always spent the entire trip quite ill in the cabin. Sir Ffoulkes sat with his family as they ate dinner, watching them all. He wasn't sure he was completely imagining the fact that Michelle was already turning a bit green.
Michelle slept in the carriage, her father holding her gently. She had, as usual, been quite seasick on the boat and had been completely worn out. Sir Ffoulkes looked out at the lovely French countryside. It was a sunny day, most unlike the rain and fog they'd had when they had left England. He was glad they had finally made it, and that Tony seemed to be doing well. He had been quite worried about him dying on them, but Jacquot insisted that this was not so.
The journey across the Channel was uneventful for the Ffoulkes family, however, they were greeted with the usual turbulence of unpacking as soon as they reached their French estate. Lord Ffoulkes was busy making accommodations and preparations for his family's stay and for the arrival of young Tony Dewhurst. Lady Ffoulkes was frantically unpacking and carefully placing all of her precious vases, statuettes, paintings, and other favorite items which she simply could not bear to have been without.
This left Andrew and Michelle in an awkward limbo, caught between helping their parents and being smothered by them. After rounding together the local servants which usually served the Ffoulkeses while in France, Andrew snuck away to find his sister. Michelle was unpacking some of her mother's finest tableware with the most forlorn look upon her face as Andrew popped his head around the door.
Rapping on the doorframe, he whispered, "Michelle! There you are! I've been hunting high and low! I see mother has you busier than a bee already." There was no describing the look of boredom and desperation on the girl's face.
Glancing surreptitiously from side to side, Andrew continued, "While helping Father, I realized that there is a duty we've neglected. What kind of nobility would we be if we arrived in France and did not call upon our dear friends the Blakeneys'?" Michelle's eyes lit up and a smile broke across her face as she realized what her older brother was scheming.
"What's say we overlook the duties in which we are currently engaged, to attend to the far less tedious duty of rekindling old acquaintances?"
Michelle grinned. Her brother the troublemaker, once again. And, again, she was quite willing follow him in his crazy plan. She had mostly recovered from her seasickness, and wanted to get out of the house to someplace where she wouldn't have to unpack anything. "Of course," she replied equally quiet, putting down the goblet she'd been unpacking. "Let me just get my hat and gloves. Horse or carriage?" she asked, coming closer to her brother.
"A carriage would cause too much commotion," Andrew whispered as he put a leading arm around his sister. "Besides, one cannot enjoy the wind though one's hair or the thrill of the ride as much as when riding a fine horse."
Michelle and her brother exchanged naughty smiles, made a brief stop to Michelle's chamber for riding gear, then proceeded quietly on to the stable. They both knew their parents would not be particularly pleased when they found out about this unexpected departure, but what were young, noble-blooded youths supposed to do? The whole world was out there waiting to be taken in!
So, as swiftly as they mounted their steeds, they were off. It was a bit of a ride from the Ffoulkes estate to the Blakeney estate, but surely a pleasant one. France was so much more sunny and inviting than England, and Michelle and Andrew both had such pleasant memories of their times on the Continent. The two giggled and joked the whole way about how naughty and mischievous they were being. One more pleasant memory to add to the pile.
Upon arrival at the Blakeneys' manor, Michelle and Andrew regained their composure. They left their horses with the stable boy, whom had been cleaning up some awful-looking mess. Andrew wasn't certain, of course, but it seemed to be rather bloody. Had an animal been slaughtered behind the stable? That made little sense. Perhaps one of the horses got loose and stepped on a house cat or something.
When Ffoulkes looked up to the horses, he noticed a familiar face which made him forget his previous train of thought. "Is that Hastings' mount?" Andrew wondered aloud. "What was the fiery thing's name... Lightning? No! Nightmare!"
"It is!" Michelle exclaimed. "Let's go! Just think, all of us together again! What fun we'll have! I can't wait to see how Emilie is doing." She practically pulled her brother up to the door, where she composed herself to be more "proper."
A few short moments after ringing the bell, Dessau answered the door, quite surprised to see still more visitors fresh from England. "Good day," said Andrew quite formally. "Please inform Young Sir Percy, Lady Emilie, and Lord Hastings if he is within, that Young Sir Andrew Ffoulkes and Young Lady Michelle Ffoulkes have come to call upon them."
Andrew glanced askance to his sister and stifled a grin. They both knew how improperly they were really behaving, calling on people without first sending notice, dropping their respective duties at home, and so forth. Still, they both knew that the imminent reunion was going to have more sparks than a Roman candle.
Michelle managed (barely) to keep a straight face as her brother announced them to the butler.
Dessau saw Andrew and Michelle into the parlor, then hurried to the library. He opened the library door and said, "Andrew and Michelle Ffoulkes have arrived." Inside he saw Emilie holding a sword on the young lord. "Lady Emilie! What will Lord Blakeney say?
Emilie smiled. "You'll be credited less honor for losing to one. I'll try to be gentle and not hurt you. Of course, you're a stuffed shirt, that coat is very important to you. Ah, I would not waste my love's time with a child like you, my boy" she said, laughing. She looked up as Dessau brought in Andrew and Michelle and ignored his tone. "Milord'll say I have finally learnt to defend myself. Dessau, calm yourself, I am staying the house, I am perfectly safe, I shall have mercy on the boy, if you wish you can lock the door. My fantastic Ffoulkes family, sit down and I shall formally greet you after I teach this little lad a lesson" she said. She handed him her sword politely and took one of her own. "On guard!" she said, as Percy had taught her.
"Ah, Andrew and Michelle! So wonderful to see you! Even if it's under such... interesting circumstances," Hastings took the sword and tested it's weight. "Forgive me, Percy, but the girl quite stuck on it. And please do assure our friends, Andrew and Michelle that I did try to make peace. But as she'll have it no other way... On guard, dear Lady!" He whipped around and faced her, grinning broadly, but assuming a stance of readiness. "You may start when you like."
Emilie was eager to wipe that grin off his sweet face. "If I win, I want you to apologize to Chris when he comes to visit. You will bow low, respectfully commend him for his bravery, praise the French, say it in French and tell him how good of a couple he and I make. You will allow him to kiss me. You will also dress simply for a week, and no riding for that period. You will spend that time learning French. Agreed?" she asked confidently, though Hastings seemed quite comfortable with the blade, almost too easy. Well, she had won every match against Percy.
Percy stood back as if to guard Michelle from these fiendish foes. "I will have to remember never to fight you with a sword again.." He had a bored look plastered on his face after a few minutes, plopping into a nearby chair to watch the fight. "C'mon Em, show old Hastings what he's got, or... hasn't... then we'll see who the better �man� is." then he had to start laughing.
Emilie laughed. "I shall, little nephew, I shall. Michelle, Andrew, sit down and enjoy the show, I promise Hastings will be in one piece when I am done with him" she said sweetly, glad she was wearing a loose skirt.
Michelle and Andrew were quite taken aback by the scene they entered upon in the library. A duel between Lord Hastings and Lady Spencer?! And over... what now? Surely the whole thing must be a jest! Then again, those two had clashed a few good times before, sometimes in fun, other times in all seriousness.
With that in mind, Andrew surreptitiously grasped his sword with his left hand, just in case his right hand needed to unsheathe it. He didn't think that any real harm would befall either of his friends, but he also knew that the strength of Hastings' sense of humor often outstripped his sense of judgment. Just in case, Andrew would be ready for anything.
"Have we come at a bad time?" he asked.
Hastings nodded in consent to Michelle's term. "Very well, my lady!" he said with a laugh. "However what shall I have should I win? My stakes are a kiss, a show of proper decorum - namely addressing me by my proper title unless I give you leave to do otherwise and a proper curtsey when I enter, you must reject any advances by that frenchie suitor, AND you must sing "God Save the King" when he enters. Agreed?"
Emilie's lips curled. The nerve of that insolent puppy! Well, he'd soon be taught a lesson he'd not soon forget. Hastings wanted a kiss? Well, she'd kiss him one with the tip of her blade. A nagging doubt persisted in her mind, if she lost, Hastings would make sure she never forgot it. She shook those doubts out of her head, she was a Blakeney!...well a Spencer. She draw herself to her full height, noting that Hastings was still taller then her and his grin was mocking her efforts. "I agree to your terms, my boy. You should accustom your ears to being called that" she said, tossing her chestnut curls. With that, the duel began. Emilie started by putting herself in a defensive position and trying to strike at Hastings's chest, hoping to make a small tear in the coat. "Take that" she hissed.
Hastings quickly and easily blocked Emilie's blow, moving little more that his wrist. She came at him again, with more force and Hastings easily parried. "Have you had enough. my lady?" Hastings asked in a bored tone.
Emilie tensed, Hastings was better then she expected. "I have not yet begun to fight" she said sharply. She slashed another strike but he parried it. Back and forth, Hastings never attacking, just easily and nonchalantly defending. When she got a chance, she was going to kill Percy for letting her win. She had to think of a weak spot, realizing she was looking like a fool. She'd knock the blade out of his hand, which would end the match. She aimed a blow at his hand.
Hastings took a step back to avoid this last effort, saw that she had lost her balance and used the opportunity to knock her sword out of her hand and onto the floor. He stoop and picked it up quickly, never taking an eye off of her least she hurl some object at him, then stood fully erect one hand told her sword, the other held the one he had used which was pointed at her heart. "I believe I win," Hastings said with a broad smile.
