Hi all, I was inspired to write this story after watching "The Three Musketeers". Let's just say since I saw the Hobbit, and witnessed the beauty that is Luke Evans he has become my muse. I based this version of Aramis on his portrayal. Hope you like it. x

o0o

"Would you care for anything else milady?"

"No thank you Amelie, you may go. Good night."

"Good night."

Amelie curtseyed respectfully and left her mistresses room. The young girl had been in her ladies service some three months now and although she would not admit her to be a cruel mistress, there was something mysterious and dangerous about The Countess Jocelyn Dorziat. Amelie had assisted The Countess that evening to dress for the night, as she was attending a grand ball at the home of the Count Evreux, best friend and close companion of the King.

As Jocelyn surveyed her appearance in the cheval mirror she inwardly complimented Amelie's work. She had chosen a purple and black charmeuse silk gown, heavily embroidered with black lace around the collar and hem. The cut of the dress was low and exposed Jocelyn's shoulders and a great deal of torso. Her hair had been tightly curled and fixed up in the fashion of the ladies at court and was adorned with jewels and feathers to match her ensemble. Some would say it was the most unsuitable dress for such an occasion, but The Countess Dorziat did not mind, she knew exactly why and for whom she wore it for. The Count Evreux.

The Count was an extremely rich and influential man, who in his younger years had been the Lord and master of Jocelyn's town. However he had not been a kind and generous master, with a penchant for high taxes and harsh punishments for those who could not pay. When Jocelyn was just eight years old her father a local landowner and gentlemen, had made the reckless decision to take a loan from Evreux to ensure his summer crop would survive. Sadly the loan and the weather had both been exacting and prompted her father to take his own life, leaving Jocelyn homeless and orphaned. From that day forward she vowed to take her revenge on the Count. When Jocelyn came of age she left the orphanage and began her plot to find and kill Count Evreux.

Her journey began at the age of sixteen when she came to work in the house of Sir Andre de Chauvigny as his housekeeper. The aging knight had been a soldier in the Kings personal guard and was a kind master to her; although not very wealthy his connections with men of higher status thrust Jocelyn in an upwardly direction. The second stage in her plan was to gain skills in weaponry and deceit and the vengeful teenager was able to study under the tutelage of Tristan de Clement (the once Duke of d'Herblay, although upon pain of death he would never admit it.) Tristan was a friend of Sir Andre and taught Jocelyn how to wield a blade and pistol - not a sword as he deemed it an unsuitable weapon for a woman. Jocelyn had revealed her plans to Clement and he had understood her motives as he once had a daughter of his own whom he had lost. He appreciated the bond between father and daughter as sacred and after training Jocelyn he had begged her not to go through with her plan but to stay with him as his ward. Jocelyn had come to care for the old man and it wounded her to leave him, but she knew her will to destroy Evreux was too strong and so she left Clement in the middle of the night.

Eventually Jocelyn arrived in Paris and into the path of The Count of Dorziat. The Count had been clear about his feelings for Jocelyn when they had first met, and knowing him to be wealthy and with high connections Jocelyn agreed to marry him. It would be wrong to admit that she had felt nothing for him but she was unsure if she had loved him. After they had been married a year the Count died, succumbing to an illness he suffered with before he married Jocelyn. The now fully grown woman was not glad at his passing, but agreed it was a fortunate circumstance that accelerated her plans. Dorziat had not been truthful to his wife and the true extent of his fortune, which was some three times more than what she had originally thought. The widow Countess Dorziat was now an eligible prospect for any man in France most especially The Count Evreux.

Jocelyn steeled herself as she pushed the memories of her past from her mind. They would do her no good this night as she needed all her strength to deceive and accomplish her aims. If she was successful Evreux would invite her to become his mistress allowing her access to his private chambers where she could execute her final plan. The Count was renowned for taking women out of the marital bed, as he had done so six times already since his marriage to the much younger, Caroline Bretagne only two years earlier. Knowing his love and gluttony for money, Jocelyn was sure he could not resist her fortune.

Straightening the hem of her skirt and collecting her fan and purse from the dresser, Jocelyn left her room and travelled to the ball. All manner of society were at The Count Evreux's party. All upstanding members of French society, all with their own sordid and wicked secrets. When Jocelyn arrived at the house she was helped out of the carriage by a servant and admitted entrance without a look or a comment. As she climbed the staircase from the rue towards the door, her nerves began to bubble in the pit of her stomach, but she did not let them beat her. Jocelyn reached the atrium of the house and a second servant removed her cloak whilst a third announced her arrival at the party.

"The Countess of Dorziat." The pompous herald cried.

Those nearest the door immediately turned to look at her, whilst those furthest away hurried to the nearest gap to take a glimpse at their newly arrived guest. It had not been ten months since the Countess' husband had passed away, and many believed she would not accept the Count's invitation. There shock at her attendance was nothing compared to her attire. It felt like everyone in the room had stopped whatever conversation they were holding to take a peek at her, but as quickly as they stopped talking they began again. Jocelyn heard snippets of their conversation and remarked how they spoke about her the way she thought they would.

Jocelyn walked around the periphery of the room greeting those she knew with a smile and those she didn't with a polite nod of the head. A serving boy offered her a tray of food that she courteously refused and then another came by and offered her a glass of champagne, which she took eagerly. Placing the glass to her lips she spotted her target across the room, whom caught her eye with a confident smile. She surveyed him over the rim of her glass, seducing him with a sideways look. Evreux was nothing short of predictable. When he sensed he could leave the companion he had been talking to he did so quickly. He continued to stare at The Countess Dorziat as he wandered past other dignitaries he should have paid compliments to and spoke with. None of this was lost on the scheming woman and she laughed inwardly as her plan was working.

She had no intention to accomplish anything that night other than draw Evreux away from the party into a secluded corner of the room. As he was getting closer Jocelyn set her glass on a nearby sill and began to walk to the open door at the back of the hall, the perfect place to lay her trap. Waiting by the doorway, but not stepping outside, she waited patiently as Evreux came to stand directly behind her.

"Countess we did not expect you tonight." He breathed down her neck, his breath a mixture of stale food and wine.

"When your grace so kindly extended his invitation, how could I refuse?"

"Indeed."

Evreux offered Jocelyn his arm, which she accepted to keep up the pretence. They wandered into the courtyard of his house. It was not a garden as they were in the city, however there were raised beds and trees planted artificially that gave the patio a pastoral feel. As the couple descended the few stone steps further into the night Evreux was called back toward the party by a male voice. Jocelyn did not hear the lilt of the voice nor what they said as she continued to walk around the courtyard and found a secluded spot behind an Acer Tree. When he had finished his conversation The Count searched the dimly lit patio for The Countess. He called out to her in the night but got no reply. His heels rapped on the stone floor and echoed in the air, as he wandered past the tree he felt a pair of hands cover his eyes and a soft voice giggle. Covering the hands with his own he joined in her mirth and removed them from his face.

"Forgive me milady, I was waylaid by the head of my guard."

"Does he fear for you, your grace? Or worry I may lead you astray?"

Jocelyn put up a good act and it was working on the despicable Count.

"Are you milady?"

She giggled deceivingly.

"He cannot help it. A Musketeer never truly trusts any man, or woman it would seem."

"A Musketeer? I thought they were employed at the King's command?"

"Indeed. Let's just say Aramis is on loan from our benevolent King."

Jocelyn faltered when she heard that name and her face gave her away.

"Are you alright milady?"

There was a genuine note of concern on the voice of the Count.

"Yes I am fine. Though I feel a little light headed, from the night air."

"Forgive me I keep you out too long. Let us go inside."

Jocelyn accepted the arm of the man he despised for the second time that night, although this time out of necessity. When they entered the party the gathered were dancing and the music was loud enough for the Count and Countess to return unnoticed by most. One who had noticed was the Count's wife, who promptly and discreetly demanded the attention of her husband and proceeded to dance with him with their other guests. Jocelyn obliged so as not to seem challenging, but inwardly cursed that she had allowed the moment to slip away from her.

As she watched the couples dance around the floor, Jocelyn once again took her position on the edge of the room. She was not sure if the chance would present itself again that evening and decided to abandon her plan and return home. As she headed for the door she spotted a figure at the other end of the room. A man dressed in black. Jocelyn was certain the gentlemen looked at her for a brief moment before a flurry of dancers obscured her view and the man was gone.