AN: I just wanted to thank all my readers for reading my first story in this fandom, "A Muskateer's Motto". Also a big thank you goes to my reviewers for the warm welcome :-) Please bear with me - I am still a little rusty with the characters and the era.
To my guest reviewer "Debbie" - I hope you'll enjoy this next piece just as much. Thank you for your review of my previous story.
To "jeany goony" - thank you for reading my previous story even though you are not familiar with the show. I am touched that you still read and enjoyed my writing regardless of the fandom I am writing in.
Tanith
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters, locations or canon information depicted in the series "The Musketeers". I'm just borrowing them for my pleasure and hopefully the enjoyment of others.
A Matter of Circumstance
Exhausted after returning from a short mission yet eager to see the one woman who shone above all others, d'Artagnan snuck in through the back door of the Bonacieux residence. With her husband away for the next couple of days, the young Gascon wasn't about to waste a single opportune moment he could spend with Constance. When they spoke the previous day, she had insisted to see him again for an evening meal. Though he knew he was early, he just couldn't wait any longer to breathe in the fresh fragrance of her hair and drown in the depths of those beautiful eyes. It was hard to believe how fate had cruelly decided she be a married woman. Married to a man she did not love. A man who was blind to her beauty. Her courage. Her spirit. It made him sick when he could see how underappreciated she was. If only their circumstances had been different.
With his stomach fluttering and his heart beating a little too eagerly, d'Artagnan slowed his pace and allowed a smile to spread across his face. The smile, however, quickly faded when he reached the closed door of the kitchen. He could hear voices. Familiar voices. Constance. And Aramis?
He pressed his ear to the door and listened.
"Oh Aramis, you are amazing!" Constance moaned in delight.
"And you, Madame Bonacieux, have clearly been holding out on me," Aramis complimented with a hum.
Constance giggled. "That's what d'Artagnan always says to me. Speaking of which, we better hurry. He should be here soon."
"These things shouldn't be rushed," Aramis disagreed.
D'Artagnan could hardly believe what he was hearing. While it was no secret that Aramis was a ladies man, he had trusted his friend to have some measure of respect when it came to his one true love. First the queen and now Constance! What is the matter with him? It was as if Aramis had lost all control over his inhibitions. Confusion turned to hurt and hurt turned to anger. How could he? The young Gascon placed his hand around the hilt of his rapier, ready to spring into action.
"If d'Artagnan walks in on us, it'll ruin everything," Constance protested.
"Just stay calm and we'll be done before he walks through the door. He's not the most punctual type anyway."
How dare he! d'Artagnan seethed.
"I hope you're right," said Constance.
"You've never done this before? Not even for Monsieur Bonacieux?"
"No, never. Have you? I mean, you look like you've done it plenty of times. Not for d'Artagnan of course," Constance laughed.
"Oh not as much as I would like but yes I've had ample practice in the kitchens. I should've brought Athos and Porthos along. They could use some training in this area. Maybe I'll even persuade the captain to join us next time. He certainly could learn a thing or two. Knowing them the way I do, they would think they had died and gone to Heaven once they had a taste of your..."
That's it! Enough! He couldn't take it anymore. D'Artagnan burst into the room brandishing his rapier.
"Soup." Aramis finished lamely. He held a ladle in one hand and a turnip in the other. A bemused expression on his face.
Constance had let out a startled gasp at the sudden intrusion. "D'Artagnan! You're early."
Lost for words and blushing intensely when he realized what he had walked into, d'Artagnan cleared his throat and stood there frozen to the spot. Here he thought the woman of his dreams was being unfaithful - well she was being unfaithful but only to her husband and only because he, d'Artagnan, was madly in love with her.
"Turnip?" Aramis held out the vegetable.
"What's ...what's been going on here?" D'Artagnan croaked and mentally kicked himself as soon as the words left his mouth. One look at the radiant Constance wearing an apron and sporting flecks of flour through her hair and on her face, made the Gascon choke on his words.
"Well, it's kinda obvious don't you think? Why? What didya think we were doing?" Aramis' gaze wondered around the kitchen as if d'Artagnan was under some sort of a spell that left him suddenly dim witted.
Two more visitors appeared through the door. Neither had expected for d'Artagnan to have arrived before they did.
"I thought this was meant to be a surprise. It seems you and Madam Bonacieux are more surprised than our guest of honor," said Athos in Aramis's direction before he addressed d'Artagnan. "And why are you here? You're early."
D'Artagnan ignored Athos when he felt all eyes were focused on the sword still held in a threatening manner in his hand.
"What's goin' on? I feel like we've missed something," Porthos said popping a few grapes into his mouth as he passed the bowl of fruit on the table.
"I don't rightly know. Perhaps it's the big bad turnip that's got him a little spooked." Aramis threw the vegetable at d'Artagnan who caught it in his free hand then he opened the oven door to check on the sweet pies that were baking.
Athos clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Well the cavalry's here so you are safe."
The young Gascon hastily sheathed his rapier and smiled warmly at Madame Bonacieux, feeling foolish for jumping to conclusions.
Constance slipped her hands around d'Artagnan's waist and looked into his eyes. "Happy birthday, d'Artagnan." On her tip toes she reached up and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I hope you're hungry!"
The Gascon grinned broadly and drew Constance into his arms.
"Tis I who remembered the whelp's birthday. I slaved away in the kitchen and this is the reception she gets?" Aramis gestured toward the young couple feigning jealousy over the lack of attention and gratitude he was receiving.
Porthos laughed heartily while Athos began pouring the wine.
END