Nicolette shook her head, "You are a twisted, depraved monster, and only a fiend would have done those things." She took a ragged breath then searched John Pierre’s gaze for a flicker of remorse, "I saw the painting, and it clearly shows the distress on Madeleine’s face and the tears." Nicolette felt her stomach churn at the thought, "She was screaming! Mon Dieu, what a hideous monster you are inside. Where did you find an artist to paint such a thing? He must have been just as insane."
John Pierre smiled lazily, "Thank you, my dear. My skills as an artist are quite good. Indeed, she was sobbing and begging for mercy." John Pierre’s gaze moved to hers, "But, I must apologize. That painting was not intended for your delicate eyes, Genevieve. No my dear, you should never have seen it. I admit I had her too, but it was a small diversion, one meant only to keep my mind from you. Yet you must understand, I am no monster, she enjoyed it."
"No woman enjoys violation, and you did so much more to her. Tell me, do you have the same planned for me? Will I soon grace a painting"
"Genevieve!" John Pierre’s loud voice shook.
She tossed her hair back defiantly, "Again, I remind you that I am not Genevieve. I am her daughter and your niece. My name is Nicolette. It distresses me to be forced to remind you of that once more, Uncle. I tire of your idiocy, your cruel insanity, and your twisted desire. You killed my mother. You killed Genevieve."
"Hush child, you must not anger me."
Nicolette shivered. His voice was cold as ice, while his eyes burned with a demented brilliance.
"I have mourned your loss these many years Genevieve, but now we have a second chance. Do you not see? You have been reborn, and this time things will be different. You will choose me. The title is now mine, the chateau and lands, and even more. Now I bring so much more to this marriage."
Nicolette gasped, "Marriage? Only this evening you said you do not wish marriage. Have you changed your mind, or lost it?"
"Indeed, perhaps it seems to be the case. However, I believe it might be in my best interest, legalities you know. By the way, I bring the lands of the de Berges to you as well. Yes, my dear, the de Berges lands are now mine. I have become his legal heir. Everything signed and approved by the King to be instated upon Philippe’s death. A fitting revenge, and so complete, do you not agree? I have planned so very well! I took everything from the Marquis. His life, the lives of his children, his unborn grandchildren, and now their estates!" He laughed gleefully. "I arranged each detail so very carefully. First your husband died and then your son." John Pierre looked suddenly confused, "No, no, that can’t be right. It must have been first my father and then your husband," He shook his head. "No, well that’s not right either." He paused, then walked to the bedpost, and stood gazing down for several moments. "Now, I remember. First father’s death, then my brother’s, and now my nephew to the Bastille," John Pierre smiled. "Yes that is it! Every detail has been carefully planned, even down to our wedding night my dear. I have dismissed the servants so that our first night together will be undisturbed and completely memorable."
"You are insane," Nicolette felt the shiver of fear rush down her back. For a moment she wanted to believe this was nothing more than a terrible nightmare that would be soon over, but when she looked up the terrifying reality remained.
"Genevieve, I had hoped to avoid this, but if I must beat you, I will. You must be a willing bride." He sighed." "Now, I order you to quit saying such vile things."
"Uncle, there has been no wedding ceremony," stepping backward, Nicolette’s fingers once more wrapped tightly around the candlestick. Anticipation of his first move caused fear to pour through her veins like liquid fire. Her chin went up and her fear seemed to still. She would hit him and he would fall unconscious and if not, she would fight him to the bitter end if necessary.
"No indeed, but there will be later. We don’t need a ceremony, my dear. We’ll ask for the church’s blessing later. I will not delay this any longer." He looked at her bodice when he spoke, "You are so lovely. The white gown is virginal. Although, I must say since you’ve grown older your figure has improved decidedly."
"So now I am once again Nicolette?" she whispered.
"Nicolette?" He smiled again. "Genevieve, what game do you play?"
He looked at her bodice then looked back into her eyes, "Quite delicious, really!"
Fear began to pierce through to her very soul. With each step he took, her breathing became more difficult, but she said nothing. Words of any kind now were an insanity of their own. It was impossible to reason with a madman.
He was only a few feet from her when he suddenly rushed forward. She raised the candlestick, holding it with both hands she swung it toward his head with all her might.
John Pierre’s eye widened, and at the last moment he jumped back. She caught him on the shoulder, he yelped, but managed to grab the candlestick and jerk it away as he crumpled to one knee.
She could see the anger ignite in his one deadly, gray eye, and for the second time she saw something terrifying in their depths. She retreated and desperately looked around the room for another weapon. He lunged toward her again, but she deftly jumped away then rolled across the bed to the other side of the room. She screamed, panicking she reached for the doorknob, but he was soon behind her. He grabbed her and pulled her around to face him. His fingers bit painfully into her wrist as she struggled to get away.
His hand moved to his eye-patch and he lifted it for her to see. Nicolette cringed at the hideously scarred eye.
"Was it not enough that you did this?" He pulled her slowly to him and sneered. "I loved you and you maimed me. I tried to understand that you were a frightened, young virgin then, but here we are again and you continue to fight," he grabbed her by both shoulders. "You shall pay for this tonight, and more, far more."
He slapped her across the face with the full force of the back of his hand. She flew across the room like a rag doll. Blood oozed from a cut on the side of her mouth as she landed against the wall. He walked toward her, stopping long enough to unbutton his waistcoat. She rose to her feet then ran to the window. Her fear suddenly mingled with anger. She decided that whatever else might happen, she would fight. Her hands balled into fists at her side, as she prepared for his advance.
He removed his waistcoat, pulled off his cravat, and loosened his shirt.
Nicolette stood near the dressing table, picked up a china figurine and threw it. Surprised, John Pierre ducked and then withdrew a few steps.
"I will punish you for this defiance."
"Your touch alone is punishment enough for me. You repulse me!" Nicolette threw a hand-mirror at him, striking his knee.
John Pierre bellowed, "Damn you! If it is a fight you wish, then you shall have one." He advanced again, limping.
Nicolette threw a brush, then a comb, then small bottles. She opened the drawers, and threw a small tray filled with beautiful combs.
"I bought those just for you, from the jeweler to the King. They are made with the finest gold and gems in Paris. Do you appreciate me so little?"
"You bought them for my dead mother. You madman!" she threw a dressing gown that landed on his head. When he pulled it away, his gray wig slid sideways, and lay crooked on his head for a moment, then fell to the floor. Now he truly did look the complete maniac, with the few remaining strands of his black and gray hair sticking straight up in thin spikes.
"And you’re a bitch!" the shrill words violently rent through the air. He took a deep breath. His next words were quietly spoken, "I am the Marquis de Noilles. Never forget that! I have everything you wanted, a title, money, land, and still you fight me?" He sounded confused then smiled, "Ah, I see. I am sorry I did not understand before. You like to fight! You enjoy the pain." John Pierre laughed. "Certainly, my dear, after this struggle I can surely accommodate you."
Nicolette cringed and her stomach churned, "You have to be the most insane, most corrupt man that ever lived if you think that to be true, Uncle. You must have
sold your soul to the devil himself to be so depraved."
She launched a small porcelain bowl filled with powder. It hit him in the cheek, the white dust spilling over his chin, then down his shirt and pants.
He screamed with fury and rushed toward her. Nicolette kicked the chair over in front of him but he deftly missed falling.
He grabbed her skirt and held fast. The ripping sound of the material gave her chills, and her fear made each sound seem crisp. She kept moving, but with each step the gown kept splitting, tearing away, until suddenly she was free but at a terrible cost.
Her uncle stopped dead, gazing at her. Nicolette looked down to see an entire side of her skirt gone. The only thing covering her upper thigh was the sheer chemise.
She looked up and saw him lick his lips as his gaze moved slowly from her waist down her leg and up again, finally resting on her bodice.
"You, my dear, are delicious. Perhaps this game of yours is worth every moment," he smiled. "You have beautiful, long slender limbs, and your derriere is delightful." his gaze darted back to hers. He licked his lips again.
Nicolette was desperate, she ran toward the dressing table and grabbed another candlestick, raising it above her head has he approached slowly.
He laughed, "I like your little game. By the time we are finished you will be quite naked and at my mercy. It is tantalizing. You were so right to think I might like this, Genevieve. I could not have planned this better myself."
She shook her head, "I am not Genevieve."
Her uncle laughed again, "I know, dear niece. Trust me, I know. I had her killed years ago because she refused me. I did not mean to, of course, but it matters not. Your young, fresh, untouched body is more to my liking at any rate. I would have taken you some time past except my plans were thwarted when your brother returned from America. I could hardly kill a "hero", and you were so very young then. I have waited very patiently for you to grow up."
"You have known all along that I am not Genevieve?"
"I admit that sometimes you look so much like your mother that I forget, but I do know who you are. You see I wanted her badly, but she would not have me. I was the younger brother. She only wanted the title and my brother had that!"
"Don’t be ridiculous, she was an aristocrat herself, and if she loved you the title would not have mattered!"
Her uncle laughed, "The title was the only thing that mattered!" He touched his eye, "She did this you know. The night before the wedding I visited her in her room, and she did this!"
His face flushed bright red.
"You did this to my mother? You tried to rape her?"
John Pierre smiled, "It would have been the greatest revenge of all, to pass on soiled goods to my brother, but he too came to her room that evening. Of course when that failed I kidnapped her in the wee hours of the morning, just before the wedding. The family thought I had left the estate the evening before. It was quite amusing. We were at the footbridge when she was able to twist free. She jumped from my horse, and tried to run, but I caught her. She would have been mine except for the Marquis de Berges."
Nicolette was confused. "Are you mad?" she whispered. How could he be perfectly lucid one moment, yet deranged the next? "Perhaps you are simply evil, more evil than anyone else alive."
Her uncle laughed, "Evil. I like that. I do like that, I have often been called a devil by women, and especially by Madeleine. I live for depravity my dear. It is the only thing left that gives me pleasure."
He picked up the fallen candlestick and stepped closer. Nicolette swung her candlestick at his head, but he used the one he had picked up like a sword, knocked it back with his own, then grabbed her wrist and twisted it backward.
She screamed from the excruciating pain and dropped the candlestick. With his other hand he grabbed the top of her bodice and it ripped to one side, the tatters nearly exposing her breast.
He licked his lips and pulled her toward him, "Indeed I do enjoy this game. With Madeleine it was quite different. I drugged her you see, and she woke just as we were about to begin. She fought but she was weak from the drugs and quieted soon. Each of us had her as many times as we wished, in any manner we wished," John Pierre smiled. "You see, none of the others realized that Madeleine was part of the nobility, they thought her a common trollop."
John Pierre’s insane laughter echoed, "I thought the painting was a nice touch, and it helped me immensely in my career. Threatening to ruin those involved was quite profitable. You see the King would have considered defiling an aristocrat far beyond the pale, and each man there was terrified of the consequences. One of them helped me rise to the position of King’s primary advisor, and another still pays me quite a nice stipend every year. One gentleman in particular feared that the knowledge of such a lewd, dreadful game would cause his father’s death and his families disgrace. He has served me since. Indeed he is my lackey and does my bidding each and every day. I wanted a remembrance, and was sure they would too, so I gave a memento to each participant, and of course I gave one to her. I do love to paint. I have even more scenes in the dressing room of that night, some that I was saving for Philippe, but now I get to keep them for myself. I can show you later."
His evil laughter erupted again, "You see, when Madeleine became pregnant, she truly did not know the identity of the father. It could have been any one of us. I did not really lie. It suited my purpose to spread stories that Laurent was the father, and that he was far too unscrupulous to marry her. Trust me, it proved to be vastly amusing," John Pierre frowned. "Until my brother interfered, at least. He had the proof of my involvement. It was then I planned his demise."
Nicolette felt horror begin to penetrate as he pulled her toward him.
"You did not drink the tea, did you? It was to help you relax, but it will simply be a little more strenuous than I expected," he smiled. "Now, I tire of the game, my dear. I long to see you’re beautiful body and plant my seed deep within you. Perhaps you too will become pregnant then what shall we do?" One eyebrow rose, "My brother’s own child, pregnant with my seed. I like that! I do enjoy revenge."
She fought him, hitting with her free hand until he grabbed that and yanked it behind her, then kicking him until he pulled her tightly against his body.
He shook her, "Cease!"
She continued to struggle. He shook her, until she thought she would faint.
"Quit this at once. I have won your game! Now submit to mine," he pulled her roughly against his body and kissed her, then bit her lip, and she shrieked. "I thought you liked it rough, so rough it shall be." his mouth moved down toward her breast, and Nicolette knew that this was her one last chance. Her struggles ceased.
"Ah, so you are enjoying this! I knew you could not resist me long."
He released one hand, and she put it behind his head as his lips moved lower. Then he released her other hand, and she moved her thigh slowly up his body.
He looked up surprised, "You will be quite amusing, my dear." Then his head again moved downward.
Nicolette’s hand moved slowly over her thigh as the remnants of her skirt fell away. Her fingers slowly circled the handle of the dagger. She withdrew it, ever so gently from the sheath. Her hand moved to his back and inching ever higher. She took a deep breath, moving her other hand behind his neck. She grabbed his hair and jerked his head backward. She drove the dagger down, catching him on the cheek, ripping his skin in a jagged cut.
He screamed and scrambled backward, causing her to fall. She righted herself then stood with her back against the bedpost.
He was wild with rage. "You bitch! First you do this!" his fingers moved to his eye. "Then scar me again Genevieve?" He looked at her hand, "And with the same dagger."
The demonic hatred she saw in his gaze terrified her, "This is grandmother’s dagger. It came with her from the Highlands, when she came with Bonnie Prince Charlie. It has protected the women in our family for many years. They say that one of our ancestors was a witch and she invoked a spell, one
that helps us to fend off evil. And you are evil, Uncle. How else could my mother and I use the same dagger against you." Nicolette’s voice shook, yet she hoped the story convincing.
He hesitated, then one eyebrow lifted. "Indeed." John Pierre laughed the madness in it shrill and horrifying.
"Now there will be no mercy." His voice was a deep, menacing whisper, "And when I am done with you, I will have another special evening. What I did to Madeleine will seem like a tea party." He smiled and started toward her, "Now you will be punished. Soon, you shall understand that you are mine alone, at least until I tire of your charms. When I am done with you I shall take you to the Bastille. Yes! I shall tell them you are a common harlot and let the guards have you!"
Nicolette jumped back as he lunged. Desperate for escape she grabbed his waistcoat off the bed as she ran but dropped it as she fumbled for the key. In her panic, she ran toward the window and screamed, then turned to watch his advance. She was cornered. The bed was on one side of her, the window on the other, and a chair in-between.
Nicolette took a deep ragged breath. This was it then. Hot tears trailed slowly down her cheeks, her vision became blurred yet her resolve hardened. "I will never submit to you." she whispered, then made a final decision. If all else failed she would rather die. She had the satisfaction of seeing bright, red blood dripping from his face onto the white shirt and pooling at the top of his huge stomach. He lunged again. She caught him in the shoulder with the dagger, knocking over the small table. He fell against the window sash driving the dagger deep.
"Gourville!" he screamed. His shaky hand touched his shoulder, disbelief filled his eyes and with a groan he slid to the floor.
Nicolette skirted around then reached down and grabbed the waistcoat. She took the key and ran to the door. Looking over her shoulder as she flung the door open. As she ran out all she saw was blood and she felt her veins turn to ice.
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