Disclaimer: Do no own any of Dumas' material
Short, but necessary fluff :)
Chapter Two
Juliana sighed and collapsed onto her bed. It was strange that this townhouse felt more like home than her Chateau. Perhaps it was only because her late husband Arnaud had never set foot in the townhouse, but though she herself had never set foot here…it felt like it belonged to her.
The staff had been exceedingly friendly and obviously taken aback by her warmth and friendliness. She had sighed inwardly at their surprise, Arnaud Castlemore had not been well known for being generous with his servants.
Had she wanted to complain, she doubted she would have been able to find anything to complain about. The house had been aired and cleaned to a warm glow. The bed linen was new, freshly laundered, and wonderfully soft. Her bedchamber was extremely welcoming and overlooked the courtyard that led to the street. From her windows she could see the colorful city spread out around her as well as the entrance to the Musketeer headquarters. It was perfect.
Standing at those very windows taking in the city, Juliana doubted if she would ever want to go back to that dark and damask chateau.
"Jules!" shouting loudly and grinning like a fool D'Artagnan had finally arrived and was waving wildly at her from the courtyard.
"Hello brother!" she smiled and waved. "Well don't just stand there. Come inside."
She rushed from her room and met her brother halfway down the stairs. He hugged her tightly lifting her off her feet and then planted a kiss on her cheek.
"I've missed you Jules," he smiled happily into her face.
"I missed you too Tag," she replied and slipped her arm through his as they descended the stairs together. She admired his deep blue tunic and suddenly remembered her escorts, "That was quite a bunch you sent to receive me today."
D'Artagnan grinned guiltily, "They were well mannered, I hope."
"Oh yes," she answered. "They made me feel quite at home."
Her brother rolled his eyes, "I was afraid of that."
"No, no brother. They were wonderful. An excellent replacement for you," she looked at him solemnly. "Really, feel free to send them in your stead whenever possible."
He scowled, "You weren't supposed to be that charmed by them."
"They were unbelievably charming. How could you expect anything else?"
He considered this a moment and suddenly had a horrifying vision of Juliana falling madly in love with Porthos. He shook his head, "Just don't fall in love with them too quickly. They're ladies men, the lot of them."
"Well you are one of their ranks now," she replied suggestively. "Are you considered a ladies man these days little brother?"
He suddenly turned brilliantly red and had her staring, "Oh do tell me why you're blushing."
He scowled at her and did his best to change the subject, "And why are you in such good spirits? Aren't you still in mourning."
She looked at him frankly, "D'Artagnan, you know I did not love that man and don't change the subject. I'm you're sister for God's sake. Who is she?"
Fearing being badgered to death he gave in, "Her name is Constance. She is a lady in waiting to the queen."
Juliana gasped dramatically, "But brother, the Queen's handmaidens are forbidden to socialize with the Musketeers. That's why I never considered the position for myself."
He chuckled, "I think that you are far too taken with my fellow Musketeers. Tell me, do you prefer Porthos or Aramis. Which was the more charming?"
Juliana giggled, "Oh Aramis was wonderfully sweet and charming, but Porthos made me laugh. I do love a man who can make me laugh."
He smiled, knowing how taken his fellow Musketeers had to have been with his sister. She'd been that way all of her life. She could charm a smile from the coldest man. He was sure he'd be seeing a lot of Athos, Porthos, and Aramis.
"But Athos," her face became thoughtful. "He was something else. Charming but more reserved. He is devilishly handsome if I do say so myself and I rather enjoyed his company. He was more, shall I say, subtle than Porthos and Aramis."
D'Artagnan considered his sister for a moment noting the admiration in her voice. Obviously his friends had made more of an impression than he thought.
She sighed and turned to smile at him again, "You choose your friends wisely, Tag. I wouldn't have expected less. Now, I shall just need to meet your lady friend and I can send a letter to mother assuring her you have settled into the picture perfect life you always dreamed of."
There, finally, was a note of sadness in her face. He hadn't expected her to be overly mournful at Arnaud's death, but his sister was never one to want for emotion. Regardless of her love for the man, she had respected him as a person and would have at least mourned for his life. Still, he was sure there was something more there. Jules had always been a sunny person. Arnaud Castlemore had done his best to make that sun set. It seemed he had not succeeded completely, but had brought a few clouds into her eyes.
Wishing to give her a moment he rose, "I'll head upstairs and prepare for supper. I'm famished. Perhaps then you can tell me about the family and what you intend to do here besides send gossip back to mother."
She smirked, "Oh I'm sure I'll make due. I've been living in a closed up Chateau for months with nothing to do but mourn for a man I barely knew. There are a great deal of things that I can do with my time. I assure you, I shall not go wanting. Now go, freshen up. You smell like a stable."
With a quick smile, he left her in the sitting room. Juliana waited till he had gone and sat back with a sigh. He had touched a sensitive subject. She wasn't sure why she had come to Paris either. All she had considered when she got on that horse at the Chateau de Castlemore was that Paris was far away, and exciting. Upon leaving she had felt like a prisoner escaping from her cell. Paris was freedom to her. There was nothing here to inhibit her or tell her everything about her was wrong.
In fact, looking into the vividly colorful and active streets of Paris, she felt she had found a soul mate. She could be and was already on her way to being happy here. It didn't matter what she did with her time, it was simply the fact that she could do anything she wished with it that mattered.
Porthos, Aramis, and Athos burst into D'Artagnan's small dwelling hours later just as he was removing his tunic.
"D'Artagnan! Are you going to sleep?" Porthos slung an arm around Athos' shoulders and grinned. "It's far too early for that. We need to get a head start. The festivities start tomorrow morning. We don't want to get left behind, it's the Feast of Fools!"
"I don't know what you're worried about Porthos," Athos lifted a brow and sized his friend up. "You're already the king of fools, what more head start do you need?"
"Ha, ha. You're very funny Athos. If I didn't know any better I'd say you actually had a sense of humor."
Athos shoved Porthos good-naturedly into Aramis and sat down at the small table next to him. Porthos and Aramis immediately started a lively dance together.
"Seriously though,' D'Artagnan exclaimed over Porthos and Aramis's claps and shouts. "I promised to take my sister out tomorrow for the celebrations. She'll be livid if I already have a head in the morning."
"Your sister!" Porthos exclaimed as though suddenly enlightened. "Why didn't you tell us she was coming out with you tomorrow? Such a beauty! And delightfully funny. I do believe you were trying to keep her all for yourself."
"I was instantly fond of her," Aramis agreed. "What say you Athos!"
Athos grinned, "She's not my type."
"Oh yes," Porthos looked thoughtful. "I forget that she would have to despair of life as much as you." Athos lunged after him, but Porthos danced nimbly around to the other side of the table.
"Well good," D'Artagnan answered sternly, ducking out of the way of Athos and Porthos. "That's one of you I won't have to worry about."
"Ah, ma belle," Aramis sighed. "I shall write her a poem. The first line shall read, 'Thank the Lord you look not like your brother!'."
"There will be no poem writing," D'Artagnan did his best to look upset as his friends chuckled. "She's just been widowed."
"We knew that old chap," Porthos answered unmoved. "We delivered her to old Arnaud's town house today. We had no idea you had been married into old Stuffy's family. You have our sincerest sympathy."
"She didn't seem too upset," Athos added. "In fact, I believe if we had encouraged her she may have unleashed some hidden rage she had for the man."
D'Artagnan grinned, "Juliana was never easy to handle and add to the mix her strong dislike of most courtiers…poor Arnaud was not prepared for the hellion my sister was when she became his. Nor was she prepared for his severity I'm afraid. He did succeed in taming her somewhat; she's more of a lady these days. But I tell you, she had our little village wrapped around her finger growing up. Mother was afraid she'd never marry her off."
Athos scoffed, "Marrying off. Poor girl."
"Athos takes marriage very seriously," Aramis winked conspiratorially at D'Artagnan. "Perhaps he can condole your sister."
"He's already said she's not his type," D'Artagnan replied quickly knowing both his sister and his friends far too well. Both were up for an adventure, and both were likely to become fast friends. Somehow he felt it his duty to keep any influences she received from Paris as far from these three as possible.
"Enough!" Porthos exclaimed and brandished his sword at them. "It is time to drink. There is a tavern and a wench with my name on it down the street and you're all coming with me. We shall worry about the Comtesse tomorrow!"
With that they all scrambled to their feet in the face of Porthos' sword, and out into the streets of Paris just as the sun finally sank beneath the horizon.
I intend to update this story regularly, but it I do tend to update more quickly when I know others are reading. So if you are, let me know so I don't leave you hanging in suspense for a week at a time between chapters.
All my thanks.
