Le Prescient

Chapter 1: The Revolution

February 8th 1896, Paris

The sun had just begun to dip below hazy purple clouds and the delectable scent of thyme and pastry wafted out of Le Maison Harding. Le Maison Harding was beautifully decorated for the evening; the portraits had been dusted, the table polished, the floor sparkling. At the exact moment the clock struck seven o'clock, Eric Harding raised a glass to his table of associates. "Let us celebrate the 20th anniversary of Le Prescient. Let us hope the coming year is just as successful, if not more so."

His toast was followed by enthusiastic cheers. Eric Harding, a tall, stocky man of nearly fifty years, was finally satisfied. Le Prescient, the newspaper he had founded twenty years ago in 1876, was booming. It was daring and influential, a feat never before so adeptly accomplished by a newspaper. Le Prescient had afforded Eric Harding both money and love—after all, it was how he had met his wife. The graceful, blonde Rosemarie Harding would very reluctantly admit that his rise in wealth and prominence was what had attracted her to him in the first place. Though she would also tactfully add that it was his charming nature that secured her position at his side.

Rosemarie took a sip of red wine before placing it back in the exact same position it was in before she had brought it to her lips. She wiped her mouth and looked to make sure Evangeline had done the same. Evangeline Lowell-Harding was a young woman of twenty-two years. Orphaned at the age of four, Evangeline was placed under the care of her Uncle Eric and his wife. The Hardings had brought her up as their own; it was unfortunate that they could not have children of their own, but such was the way of the world. Besides, Eric was happy to raise his niece. He felt he was paying some sort of homage to his dead brother and sister-in-law.

The dinner party was in full swing: a gathering of about twenty business partners and colleagues had congregated in Le Maison Harding to celebrate Le Prescient's twentieth anniversary. Exotic dishes had been brought out, accompanied by exquisite wines and foreign sauces. Crispy duck and rich cranberry sauce, roasted pheasant and creamy spinach, tender steak and sharp beetroot, flaky pastry and boiled carrots. Everyone was laughing and smiling, eating and drinking, sweating and smoking. Evangeline's attention was focused on the tall, lanky assistant of her uncle's. Charles Loquin did not have a memorable face, but what he lacked in beauty he made up for in wit and charm. He was seated across from Evangeline, and every so often their eyes would meet from across the table. The two did not look like the perfect match, but they were certainly besotted with one another.

"—and they told me I couldn't publish the story! Yes—I know! Ridiculous!" a woman cried. Some of the world's most prominent journalists and entrepreneurs were in this very room; people like Angelina Prescott, a woman much admired for her bold opinions and her status as perhaps the most influential female writer of the century. Finally, the conversation turned to notable names that were, in fact, not in the room.

"Who am I to next coerce into joining the revolution that is Le Prescient?" Eric mused. His question was met with laughter and the shaking of bemused heads. Charles perked up, his French accent heavy through his perfect English, "What about Hector Mercier?" Murmurs of agreement echoed around the table.

A bald-headed fellow nodded slowly, "Now, that is a golden name,"

"I met him once in England. Quite young but very talented," Angelina piped up.

"I've certainly heard great things," Eric said, pausing before turning to Charles. "How old is he?"

"Twenty-seven, sir," came the reply.

"Very young, yes..." Eric said slowly, thinking to himself. The rest of the table was almost-silent.

"How about it, then? A proposal?" Charles said, breaking the silence and pulling Eric from his reverie. "I'm sure Hector Mercier's contribution to Le Prescient will bring forth 'even greater things,'" he said, quoting his superior.

Eric took a swig of his wine. "And if he refuses?"

Charles face turned pink with an odd mixture of pride and embarrassment, "Just as we have heard of Hector Mercier's name, he will have heard of ours. He won't pass up the opportunity to work at Le Prescient," Charles hesitated. "Presuming he's given a position worthy of his rank, that is,"

Angelina smiled sympathetically at the red-faced assistant as Eric weighed his options.

After a long silence, Eric drummed his fingers on the table and said, "Very well," Excited chatter burst across the table. "Charles, arrange for us to return to England immediately. Soon we shall welcome the great Hector Mercier to Le Prescient," An explosion of clapping and delighted cheers rang throughout the room. With the addition of Hector Mercier, Le Prescient would be the most prevalent newspaper in all of England and France. An excellent start to Le Prescient's 21st year, no doubt.