Andrew Ffoulkes spent a fitful night. He wanted to stay by his sister's side all night, but knew that it was best to let his father and Dr. Jacquot attend to her, then let her rest. He himself could hardly sit still. His doting mother tried to get some food in him and reassure her distraught son that Michelle's attack had not been his fault. Andrew, for his part, tried to keep his beloved mother from crying and blaming herself for working her children so hard that they'd flee just to have a little peace. For a long while that night, the two sat in front of the fire holding each other in silent sorrow.
Andrew usually had dreams every night, though he often couldn't remember them in any detail. Ordinarily they were pleasant, but that night, they were most assuredly not. Luckily, when he awoke in the morning, it was one of the times when he could not remember his dreams in any detail. As day broke through Andrew's window, the merciful sun crept across the angel's face and washed the horrors of the dark away.
After washing and dressing, Andrew snuck to Michelle's room, only to find her still asleep. The Ffoulkes ate a very solemn breakfast, trying not to let their guest Tony feel too awkward. After the meal, Andrew asked to speak with his father alone in the study.
"Dearest Father," he began, "although my heart aches to stay with Michelle all day and keep her company, I ask that I be allowed to go into town and coordinate with the police an effort to discover and capture the knave responsible for Michelle's attack. As much as you know how I want to hunt down this beast and skin him alive myself, noble though we are, even we are not above the law."
Sir Matthew looked at his son. He knew his son may have preferred a beating, but believed that a better lesson could be learned from an... alternative punishment. "I spent last night considering what would be a suitable punishment for your actions. I do not believe that you are completely at fault for what happened, but you and your sister did leave the house without permission yesterday. As a result, you are not allowed to leave this house until Michelle is ready to do the same. You will be in charge of helping her to heal as well as doing for her whatever she or Docteur Jacquot requests of you, and you must not tell your sister that you are doing so under strict orders from me. Lord Blakeney and I will do what must be done about tracking down and punishing the person who commit this crime, but for now you have other duties." Sir Matthew looked down at his son, keeping his voice even and not yelling. "Is that quite clear, Andrew?"
Andrew's heart dropped when he heard his father's decree. Unable to leave the house? How could he find and punish the fiend who'd hurt their precious Michelle?! It wasn't fair, blast it! It wasn't fair! But still, Andrew was only a teenager, and his father a grown man. He knew better, Andrew tried to assure himself.
For a moment, young Ffoulkes thought of arguing with his father, but he knew such an effort would be futile. "Yes, Father," he answered. "Your orders are quite clear. I will attend to my duties as you have stated them." Looking into his elder's eyes, Andrew knew his father understood how hard accepting such conditions were, and he appreciated that fact. Things would work out, all the same. Andrew would find a way of getting what he wanted.
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Michelle woke up, at first thinking that the previous day's events were just a nightmare. When she first tried to move, however, she knew that they were real. Oh, she hurt! She looked around her room, and realized she was alone. Alone. She'd been alone... "Andrew? Father?" she whispered. "Mother?" Then, more panicked, "ANDREW? FATHER!" and tears started running down her face. She only knew one thing: she couldn't be alone! She'd been alone before, and she hurt. "MOTHER! ANDREW! FATHER!" She struggled out of her bed and fell on the floor. She was frightened, she needed protection. Andrew and Father had told her they'd protect her! Where were they? She crawled over to the door, where she pulled herself up. She didn't even grab her dressing gown as she slid out of the door. "FATHER!" she cried in fright.
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Head down, he turned and left the study. As he headed to the stairs, he heard Michelle calling his name. He flew down the hall, only to find his disoriented sister in a heap at the top of the stairway. "Michelle!" he called as he brushed past Percy and Tony.
He took his sister into his arms and carried her back to her room. "It's all right, dear sister," he said in a soothing tone. "You're safe. We didn't want to disturb your sleep. Don't cry. You're safe."
As Andrew placed Michelle back onto her bed and wrapped a cover around her, his mind churned. He'd promised his father he'd take care of Michelle, but he'd also made an oath to Michelle that he would avenge her. How could he satisfy both and still retain his honor? He was planning a way, but implementing it might be tricky. Still, it would be worth the risk to fulfill his pledges, and quite possibly to save other young maidens from experiencing the horrors Michelle and Emilie had endured.
Michelle cried as her brother carried her. "I don't want to be alone!" she sobbed. "I was alone then, and--oh Andrew!" She put her arms around him as he carried her and set her in bed. As he laid her in bed, her eyes closed once again, feeling safe knowing that somebody was watching over her.
Andrew sat up with Michelle for a while, letting her cry into his shoulder. He knew that she shouldn't be left alone right now, but he hoped she would understand.
"Michelle," he whispered, "I will do for you whatever you ask. I am yours to command." He smiled at her, thinking to himself what a bad person he was about to be. "Do you know what I was just thinking? Do you remember the sweets shop in Calais? The one with all the delicate French pastries, and candies, and such that we just can't seem to find in England?"
Michelle nodded and smiled, making a cute "mmm" sound. "I remember that your favorites are those mint truffles, right? Well, I'd like to treat you to a whole box of them!" Andrew started feeling really bad. He was afraid this was going to happen. He was good at talking his way out of sticky situations; he could name a few good times with Percy, Edward, and Tony that were gems. But this time, he was manipulating his own sister. It was already eating away at him.
"You deserve the best, especially after all you've been through." Andrew took a deep breath and steeled himself. He began innocently, "If you want me to, I can go to town right now and get you... as many..." The forced smile was beginning to crack, and Andrew found himself looking down and away.
"Okay," Michelle murmured. "Just don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone anymore." She sleepily opened her eyes and looked up at him admiringly. She trusted him completely. He was her elder brother and would always protect her.
"Just don't leave me alone," Michelle said softly. That dashed several of Andrew's hopes of escaping the house without a scratch. Blast! How could he get her to order him away if she didn't want to be alone? He couldn't very well drag her around the countryside while searching for the assailant. Blast!
Trying not to look at Michelle, who was watching him reverently through half-closed eyes, Andrew tried to stall for time and think on his feet. "You'll never be alone, Michelle. Mother, Father, and I will always be with you. If not in body, then most certainly in spirit."
He paused trying to think of a way of satisfying everyone, his sister, his father, and himself. Suddenly, he then thought back to the distressing conversation he'd had with Percy... at the time Michelle was being attacked. Ffoulkes was starting to see how years of suffering the burdens he was now facing could drive his dear friend to contemplate such an ignoble act. He said a silent prayer begging God to deliver him from treading any farther down that path of impotence and despair. He'd have to have another, more considered conversation with Percy.
Andrew gulped, and summoned the strength to look over once more to his beloved sister. "Sweet, Michelle," he began, "I must confess something to you of which I am not wholly proud." Michelle cocked her head in puzzlement. "Father once gave me some good advice, which I gave dear Percy just yesterday, and now I find that I need to take it myself.
"I cannot please all people in all ways, no matter how hard I try." He was finding it difficult to continue, but he knew he must. "You see, Michelle, I want to do everything I can to take care of you. And, although staying by your side will help you rest easy, another way to ease your fears is to go out there and capture the monster who did this to you, and to Em, and who knows how many other innocent maidens.
"I'm torn between two paths, both of which are right. Would God grant me the power, I could take them both. But I cannot. I need to find and stop the evil fiend who did this. I don't want to leave you, you must believe me, especially after what happened the last time I let you go from my sight, but..."
Andrew's breathing was becoming labored, and he found himself looking away again. But he turned back once more. He would not tell lies nor keep secrets from his sister. "I need to go, Michelle. I need to do this. For you... and for myself." Andrew stared into his weakened sister's eyes with profound earnest. The ball was in her court now, as it were. He prayed she would understand.
Michelle gave a tired nod. "Just leave somebody here with me, Andrew? Anybody? I don't mind if you leave, just don't leave without somebody by me." Her eyes closed again and her hand brushed his. "Be careful, Andrew," she murmured. "He frightens me."
"I will be careful," Andrew said softly as he leaned over and kissed his sister on the top of her head. "And thank you, for everything." He knew he'd be in huge trouble for this, but he felt better knowing that Michelle understood.
"If anyone asks where I am, would you please tell them I've just gone to run an errand for you? I will get you those chocolates, mind you!" Andrew said with a smile. "And don't fret. I won't leave straight away. I'll stay up with you for a while. Take your mind off all this insanity." Looking around at the half-unpacked items in the room, Andrew got up and fished around in one of the trunks. "Here it is!" Smiling, he brought over a book and pulled up the chair next to Michelle's bed.
"Do you remember these?" he asked, showing her the book of fairy tales. He knew it was a bit childish; Michelle was becoming a woman fast, after all. But he felt that an old, familiar story would reassure his sister in this world-gone-mad.
Michelle listened contentedly, falling asleep just as the fairy princess and her prince lived happily ever after. Andrew then quietly crept from the room, and went to find his mother. He told her Michelle was sleeping again, and said that she'd asked for her to be there in case she awoke. It wasn't exactly a lie. Michelle had called out for her mother when she was disoriented. Plus, she did say she didn't want to be left alone.
Lady Ffoulkes gladly collected her embroidery, and went upstairs to work on it in her beloved daughter's room. Andrew took a deep breath, preparing to pull off the dangerous stunt of sneaking out without his father's notice. Much to his surprise, and relief, he found the carriage gone and the stable empty of servants.
Mounting the swiftest horse, Ffoulkes rode to Calais like the wind. He knew he didn't need to be in a rush, though. His father would find out about it whether he returned home first or not. He'd see the back of his father's hand over this for sure. Sir Ffoulkes did not punish his children with beatings often, but, when he did, they were warranted and relentless.
The first place Ffoulkes went upon arriving in Calais was to the sweets shop. He'd promised Michelle her special treat, and she most assuredly deserved it. Andrew ordered not only a box of a dozen mint truffles, but also another dozen of assorted chocolates. As he waited for the clerk, two commoners entered the shop.
"You missed a wonderful show, Fran�ois!" one of them blurted out. "Those criminals sure got a pounding!"
Andrew's ears perked up. "Pardon me, but to what criminals are you referring?"
The second man answered, "Those two men and the girl, the tailors. Accused of aiding and hiding a vicious attacker, monsieur. Prays on unsuspecting women, he does."
Andrew almost couldn't believe it! The fiend had been found out already! What spectacular news! "Who, may I ask, is the monster responsible? What did the police do with him?"
"Well, monsieur, they didn't catch the one who actually beat the women, but that big, overbearing, tea-drinking lord sure took his temper out on-" The first man jabbed his companion in the ribs in chagrin, seeing as how they were speaking to an Englishman.
"Did you say the tailor was responsible?" the clerk asked. "Surely M. Planchette would never do such dastardly things!"
"No," said the first man. "It was his delivery boy, Andre. You know, the circus run-away."
"Andre?" Andrew blurted out. How could that be? He was the one who mercifully saved Percy. Such a noble youth could surely not have been the monster which attacked Michelle. He needed to find out the truth behind all this. "Pardon me once more, but where are the tailor and his associates now? In the jail?"
"No, monsieur," said the first man. "Compte Lovell freed them. By the way, Jean, I owe you nothing. We will never know how long the younger man would have lasted under the whip now."
As the two commoners began to bicker over their wager, Andrew collected his boxes of sweets, paid the clerk, adding on a sizeable tip, and asked, "What is the fastest way from here to the tailor's shop?" The happy man told him, thanking the young Englishman for his generosity, and watched as he dashed out.
It was no time at all before Andrew arrived at Planchette's shop. Even still, he had enough time to wonder about the "tea-drinking lord" with a temper and the compte. Surely the man meant the elder Lovell; the younger wouldn't have the heart nor the nobility to free innocents from a beating. As Andrew dismounted, he noticed that it was closed. "Hello? Halo?" he called, knocking on the front door. "I say, is anyone in?"
Planchette and Henri had been aiding each other in dressing the other's wounds, when they heard a rapping on the door on the ground floor. Planchette motion his assistant to stay put, then pulled on a shirt and proceeded painfully down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs he saw through the window a young man outside the Shoppe. A curious site indeed, obviously a foreigner, obviously a young milor, and obviously unaware of the day�s events else why would he be here? Planchette attempted to make himself presentable without inflicting any further agony on himself. When he finished he ambled to the door, unlocked and opened it. "I beg your pardon, milor, but we are closed for the day. Perhaps you would like to come again later?"
Andrew could hear the pain in the man's voice as he spoke. Maybe rushing right over after the tailor had suffered a public beating was not such a good idea. But, he was there and he needed answers.
"Bon jour, monsieur. I am truly sorry to bother you," Ffoulkes began, "truly I am. I know that there has been much misfortune put upon you and your associates, but I would like to help in any way that I can."
Andrew bowed, speaking in his most respectful tones, "Allow me to introduce myself, sir. I am Andrew Ffoulkes, brother of Michelle Ffoulkes and friend of Emilie Spencer, two of the maidens who were attacked in recent days. It came to my attention that the tailor, M. Planchette, and his associates were accused and punished for aiding the criminal responsible. However, I also heard that the accused is one Andre who works for the tailor.
"I know that I am not personally acquainted with the boy, but I have heard nothing but good and noble things about him from my friends, and cannot believe that such a good soul could be responsible." Andrew made sure to not mention his knowledge of Percy's encounter with Andre.
"I realize that it is not my place to interfere with your lives, sir, and I will understand if you send me away, but I have vowed to my beloved sister to seek out this fiend and bring him to justice. If there is anything I can do for you or your friends, or to help find the real attacker, please, monsieur, just say the words."
Planchette beckoned Andrew inside. "Come in, come in, milor! My most humble condolences on your sister! How is she? Pray tell who found her? Laurel was most upset to return and find her missing, she was worried that the attacker returned!"
"Thank you, sir," Andrew said gratefully as Planchette showed him in. "Pardon, sir? Laurel found...? Oh, but of course. You see, sir, my dearest sister, Michelle, was the *third* maiden to be attacked. I had heard that another woman had been found at the side of a road, then went missing. That must be who your friend Laurel found. Of course, I heard that news from one Cristof Lovell."
Andrew paused, not sure if he should speak his mind here or not. He wagered, though, that truth is usually better than secrecy. "I realize that he is a vicompte, but, if you don't mind my saying so, sir, I'm not certain I quite trust what that man says. If I may ask, sir, might you elucidate me on all you know of the recent events here in and around Calais? I am eager to find the one responsible for hurting my sister, just as I'm sure you're anxious to clear you colleague Andre's good name."
"Then you've got a good instinct, milor," Planchette said in uncharacteristic display of contempt. "I can tell you what I know, but most of my knowledge has come from my assistant Laurel and from dear Andre. But I say? Did you say three? I was under the impression that there was only two. His lordship said as much."
Andrew began to explain to Planchette about all he knew, when the kindly tailor beckoned him upstairs so that all three men might pool their knowledge. Andrew felt a distinct pang of empathy and anger when he saw the state of Henri. Thank Heaven the beating was cut short, else the ruffians in the sweets shop might have had the opportunity to settle their gruesome bet.
The young baronet helped the two treat their wounds as they talked.
