D'Artagnan, a light sleeper, woke with the sound of a key turning in the lock of his door. A figure he had grown to know well entered the room, closing and locking the door behind her. D'Artagnan released his grip on the poniard he had stowed away under his pillow. "Constance?" "Oui, d'Artagnan, tis I." "What-" Constance shushed him, placing fingers over his lips. She kissed him gently. "May I stay with you tonight?" "Of course. Are you afraid of your husband, when he returns?" Constance laughed softly. "A little, but I truly do not think he will hurt me after your warning. But mostly because I want to be with you. D'Artagnan smiled gently. "Well then, in that case." Constance laughed again quietly, sitting down on the edge of bed. d'Artagnan rolled over on his side, and propped himself up on one elbow. He stared up at Constance, admiring her beauty with a wry smile upon his lips. That devilish handsome smile made her heart beat faster than its already racing pace. She slid her hand over his lacing their fingers together. Using her hand he held for leverage, d'Artagnan pulled Constance down to him for a kiss. She leaned down, pressing her body the length of his, rolling him over on his back as the kiss grew. He leaned up on his elbows, pressing up at her mouth to delve deeper in. A low satisfied moan sounded from deep in her throat. Constance pulled back to look into d'Artagnan's eyes. She could see the love he felt for her in those clear blue eyes. She had never been with a man she truly loved, much less one so handsome and truly as a man should be, as d'Artagnan. He took a deep breath, and the movement of his chest rising and falling beneath her fascinated her. D'Artagnan laid back down on the bed, his hands now free. He reached up to touch Constance's face gently, brushing a blond curl from her lovely face. He could feel every line and curve of her body pressing against him through her thin nightgown, and the feeling was intoxicating. "I love you, Constance." She kissed him gently. "And I love you, d'Artagnan." He smiled, a breathtaking curl of lips. With hands on her waist, he lifted her up and rolled over, so now he was leaning over her. He leaned down to kiss her again, but the smile faded from his face when he saw the angry purple bruises from Bonancieux's abuse. Constance noticed this, and turned her face to the side so he couldn't see the bruises. "Non, Constance." D'Artagnan gently turned her face back to him with a finger hooked under her chin. He leaned down to kiss her, but not on her lips. He started with the bruise at her temple, his touch so gentle and lips so soft Constance's eyes fluttered shut. D'Artagnan gently kissed all of the bruises, seeming to make the pain go away. He moved so slowly, Constance could barely stand it. She wanted to touch the rest of him, not just his lips, and she wanted him to touch her, laying those strong hands on her body. She moved to his mouth once again, taking him by surprise, claiming it for her own. She knew tonight was their night, the Inn was all to themselves, and her husband would not be back this night.