The Angel’s Mistake: His Mistake

Danielle trembled with trepidation, but she knew she had to do something. Wriggling her wrist inconspicuously out of the captor’s tight grip on her waist, she tried repeatedly to reach her hair all the while the horse swerved and dodged the trees. Yes! She did it! Hurriedly, she slipped the sharp pin down the ribbon wrapped around her waist and waited for the most opportune moment to strike and escape. There was hope for her now!

Finally, the horses slowed to a halt, and Danielle, with hands clutching her forearms, headed towards the fire in the small clearing of the woods. A small ring of hooded gypsies sat there around the fire, looking up and leering at her approach.

“Welcome, Mademoiselle!” The leader of the gypsies raised his hands in welcome and stared at her directly with cold, black eyes. “I trust you had a pleasant journey?”

Danielle narrowed her eyes, her fear dissipating as her anger took its place. “It was pleasant enough, thank you.” She spat furiously, glaring at the leader.

The leader just cackled. “Ah, feisty… You have done a good job, Rémy.” The one called Rémy grinned to himself under his leader’s praise.

“The only good job there will be is when I get out of here and alert the soldiers of your presence!” This declaration was only met with jeering laughter and more cackling.

“She thinks she can escape us!” The leader said mockingly, as the rest of the gypsies howled in laughter. “Let me tell you, Mademoiselle, no one has ever escaped us before, and I do not think even a exceedingly brave lady such as yourself will be able to do it.”

“Do not spout words you do not mean, Monsieur.” Danielle declared, in a fantastic show of bravado. “And if no one has ever done it, then I will be the first.”

The leader sauntered closer to her, and Danielle suppressed the chills running down her spine. “I mean them, Mademoiselle, with every inch of my he–”

And that was when she plunged the pin into his arm. Howling in pain, he swiped at her furiously but she leapt away in time. It was as though everything was in slow motion from then on. Danielle, with her hair flying around in a red swirling mess and skirts hitched up, ran towards the shadow she had spotted earlier. She ran past the stunned gypsies and dodged the ones coming after her. Reaching the edge of the clearing, she took the hand held out to her and swung herself up on the horse, taking hold of Philippe’s coat securely as the horse bolted away.

Slowly, the sounds of her pursuers faded into the distance, and Philippe slowed his panting horse. In the darkness and silence, they made their way through the forest. Danielle’s heavy breathing evened out and she eyed the dark shadows suspiciously as if waiting for something to jump out at her. She clutched at Philippe’s coat, her assurance of safety in the dark night. Unconsciously, she started trembling, as the cold descended into the night.

Lost in her own thoughts, she was hardly aware that Philippe had stopped his mount and dismounted, changing places with her until she felt the warm covering of his cloak wrapping her shivering body.

The warmth was gratifying. Gradually, she felt his arms enclose around her and she could feel his heart beating in time to hers. An unidentifiable emotion surged through her – it was nothing she had ever felt before, not even when a gentleman, whose name she had forgotten, had give her his dying mother’s emerald.

“Cold?” Philippe murmured.

Danielle struggled to respond without her voice breaking in the attempt. “A little.”

With the hand that was not holding the rein, he reached out, albeit a little hesitantly, and rubbed her arms in a warming and reassuring fashion. Danielle, not thinking in the least, let out a sigh and instantly felt the blood rise up in her cheeks. Of all the things she could have done, she had to do the most undignified and inelegant thing of all!

Then, Philippe reined the stallion in and helped Danielle down. Looking around, she caught the sight of the rushing waters. She sat down near the water’s edge, chin resting on her bent knees.

The moon was the only source of light in the obsidian sky. The usual stars were hidden behind the grey masses as the willowy veil of the grey clouds shrouded a part of the moon in shadow.

Danielle was immensely confused. Never before had anyone invoke such feelings in her and to think that this intolerable halfwit were the one to do so! It was only in those poetic works of art did those people sing of the feeling of true love and such. Never did she think it would ever happen to her!

So that was that it was then? Love? And what about him then, did he hold any affection for her? Even if he were to have any feelings towards her at all, what about his cutting remarks? What was to be held accountable for that? And if, if he were to ask her to marry him, would she? She had always told herself that she would only marry the richest courtier she could find, but Philippe, Philippe was only someone who worked for the King. Oh dear, what was she to do now?

“Beautiful night,” he remarked, coming to settle beside her, eyes on the silver mirror of the waters.

“Yes,” she agreed, startled out of her thoughts. Danielle was not used to being confused. All this was like a path untrodden to her. Uncontrollably, she asked bluntly, “Philippe, do you… you have any… any feelings… towards me? Please – please tell me, in all honesty.”

His eyes, a dark onyx in the night, rested on her face unwaveringly and there was silence for a moment. “Perhaps I do…” Philippe stared at her, and then laughed.

Affronted, her forehead creased. “This is no laughing matter, Philippe. I am being serious here.” Danielle huffed. “Just tell me – I promise I will not take any offence to it – a yes or a no.”

“Why? Did you have a sudden epiphany and realised you are hopelessly and irrevocably in love with me?”

Danielle glared at him. “Do not tease me, Philippe”

“I am not teasing; just asking an innocent question.” Philippe defended himself staunchly.

Danielle was not having any of it. She had opened her heart to him and what did he do? Laugh it off as though it was some kind of joke. “Well then, I will leave you to think about the answer to your innocent question in peace.” She said wrathfully, gathering her skirts and standing up, slipping his cloak off. Ignoring the sudden chill, she prepared to march off when this time, Philippe unexpectedly held her wrist firm before she could move a single step away.

“Do you want to be captured by those gypsies again, dearest Danielle?” His eyes gleamed.

“I would rather be with the gypsies than with you, Monsieur.” Danielle snapped, trying to snatch her wrist back in vain.

“Is that so?” Philippe had that smirk on his face again, the one that always made her feeling a little uneasy, as though he was the hunter and she the prey. “Would you rather they kissed you then?”

Danielle gasped audibly. “Kiss me?”

“Yes, Mademoiselle. Would you rather I kiss you, or those dreadful gypsies who captured you? I heard the gypsy leader has not washed in days…”

Her eyes widened. “He has not?”

“Unlike what you think, my self-control, on the contrary, is far from perfect. Make your choice, Danielle, or I will make it for you.” Philippe was just inches away from her now, and without his cloak, she could feel the heat emanating from him and onto her chilled skin. His intense eyes locked onto hers, his grip on her arms, his scent swirling around her; Danielle was starting to feel light-headed and feverish.

“I – I…”

And that was when Philippe tugged on her wrist and pulled her towards him none too gently, his lips shaping themselves against hers.

-

Myriads of different shimmering colours dotted the palace, looking like colourful dots from where Danielle was standing. It was the day of the ball, and Philippe had told her to wait for him, saying that he had to inform her of something.

She rested her hands on the carved banister and sighed. It was weeks since the incident with the gypsies and she was well over it now. A new development in her life was that she had stopped attending any social gatherings, preferring to spend the evening with Philippe instead. Perhaps one day, when the time was right, she would confide in him of her ventures to feed her poverty-stricken family.

One day, perhaps…

Everything was so different now. It was strange, finding something she wanted more than various wonderful jewels. All her life, her only aim was to get as many gems as she could get, and it was disconcerting that her happiness when receiving the jewels were nothing compared to the joy and bliss she experienced when she was with Philippe.

Footsteps sounded behind her, and she turned around, hoping it was Philippe. It was. The mere sight of him made her heart pound faster and her head spin with giddy exhilaration all at once.

“Ah, there stands the keeper of my heart, captor of my mind, mistress of my soul…”

“Philippe,” she said breathlessly.

His lips curved into a crooked grin and before Danielle knew it, they were on hers, exultant and euphoric. The lightheadedness came back again, as he moved his mouth to whisper in her ear, his breathing as ragged as hers.

“I am inclined to think that you have missed me.”

Danielle laughed, gasping a little as she steadied herself by placing her hands on his shoulder. “You presume correctly.”

Philippe chortled. “Have you been waiting long?”

Danielle shook her head. “You said you wanted to inform me of something?”

“Yes,” he said, the smile fading a little.

His expression was most peculiar. It was one of strange anticipation, and the lights in his eyes were cautious and full of hesitation, worry, and hope. Philippe eyed her carefully, his face devoid of all emotion. Danielle watched in bewildered silence as his face paled in the dim lights.

“Well, what is it?” Danielle asked brusquely, the thick tension in the air getting too much for her to bear.

As nonchalantly as one could possibly be, Philippe slid down onto one knee, a glittering stone in hand. His looked up at her, his brown eyes astonishingly soft, and yet, scorching at the same time.

“Danielle Dumoulin?” His eyes seared through her, piercing through the very depths of her soul. “I pledge my love to you for the rest of the eternity to come. I promise to love you with all my heart, mind and soul. Would you, my dearest, do me the greatest honour of becoming my wife?”

Danielle was never one to be caught unawares. She could hear her heart thumping and uneven and jagged rhythm in her chest, her breaths coming out in short gasps.

Oh dear. Oh dear. What was she to do now? Which did she fancy more; true love or an infinite amount of jewels showered upon her?

Loud shrills of laughter erupted from the ball below, but she hardly heard it – everything was a whirl, and all her sights, sounds and thoughts disappeared, and for once, Danielle was lost to the world.

What was she to choose now: her heart or her mind?

Danielle gazed at the gentleman kneeling at her feet, and the surge of love for him went through her. His eyes, brimming with the depths of his love her… Oh, please do not let her make a mistake, please let her have no regrets…

“Yes,” she breathed, barely believing what she was saying. “Yes.”

All at once, his tense countenance relaxed, and he gazed back at her, all signs of his previous nonchalance suddenly slipping away, his face glowing brilliant in the moonlight with bliss and joy, an angel in all his glory.

His placed the ring on her finger and swept her off her feet, swinging her around and kissing her ardently.

Giddily, Danielle giggled. No, this could not be a mistake, she was sure of it. She loved Philippe and he loved her. Precious stones, jewels, they all did not matter to her now. Suddenly, a thought struck her, and she felt all the happiness draining rapidly out of her a mere moments.

How could he have known? She was sure… she had been careful about her name, her last name – the final puzzle to her true identity. She was positively sure she had not mentioned a word of it to him – come to think of it, when he asked her, she replaced her last name with one that of a friend and she remembered it clearly for she had felt uncharacteristically guilty about it…

Danielle felt him set her down gently, and she knew that he had sensed the change in the air.

Philippe drew her close. “What is wrong, dear?”

There was so much Danielle wanted to scream, to rage, to cry out her heart in fear and frustration – however, she did not. “How long have you known?” She said quietly.

He just let out a heavy sigh, knowing from the undercurrents of her voice what she truly meant. “Ever since I met you.”

Was this how all the gentleman felt when she had left them? Cheated, and all alone in the world? To have something dangled in front of her and snatched away when she chose to embrace it. “How?”

“Richard is not my acquaintance.” He confessed tonelessly, not looking at her anymore. “He is my footman.”

Danielle’s heart leapt to her throat. Footman? She was right. This was a mistake. No one had footman except the courtiers – Royalty, in other words. She was a fool. Her pounding heart stilled and clenched, tightly and agonisingly. And then it all clicked together in her head. No… it was not feasible…

“My father sent me abroad when I was just a boy. And just months ago, he requested that I return to take my place as King.”

No no no…

“But before that, I had to finish something first. There was some trouble stirring in the palace. People were talking about a charming young lady tricking all the respectable gentleman and I was to do something about it. I planned it very carefully, knowing the lady had one of the keenest minds in the century. Nothing must alert her suspicions against me. And so, Richard agreed to play my dying friend.”

Chill crept over her, and Danielle felt as though every part of her body was melded to the stone floor and she stood frozen, unmoving. And that she was a statuette, nothing more – unfeeling, unthinking, with her soul torn out of her. For the first time in her entire existence, she, Danielle Dumoulin, had been hoodwinked, deceived – and not only by a passing gentleman, but the gentleman she loved with all her heart. This was punishment for all her sins, she supposed – eternal suffering.

“Except, what I did not plan for to happen, was for me to fall unconditionally in love with the lady.” Philippe said slowly, raising his eyes to hers again. He grasped her icy hand desperately. “Danielle, everything that I spoke of before was not a lie. I love you for what you are, and what you were does not matter to me in the least. My heart will always belong to you – now, and forevermore.”

Danielle did not realised that tears were dripping silently down her cold face till Philippe reached out and brushed them away. She bit her lip. “Philippe…”

He hushed her tenderly, brushing his lips against her burgundy hair. “You need not say anything, dear.” Philippe kissed her cheek softly. “So,” he said as struggling to use a lighter tone after some time of quiet. “Do you still consent to be my wife?”

And with that, a huge smile reappeared on his face and his eyes glittered enticingly.

Danielle could not believe her fortune. Here she was, thinking she was going to lose the only gentleman she has ever truly love, and he was requesting for her hand in marriage yet again. The edges of her lips turned up slight, and she gave a small smile. She vowed she would make it up to him somehow…

Loss for words, it was all Danielle could do to nod.

Author's Note: Yes, the second and last part of 'The Angel's Mistake'. I hope you have enjoyed it. As said before, I really love this one - and not to boast, but I am so proud of this being published. You are more than welcome to leave reviews! Thanks!