And so the House, once LeMarchand, now de Valmont, returned to normal.
Or what passed as normal on the outside.
Danforth, the oh-so-proper English butler, returned from hiding in the stables, as quiet and formal as ever, if a bit twitchy in one eye. He moved quietly through the house, never asking about the Lady...or Lord LeMarchand.
The upstairs chambermaid was replaced with one more to the Marquis's tastes. Her name was Louisa, an eighteen year old with the curves of a much older woman, pure peasant stock. She had joyously agreed to the job when Danforth had sent a message to her mother, and had anticipated meeting the well-known and thought-of Lady Claire LeMarchand.
You can image her surprise when Danforth admitted her not into the Lady's presence, but into the Great Library, a room so immense, the ceiling was lost in shadows. Columns filled with all types of books soared to the upper reaches of the room, and mounted trophies stared at her from all corners. She stared at those animals, dropping her meager bag of clothing, fearful to move at all lest they pounce.
"What are you waiting for, my dear?" came the Marquis's smooth baritone. He was sitting in an armchair of indeterminate color beside a blazing fire in a fireplace large enough to roast a whole ox at once. She jumped, completely startled, and managed, "I'm sorry, Sir." Pulling herself together, she curtsied and began again, "I'm Louisa, the new upstairs maid, Sir. I...I was told to report to Lady..."
"No, you will report to me." came the reply full of rich humor. "Come here and let me see you."
She moved only slightly closer, alarms already going off in her simple mind. She had longish brown hair wrapped around the back of her head in thick braids, hazel eyes as frightened as a rabbit's, and a wide mouth with full pink lips.
Perfect, the Marquis thought.
She wore a full skirt of heavy woven wool, dyed a deep green, and a bleached muslim shirt that dipped low in the front showing quite a bit of cleavage.
"Come closer, my dear. My eyes just aren't as good as they once were." he tittered. She moved scant inches forward.
All at once, he was grasping the front of her shirt and pulling her to him. She opened her mouth to scream when his large hand covered it completely. "Don't make a sound. If you make a sound, not only will you be out of this house, but I'll ruin that pretty little face of yours before I do it." he sing-songed to her. She stood perfectly still, her breathing labored and harsh, staring straight into his eyes. "First rule. In this house, if I speak, you will listen. If I give you a command, you will follow it or suffer at my hands. Is that clear?" She was too frightened to move, so he grabbed the great knot of hair at the back of her head and made her head nod in agreement. At the same time, he began pulling pins out and dropping them on the floor. Her hair finally fell in a great wave almost to the backs of her knees.