Blogs

IV

My brothers note still lingered in my mind how dare he is all I could think. I paced the room, my eyes focused on the flickering flames of the fire. Lady Stewart was behind me, in a rare moment of being selfless, she continued, trying to pacify me. She reminded me, that despite he was accepted by society, my brother was not accepted by court. The now proclaimed legitimate son of an Earl and actressthats what he isand will remain. I paced around her room, the lady was seated gracefully on the couch, she looked at me, not words were spoken, but her eyes said it all he could never become heir.

She continued, in a words that amazed me you never do act like the heir though I looked over; eyes narrowed again how do you mean? I question. Youve been on the island so far, three months? Have you visited the court of Naples? Have you made arrangements to meet your fathers business partners? Have you collected anything to take home? I lowered my eyes, falling into a chair, followed by a deep sigh I suppose I ought to more. She responded in her typical ways ought to do more is an understatement. Need I remind you, you are the heir of the Earls of Rushcliffe. I responded stupidly to her, I know that. To that, she simply said act like it. In that moment, I realized she, and others were right. Here, at a moment of questioning, I was letting my temper get the better of me, I sat, nay; I slouched in a chair, hardly dressed as a gentleman. I looked nothing more than a bloke off the street. In contrast, Lady Stewart was elegantly seated, back straightened, head held up high, accessories and dressed, ready to receive kings.

It was then I decided, I must become what was intended, and act the way I should. I leaned up, and fixed my posture, and looked over, very well, I shall. She seemed pleased about it, and went off in her normal blabber, finery and dresses for Versailles. I interrupted her in the middle with the simple words I will not attend court. I could have sworn her jaw would fall off. But why?? An Invitation too Versailles?? At the Hand of a Duchess, are you stupid? No I responded, confidently Im intelligent, and know my boundaries. I have no place there, shall I be scorned by the French? Will I waste a fortune on outfits I shall hardly wear again? I got up from the chair, and walked over to the window, gazing out across the Villas lawn. The Obelisk looked like a giant sundial, telling the time with its shadow. But its VersaillesI cut her off its the court of the French, and I belong to the court of the English. I will not talk more about it. With a rustling of silks, I could hear that she got up, taking steps towards me what about the duchess?I quietly remarked Im not as interested as she may be. I turned to face her, her face in awe. I smiled at her and said As Heir, I need to see to my fathers business and bit her good day, closing the door to her apartments as I left. It was time I got to know my fathers associates.

Dowager Princesse d'Angoumois Versailles, November 10th 1773

Dearest Madame,

Oh Mama! The wedding, the splendor! Oh you would have loved to see everyone done up in their finest again. I managed to get the most wonderful habit made just in time for the Royal wedding, you would love the look of it, finest silks and laces and in a brilliant tangerine color. I would not say so aloud to anyone else Mama, but you of all people would understand this sentiment, I looked positively good enough to eat! Oh my dearest mother you should have seen the chapel, all done up in finespectacle As you can Imagine everyone who's anyone was in attendance, Even du Barry went to great lengths to impress, though I'd imagine because she hoped to give the King some ideas of making her a marriage bed.

Today means to be a terribly full one, with the formalIntroductions to Madame la Comtesse d'Artois and following that the ball! I may or may not have feet left to stand upon by the end of this. And Mama! I'm sure Henri has already written with the news, but the date for hisnuptialshas been announced! It shall be a grand event I'm sure, I do so hope you'll manage to make it to Court for at least this, your son's wedding? I'm sending my deepest love, devotion, and prayers for you mother, I miss you terribly. I promise a longer letter when time allows, for now my maid isholleringabout wigs and I must run or I'll miss the Introductions!

Ever your faithful daughter,

Marie-Jocelyn de Saint Cyr

Not everyone in the Kingdom of Naples was equally fond of their Austrian-born Queen Maria-Carolina. Some, in fact, downright loathed the woman. But even those who disliked her would grudgingly admit that she worked very hard running the kingdom.

You see, her husband, King Ferdinand, was not terribly enthused about anything more intellectually demanding than deciding which horse to ride on that days hunt. So it fell to Her Majesty and the Englishman Sir John Acton -- who functioned essentially as her prime minister -- to carry out the administration of the lands that included most of southern Italy.

In essence, while the King cheerfully went about his days activities of hunting and acquiring new antiquities for his collections, the real power in the Kingdom was exercised by the Queen and her favorite -- Sir John Acton -- from her study in the Royal Palace in Naples.

On this particular day, Sir John was presenting a series of documents for Maria Carolinas consideration, most of which were dealing with relatively routine matters. Finally, he came to something that was a bit out of the ordinary.

Your Majesty?

The Queen looked up from the silk factory plans she was studying.

Yes, Sir John?

Sadly, it is time to do something about that island.

The Queen sighed and put down the silk factory plans.

Ah, yes. Prince Elswitt still has not been found, I take it?

No, Your Majesty, he has not. And although there is no body or other remains that have been identified, it has now been over two years. The conclusion is that the unfortunate gentleman perished at the hands of the natives in California.

There are no legal heirs?

No, Your Majesty. The Princess was estranged from Prince Elswitt long before he left for New Spain, and he had specifically made arrangements that she could not inherit the principality under the provisions of his will. Likewise, both of his sons were induced to renounce any hereditary rights in return for financial security. And at any rate, the elder son is unlikely to survive very long due to the multiple and advanced forms of

The Queen was looking at her favorite minster with an arched eyebrow. He coughed and then continued.

...theumsocial diseases he has contracted.

Maria Carolina frowned.

This is all very unusual. How did things come to this state of affairs?

"It is, replied Sir John, a very long story.

Then spare me, answered the Queen dryly.

She looked thoughtful for a moment and then went on.

It is a tragedy, certainly. Prince Elswitt was a brilliant, if thoroughly unconventional sort of gentleman. He and I shared some viewpoints about social and scientific matters, and we hada few other things in common as well. I had the pleasure to meet and speak with him a few times, but I do regret that I shall not have another chance to do soin this world, at least.

Sir John nodded. He was very aware that both the Prince of Melioria and the Queen were involved with Freemasonry. The Queens interest in the Freemasons had been a key aspect of the differences that led to the downfall of the once powerful prime minister of the kingdom, Bernardo Tanucci. Well differences over Freemasonry and Tanuccis close ties to the Spanish court and Spanish policies. Removing him had made it possible for The Kingdom of Naples to have much closer relations with both Austria and Great Britain.

So what is to be done? asked the Queen. "The title is extinguished with the Princes death, and the island reverts to the Kingdom, I believe?

Exactly, Your Majesty.

Very well, then. If you will draw up the necessary documents

Sir John smiled slightly as he slid some papers in front of the Queen.

I have taken the liberty of doing so.

The Queen was not displeased. This was part of why Sir John Acton was her favorite. He was efficient; he didnt dither and he didnt waste her time. As she looked at the papers she furrowed her brow.

The name of the place is different in these papersRocca Sorrentina?

Yes, Your Majesty. Melioria was a name applied to the principality by the Elswitts. Its traditional name is Rocca Sorrentina. In fact it is still identified as such on navigational charts. It would avoid confusion

Maria Carolina shrugged slightly and began signing the various decrees. When she had finished, the Principality of Melioria no longer existed. The Island of Rocca Sorrentina would now be administered directly by a Royal governor, appointed by the privy council in Naples.

As the secretary sprinkled sand on the Queens signature to dry the ink and prevent smearing, and Sir John shuffled his various papers, the Queen suddenly spoke.

Any ideas on who should be Governor?

Oh I have a list for you to consider. But unless Your Majesty is inclined to be finished with the matter, I think there is no rush. The island has been very capably administered by a council of regents since the Prince disappeared, and it would be perfectly sensible to appoint those regents as the new council of local magistrates to work with the Governor. It is my considered opinion that they would do very well in the role.

The Queen smiled an odd little smile.

Something tells me you already know these peopleor at least some of them?

Sir Johns expression did not change.

In fact, Your Majesty I do indeed. One of the council of regents is Sir Geoffrey Edwardstone, whom I know very well through various business and social contacts.

Another Englishman, eh?

Yesbut more importantly he is a banker, working with a certain financial association which has its headquarters in the Netherlands, as well as affiliates in London, Milan and ViennaSir Geoffrey was, in fact, appointed to this council by the Princes bankers, who had the responsiblity to see that the conditions of the will were carried out.

The Queen nodded. She knew exactly which banking group Sir John was speaking about. Nothing more needed to be said. This Sir Geoffrey Edwardstone was involved with people who were not to be trifled with. If they ultimately had a hand in shaping the situation, it was best to leave their representative in place until they decided it was time to move him to other projects.

Who else is on this council of regents? asked the Queen.

"Besides the knighted banker, Sir Geoffrey, there is his niece, a Miss Timelessalso English, of course, and possessed of a very independent frame of mind.

Ah, the Queen arched an eyebrow, a bluestocking?

Not at all, Your Majesty. Miss Timeless is much more gifted in terms of fashion sense and taste than your average over-educated English Lady. But yes, she is very well-read...with an interest and some skill in architecture and viticulture.

Interesting. And are there others with whom Our governor must contend?

Well, yes...there is a woman who is a bit of a mystery an artist of considerable talentwe dont know much about her, but she has a French nameshe may be a refugee from the former colonies of New France, judging by her accent. And there are two widowed ladies, from minor German nobility. One is a rather exceptional fencer and provides instruction in that skill. The other is a Baroness whose husband was a cavalry officer in Prussian servicewon the Pour leMerite and all thatshe travels a good bit and as best as my informants can tell, is probably an intelligence agent working for the Hohenzollerns. Then there is a former Jesuit and law professor from Torino, with a past history of working in the diplomatic services of Austria and the Kingdom of Sardinia-Piedmontwe think that he may still have some activities he carries out on behalf of the House of Savoy...Oh, and there is Prince Elswitts half-sister.rather quiet, but possessed of a very good head for business, it seems.

Maria Carolina, Queen of Naples and sister of Marie Antoinette sat stonily looking at Sir John Acton as he rattled off this cosmopolitan list of oddities. Even when he had finished speaking, she continued sitting there, gazing at him for a few silent moments, her exquisite face a sort of blank mask.

Finally, she spoke in a flat tone.

Very well. Sounds like a perfectly normal group under the circumstances. Please convey to them Our greetings and request that they remain in service as the council of local magistrates for the Island of Rocca Sorrentina.

As you wish, Your Majesty. I shall attend to the matter at once.

Sir John stood and bowed, and then withdrew. The Queen thought about Prince Elswitt once more, sighed again, and rubbed her eyes. The world, she reflected, is a strange and forever changing place.

~

The Noblesse d'pe grand House de Saint-Cyr has stood as one of the premiere families in France through their dedicated military history and devotion to King and crown. Tracing their history back to the beginning is a task indeed, but the family proudly holds claim to it's beginnings as an off shoot from the House of vreux, through the notable William Taillefer I known as William d'Angoulme. It is said among the Saint-Cyr that through the marriage of the d'Angouleme and the Evreaux the Saint-Cyr's were born. Historically holding land and titles in the Saintonge region of France the duchys and lands famous for their production of grapes used to make cognac and Pineau de Charentes. The Family is known most famously for raising the Saintonge Regiment (also known as the 85e Regiment of the Line) that furthers the crowns motives in the West Indies and French Guiana. It is under their motto:"Ils s'instruisent pour vaincre" that many of the most notable Saint-Cyr men have both served and held rank within this regiment. The duchy of Montausier is by far the most ancient and traditional lands held by the family and today the Ducal seat of the Saint-Cyr house. In 1696, the Duc de Montausier Henri-Charles de Saint-Cyr died suddenly, leaving the duchy in the hands of his brother Leonard Charles de Saint-Cyr, Marquis de Montausier, his daughter however had been married to the then Prince; Fonteneau Alfonse dAngouleme. The title of Prince d'Angoumois was titres de courtoisie for her cousin Nicolas-Philippe de Saint-Cyr following her death of dropsy not long after tragedy took her husband and newborn. Angouleme is now primarily split between the house of Bourbon and Saint-Cyrs. Though looked upon as simply titled and not ranked, within the Saint-Cyr's they treat the title as Prince tranger for their long standing ties to many of the royal houses by marriage and those they claim from history.

Stoic and unflappable are common traits of those within the Saint-Cyr family, braving all manner of military and social battles with a calm and focused demeanor. Devout Catholics, the Saint Cyr family has become quite the patrons of the church, often spending lavishly to restore and revive forgotten religious buildings, relics and furthering the work of the Holy Mother church within France and abroad. One of the most favoured of the familys holdings is the abbey of Saint-Etienne Baignes which was built in the time of Charlemagne and restored to its glory by the family.

No family is without dark times however, and as it would happen it wasn't so far back in history to be forgotten easily. Early in 1660 when Maria Theresa was just assuming her place at court as the Queen consort of France and Navarre, a simple rumor started that none other than the sister of the Duc the Mlle de Montausier; Jeanne-Marie de Saint Cyr was the first of the King's many Mistresses. Truth or not, the very fact that the majority of court believed the mlle to be the first of the madame's before Louise de La Vallire ruined the family in court. With the Queen turning her favor from the family drastic measures were taken in the summer of 1662. The Mlle in question was sent away to the nuns at Saint-Etienne to serve God as penance for the ruin upon the family. It was later said that the rumor was started by a rival at court who was envious. It was later found that her brother had been in negotiations to marry her to a well respected man of the Bourbon house, an alliance that would have tied the Saint-Cyrs to the Royal house. This second blow to the family was deeply felt and took a generation to recover from. To this day, Mlle's of the house of Saint-Cyr are strictly chaperoned and watched over at court to prevent future issue. The late Jeanne-Marie de Saint-Cyr was not removed from the family records, but is also not spoken of unless it is in warning to misspent youth. As it would have it the family would have to rethink the choices of chaparones when in early 1682 the young Mlle de Barfleur was found to be with child, and not any child the bourgeois child of her chaparone's son! Again plunged into social scandal the family was saved when the young mlle passed away in childbirth, what became of the child however is not noted nor spoken of. Rumors persist to this day that the child was given to the father's family and raised a Le Moine with a very large stipend of sous to keep him in comfort for his lifetime and that of his children.

Recovery from such scandal could to some seem impossible, but it was through the union of Jeanne-Elisabeth de la Chapelle to the Marquis de Montausier in 1719 that shot the family back into the forefront of nobility. While some would say her beginnings were just shy of bourgeois the youngest daughter of the Baron de Longueuil and sister to the wife of then aged governor of Acadia and New France Simon-Pierre Denys de Bonaventure. Her dowry alone was rumored to rival that of some royal matches in Europe, many saying the Baron afforded the Saint-Cyr's lands and estates in New France along with ships of wealth. The union was beyond simply profitable for the Saint-Cyr's, affording them wealth, and eventually the next generations of Nobility as she gave her husband five healthy children including a Prince, a Duc, Duchesse, and two Comtesse's. Initially not accepted in court because of her questionable status with the elite of french nobility, she was appointed to the Queen's household and there began a rich and successful career as a courtier. Her natural grace, and seemingly unending wealth allowed her to bring the family up even higher in the eyes france. A devoted friend and alley of the Queen Marie Leczinska, she served her Mistress loyally until her death in 1768. Between the death of her Queen and her son that same year, the Dowager Marquise retreated from court. The infamous Dowager Marquise de Montausier, to this day resides at the family estates, and while she's taken her leave of courtly life in her twilight years, commands the respect and love of her grandchildren now making debut in Versailles.

Recent devastation to the house of Saint-Cyr was the tragic loss of Nicolas-Philippe de Saint-Cyr, Prince d'Angoumois, in the fall of 1769. A man in his prime, a devoted subject of his Majesty and Master in the Regimental Forces, the Prince was out on sojourn at one of his estates and took fall while hunting. Normally not a cause to fear meeting one's Maker, it happened that in that tragic fall he broke his femur, and the resulting infection took his life in a matter of weeks. A grueling, painful, and sad death for such a stoic and noble man, one that touched everyone in the family greatly, especially so soon after his brother's death the year before. The end of the Marquis de Saint-Cyr however was nothing so dramatic however, he simply succumbed to a weak heart while recovering from a bout of scurvy. An illness he contracted on his return from visiting the regiments in the West Indies.

A wave of prosperity seems to be rolling through the house de Saint-Cyr of late, with the now Prince d'Angoumois announcing his intentions to marry the court favorite Mlle de Bidache from the Gramont family. This firmly ties the family to their allies in the Duc and Duchesse de Fraisac who have been instrumental in setting the match. To that appointments of all the major members at court in the various houses of the Royal house from the Dauphin (( ADD Dauphine if that goes through)) to the Comtesse de Provence.

Dowager Princesse d'Angoumois Versailles, November 10th 1773

Dearest Madame,

I would like to first thank you dearest mother for you kind letter Ireceivedlast week, as always yourcorrespondencebrought joy and happiness to my day. I pray this letter in turn finds you in good spirits and health and sure in the knowledge that as ever you are first in the minds of your children away at court. I was so glad to hear from Henri that his visit with you went swimmingly and I must admit I blushed for your kind words passed along.

I cannot describe to you, my dear mamma, the trouble that winds through his majesty's court of late. I am positively sick with worry for the fate of my dearest brother's marriage. It would seem all you warned me of with regards to choosing my allies well was well founded advice. Oh how I wish you were here, your years of experience within her late Majesties household would be a boon to me now more than ever. The Duc and Duchesse have been expelled from their household positions, and worse still court itself! Of course none of us can be too surprised that punishment comes down from his Majesty, a fool thing like a duel, but how unfortunate to all close to the Tancarville family! Mamma you must write me and give your comfort and direction on this matter, I fear I'm lost as to how to best proceed. They are yet the Duc and Duchesse and so as they retain title I'm quite sure they will again find favor at court. But shall I as others give in to snubbing them and their house? Or is it better to be forgiving or even yet more silent on the matter? How I wish I had someone to speak to of these matters at length. I find myself ever sodisappointedby Gabrielle, she has once more retreated to the chapel at d'Ivoire, refusing to attend court with me. Henri, bless him, does his best to escort me, and when he can not insures as per your request I amadequatelychaperoned. (Not that I would ever find myself compromised of course.)

I do have some good news in the wake of all this mess, I have had heard whispers there may be a wonderful announcement made this week! Between this and the coming Royal Wedding I nearly float upon the joy that fills my life. I have made sure to attend my prayers as you wished, twice a week to the chapel in the least, and I pray constantly for the good favor of our family and your health. I ask you to continue to light candles for Madame Royale, whom as you know is still unwell, I shall keep youapprisedof her condition as I know it worries you to hear of her in such a condition. At last we were told, it was confirmed that she has taken ill with the pox, and having seen it myself I do not doubt it. I pray God will keep her through this and she will recover in short order.

May the arrival of this short letter bring you happiness, My wishes of health, blessings and prayers for you my dearest mother,

Ever your faithful daughter,

Marie-Jocelyn de Saint Cyr

(( I decided to start writing again about my experiences at court, this time to my mother, hope you enjoy!! This is for the purposes ofcharacterdevelopment only and not to be referenced in RP unless you catch me by chance writing :P ))

He sat and mulled over the meeting with his wife's family friend, Monsieur le Stern and the suggestions of trade with Meloria. Perhaps this trip would become more lucrative for him than he first thought. Henri-Armand smiled to himself, retreating to his office to gather up a few papers. He would have to ride hard in order to make the return trip in time to leave with his wife, but this would be well worth it for him. He stuffed several stacks into a leather wallet, closing it up and stuffing it into a leather shoulder bag. A pause to grab his sturdy wool coat and he hurried down the stairs to the stable to gather up his best horse. The groom had the bay gelding ready and he moved to get into the saddle. "Have the coach ready by six the day after next, I will be back tomorrow night late, so stay up and meet me here." The groom nods as Henri-Armand turns the horse and gives him a sharp kick to the ribs, setting off at a good pace down the lane and into the road... the day was only beginning for him.

It had been a very busy morning at the harbor in Melioria: the courier ship from Gibraltar had arrived with packets of newspapers and letters from England and America; there was the largeVenetian merchantman that had anchored just yesterday, but which had finished unloading its cargo by sunrise; and then there was the unexpected arrival of the Neapolitan customs officers.

The presence of the tax collectors from Napoli was aninfrequentoccurrence and when it happened, nothing seemed tochangeof the surface of life and activity in the island port. But underneath that calm charade of "business as usual" there was a level of tension that was onlydiscerniblein the way that the sailors and villagers were a bit too relaxed, their smiles a bit tighter, their causal songs and banter a bit louder and more cheerful than one was used to....but you had to be aresident, or aregular and particularly observant observerin order to perceive it.

Thecustomsofficers who served the Kng of Naples were neitherregularsnor particularly observant. Still, the Professore had thought it prudent to misdirect them after theirinitiallook around, to send them back off to themainland,chasing rumors of Corsican smugglers at work. As he and Achille the tavern keeper watched the officials in their cutter disappear around the northern point of the island, they smiled and waved...and Achille shot a knowing sideways glance at Don Aldo.

"Padrone, you are like the conjurer in a street show, catching the attention of the audience with one hand, while you make the cards disappear, or the rabbit to come out of your hat with the other..."

Don Aldo's expression did not change. "It is merely, more often then not, simply a matter letting people see what they expect to see. Come, let us go take a look at what sort of rabbit has come out of the hat."

They walked unhurriedly over to the old Fortress, which had its doors locked. This was somewhat unusual, in and ofitself, but the customs officials would not have known that. The Professore took a mammoth brass key from his waistcoat pocket and unlocked the stout oaken doors. Inside,in thedim coolnessof thefortification, was the cargo that had been delivered from the Veneitanship: three very large and obviously new long 24-pounder cannon barrels, laid out neatly onheavybeams to keep them up off the floor. The bronze of the pieces was smooth and polished, and shone dully in the dim light that filtered down from the upper embrasures. Though unmarked, the tubes were clearly of venetian design and manufacture, and they were immense, utterly dwarfing the two old six-pounder barrels that lay nearby.

Achille muttered something marginally profane, indicating the degree to which he was impressed by the newly delivered artillery.

"So this is what was offloaded from the Venetian?" he asked.

Don Aldo nodded. "Si. They were listed on the cargo manifest as "bronze statues."

"Ah, I see. Very clever. But it has only been a little over a week since the Conte promised you the delivery of these 'statues'...how could he have got them made and here so quickly from the foundry in Venezia?"

"I think he didn't," replied the Professore. I suspect these were in transit for another destination, and the Conte Foscari had them re-routed to be delivered here instead. I imagine the original intended buyer is simply being given some kind of plausible explanation -- an accident or customs troubles -- that will delay the arrival of the delivery. In fact, this is only half of the battery of six guns I requested from the Conte. It is likely the other three will take much longer."

"Achille looked thoughtful. "No one does something this extravagant just for the sheer joy of it, Professore...why do you suppose the Conte went to this extraordinary effort on your behalf?"

The Don smiled slightly and arched an eyebrow. "Probably a number of reasons...a good faith gesture...and a form of thanks for the service I provided to him in obtaining intelligence he required...and perhaps as an attempt to impress us..."

"Well, Padrone," laughed the tavern keeper, "if that was his intent, he certainly succeeded with Achille!"

The Professore smiled slightly and added in a quiet voice, "I will confess that I am impressed as well, my friend. Now go, find Miguel and tell him that we need to move these to the storage chamber under Templars' Hall tonight."

"Si, Padrone."

As Achille Giglio was leaving, Don Alphonzo, the assistente custode of the accademia, came in. Without even glancing at the huge artillery barrels on the floor, he nodded his head in a terse gesture of respect to Don Aldo, who responded with a slighter, even more subtle version of the same nod.

"Buongiorno, Professore," announced the older man.

Buongiorno, Assistente Custode," responded Don Aldo. "Was there something of interest in the mails from the Gibraltar courier ship?

"Si, Professore, " the old man replied. "A few messages for you from various members of the Company -- I have locked them in your desk. And there were some letters for la Baronessa from the Americas. From her brother who lives and trades among the natives I suspect. As is customary, I have sent them to be placed unopened on the desk in her rooms at the Villa. And one letter also has come for the young Signor Gandt, from his family in England, as far as I can determine. They obviously still labor under the misapprehension that the young man is present here on the island and not up north in the Serene Republic."

"Si, my good Assistene Custode, I believe that to be the case."

"Shall I proceed in the usual manner, Professore?"

labeled

The night was closing in, enveloping the grounds in shadows as she had a final glance through the window to the fountain. "Mlle?" The servants voice stirred her from deep thoughts of sorrow. "MMM?" she replied, reclining her head to the side to look on him "ah yes Claude, that will be all, have the valet prepare the carraige for the morning and do feel free to take the rest of the evening off" she replied, watching him bow and leave the room, eyes wandering down his back as she remebered the amusing evenings here in her fathers estate with her servants, drinking and gamling amoungst other things that is frowned upon by society. But alas, Versailles had changed too much in recent weeks, and so had her family dynamics. Trailing her fingers along the dust sheets that now covered most of the furniture in the house, she made her way to her small desk, and sitting, began to write to her dear brother.

"My dearest Louis, I am setting forth for Melioria this morn to be with you in our grief, and should arrive sometime at weeks end. I have closed down my small tailors stall in Versailles and have instructed him to set forth immediatly for Melioria to prepare for my stay. I look forward to being in your company once again, like in childhood, all but for our dear sister Isabelle. The house is prepared for departure in view of a long stay away, and the servants given the choice to join us. I hope the messenger greets you hastily and finds you well, all my love, Amelie X "

Sighing she settled the quill back in the ink well and sealed the envelope with the Tancarville stamp, perching it on the desk for Claude to collect, and having one last glance around the room where she was raised smiling sadly, as she closed the door with a soft "Goodbye"

With his wife's guest now gone and the house quiet, Henri-Armand sneaks up the stairs as if heading to bed himself. He pauses outside the door to her rooms and listens for any sounds. The soft crackle of the fire in the fireplace, the occasional flip of a page in a book betrayed her presence in the room. he smiled and reached for the door knob, turning it and letting himself in. The sounds so quiet she barely seemed to take notice as he made his way into her room. With the door shut, he slipped off his jacket and set it on the chair near the bed. His eyes almost boring through her as he stepped closer to the bed. It was then when she jerked her head up from her book and turned to face him, the first time in her room. "Henri... I.." She brought her hand up as he moved forward at her... tonight she would be his.

That was the plan....

When Burly and I finally arrived at the convent where La Contessa was last seen, it appeared to be locked up and deserted. Not one nun could be seen, no gardener, no caretaker. No one. Burly hammered at the big doors and called out, but silence was the stern reply. This scene was beginning to feel familiar standing outside a do Fruitlessly knocking

We decided to go to the local pub to talk this through and ask anyone there about the convent. It was a quiet place housing only a bald-headed bar tender and a surly looking chap drinking his vino rosso in the corner. We sat down at a table and ordered some grappa, warming ourselves by the nearby fire, collecting our thoughts.

The bar tender, Vincenzo Bertolino, although cordial, seemed a bit reserved, and it took a lot of our time and patience to pull out any information from him.

Apparently the building hasnt been a convent for at least five years, the nuns who once inhabited had moved to the nearby island of Burano! Strangely coincidental is the fact that the building was subsequently sold to Conte Francesco Foscari, Elenas grandfather, who, according to our host, never comes there. Now in his early eighties, the old Count has retired to Villa Malcontenta on the Brenta Canal, just outside Venezia. So vexed was I that I pulled off my veil and threw it on the floor in frustration-fantasies of a happy ending slowly turning to feelings of anger mixed with fear and foreboding.

Things were going nowhere. We were unable to learn anything from the stranger in the corner he was extremely hostile and seemed to resent Burlys elegant clothing. He asked to be left in peace. Some of his disparaging remarks to both of us made me blush.

So here we are-- no further ahead that we were two days ago but with even more questions than answers. Who were those people at the convent when La Contessa first entered it? It is true, we only saw one nun and one nun does not a convent make. Where did Elena go? Was she kidnapped or did she leave of her own volition? If so, who was waiting for her there? Also, why did those men attack Mercury? What were they trying to prevent him from doing or learning? Why is the Ca Foscari locked up and abandoned? Where is Count Foscari, Elena's father? Burly and I decided to return to Venezia and discuss this with |Mercury before proceeding further. What a dejected pair we were as we climbed aboard the gondola and reported back to Mercury

!