Messages and letters have been piling on Raoul’s desk throughout the night and continue as dawn breaks over the Faubourg Saint-Germain. He is used to being thus inundated despite the fact that to sort his office’s regular vast correspondence he employs a few competent and trusted secretaries. But this morning he is neither at his … Continue reading Chapter Ninety-Four, House of Richelieu, by Mordaunt
Chapter Seventy-Seven, Gilded Lilly, by Mordaunt
To gild refined gold, to paint the lilyTo throw a perfume on the violetTo smooth the ice, or add another hueUnto the rainbow, or with taper-lightTo seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.(William Shakespeare, King John, Act 4- Scene 2) It has been more than a fortnight since Layla’s encounter … Continue reading Chapter Seventy-Seven, Gilded Lilly, by Mordaunt
Chapter Fifty-One: Vanishing Act in Seven (Easy) Steps, by Mordaunt
Step One: Learn from the best “I assume that you know all,” Aramis begins. “Enough to be abhorred that an innocent man finds himself imprisoned,” Layla replies. “Some might say that he is not an innocent man,” Aramis pushes, although it has been a losing argument; although even he no longer agrees. “He is my … Continue reading Chapter Fifty-One: Vanishing Act in Seven (Easy) Steps, by Mordaunt
Chapter Fifty, The Price of Clarity, by Mordaunt
Faites votre devoir, et laissez faire aux dieux.(Do your duty and leave the rest to Heaven) Pierre Corneille, Horace, Act II, Scene III (1639 Aramis does not stay at Noisy-le-rois as he planned. He rides back to Paris with Louis. “Not to Versailles, no I will not make it easy for you,” Louis pushed, “I … Continue reading Chapter Fifty, The Price of Clarity, by Mordaunt
Chapter Twenty Six-Intentions Unmasked, by Mordaunt
In the crowded, luminous hall outside, the undulating din of laughter, chatter, and tinkling glasses subsides. A melodious voice is singing: Dove ne vai, crudele,E non fuggire,O di mio beneL’aspre mie pene,Che se fai vaga,De la mia pega,Volge tuo squardiCh’al cor son dardi.Torna, torna crudele,E non fuggire. The handsome masked foreigner seated across from Raoul … Continue reading Chapter Twenty Six-Intentions Unmasked, by Mordaunt
Chapter Fifteen-Pandora, by Mordaunt
“Madame is in her salon…” the footman at the door barely has time to speak. M. de Rohan is already running up the stairs two at a time, hat in hand. He flings open the door of Marie Cessette’s private salon, where she sits at her writing desk finishing her daily correspondence. She springs to … Continue reading Chapter Fifteen-Pandora, by Mordaunt
Twelve Years After 