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#marguerite st. just
kwistowee · 11 months
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Anthony Andrews & Jane Seymour THE SCARLET PIMPERNEL (1982) Dir. Clive Donner
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The brilliant thing about The Scarlet Pimpernel is that on the surface, Sir Percy Blakeney is an idiotic fop, but on a deeper level, he's a brilliant mastermind. But on an even deeper level, he is in fact an idiotic fop. The man delights in dumb poetry and cares about cravats with a burning passion that is only rivaled by how absolutely MAD he is for his wife.
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muse-write · 2 years
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More Scarlet Pimpernel fanfiction because I’m obsessed with them.
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Over the past three years of a happy marriage (discounting that one first tumultuous year), Marguerite had almost gotten used to her husband returning home with new injuries, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t feel her heart stop each time he stepped out of his carriage with a wince or a hastily-disguised limp.
Now, on a bright Sunday afternoon, she watched Percy closely as he emerged into the sun from the covered coach. The bruise discoloring his eye and much of his cheek was difficult to miss, but she was relieved that his walk was just as steady and confident as ever. The smile he gave her was lopsided and pained, but genuine.
“Marguerite,” Percy murmured, reaching out for her. She threw her arms around him just as readily, and they stood there in the pathway for a long moment. Marguerite laid her head against his chest and savored the way it rose and fell, because he was alive and breathing and in her arms, and he set his cheek upon the top of her head and nuzzled into her hair.
Finally he pulled away, his English aversion to sentiment apparently getting the best of him, but he kept his arm threaded through hers as they headed into the house. He was oddly quiet, and Marguerite wondered if it had more to do with the mission he’d finished or the pain his face probably gave him every time he spoke.
She found herself eyeing that mark, reaching all the way from his eyebrow across his eye to just past his cheekbone. She was glad the servants were busy in other areas of the house. “What are we going to do about that one?” she murmured to him.
Percy shrugged, his easygoing gaiety flowing back into him with the movement. “No idea. Powder is stylish at the moment, and good for us, too; that should cover most of it and I won’t even have to start a new trend.”
“But not all of it.” No amount of face powder, pale and smoothing as it was, would ever be able to obscure that dark, purpling bruise spread across her husband’s face. “Where did you get it anyhow?”
“A fall from a bridge.” He smirked a tiny bit when she stopped in her tracks and gaped at him. “It was from a very small bridge, into a ship carrying hay bales,” he clarified. “Zounds, lady, you’d think I was reckless! I took all the necessary precautions but I just missed grasping the hair of Chance. The hale bale was a little to the left of my face, but the side of the ship had better aim.”
“You’re lucky you didn’t shatter your face,” Marguerite groused, and led him into their bedroom—it had been his until a scarce few months ago, when she decided she was using it more than her own. “And then were would your poor wife be? ‘Used to be the wife of the handsomest man in England’, everyone would say. ‘A bit foggy on the details, though’, and rumor would run amok.”
Percy almost laughed, but only managed a chuckle and a pained gasp. His eyes smiled at her.
“Oh…” Marguerite observed the bruise a bit more closely. “I won’t joke anymore, I’m sorry. We can cover it with powder,” she continued firmly, “and maybe rouge, too, but only a little. As for the rest, well…is the old horse story too worn out?”
Percy nodded definitively, raising his hands to his cravat, where he began untying it. “If we tell it again everyone will start thinking that Tony really is the better rider and where would I be? You’re thinking of your reputation, m’dear, and I must think of mine. No, not the horse again.” His eyes gleamed. “A fall down the stairs? Perhaps while I was tying my cravat and storming up some new poetry? I’m sure I can think of a few lines right now.”
Marguerite huffed, and helped him out of his coat. “I don’t know that the court thinks you’re that much of an idiot, my love.”
He stared at her in what she suspected was only half-joking affront. There was a particular gleam to his eyes that said he’d found a challenge for the taking. “I’ll show you, dear heart, how much of an idiot this English court can find me. If I tell them I got this bruise tying my cravat and coming up with poetry, I promise they’ll be too busy laughing and quoting it back to me to think anything of it. ‘Ah, that Percy Blakeney!, they’ll say, ‘somehow he caught the cleverest woman in Europe! Feel right sorry for her, I do!’ I’ll do it so well that even you’ll be joining in on it.”
It was a joke, but Marguerite felt her heart plummet. “Don’t say that,” she pleaded, adding a kiss to his jaw for good measure. “It wasn’t so long ago, you know, that I did think those things about you.”
Percy’s eyes softened, and he wrapped his arms around her again. “Oh, ‘f course I won’t, dear heart,” he murmured. And then the teasing measure came back into his voice as he brushed his lips against her ear. “Although I wouldn’t mind you showing me just how far you’ve come in your regard for me.”
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nicoleclowes · 1 year
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They seek him here, they seek him there, those Frenchies seek him everywhere. Is he in heaven, or is he in hell? That damned, elusive Pimpernel. 🌹 A birthday drawing for my lovely twin sister 🌹
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knitepercival · 2 months
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Tiny cuter versions of them~ ❤️🥹
(Individual ones under the cut ✨)
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egglygreg · 2 months
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Sooo, I’ve almost finished listening to the audiobook of The Scarlet Pimpernel
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darcylightninglewis · 10 months
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@pscentral event 18: adaptations
They seek him here, they seek him there. Those Frenchies seek him everywhere. Is he in heaven or is he in hell? That demned elusive Pimpernel!
The Scarlet Pimpernel (1982) as the film poster, playbill & book cover.
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rtbyg · 30 days
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what do you guys know about the scarlet pimpernel 1982 and/or the patriot 2000….
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margueritestjusts · 23 days
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finally got pulled out of art block
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jupiterlandings · 1 month
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“Hand in my hand
And you promised to never let go,
We're walking a tightrope.
High in the sky,
We can see the whole world down below,
We're walking a tightrope;
Never sure, will you catch me if I should fall?”
Character Aesthetics:
Marguerite St Just,
The Scarlet Pimpernel
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Jane Seymour as Marguerite St Just
The Scarlet Pimpernel 1982
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demon4dilfs · 6 months
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every judas once loved a jesus
The Scarlet Pimpernel Original Broadway Cast, 1997
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starshipstories · 3 months
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there were no scarlet pimpernel Percy x Marguerite edits so I have made one myself. sadly... i don't know of anyone else who will appreciate it. sending this edit out into the void in hopes of finding fellow shippers...
you can also watch it on youtube
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muse-write · 2 years
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Reading nearly two books in the Scarlet Pimpernel series just hammers in the horrible fact that Marguerite simply wants to live a peaceful life with her husband and no one will let her.
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cressida-jayoungr · 11 months
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One Dress a Day Challenge
June: Weddings
The Scarlet Pimpernel (1982) / Anthony Andrews as Sir Percy Blakeney and Jane Seymour as Marguerite St. Just
Another well-coordinated wedding pair! I love the embroidery on Percy's lapels, and of course his neckerchief is beautifully arranged, with a jeweled pin to fasten it.
It's always a bit amusing to see hair ornaments in the tall 18th-century women's hairdos. Compare Keira Knightley in The Duchess, here.
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knitepercival · 9 months
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We all are caught in the middle
Of one long treacherous riddle
Of who trusts who, maybe I’ll trust you
But can you trust me?
Wait and see!
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