Thread: Au-delà du Temps: Beyond Time (LeatrixSage x SacrlettRose)

Breakfast. The most important meal of the day had been ruined as he slumped back down onto his seat. He was tired and she was utterly infuriating and this game they were playing had him very uncomfortable in his breeches for him to enjoy breakfast. Wessex sipped his now ice cold tea before slamming the china down making it clatter and it was only a miracle the fine ceramic survived as he roared to the footman to fetch him a fresh brew. As he waited, Roarke contemplated how utterly long this journey to back to England was going to be with this fiery vixen along for the ride. He'd have been better to just cage her up and bring her back like that. At least then she would be less of a pain in his arse. But then, he had to admit rather annoyingly he'd miss her virago like temperament. It was indeed rare that he enjoyed a woman's company. Of course, he could cope with a woman's chatter when he was bedding them but outside of that he found most women as vapid and uninteresting as was society's rule for them he supposed. A freckled young maid with bright orange hair that was adorned into a loose plait came in with the fresh pot of tea. She was a silly creature with unspent laughter in her almond shaped eyes. She replaced the pot and poured him a fresh cup of tea. Roarke watched her before he addressed her. Mademoiselle Aedler is entertaining you I see, oui? He questioned her in French. Oui My Lord she is very funny. She answered standing up straight, her pale hands clasped before her. He was well aware of the females in his employee were romantic ninny's who fancied every woman who passed through his doors as his next potential spouse. Do you think funny is a good quality in a wife? He questioned her further conversationally which only made the girl's thin eyebrows shoot up into her hairline as she gasped. He was clearly bringing her fantasies to life. After all, if he married right here in this house that would mean they'd get to enjoy the wedding too. My Lord, I think humour is very important in a future wife. She pressed, her excitement barely contained and gave her master the impression that if it was up to her he'd be getting wed this very moment! Though Mademoiselle is very pretty my Lord, looks fade and then it is good to have a wife who's company you can enjoy when her beauty has faded. Roarke was rather surprised and impressed by the logical and rational response from this young girl. He looked upon her with a growing grin, his hand coming to rub his day old stubbled chin. When he said nothing she became nervous and added, . . . M-Madame Annette says that Mademoiselle Addie is most suited to you out of all the wome- err that is to say my Lord all of your lady friends she has met. Indeed. Wessex continues to grin at the flustered maid. It was certainly interesting to know the fodder and gossip his staff believed about him. Or maybe he was simply procrastinating from the trials ahead of him. And what would wear to such an occasion as my nuptials? Oh my Lord a lovely bonnet and my finest dress! She exclaimed happily. Absolument! Wessex replied, slipping his hand into his pocket and pulling out a note, opening her small fisted hand and curving her fingers around it before picking up his cup and drinking his tea. There, buy yourself a new dress and bonnet. He told the young girl who could not be more than thirteen years rewarding her for entertaining him but most of all for her excellent and clever answer. Now go. He shooed her away and she did not need to be told twice and she buoyantly skipped off with her bounty. Merci beaucoup my Lord! -- The young maid glided up next to Annette and Addie's side as they waved the Seamstress off. She was practically bursting with glee. She simply could not wait to tell Annette what had happened. Annette! Annette! She whispered breathlessly. Look! What is it child?! Annette chided before gasping as her eyes settled on the note. Mon Dieu! Where did you get that from Christine?! My Lord gave it to me! Christine replied, her excitement showing no signs of dying down. To buy a new dress and bonnet . . . for his wedding! She tried to squeak quietly but failed. A wedding Annette! How exciting! I'm sure my Lord will give us a bonus and we shall feast like Kings! Annette looked shocked, her gaze slowly moving to Addie and simply staring at her for a long moment before she managed a nervous smile. Indeed. I do not doubt it. Before her composure was back in place and she directed them. Come Mademoiselle. We must prepare you for your journey non? Bestowing her motherly smile and intentions upon Addie once more. Come along now my dear. -- In the magical silence the Marquess nursed his much needed tea and wondered why every woman in his life was so hellbent with sending him to his doom down the aisle. He couldn't understand this absurd obsession with matrimony. Personally he hated the whole institution, it simply an invention by women to get a hold of a man's fortune and to tie him down by a string until death doth thou part. There was no woman alive that was capable of inducing him to such madness and with that final thought Roarke rose to his feet and went about his day making the final preparations for his departure with Mademoiselle Aedler. There was in fact even time for a nap. God only knew how the journey would have fared if he did not have a little sleep. However fortunately for Adelaide and his coachman he was in far better a mood after some rest. Where is she? Roarke barked in his usual manner. Annette fetch Mademoiselle Aedler. Tell her I do not have all day. My Lord, a woman needs time to get ready. Annette assured her master as they stood in the glowing foyer before the grand staircase. The chandeliers had been lit and the double doors were open and it was clear night was setting in. Can you not wait to journey in the morning my Lord? Annette beseeched the Marquess. Night is setting in so dark with the promise of rain. Annette when you become a navigator I will ask for your advice on my travel plans. Now do as I say and fetch that wretched wench! Roarke roared. He had already been waiting a good twenty minutes when he was told she'd be only five. Women! They were all the bloody same. The Marquess huffed and resigned himself to more waiting, standing tall in his fine riding attire. His whipping cracking against his leather riding boots. The carriage, the horses, everything was ready to go. And if she is not down in five minutes or less! His voice thundered up after Annette taking the stairs as quickly as she could to do his bidding. Tell her I will come and fetch her myself! And damn well carry her if I have to!