The cellar was cold and dark compared to the rest of the château. The only room with any windows to let some of the last remaining daylight trickle in was the vast kitchen. The group of five congregated around an old a very worn oak table in the middle of the room. Amorette and D'artagnan had found nothing of consequence in the downstairs rooms and the same could be said for the others. Now, they were all trying to decipher what to do next. Amorette's eyes caught on the burn marks and knife indents of the old table in front of her as she zoned out of the conversation. Many times she had engraved her name into this table with a sharp object as a child but there was no trace of the markings now. They had all been chipped away. She wondered vaguely if that had been requested by her uncle. Suddenly she was sorely tempted to get onto her hands and knees to check the underside of the great table to check for markings. Amorette resisted though. She pushed the table and it's markings from her thoughts and looked back up to find all four musketeers looking at her. "Sorry?" Amorette questioned, realising only too late that one of them had asked her something.
At once they all donned sympathetic smiles. "We were asking who it was that you travelled here with." Aramis murmured from the opposite side of the table.
"My companion Elise and her husband John," confirmed Amorette. "But only as far as Provins. They were in England with me for a time and wanted to visit family whilst we were back in France. It seemed only logical to me to leave them with family and travel on here." Amorette watched a notion of irritation flicker across Athos' face for a second before it was gone again. She braced herself for a lecture about traveling alone but it never came. Athos seemed to have thought better of it due to the current situation.
"Staying with them tonight is out of the question then," muttered Aramis. "We'll have to head back to the inn soon if we want to be sure of getting rooms for the night. Why don't we leave now and carry on our search tomorrow morning?"
Amorette's head whipped around to look at him. The thoughts of having to muster up the courage to come back to the house all over again the next day terrified her. "Or we could stay here?" she suggested. Amorette turned and dashed to the larder behind her and was met with the sight of some fresh meat and vegetables. "There's not a great variety of food but there's enough to do something with it, and I don't need to check the wine cellar to know that there will be wine. There's more than enough room for us all."
"I suppose that would be more beneficial for us," nodded Athos, "But if you'd rather not stay the night Mademoiselle then we will certainly retreat to the village."
"Actually..." Amorette almost lost her train of thought as she realised that she would indeed be uncomfortable staying in the house overnight, but the thought of being able to leave it tomorrow and never return outweighed that. "I'd rather do what we need to do and then leave knowing I don't have to come back."
"That's settled then," Porthos said as he threw his arms wide.
Athos, Aramis and D'artagnan nodded their agreement. "Let's check these cellar passageways before we do anything else though," suggested D'artagnan and moved towards the doorway.
"I'll stay here," said Porthos, nodding towards Amorette as he removed his doublet and slipped it onto the back of a chair. He perched on the edge of the table as Athos and Aramis followed D'artagnan out of the room. Amorette retreated to the larder again and brought the food out with her. After that she walked the length of the room in search of a large cooking pot. Finding one, she began to make her way back across the room towards the stove. Amorette came to an abrupt halt as she passed the table again when a memory stirred in her mind. Setting the pot on the table, Amorette crouched down to look at the underside of the table-top. More markings had been chipped away from there as well. Amorette followed the grain of wood to the very edge where the joins of the table leg and table-top met and sure enough, in the very corner there was a marking that had been missed entirely. "What is it?" Porthos asked from behind her.
Amorette moved to her left a little so that Porthos was able to crouch beside her. Pointing to the wooden carving of her own name, Amorette turned to smile at him. "For a long time I've known that my uncle tried to eradicate any history of my being in this house, it seems that he failed."
A chill had descended upon the chateau within an hour or two of the sun going down. Amorette had decided that the best use of the food she had found would be a stew of sorts. "It's nothing much. I simply used what I could find," said Amorette as she placed the steaming pot of stew on the table and everyone ladled their own portions into bowls. They ate in silence, seated along the wooden benches that surrounded the table and Amorette's thoughts were drawn back to that morning when she had found the body of the man on the road. She was unsure of just what his part was in all of this, but Amorette knew that his death, mere miles away and in the same fashion as her cousin's was no coincidence. She pushed the dregs of her simple stew around the bowl as her appetite vanished.
"For being 'nothing special' that was pretty good!" Porthos announced as he presented an empty bowl. Amorette smiled her thanks and pushed her own away slightly. When everyone else had finished eating and the fire had been doused with a bucket of cold water they all retreated upstairs. Stepping into the hallway again, the drop in temperature was pronounced with five sharp intakes of breath. Amorette would have much preferred to stay in the cosy kitchen in the cellar but the musketeers had expressed their apprehension of such a plan and their want of a position in which they could see the road leading to the house through a window; and so they found themselves on the way to a small dining room. Amorette couldn't understand what the musketeers hoped to see as she stared out at the inky black sky beyond the house but with all four men in agreement she would have felt rather foolish in arguing. With a fire newly lit and candles burning everyone began to settle into seats around the table. Athos approached a sideboard and began searching cupboards.
"It's over there." Amorette muttered with a gesture of her hand towards a large cabinet against the wall. Not needing to ask what it was he had been searching for, Amorette was not surprised when after a few seconds the thud of a decanter hitting the table surface came to her ears followed by fine crystal glasses. Still standing in the middle of the room, Amorette's gaze landed on the portrait hanging above the fireplace. Just as Porthos, the last of the musketeers still standing began to pull out a chair a shiver ran down Amorette's spine. Pulling an old dust sheet from a chaise longue in the corner she approached the fireplace in full knowledge that she wasn't tall enough to be able to cover the portrait.
"Cover that up would you?" Amorette nodded towards the portrait and handed the dust sheet to Porthos. "We don't need him staring down at us!"
"Who is he?" Porthos asked curiously as he gently draped the painting.
"My great uncle Schubert... " Amorette turned back to the table to find Athos pouring brandy. "Odious man!" she added as an afterthought.
"He was Charles' grandfather?" Athos asked. "I don't believe I ever met him."
"But surely-" For a few seconds Amorette was lost in her thoughts. "Oh sorry, I keep forgetting that you weren't at Charles' wedding. Those days all seem to blur into one lengthy memory now. You should count yourself among the lucky then, never to have met him."
A harmonized "why?" from D'artagnan and Aramis had Amorette cursing herself for even bringing the portrait up in the first instance. Her male relatives and their misdemeanours were not something she was desperate to discuss.
Sighing heavily she began. "My father and great uncle Shubert never really saw eye to eye which if I'm honest, amused me greatly. Great uncle Shubert was Prussian and had barely learned French let alone English. He thought that English was an archaic and repulsive language and told my father so upon their first meeting. Thus a dislike was founded. Ironically it was just about the only thing my father and I could ever agree on. Uncle Shubert was not a pleasant man, and he was here very little but his influence was always discernible. He had harboured a certain affliction that he passed onto his son Phillipe, who was Charles' father." When all four men continued to look at her blankly she was forced to expand her explanation. "Both great uncle Shubert and uncle Phillipe had a terrible case of wandering hands where young women were concerned." As comprehension dawned upon their faces Amorette was suddenly aware that the topic of conversation put her forward for some unpleasant interrogation and so before the musketeers had a chance to dwell upon anything that she had said, she swiftly changed the subject. "What about the man we found on the road this morning? I cannot get it out of my head that I've seen that chain around his neck before."
"If you think the necklace belonged to the family than perhaps we need to consider a robbery? Perhaps he came upon the house after the incident and thought it ripe for pickings," mused D'artagnan. "Or perhaps he was involved in the incident and for some unknown reason his companions had him killed."
For a few moments there was silence as everyone contemplated the fate of the man on the road. Amorette couldn't fathom how they were going to find out just what had happened in this house and the thought began to overwhelm her as the conversation left her behind. A growing knot in her stomach had Amorette worrying that perhaps she wasn't destined to find out what had befallen her cousin and his family and in a few days' time Athos and his friends would have a need to be elsewhere. What would she do then? Going about investigating Charles' death on her own would be impossible. Musketeers were highly trained and although they were not inquisitors they would have a knack for noticing the unusual and out of place. Amorette was just a socialite heiress. Her other friends were not a feasible option, as most of them were considerably well off in their own right and liked to throw their weight around. Throwing money and dropping names at a problem never did bring about a solution. Would Amorette want to face the solution of this problem though? Perhaps whatever had happened in this house really was better left buried. Making a decision alone, Amorette decided that if they had found nothing of consequence by the next evening then she would leave and never look back. She couldn't ask for the musketeers to extend their stay much farther beyond that, and the stark reality was that they were her best hope.
The dull murmur of conversation began to reach Amorette again and she pulled herself from her own thoughts. The glint of candlelight as it reflected off a glass lifted to lips had Amorette looking around the table. The decanter was empty and all four men were draining the dregs from their glasses. For a few minutes more there was small talk before Athos bid Amorette to follow him in hopes of finding her somewhere to sleep for the night. Climbing the stairs, Amorette's tired mind drifted to unlacing her corset and slipping into one of Lucinda's night shirts but as they rounded a corner on the staircase and were faced with a dark corridor, Amorette was reminded painfully of what had occurred in Lucinda's room. She would not be lending any of Lucinda's clothing for comfort purposes and she certainly wouldn't be removing any of hers in case the need arose for a hasty exit.
Candles held aloft, Amorette and Athos waited cautiously for the unknown. Amorette felt reassured when she looked to Athos and saw that he looked as uneasy as she felt. The bedroom doors were all closed and a sliver of moonlight from the windows at the end of the landing illuminated children's toys that littered the floor. A gentle breeze passed them as they watched the flames of the candles flicker slightly. "I can't stay up here!" Amorette blurted out as she took a step back towards the staircase.
Athos turned to her with a considerate glance and shook his head slightly. "And I wouldn't ask you to. But is there anything you need me to fetch?"
"I don't want anything from this house." They both turned and began to descend the staircase again, all too aware of the black abyss that they left in their wake. Amorette had to force herself not to glance back at the upper floor but as they reached the turn, her candlelight illuminated the bottom half of a portrait that hung on the wall above them and all thoughts of the upper rooms vanished. Before her was a portrait of her cousin Charles as a young man. Amorette recalled her cousin sitting for it shortly after he turned nineteen. It wasn't the charming young face or the artist's work that piqued her interest though. On his broad chest, Charles' counterpart wore a large pendant encrusted with Jade stones that was hanging from a thick gold chain.
"Mademoiselle?" Amorette shivered slightly as she felt Athos' breath on the back of her neck. He was standing right behind her but despite being on the step below her; somehow he still managed to tower over her.
Amorette pointed to the oil painted necklace before her. "That's it! That's the chain that I saw around the neck of the man on the road. Which means this was no robbery!"
"I'm sorry?" At the sound of his incredulous tone Amorette turned to face her old friend. "Surely it only serves to implode his guilt."
"No, let me show you!" The sound of the soles of Amorette's boots resounded throughout the large vestibule as she clattered down the stairs and dashed towards the library. Throwing open the door she approached the fireplace and waited for Athos to fall into line beside her. In her haste, Amorette had not realised that her candle had snuffed itself out. She leaned across to let the candle-wick meet the flame of Athos' candle and re-ignite it. They stood before a much larger portrait and of this one Amorette thought very little. It was not the artist's work that disgusted her as much as the model who had sat for it. Depicted there was her Uncle Phillipe and Amorette forced herself not to look towards the cold grey eyes that had once terrified her so much. Instead she mimicked her actions of a few seconds ago and pointed towards the jewellery that was depicted there. The same necklace depicted in the portrait of Charles could clearly be seen around her uncle Phillipe's neck. As soon as Amorette was sure that Athos had seen the link she turned on her heel and marched back into the hallway. The door to the dining room that the other musketeers still occupied stood ajar just enough for Amorette to slip through and Athos followed, letting the door swing open behind him. Without waiting for anyone to question her thought process, Amorette launched herself towards the fireplace and yanked the corner of the sheet that Porthos had used to cover the painting of her great-uncle.
As the sheet floated to the floor, Amorette searched the painting for the gold chain. It was there, albeit hidden by a thick fur collar that was draped around her great-uncle's neck. Amorette took a step backwards until she stood in line with Athos. "This was no robbery. That must be the family seal."
Athos nodded his agreement. "The man on the road was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. He must have stumbled upon the scene here much like you did Mademoiselle, and then taken the necklace as proof of his word when he raised the alarm."
"He got lost just like I did, too." Amorette concluded. For a few moments there was silence as they all contemplated just how much more sinister everything seemed after such a revelation.
Then D'artagnan broke the silence. "Which means that whoever did this can't have been very far from you when you were in that forest Mademoiselle Amorette. They may have been watching you from the moment you left the house."
"They could have been watching all of us," added Aramis gloomily.
"I know it's too dark to ride out now," mused Porthos, "And that we haven't figured out what happened here but I think we should leave at first light. This place is starting to give me the creeps. Maybe the magistrate's men will have found something out. We could pay them a visit."
The atmosphere in the room shifted a little as Amorette sensed that the other three musketeers probably whole heartedly agreed with Porthos, their words only silenced out of consideration for herself. "I agree with you," she muttered.
A confused expression crossed Athos face. "Don't you want to know what happened here?"
Amorette nodded soberly. "Yes I'd like to know what befell my cousin and his family but I'd rather not kill us all in pursuit of those answers. Porthos is right. Something really is amiss here and we don't know just how dangerous it is."
Amorette didn't remember falling asleep on the chaise longue in the dining room. When she woke to the dense darkness of the room she felt the warmth of a rug that had been draped over her and groaned a little as she realised how much her corset pinched her sides. Immediately she was aware of more than one presence in the room with her, but what caused her sharp intake of breath was the voices of the musketeers that resonated from another room down the hall. Immediately Amorette bolted upright as the rug slid to pool on the floor around her feet. Crying out for Athos, Amorette darted towards the sliver of light that was the slightly ajar door. Her actions were met with the sound of chairs being dragged backwards and heavy footfalls approaching the room. Just as Amorette reached for the door handle it slammed shut with such force that she was propelled back into the room slightly. Recovering herself Amorette reached for the door handle again and pulled with all her strength. Hitting the door with the palm of her hand she cried out for Athos again, all too aware of the terror in her voice as it was met with the apprehensive voices of the musketeers on the other side.
Suddenly something tightly gripped Amorette's throat and with a startled yelp she was thrust backwards into a body like stone. Forgetting about the raised voices on the other side of the door Amorette brought her hands up to try and prise the rope from her windpipe as panic began to set in. With every second that passed, Amorette pulled and kicked and fought in every which way as she gasped for breath. Just as she felt her limbs begin to grow tired of aiding her empty lungs, a large mass slammed into the door from the other side. The sound of splintering wood and shouting followed as Amorette plucked up the energy for one last kick. Her vision blurring and sound beginning to fade, Amorette swung her leg backwards hard, her diminished hearing missed the grunt that escaped her assailant that would have told her she had hit her mark. The first sensation Amorette was aware of was a sharp pain in her knees as they slammed into the hard wooden floor. Air flooded into her lungs as Amorette coughed and gasped. Slowly the dark room came into focus again enough for Amorette to ascertain that a fight was taking place. A severe popping sound brought her hearing back and she felt tears prick her eyes as the sound of shouting and loud musket fire invaded her mind. Before Amorette could search the room for anyone that she knew, she was lifted from the floor and slammed into a wall with enough force to knock the air from her lungs again. Amorette pushed and fought against another body of stone for a few seconds before she looked up and found Athos towering over her. Pressing her against the wall he watched the fight that ensued in the room over his shoulder but Amorette saw nothing over it as her forehead only reached Athos' chest.
Gulps of air subsided to erratic short breaths as they waited. Suddenly there was silence in the room. "Where the hell did they go?" Porthos growled. Athos pulled away slightly and Amorette stared into the gloom for a few seconds before her eyes adjusted to the light. Aramis, D'artagnan and Porthos were standing in the middle of the room gazing around themselves in bewilderment.
"Regardless of where they went we can be sure they're still in the house!" Aramis cried.
With a hand upon Amorette's shoulder Athos squeezed gently. "Are you alright?" Amorette looked up at him hesitantly. Not trusting herself to speak she simply nodded. For a few seconds Athos too looked bewildered. He appeared to have made a decision though and with his hand still resting on Amorette's shoulder he guided her towards the doorway. "Aramis, with me," he called as he gently pushed her across the hallway and out onto the porch. Their horses were still saddled and tied nearby and marching Amorette to hers he lifted her into the saddle. Aramis followed them into the cold night air and regarded Athos with a confused expression. "Take her to the inn in the village and stay there until daylight. If you think you're being followed fire two shots, we'll listen out for them."
Amorette glanced from one musketeer to another as Aramis mounted his own horse beside her. She was still shell-shocked and completely unsure about what was happening. A large part of her also didn't want to leave her old friend in that perilous house when an evil clearly haunted it. Before she could voice her concerns though, Aramis had grabbed the reins of her horse and pulled it around to face the road. With a last few careful words to Athos about keeping safe he brought their horses to a canter and Amorette couldn't even see Athos in the darkness as she looked back towards the house.
Fear enveloped the two riders as they made their way through the woodland. In the hours to come Amorette would not understand how Aramis had found his way in the darkness to the village leading her and two horses. In no time at all though, they were cantering into the stables at the inn. Wordlessly Amorette handed Aramis a pouch of coins and moved towards the open door before he could attempt to give them back. When they reached the bar Aramis tried to place the pouch back into her hand again. When Amorette spoke for the first time since the attack, her voice was raspy and small. "Use the money Aramis. Goodness knows this is my mess. I'm sure a musketeer's salary doesn't stretch to impromptu inn stays. I don't need the money and with it we can at least have decent rooms for the night." Amorette mused that in her voice there was a tone of finality and she knew that Aramis had heard it too. When the landlord approached the bar he delved into the pouch for some coins and requested the best rooms. Pouch a little lighter back in her hands Amorette let Aramis lead her upstairs and into a rather inviting room. A large four poster bed faced a small fire place where a fire still burned in the grate. The room was very small, but Amorette hadn't felt more at home in days.
She turned to find Aramis watching her from the doorway. "Will you be alright here on your own Mademoiselle?" He handed her one of her saddle bags and rested his hand on the door handle.
Amorette smiled at him as she let out a sigh of relief. "I'll be fine. I'm just glad to be away from that house."
"I'm just down the passageway," said Aramis as he closed the door gently and Amorette heard his footsteps as he moved down the hallway to his own room. She rushed towards the door and lowered the catch on the lock. Slipping out of her dress Amorette pulled a thick woollen shall from her bag and wrapped it around her shoulders. She crossed the cosy room to the window and climbed up onto the window seat. Outside a few men had gathered around the stable doorway. For a while Amorette watched as their number increased until there were at least twelve of them. Curiously she listened to their cries of "Ava amb la rei!" for a while, knowing that in the darkness they wouldn't be able to see her watching from the window.
She jumped up with a start when Aramis used his sword to unhook the latch from the outside and burst into the room some time later. "What are you doing?" she snarled as she pulled her shawl tighter to hide the top of her corset.
"Come away from the window," he gestured to her to move with one hand and Amorette noticed his pistol was held in the other. She shuffled away from the window seat as Aramis looked down on the men outside. "Sorry for the interruption Madame but I don't like the look of our Occitan speaking friends outside."
"There we go with the Madame again," Amorette muttered as she perched on the edge of the bed.
Aramis ignored her last comment. "I think perhaps we should occupy the same room for the evening just to be on the safe side."
"Are you really sure that's necessary?" Amorette gasped.
"I know it's not respectable or proper, but I've watched that group multiply considerably in just an hour and if they decide to invade the inn wouldn't you rather be in the room with the musketeer and his musket?"
Amorette glanced to his weapon again and begrudgingly saw his point. "I suppose you make a fair point." Amorette slid herself back until she lay in the middle of the bed and pulled the sheets up around her. Aramis crossed the room and tried to make himself comfortable on the long couch. "You know I'm far smaller than you, and I could probably lie completely straight on that couch. Wouldn't you be more comfortable if you took the bed?" Amorette offered.
Her offer was declined profusely by Aramis. He agreed with her that her lacking height might mean she would find the couch tolerably comfortable but he expressed a need for a clearer view of the window and door. Amorette could not have said that she expected any different from the musketeer and rolled over onto her side to try and get comfortable. The ruckus from outside only intensified as they both listened to the cries of "Ava amb la rei! Libertat despuòi la rei!"
"Do you know any of the language of the Languedoc Monsieur?" Amorette asked to the relative darkness.
"A little. You?" Aramis' voice sounded very alert for someone who had been through the same things that she had that day. Amorette was exhausted beyond reason, but something within her mind prevented sleep.
"A few phrases, but I can't make out what it is they are chanting outside."
Aramis sighed deeply before answering. "Ava amb la rei! Down with the king! Libertat despuòi la rei! Freedom from the king!"
"But that's treason!" Amorette sat up as she spoke, pulling the sheets with her. "Surely someone will hear them and report all of this."
With a glance out the window Aramis shook his head. "The people in this area are country people. They are clever enough to keep quiet and therefore they keep their homes and families safe. As long as they stand outside and chant I suppose they think that those men pose no harm. A group of what looks like fourteen men now could not invade Paris and overthrow the house of Bourbon on their own. They'd need a lot of help and out here in the middle of nowhere they aren't likely to find it. There will always be opposition to the crown Mademoiselle. We cannot persecute people just for having an opinion. The reality is they've had too much wine and the local magistrate may see fit to lock them away for a day or two. But the people in this village want a quiet life, and I'd say those fourteen men probably do too if they are honest with themselves."
There was silence for a few minutes before Amorette said "I cannot imagine France without a king."
"Reign is a tenuous thing," sighed Aramis. "There may come a time when the needs of France change and a monarchy is no longer viable. I don't believe that time will come within the near future. I admit it seems strange to think of the France we know without a monarchy but that is because we know of nothing else. We are not the people to think of such times though. I am a trained soldier fighting in the name of king and Queen. You Madame are a young entitled woman with links to very old aristocratic families. You'd have experienced a very different education to me. I'm sure you had the pleasure of the finest tutors in France whose teachings favoured sovereignty. You and I are not people who would be expected to embrace a France without a monarch."
Amorette supposed that he was right, but to her it still seemed rather farfetched; imagining the France that she knew without a sovereign was extremely difficult. There was a system, one that had been in place for hundreds of years that to her mind worked very well. Granted, there would always be poverty-stricken people who saw the pomp and ceremony in a negative light. The extortionate rates of gold that some of her class threw away were sure to anger the lower classes who could barely afford to eat. Aramis watched her from across the room as she pondered what he had said. "It's pretty simple really. Think of it like you would a marriage. You would have been schooled to expect to make an advantageous match as a young woman. Whether you have or not is irrelevant, but as a child you would have looked upon matrimony as something alien. You would have expected it to strip you away from everything that you know and trust and drop you into a wholly different world, especially if you married a foreign gentleman."
"I still think of it like that," chuckled Amorette.
"But that's because it's all you've known. I'm sure you remember older cousins and friends getting married, and were witness to their fear of the unknown. That's the thing; some people strike it lucky and somehow fall into this sort of agreeability with each other. Friendship within a marriage is important. Others spend their days arguing and avoiding. You saw all of that fear and as a young woman you watched all of that reflected in others and in the school-room you were taught how to obey any future husbands, and that whole concept was an unknown world to you but you still thought of it." Aramis made a face then, as if he was sorry he'd spoken. "Look, all I'm saying is that you are a product of your upbringing and education. It's not that you are narrow-minded; you just haven't delved that far yet. It might be good to think on it a little though. If it were ever to happen, the sacking of royalty I mean; the nobility would be next in the firing line. It wouldn't hurt to know the players in the game and how they could help you in a sticky situation."
Amorette no longer knew what to make of the marksman. She supposed she was right about him being a ladies man, but all of this deep liberal thinking made him seem much more than just a hired soldier. "You know, I did read some rather scandalous poetry a while back that talked off the fall of kings. Fabien something or other, I think his name was. He caused quite the scandal, so much so that just when I started to read his work it was all banned. His books were ordered to be burnt. Of course that meant that everyone wanted to read him."
"I cannot say that I remember hearing of it," Aramis said.
"What about all that marriage stuff?" probed Amorette. "Where did all that come from?"
Amorette watched Aramis smirk at her from across the room. "Let us just say Mademoiselle, that there have been a fair few women in my life who I have thought very highly of."
Even though the musketeer had no romantic designs upon her and neither her upon him, Amorette could still hear charm dripping from every word that he spoke. "I must confess Aramis that from our first meeting almost I knew that you were something of a ladies man. Please don't take that the wrong way!" Amorette held up her hands in mock surrender and didn't miss the smirk that crossed Aramis' face. "All I mean is that you're very charming gentleman. I think you love women, and know how to treat them well. Perhaps that's half your charm. It's not that real gentlemen are hard to find, but they are hard to hold on to. Most of the time when you find a man who treats women so well they are so hung up on someone else that it's pointless to make the effort with them. That's a struggle in itself though. A man mooning over his great love makes him that more irresistible in some strange way." Amorette stopped then, not sure if she should say anything else. Aramis was Athos' friend after all, and she supposed that no matter how much they would deny it; men probably did gossip about women to each other.
"I know how that feels. There were two women in my life who I felt like that about." Aramis sat up a little to look at her, as if the eye contact would encourage affinity. "There's always that one that got away that plagues your mind when you least expect it. There was one in question, who I haven't seen in many years. I have no knowledge of where she is or if she is even alive. I no longer harbour the same feelings for her but I can't help wondering what kind of a life she chose for herself. She was not someone I would have been in a position to marry. I was not wealthy enough."
"Perhaps it was for the best," mused Amorette. "You say you no longer feel the same about her so I'm sure that means you've met others since who have stirred those emotions in you, perhaps even more so than she ever did. Perhaps it just wasn't meant to be. Like almost everything nowadays."