She continued to kneel before him, her head drooping with her shame. She had swallowed every bit of his juices, struggling not to vomit them back at his feet. That, she knew, would not please him, and she had to please him if she was to save the children from his power.

Reynaud rebuttoned his breeches. "You have hidden talents, Citizeness."

She looked up at him. "My children?"

"I may reconsider my decision, Citizeness. Leave your bedchamber door open tonight, and we shall converse further on the matter," he told her. "Now get up, and see to the dinner. I wish to go over my brother's accounts."

Anne-Marie d'Aumont stumbled from the library where they had been speaking. The house was quiet.

Only two of the servants had remained after her arrest. They hadn't wanted to go, but she had sent them away, fearful for their safety under the circumstances. She had paid their year's wages so they would not starve. The old cook had remained, and her maid who was now with the children. She hurried to the kitchen. "Thérèse," she said in what she hoped passed for a normal voice, "do we have anything for supper? Monsieur Reynaud is remaining."


"That one!" Thérèse spat. "What does he want, madame?"

"Le Verger," the comtesse answered softly.

"Oh, the wicked devil," the old cook cried. "If the monsignor were alive he would not dare. He cannot take Le Verger from the petit monsieur Jean-Robert, madame."

"He can, and he means to do it. He wants to send my son to the army, and my daughter to a glovemaker in Paris, Thérèse. I am trying to reason with him. We must please him. Help me, I beg you!"

"Finely ground glass in his soup, madame," the cook muttered balefully. "Or," she made a slicing motion across her throat.

"We cannot kill him, Thérèse. He is the head of the Committee for Public Safety in St. Jean Baptiste. He is well known in Harfleur. If he disappeared we would all face Madame la Guillotine, I fear."

"I can make a rabbit pie, and I have a chicken I can roast," the cook said grudgingly. "I will do what I can to help, madame, but it will not please me to see Reynaud le bâtard sitting in monsignor's place at the head of the table tonight."

"Nor will it please me, Thérèse, but the times have changed. It is no longer the world we knew. If I can persuade Monsieur Reynaud to simply take Le Verger, I intend to make my way to my uncle in London with the children. I will see you have your wages, and a bit more I can spare."

"Madame! Madame!" The old woman threw her apron over her face, and began to sob. "If you go, take me with you. My granddaughter, Céline, and I have no one but the famille d'Aumont. We will not serve Reynaud le bâtard. Take us with you."

"Are you sure Céline does not want to remain here? What of that young man she was walking out with, Thérèse?" the comtesse asked.

"He was taken to serve in General Bonaparte's army, madame, and has not been heard of since," Thérèse said.

Anne-Marie sighed softly. "If Monsieur Reynaud does not object, Thérèse, then you and Céline may come with us, but I do not know how we shall survive in England. I have little money, I fear."

"Money." The cook spat scornfully. "We will go with you, madame, for no money at all. Our family has served the d'Aumonts for centuries. A revolution will not change that for Céline and for me."

The comtesse hugged the old cook, her blue eyes filling with tears. "Merci, Thérèse. Merci. We will all survive… somehow."

"Oui, madame, we will, and we will be together," the cook declared, as she hugged her mistress back.

"Feed the children here in the kitchens, Thérèse. I do not want him near them. And tell Céline to remain with them tonight. They are to sleep in the nursery as they did when they were younger," the comtesse instructed the cook. "I will go now, and set the table."

"Très bien, madame," the old cook said, understanding more than her mistress would have believed she did.

To Anne-Marie's amazement Thérèse managed to present a wonderful dinner. The countess had set the table in her salle à manger, and then changed her gown for something cleaner. She dressed her hair herself, twisting it into a neat chignon. She needed to give Reynaud the idea that she was not entirely helpless, or afraid, and was ready to bargain with him for her children's safety. And Thérèse certainly did her part.

They began with a wonderful soup of onions and red wine. Next Thérèse brought forth trout, broiled in butter. There followed the rabbit pie with its thick brown gravy, petites carottes, and little shallots; a roasted chicken with an apple and bread stuffing, petits pois, bread, and sweet butter.

Reynaud d'Aumont ate heartily, smacking his lips, mopping up every bit of the winy gravy with bread. "The old lady hasn't lost her touch," he said, "but I have a younger woman to take her place."

"Then you will not mind if she comes to England with me," Anne-Marie said softly.

He grinned. "We have yet to come to a final arrangement, citizeness," he told her.

"You may have whatever you want of me, Reynaud," she said. "You may have Le Verger, and everything in it. Just let me go with my children. We will take nothing but the clothing on our backs. Just let us go. Surely you must have some feeling for the brother you betrayed. Marie-Claire and Jean-Robert are his children. They have loved you. Does your need for vengeance really demand the destruction of innocents? Have mercy, I beg you!"

"Go up to your bedchamber and wait for me," he said. "We will see how well you can bargain for your children, Citizeness."

She arose from the table, and curtseying to him left the room. Upstairs there was not a sound to be heard. Céline and Thérèse had obviously fed the children, and they were now in bed, sleeping, she prayed. Her bed, the bed she had shared with Jean-Claude, was turned back. She undressed without any help, leaving only her chemise on for a night garment. These days with no one to do the laundry, many of her garments did double duty, and were only washed when absolutely necessary. Undoing her hair she brushed it out, starting as the door to her bedchamber opened, and Reynaud came into the room.

Wordless at first, he removed his own clothing and boots. Finally clad only in his shirt he turned about and said to her, "Take off your chemise. I want to see what it is you have to offer me, citizeness."

She quickly obeyed, and stood naked before him. He walked around her, stopping behind to press himself against her, his big hands moving to cup her breasts.

"Very nice," he murmured his approval, "especially considering your age, and the fact you have whelped two brats." He squeezed her breasts hard, smiling when she winced. He was surprised to find that the mere thought of fucking this aristo was very exciting. He rubbed himself against her, his manhood sliding against the split between her bottom. "Did Jean-Claude ever give it to you there, Citizeness?" he whispered into her ear, "or will I be the first to taste that pleasure?"

She couldn't answer him. Her heart was beating so fast, and she could feel the bitter fear rising in her throat.

He laughed nastily. "First things first, however, Citizeness. On your knees again, and suck. I will tell you when to stop, and you had best be as skillful tonight as you were earlier today. Ahh, yes, bitch, that is good. Very good!" He closed his eyes, and when he was hard, but not yet ready to loose his juices, he said, "Now, my pretty little citizeness, on your back, and open your legs. Then I want you to tell me how much you want to be lucked by me. 1 low long has my brother been dead now?" He pushed her back onto the bed. "He was a virile man, Jean-Claude, and you're not so old yet that you didn't enjoy his husbandly attentions, are you?" He fell atop her. "Now tell me, Citizeness, how much you want me to do it to you!"

"Reynaud! In the name of le hon Dieu," she pleaded.

"Tell me, you aristocratic bitch, or our discussions are over, and your children are gone on the morrow!" he snarled, slapping her.

"Please," she begged him, and realizing that wasn't enough, she continued, "please fuck me, Reynaud. Oh, do it to me. 1 want it. I need it. Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! Ahhhhhh!" she shrieked as he rammed himself into her cruelly. His mouth mashed down upon her lips, kissing her hungrily, his tongue stabbing at her tongue as she struggled not to gag. She realized almost immediately that if she didn't exhibit a measure of enthusiasm he was not going to be satisfied. She groaned beneath him, her nails raking down the broad back beneath his shirt. She wrapped his torso about with her legs. "Oh, yes," she murmured into his ear. "Oh, yes, Reynaud! Do it to me hard!" And he did.

He grunted, and sweated over her body. The walls of her love sheath seemed to grasp him tightly, and he howled with his lust. He could feel her full breasts beneath his chest, their nipples hard as little iron points. Then his excited desires burst, and he was angry for a moment until he realized that he had an entire night ahead of him. He was going to suckle and bite those breasts until she screamed with both pain and pleasure. He was going to make her suck him to another stand, and then he was going to put himself into her rosette. That was something he knew his brother had never done, but he would do it. And she would love it, he was quite certain. He had always wanted Anne-Marie. Now she was his slave for as long as he desired her. He did not think he would grow tired of her too quickly. But when he was, he would sell her to a madame he knew in Harfleur, and dispose of her children exactly as he had planned to do. The boy would go first to the army, and the girl would serve her apprenticeship in Paris. But not, perhaps, before he violated her as his father had once violated his mother. Now that would be true revolutionary justice! He laughed aloud with his silent thoughts, and the woman beneath him trembled at the evil sound.


***

That she had lived through what was undoubtedly the worst night of her life amazed Anne-Marie d'Aumont when she awoke the following morning. Reynaud d'Aumont lay snoring like a pig next to her. He had violated and degraded her in ways she had never imagined. She crept from the bed, aching and sore all over. Finding a pitcher of water in the warm coals of the fireplace, she attempted to wash his filth from her flesh. She doubted that she could ever erase the memories, but if it would save her children she would do it all over again. As clean as she could be she dressed swiftly, and escaped from the room, hurrying down the stairs to the kitchen where her children were waiting to see her.

"Maman!" they cried.

Then Marie-Claire, aged twelve said, "What is the matter, Maman? Why did Papa's valet eat with you last night, and then remain?"

"Monsieur Reynaud is now the new owner of Le Verger," she began slowly.

"Le Verger is mine," Jean-Robert cried indignantly. "My uncle is the bastard. I am the true heir."

"Non, mon bébé. Le Verger is now Monsieur Reynaud's. So the revolution has ruled. We are going to England soon, to my uncle's home in London. Ohh, you will like London, mes enfants. And Thérèse and Céline will come with us, Jean-Robert. Won't that be nice?"


"The English are our enemies," the boy said stonily

"Grandpapa was English, Jean-Robert. You arc named for him," she reminded her son gently.

"Stupid boy," his sister said. "Monsieur Reynaud has stolen Le Verger, and there is nothing we can do about it."

"I will go to the king," the boy responded hotly.

"There is no king, Jean-Robert," his sister reminded him. "Not anymore. They cut off his head just the way they did to Papa."

Jean-Robert began to sniffle.

"Marie-Claire," her mother scolded her, but she knew her daughter was being practical.

"When are we going?" the girl asked.

"Soon," her mother promised her. Then she turned to her maid, Céline. "Take the children to Père André for their lessons," she instructed the younger woman. "Do not come back for a while."