French Frolics & Fancies [13/10]

[Fluff]

Ruvigny sat himself at the fireplace, already started earlier that afternoon for despite the enduring good weather, there was a chill in the air, autumn having arrived. No doubts storms would soon follow. England was a dismal country.

 

"You called for me," the soft spoken blond stepped from the shadows, showing the Ambassador he was not alone as he lowered the hood of his cloak. He had come through a secret passage that he had been shown by the Duke of York on one of his tours for merriment.

 

Ruvigny regarded the man before him, an Englishman, yet dressed to the latest Parisian fashion. As the young man moved he winced, making Rugvigny's eyes narrow as he had seen it before on his countrymen. So, the rumours were correct. Never would he, as a Huguenot, understand what motivated Catholics to subject themselves to constant painful reminders of the suffering of Christ. To him it signalled an unhealthy radicalization, turning young men into zealots. He had seen first hand what damage that could do.

 

"I have heard rumours," Ruvigny drawled, not inviting his visitor to sit, so that he might feel all the more that he was lower in rank "That greatly disturb me. Is it true that you've visited Monsigneur this summer?"

 

"It is true," the blond said simply, finding no sense in denial, instead reminding the French Ambassador "Is not Monsigneur working on behalf of France as are we all?"

 

"I will not be party to this," Rugvigny suddenly hissed with vehemence, slamming down his glass of cognac on the sidetable so that it splattered all over his hand "When I accepted this commission I did so with honour that I earned on the battlefield for La France. I shall not demean her like this. Call them off. I don't care what they are planning, but it must not be allowed to continue. The consequences for France and all of the English Catholics are greater than you can imagine. You will fail and the subsequent revenge shall be on your head."

 

"Impossible, all the pieces are in place. Do not lose heart now, your Excellence," the blond smoothly reassured the ambassador "We will be victorious and the day shall be celebrated for centuries to come. You will be celebrated. None shall question your honour, I reassure you."

 

"I should go to Williamson," Rugvingny spat.

 

"But you will not," the Englishman observed with a thin smile. It would be certain death to the family of Rugvigny back home, his wife and other young children, only his son and some cousins having come with him on this tour. Such was the penalty of treachery to the French reasons of state.