The sacrifice of innocence.

[cgraven]

The sacrifice of innocence

This is a closed thread I invite you to read along and enjoy.

The reign of Louis XIV was a time of French power. England, Spain, and Austria were reigned against France in a struggle for supremacy in Europe. It was also a time of royal decadence in Louis’ royal court. A time when a young beauty’s innocence was a tasty morsal to plucked and savored. It was also a time when an insult, real or imaginary, called for satisfaction or revenge. This is a story of a case were a man wronged would serve up a most delicious revenge to the man who had sullied his reputation, for if a man does not have his reputation then he has nothing.



The old man in a tattered guard’s uniform sat in the shadow of Noter Dame de Paris. A small crowd had gathered around him as he told his story. It was a story of how the Comet De Guise had ordered the Guards to the attack, an attack that was certain suicide, in revenge for being spurned by Roxana. Her lover Christian, and her dear friend Cyrano were in the Guard’s and perished in the attack. Few men survived that suicidal attack the old beggar declared.



One man who listened to the old soldier’s tale was Jules Batard Comte de Lorraine, who had been a young Captain in the Guard’s, a hero of France. He had seen the slaughter and waste of that charge all to sooth De Guise’s wounded pride. Jules dropped three coins into the old soldier’s begging blow and headed to the coffee shop by Sacra Crux. Jules sat reading his gazette when he came across the announcement that the Comte De Guise was to be married. Poor Girl was the first thought that crossed Jules’ mind. Yet slowly another thought came to him, De Guise had a hundred men go to their death because he had been spurned by Roxana. He had started roamers that Batard was a coward who had hid, few believed the tale, yet his reputation would always be in question. Why not seduce de Guise’s young Fiancé, take her virginity, and use her in such a way that de Guise would be publicly shamed.



Jules Batard searched the Gazette for a clue as to who this young girl might be. When he found no firm lead he listened to the local gossip to see if he could find out the girl’s name.

 

[pink_silk_glove]

It had actually happened. It had to happen sooner or later, perhaps much later, years later, until that day. A letter had arrived and Papa had called for her. It hung from his fingers as he told her the news. She had been promised to marriage to the Compte de Guise, a man whom she had only met once when she was a child and could not recall his countenance. He was a widower and was abroad in Genoa for some sort of business or diplomacy. Papa seemed quite pleased with himself as he handed her the letter, assurance in his expression, his voice, as if everything was settled and right. Silently, she read it, the words in the Compte's neat pen barely registering. His return was uncertain but believed to be later in the year upon whence they would wed.

It had been so much easier for Yvette, her older sister, tall and willowy with face bright and full of laughter. Courted by many, she wed at sixteen to the Herzog von Weissenmach, a handsome young blonde cavalier who had waltzed her back to Switzerland five years ago.

Delphine was different. Quiet and reserved, she was nineteen and had never seen a serious suitor. She stood in her chamber, urging her posture, wincing as one of her maids cinched the lacing of her corset behind her, and closing her eyes as another dusted her face with powder rather unnecessary for her pale complexion. The glass was held before her, showing her soft skin and hollow cheeks, foggy blue eyes set deep amidst rose flourish paint and powder, small enrouged lips. She had a frailty to her, accentuated by her paleness and the hint of strawberry in her thin blonde hair pulled back from her face and trailed behind from a pink bow.

Maman entered. Delphine looked up for her approval as she stepped forth and took her at armslength and sighed warmly. Maman traced the sleeves of her daughters white linen blouse to their trumpeted ends and inspected her manicured nails. Then she patted the dobbied gold silk of the bodice, the modest swell of her cleft barely twitching in the tightness of the corset. Delphine demured.

"Oui, will do," she smiled finally and nodded to the attendants. "It's your first evening out since your engagement. You must show well," she said.

They stepped out of the carriage, Papa, the Compte de Courcy Jean-Claude, in rich blue with his dark locks and mustache streaking in grey, Maman, the Comptesse Mirande willowy with dark hair and shiny dark eyes passed on to her eldest daughter, radiant in emerald silk, the youngest Christian, age eleven but the heir to his father's title, also in blue, and Delphine, gathering her skirts while helped to the ground by the valet not nearly so tall as her mother. They ascended the steps to the Opera and entered to the foyer hubbub. The Maitre announced their entrance and Maman stepped aside, proudly putting her daughter on display. Delphine blushed uncomfortably as eyes turned to her.

 

[cgraven]

Jules Batard Comte de Lorraine had made it a point to attend the Paris Opera this evening. The Gazette had announced that Mademoiselle Delphine, the daughter of the Compte de Courcy, and the fiancée of the Compte De Guise, would be attending the opera this evening . Jules had chosen a bold choice, a midnight blue silk suit. The breeches were tight and form fitting, with a pair of scarlet hose and showed the curve of his calf perfectly, the vest was of the same dark silk, and his coat seemed to flow as he moved, and he wore a sword as was his privilege . Jules Batard was not a young man, nor was he as old as the compte De Guise.



The Maitre struck the marble floor three times and announced the entrance of Compte de Courcy and family. Madame de Courcy stepped aside, proudly putting her young daughter on display. Delphine blushed uncomfortably as eyes turned to her. A low murmur spread though the foyer as they gazed on the young blonde that mother’s had proudly placed on display. Jules Boldly made his way through the patrons of the opera. He was a hero of France, and none dare impede his passage. “Compte de Courcy, Madame…….” Batard’s courtly bow was graceful, and with a sensual flourish. He then turned to Delphine, he boldly took her hand, his lips brushed the back of the young girl’s hand. “……….enchanted Mademoiselle Delphine”



“Compte de Courcy would you and your family do me the honor to share my box.” This was a bold act as de Courcy’s social status was far below that of Jules Batard Comte de Lorraine. The cux de gure hung around his neck, one did not refuse one’s superior and a hero of France. De Courcy bowed low, “It would be our pleasure Misuser Le Compte” de Curcy and his family accompanied Jules to his opera box. De Curcy, his wife, and his heir Christian were given the place of honor in the front row of the box while Jules and the young Delphine sat in back in the shadows.



Batard leaned close to Delphine and whispered. “ The Opera rather bores me Mademoiselle Delphine, I prefer the theater, I find it stimulating, I enjoy its wit, sarcasm, as it challenges our minds.” As he spoke his warm moist breath set the stray hairs at the nape of Delphine’s neck dancing seductively. “Which do you prefer Mademoiselle?” Batard’s voice was low and sensual. Jules flited with the young beauty.

Jules Batard would take his time seducing the innocent young beauty.

 

[pink_silk_glove]

The Comte de Lorraine needed not to step forward to stand out from the crowd in his vivid blue with sharp red stockings on his lithe legs.

"Compte de Courcy, Madame," he introduced himself to Maman with a deep bow before setting his sights upon her. He kissed her hand, the soft touch sending chills up her arm and neck. "Enchanted, Mademoiselle Delphine."

She knew of him, of course, and had even seen him about many times. He seemed to bask in social circles as one of the most loved and yet hated men in Paris, although Delphine knew not all the reasons why.

"Comte de Courcy, would you and your family do me the honor to share my box?"

Papa agreed and they followed, Maman with chin held astute as they passed the wave of curtsies and well wishes. All eyes were upon them. They were the news and it was all because of Delphine's engagement. The cross felt heavy on her shoulders. They arrived at the box and while Maman motioned for her daughter to take the front, Jules bade her young son to sit to the fore instead, which he did promptly.

"The opera rather bores me, Mademoiselle Delphine," Jules startled her as the orchestra tuned. "I prefer the theater. I find it stimulating. I enjoy its wit, sarcasm, as it challenges our minds. "Which do you prefer, Mademoiselle?" His soft warm breath on her neck sent chills all over her scalp. Arrested for a moment, she sat silent.

"I find the theatre well," she hushed quietly. Before her, Maman was acknowledging waves and wishes from the audience below. Delphine sat still, scared to move, to disturb her posture or to break the serenity of the moment. "But I quite like the opera," she said. "For the music. I love the sound of the orchestra and the melodies of the voices."

 

[cgraven]

"I find the theatre well," she hushed quietly. As her, Mama was acknowledging waves and wishes from the audience below. Young Mademoiselle Delphine sat still, apparently scared to move, to disturb her posture or to break the serenity of the moment. "But I quite like the opera," she said. "For the music. I love the sound of the orchestra and the melodies of the voices."



Jules nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Do you enjoy poetry and reading Mademoiselle Delphine, who is your favorite author……..” Jules was probing to see if this fetching young blonde beauty was a sophisticated, urbane courtesan or was she an unsullied, naïve, country maiden. It was important that he know for his seduction of Mademoiselle Delphine to be successful. Batard knew that the de Courcy’s would have sent Delphine to a convent school, but had she been sent to the royal court of Louis as well ?



“Mademoiselle Delphine tell me what you enjoy, riding, walking in the garden of Luxenberg, picnicking along the river.” Jules boldly took her hand in his. “Mademoiselle Delphine may I call on you.” His voice was smooth, hypnotically, and seductive. “ Delphine………..” he pressed his lips to the palm of her hand.

 

[pink_silk_glove]

"Do you enjoy poetry and reading Mademoiselle Delphine? Who is your favorite author?"

She turned to him sharply, again spooked by his question, his interest, then snapped back forward without answering as her Mother checked her shoulder at the murmuring in the back row of the box. The audience quieted as the conductor took his place and the the curtain raised to begin the show. The orchestra took up the first strains and the primadonna entered, plump and powdered and wrapped in ravishing crimson. Once her voice began to ring the comte's breath returned to her neck sending yet another shiver over her skin.

"Mademoiselle Delphine, tell me what you enjoy, riding, walking in the garden of Luxenberg, picnicking along the river?" he asked. Afraid that they might disturb the box, she could not answer. It would be rude to distract from the stage. Then she almost jumped in fright as he took her hand, not believing that he would persist. "Mademoiselle Delphine, may I call on you?" he propositioned with a kiss to her hand.

Eyes widening, she inhaled sharply and in her posture pushed the welts of her breast outward. Then she held still for a moment before exhaling slowly and carefully as to not call any attention. Maman and Papa were right there seated just before them and there was no telling how many lurking eyes below may have been watching their glamorous box. Still, no man had ever paid Delphine such intimate heed and it liquefied and swirled her innermost like never before. After a lingering moment she quickly pulled her hand from his grasp and folded it with the other in her lap. Peering pleadingly at him from the corner of her eye, she could not figure what he was doing, but knew that whatever it was was potentially scandalous. She waited for a flourish in the score.

"This is hardly an appropriate place," she hissed as she leaned to him and quickly resumed her posture, outwardly stiff but inwardly jittered.

 

[cgraven]

"Do you enjoy poetry and reading Mademoiselle Delphine? Who is your favorite author?" Delphine turned to him sharply, was that a blush that kissed the young girl’s cheeks, a blush brought on by his question, his interest in her. That pretty little head then snapped back forward without answering him. Madame de Courcy petulantly looked over her shoulder at the murmuring in the back row of the box.


"Mademoiselle Delphine, tell me what you enjoy, riding, walking in the garden of Luxenberg, picnicking along the river?” Batard pressed the Delphine, yet as the house lights began to dim the young mademoiselle refused to answer his question. Again, Batard pressed the girl, "Mademoiselle Delphine, may I call on you?" Jules boldly propositioned with a kiss to her hand. Delphine’s eyes widening, she inhaled sharply. Batard was pleased the way her posture pushed the welts of her breast outward, as she held still for a moment before exhaling slowly and carefully as to not call any attention to herself.


Could it be that no one had paid such intimate attention to the little blonde before? Once more he thought what a shame such a young beauty should be condemned to a marriage to the elderly Comte de Guise. Jules knew that he was no young Cavalier. His ginger hair showed silver at the temples, though his figure was still one of strength, unlike the corpulent de Guise. He could be witty and charming. No it was better to think of young Mademoiselle Delphine as just a tasty morsal to be plucked, compromised, and used to disgrace de Guise.



The overture played and a hush settled over the opera house as the opera began. Young Delphine, after a lingering moment, quickly pulled her hand from Jules’s grasp and folded it with the other in her lap. Peering pleadingly at him from the corner of her eye, as she whispered, "This is hardly an appropriate place," she hissed as she leaned to him and then quickly resumed her posture. Yet Jules had seen her outwardly stiffness, and yet a blush that hinted at an inwardly jitteriness.



Jules sat through the laborious opera, endured the formality of the intermission as people jockeyed to see and be seen with their social betters as they drank Champaign. Jules sat disinterested through the rest of the opera. As the house lights came up and as the de Courcy’s prepared to leave Batard pressed a note into Delphine’s hand.



Mademoiselle de Courcy,

Would you do me the honor of meeting me tomorrow at noon in

the jarden de Luxenberg.

Jules Batard Comte de Lorraine



At noon on the following day Jules Batard Comte de Lorraine was leisurely strolled through the gardens and wondering if Mademoiselle Delphine de Courcy would be rash enough to accept his scandalous invitation.

 

[pink_silk_glove]

Jules let her be for the remainder of the opera and while it was a relief, Delphine could not keep him and his affections from her mind. Not daring to turn her head, oft the corner of her eye endeavored to discern his stance, partly to keep her defenses up but also definitely due to the yearning hollow that he had scooped out from her soul.

As the show let out, Maman turned to her for her opinion.

"How did you find the performance, ma biquette?" she asked. Delphine was her biquette, while Yvette was her colombe and little Christian was her loup.

"It was lovely," Delphine answered rather absently.

"Yes, well I though the music was good but the story was lacking, didn't you?"

"Hm?" Delphine perked, then recovered. "Uh, yes, I thought that the orchestra was enchanting as usual. The score was wonderful." The truth was that she could not comment on the story as she had been so distracted by the Comte de Lorraine's lack of distractions.

Just then, the Duc and Duchesse d'Anjou, approached to offer their regards. Relations of King Louis XIV himself, they were the most important people present. The Duc himself presented royally in his ricjh copper and gold brocade suit, yet it was his wife, the Duchesse Marie-Angeline, who was opulent in shades of purple silk, ample heavy bust gilt and jeweled. She stepped forward in her volume of chestnut ringlets showing their first hints of grey to greet Maman, and then in turn take Delphine by the hands.

"Congratulations," she gushed. "Such wonderful news. You shall make a splendid wife. You must be so happy."

"Thank you, m'Lady," Delphine bowed her head as she curtseyed. If the Duchesse knew, then everyone knew. The news was out. It had made everything so official. Furthermore, she was supposed to be happy, yet Delphine did not feel peals of joy in her heart that one might expect. The Comte de Guise was a man whom she did not know, or at least from what scant little that she did know he was hardly the man that she may have hoped would be dealt to her, the man that may have lived in her dreams.

Maman was on cloud nine accepting such high adulation. It felt like a strand of rope tightening about her wrists and ankles. With the Duchesse's attention turned back to Maman, Delphine was startled once more. Her head swiveled to catch Jules walking off, then glanced down into her hand at the slip of paper that he had pressed there. Balling it up tiny in her fist, she found a discreet moment to tuck it into one of the ribbons of her dress.

It seemed to take forever for the family to untangle themselves from teh pomp of the afterparty in the lobby. Maman especially was loathe to depart as she basked in all teh social glory. She only had two daughters and Delphine was her last chance to celebrate such an event, although when Christian came of age she would surely do her best to embellish the event as well.

Once home and in her chambers, Delphine quickly picked the note and slipped it into her bureau drawer before bidding her maids enter. They helped her undress as always but seemed to take forever. When she was finally in her night clothes and bade her attendants evening, she sat at her bureau until all was still but her pounding heart. Carefully slipping open the drawer, she took the note and unraveled it, spreading it flat with her fingers upon her bureau under the light of the candle. Her breath deepened as she read.

Mademoiselle de Courcy,
Would you do me the honor of meeting me tomorrow at noon in
the garden of Luxenberg.
Jules Batard Comte de Lorraine

He had invited her to meet him.

Having spent a largely sleepless night wondering about just why the Comte would want to meet her, the next morning Delphine in her lethargy tested Maman's patience. They had to go to Aunte Mathilde's as she was hosting a tea for the occasion of her engagement. She would not be able to visit the garden to find what Jules Batard wanted of her.

With her mind totally elsewhere, tea would have been savagely boring had it not been nervewracking with all of the gushing attention upon her. It would have been one thing to accept birthday gifts and greetings with a demuring blush but it was a whole other to tell so many friends and family just how wonderful it felt to be engaged to a man of such esteem while she really did not feel such wonder.

"Maman?" she asked in the study that evening. "What is he like?"

"Who?" Maman looked up from her needlepoint.

"Hugo," she said. When Maman gave her a quizzical look, Delphine elaborated. "Mon fiancé. Le Comte de Guise."

"He's a distinguished gentleman and a fine proper man," she dismissed and went back to her hobby.

"What does he look like?"

"I haven't seen him in some time," Maman explained.

"But he is older, no?" Delphine pressed. "He is a widower. He has children."

"You won't have to look after them if you do not want," Maman put down her needlepoint, mildly annoyed. "One of them is grown and already married."

"What is he like?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is he tender? Generous? Kind?" Delphine asked. "Or is her grumbly or?"

"Ma biquette," Maman sighed. "He is a Comte. He is a personal friend of King Louis. He has the manners of a perfect noble gent. You will be very happy."

The next day was Sunday. Again mass was a dull affair that could not hold her interest. She still had so many questions about her future and no answers, and all of that was veiled through her emotions that had been twisted so promiscuously by the inappropriate affections of Jules. Delphine could barely sit still. Towards the end, she thought about confession, about her thoughts, but wasn't sure just how terrible they were, although she knew that in some way they were improper. In the end she was too scared to speak them and skipped the booth.

"I would like to go to the garden," she told Maman on Monday morning. When her mother could only smirk and gesture out the window to the yard, Delphine elaborated. "Le Jardin de Luxembourg."

"Oh?" Maman perked up. "What is there?"

"Well, I've been feeling rather overwhelmed lately with the news and all," she explained. "You know how I like to play the piano there."

"All right," Maman shrugged. "Have Hortense hook the buggy and take you."

She would go play the piano in the garden but she could not ignore the wonder of whether or not Jules might be there. It was the wrong day and the wrong time, and he may not even still be interested after she had stood him up without a word. Of course, she felt that he had to know that she may have had a previous engagement and also no means of contacting him. There was hope for his forgiveness.

Hortense, the footman, prepared the horse and buggy and took her to le Jardin. On the west side there was a pavilion amidst the lawn. Beneath it was an intimate forum situated around a grand piano for anyone to play. Often artists played shows to small gatherings there, but just before midday Delphine was relieved to see that it was empty. Hortense helped her dismount and then led the horse to the fountain on the side as Delphine approached the piano.

Straightening the hems of her copper skirts, she sat herself on the bench and pulled back a stray tendril of her pinned up hair. Then lifting the cover, she placed her small fingers on the keys. At home, Delphine played the harpsichord almost daily, but it had been a few months since she had played the piano in le Jardin. The last time that she had come by, someone else was playing, a thin man who played wonderfully, far more skilled than herself. He had been alone but a small crowd had gathered to hear him nonetheless. Delphine arranged her fingers in fa-major and pressed, letting her bones soak in the magnificent brassy vibrations of the heavy strings. Even with the lid closed, the sound was awesome, far richer than her little harpsichord at home. She pressed again, firmer, creating a louder chord that pushed through her rose-embroidered bodice and oscillated her bust and heart. Then she moved to sol-major, then la-minor and finally ti-minor. Returning to fa-major, she repeated the four simple chords, and then again, developing a rhythm. After a few repetitions, she adding climbing extensions to each chord, just cycling through all four, her foot holding down the sustain pedal to let everything ring out. Her amateur fingers fumbled here and there. Usually she would inwardly curse herself for such errors, but this time she refused to spoil the moment. Her eyes closed and her head subtly nodded in time to the ascending cycle of sound.

 

[cgraven]

Jules Batard Comte de Lorraine was at the Jardin de Luxemburg the next day at the appointed hour. A half an hour passed and then an hour. The Comte de Lorraine waited an additional hour before reluctantly returning to his apartments in Montmartre. Jules’ preferred the artist and Bohemian endorsement far from the snobbery of the royal court. Jules had been certain that Mademoiselle Delphine de Courcy's interest had been peeked by their meeting at the opera, that he had surely tempted the lovely young beauty to keep the clandestine rendezvous that his brash and bold note had suggested.



Once more Jules Batard was seated at his table in the quaint coffee house around the corner from his apartments in Montmartre. His Paris Gazette, as usual, was filled with the latest gossip. It seemed that the Duc and Duchesse d'Anjou had been invited to a tea to celebrate Mademoiselle Delphine de Courcy engagement to the Comte de Guise. So that was why Delphine did not make the rendezvous that Jules’ was sure had peeked her interest and yet to send a note by messenger to the de Courcy residence would meet with the disapproval of Delphine's parents and their forbidding her to meet with the Comte de Lorraine, as Delphine was now engaged and such a meeting would be most inappropriate, not to mention scandalous.



Jules decided on another course of action. He would hire a man to watch the de Courcy residence, to follow Mademoiselle Delphine, and then report where she went and when. On Sunday his agent reported that the girl was at the Jardin de Luxemburg and playing the public piano. Jules called for his horse, as time was the essence if he was to accidently meet the girl. He instructed his hiriling to make sure that any of the girl’s chaperons were distracted and draw away from her.



Jules Comte de Lorraine was mounted on a black stallion. He wore no powered wig, and his riding habit was a simple and plain Guard’s officer’s uniform. Jules’ copper hair was tied back with a simple black ribbon “Mademoiselle de Courcy you play delightfully.” Jules’ boldly extended his hand to pull the young girl up on to the pummel of his saddle.



Would young Mademoiselle de Courcy take his boldly offered hand or would she flee to the sanctuary of her carriage.

 

[pink_silk_glove]

Delphine heard the clopping of hooves upon the stone but paid no mind. Horses were common in the park and she was enthralled by the awesome sound of the piano.

"Mademoiselle de Courcy, you play delightfully."

Her fingers stopped short at the commencement of la-minor and shocked, she turned to see Jules mounted there, his hand extended from the the bold red cuff of his blue guard's coat. Her face flushed. he had actually come to meet her.

"Comte," she addressed him, stood awkwardly, twisting herself as she rose from the bench. Then hastily straightened her skirts, bowed her head and curtsied. "To what do I owe cette plaisir?" she asked breathily as she humbly peered up at him, her small breasts heaving nervously in their embroidered bodice.

 

[cgraven]

"Comte," Mademoiselle Delphine de Courcy gasped in surprise, as she stood awkwardly, twisting as she rose from the bench. Delphine modestly and hastily straightened her skirts. The young beauty gracefully bowed her head and curtsied. "To what do I owe cette plaisir?" Jules Batard Comte de Lorraine nodded his head in response, he savored the pink tinge that kissed her cheeks as she humbly peered up at him, her small breasts heaving nervously in their embroidered bodice. “Cette plaisir? Bon mademoiselle " the Comte teased the young beauty.



His hand still extended, “A lovely morning for a gallop mademoiselle de Courcy. Will you join me?” the bold invitation was scandalous to say the least. Delphine’s chaperones were nowhere in sight, there was no one in the immediate vicinity. Jules leaned forward in the saddle his lips now just a breath away from the young beauty’s. “That is if you are daring enough mademoiselle de Courcy.” As he spoke his lips sensually brushed hers in a dark invitation to be bold and to throw caution to the wind.

 

[pink_silk_glove]

"A lovely morning for a gallop Mademoiselle de Courcy. Will you join me?"

His hand had not been withdrawn. Delphine eyed it suspiciously, and then looked about for her footman. The horse and buggy were tethered in the corner but Hortense was nowhere to be seen. She felt alone and cornered. Her attention with nowhere else to go, it turned back up to him as he leaned towards her on his mount, challenging her to accept. Her heart cowered in fear.

"Uh," she stammered weakly. "But where might we go?"

 

[cgraven]

Jules had leaned forward in his saddle, his hand still extended to the young strawberry blonde, Comet de Guise’s fiancé. Jules could see the apprehension in her pale grey-blue eyes as she searched for her absent chaperones. When she comprehended that her search was futile, Delphine turned back an looked up at him. Jules could see the fear in the young beauty’s eyes, yet there seemed to be something else there as well, something yet as undefined.



"Uh," Delphine stammered weakly. "But where might we go?"



Just that bold question hinted that this little blonde coquette may not be as innocent as she appeared. “Mademoiselle it is a glorious day for a gallop down by the river or even out into the countryside for a seclude picnic.”



Jules’ hand beckoned to Delphine, dared her to accept his scandalous proposition, and to through convention, not to mention caution, to the wind. Jules wonder whether young Delphine could be so bold as to accept his invitation.