Constant Companion (A 2011 The Three Musketeers Fanfiction)

Chapter Twelve

Gallantly, he offered me his arm. As I put my hand on his arm, I smiled at him. I knew he had manners, but this was a noble gesture. I wondered where he had learned it. Certainly, it couldn't be from his current companions, which only left...

“Tell me about your family,” I requested as we walked among the trees, breaking the silence. The moon was all the light we had. If either of my parents saw me now, I would be dragged back home and locked in my room. If my father didn't murder D'Artagnan and I first.

“I'm an only child,” D'Artagnan admitted, a little sadly. “My mother is the sweetest person you will ever meet though. She'd probably worry even more about me if she knew what I was up to now.” He grinned. “And my father used to be a musketeer. He taught me everything I know.”

And that, I assumed, was where he also inherited his courage. “They must be very proud of you.”

Shrugging, D'Artagnan looked up at the moon. Carefully, as if he wasn’t sure how I would react, he dropped his arm and, instead, entwined his fingers with mine. I smiled. Everything that had been weighing on my mind, the impossible mission in front of us, faded the farther we got from the inn.

“What did Athos say to you?” I asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between us. I had the feeling the former musketeer really wasn’t fond of me, and I had no idea why that would be. Its not as though we had ever met before, aside from passing each other whenever he and his friends were called in before the king.

Jerking, D’Artagnan glanced at me. “It doesn’t matter,” he answered, coming to a stop. He pulled on my hand to get me closer. “I don't really want to talk about him.”

He was going to kiss me. Suddenly nervous, I cleared my throat and tried to step back. “We’ll be missed,” I said, looking back.

“I’m pretty sure they are all well on their way to drinking every bit of alcohol in the inn,” D’Artagnan said with a chuckle. “They won’t miss us and no one else knows we’re even in the neighborhood.”

I wanted him to kiss me, and that scared me. In all the times I had been courted, men had tried to kiss me before. I'd even had my first kiss a couple years ago from a young lord who'd only been amusing himself. But kissing D'Artagnan had felt...right.

My head screamed for me to remember my position, my family, what was expected of a lady in waiting, what the consequences might be if I let this gone on much further. My heart, though, begged me to pull D’Artagnan closer and kiss him as I had in Paris.

Telling my head to take a holiday, I closed my eyes and waited. “Constance,” D’Artagnan whispered, so close to my face. “Am I still a simple country boy?”

I knew my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Yes,” I admitted honestly. Before I could add that I liked it that way, a cool breeze hit my face and I felt him step away.

“I am?”

“Why do you have to bring that up?” I demanded, my eyes opening. “It doesn't matter anymore. Everything I said before-.”

“Are you playing games with me?”

My pleasure at the moonlit light was fading quickly into anger. “What?” I hissed, glaring at him. I moved to shove past him.

“Constance!” D’Artagnan exclaimed, grabbing my arm.

“Let go of me!” I ordered. “How dare you ask me such a question?”

“Why are you getting so defensive?” D’Artagnan fired back sharply. “Back in Paris. The kiss. It was all a way to manipulate me into doing what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

A twinge of guilt hit. When I had kissed him, I’d hoped he would do anything I asked. Even if my heart had been involved, it had been manipulative thinking that made me act as I had. “It doesn’t matter what I say,” I snapped. “You’ve already made up your mind about it.” Realization hit. “That’s what Athos was saying to you. He was warning against me!”

“So it is true!”

“You think that of me? You think I would go around kissing men just to get what I want? You are obviously not the man I thought you were!” Tears were welling in my eyes, whether from disappointment or anger, I couldn’t tell. “Go back to Paris then! You and your friends!”

His grip tightened. “Let me go,” I demanded.

Instead, he pulled me closer and crushed my lips under his. Everything else vanished and it became just D’Artagnan and I. The feeling of rightness returned. When D’Artagnan lifted his head, he said softly, “No. I don’t think you’re that kind of girl, Constance.”

“What kind of girl?” It took a few seconds for my brain to catch up. “Oh. Well, that’s good,” I said lamely. “Its just…I have my family to think of, D'Artagnan. I have a brother and sister younger than I. I have parents. As lady in waiting to the queen, I am expected-.” I broke off, trying to find the words. What was expected of me?

None of the other ladies in waiting followed any sort of rules. Nicolette had no loyalty to Queen Anne, spying on her for the cardinal. Over half of the other girls flirted with every man in court. Even the ones who had accompanied the queen from Spain reported back to the Spanish courts.

“You didn't actually finish that sentence.”

“Oh, right,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, D’Artagnan.”

“So am I,” he answered. “I just had to be sure. Don’t be mad at Athos. A woman broke his heart, I think. You heard him earlier.”

Right. I was furious with the former musketeer. “Is that so? What happened?”

D’Artagnan sighed. “I’m not sure,” he said. “None of them will talk about it.” He took my hands in his. “I’m sorry, Constance.”

Oh, yeah. I forgave him, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “We should go back now,” I said, pulling my hands free.

“All right.”