The carriage clattered down the cobbled street. Clarisse hung on grimly to the overhead straps. She had only just escaped. Papa had blustered away to the revolutionary guard as only papa could, giving her time to escape through the back door. Phillipe, their groom, had had the carriage ready, and their flight to Calais had begun.
She was only eighteen, an aristocrat and alone in a changed world.
The carriage slowed and stopped. Fearfully she lifted a corner of the curtain. They were at one of the gates leading out of the city. Phillipe was chatting with the soldier on guard. Still chuckling at whatever story her servant had told him, the guard walked towards the carriage door. Gasping she let the curtain drop. Abruptly the carriage door swung open.
"Mon Dieu.....Ahhhh!" Before the soldier could finish his exclamation, Phillipe had driven his knife into the base of his skull. Quickly the groom bundled the body into the carriage , returned to the driver's seat and set the team to a gallop. For what seemed like hours, Clarisse bounced about the speeding carriage trying to avoid the revolutionary's body that gravity seemed to insist follow her about the enclosed space.
Suddenly the carriage stopped. The door opened and Phillipe beckoned her to step out.
"Oh Phillipe!" she cried flinging her arms around his neck, "How can I ever thank you!" Although French by birth her family, aristocratic merchants, had lived in London for the vast majority of her life.
"We are in the Pas de Calais" Phillipe said " Tomorrow we will arrive at the coast and a boat can be found to take you to England!" Phillipe was a tall thin man with hooded eyes, he had ridiculously broad shoulders and a vicious scar that ran from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. In years gone by, something about him had made Clarisse's mouth go dry and her heart race.
"I will pay you well Phillipe" Clarisse reached into her bosom to access the gold sovereigns hidden in the purse she had tied around her neck.
Phillipe pushed her hand away
"No! Mademoiselle! I do not want your gold!"
"But...?"
"I want you!" Phillipe suddenly gripped her shoulders.
"Phillipe!" Clarisse tried desperately to break away
'And where will you go ma petite?' Phillipe smiled cruelly.
"You are an aristocrat, you are surrounded by revolutionary soldiers who would like nothing better than to separate your lovely head from your body" During his speech he gently put both hands around her pretty neck
"I will save you from Madame Guillotine but first....You will pay your dues!"
"My, my...dues?"
"You are a virgin? Yes?" Phillipe placed a hand on her silk covered breast
"A virgin...But of course!" Clarisse was appalled .yet strangely exited.
"Then that, Ma cherie, is my price for your freedom!"
"I don't understand!" Clarisse spluttered
"Oh but I think you do!" Phillipe grabbed her hand and led her away from the road to a thickly wooded copse.
"We don't want to be disturbed now do we?" He said
Suddenly Phillipe tripped over an exposed tree root and Clarisse managed to break away. She tried to run but quickly realised that the dark wood was probably more frightening than her erstwhile groom. She came to a stop, her back against an enormous oak tree, her breath coming in short bursts.
Thud, Phillipe's right fist beat into the tree beside her right ear.
"Enough!" He said. "I claim my prize!"
