Chapter 3: Five Cards or Four?

March 1631. Five months after Melody's arrival in Paris.

The four musketeers as they were known now that D'Artagnan had been inducted into their ranks, lounged in front of the fireplace in Constance's home. The newest recruit was still lodging with her and her husband, and his friends were a near constant feature of the building while Monsieur Bonacieux was absent on his business trips. They filled the house with laughter, entertainment and joy. Melody also spent much of her time there, with her Uncle often detained on official business; the two women provided each other with much needed company and friendship.

"All I am saying is that she was telling fibs – do you really think she didn't receive any valentines?" Aramis stroked his chin as he addressed the room.

"Are we really back on this again?" D'Artagnan rolled his eyes as he entered the room behind Constance carrying a fresh bottle of wine to go with the tray of food she was carrying. Athos nodded rubbing his eyes in despair.

"How many times do we have to discuss this Aramis, you asked if she had any, she said no. As far as everyone else is concerned that is the end of it." Athos stated.

"But I know she had some!" Aramis insisted.

"And just how would you know that hmmmmm?" Porthos goaded him, Aramis shrugged "Because you sent one to her didn't you – even though you promised us you wouldn't"

"Actually he sent her five!" Constance added with a sly grin, the four men turned to her in surprise, she shrugged "Women talk to each other you know."

"Five! Aramis" Porthos reprimanded his friend

"I only sent her four" Aramis excused himself, holding his hands palms up in apology

"You promised us you wouldn't send her any, she isn't interested in you like that and you'll only make it awkward – do you want to lose her as a friend man?" Athos quietly and calmly chastised him.

"I couldn't help it – I just had to, otherwise she might not have had any and that would have made her far sadder. And anyway Melody doesn't know that they were from me."

"Of course she does!" Constance giggled "For one of France's best soldiers you weren't very discreet, the servants saw you delivering some of them."

"Ohhh which means..." D'Artagnan began, his words turning into laughter

"Treville will also know!" Porthos finished the sentence howling.

"He's going to have your man hood on a platter" Athos added helpfully, as the realisation dawned on Aramis and he sat down abruptly tapping his fist on his lips.

"Where is Melody anyway? She should have been here by now" Constance questioned.

"The Captain's probably banned her from being within a mile of Aramis, while he sharpens his tools of male destruction" Porthos offered, handing full glasses of wine around the room.

"Hilarious aren't you?" Aramis snarled, before pouting "Who was the other one off I only sent her four?"

"Really? We thought they were all off you – although the one with the dead flower in was a bit strange – even for you!" Constance mused

"why did you send her a dead flower? That's not romantic" a wide eyed Porthos frowned accusingly.

"I did not send anything with a flower in, dead or otherwise. I had intended to write her a tune – you know a melody for Melody. But I encountered a problem" Aramis explained.

"You have no musical talent and can't read or play a note" Athos offered from his chair next to the fire

"And that was my problem" Aramis pouted.

"Did you receive any Valentines Constance?" D'Artagnan changed the focus of the conversation.

"Just one" She blushed. The look in her lodger's eyes when he spoke to her made her think that Melody may have been right about both the source of her mysterious card and the nature of D'Artagnan's feelings towards her. Constance turned away so that no one would see the smile that spread across her face.

Over an hour later they had managed to avoid mentioning Melody's name, although the subject had only been changed by Aramis after Athos had threatened him with violence. Despite participating in the conversation Aramis found his mind was elsewhere, as it so often was. He had never felt like this in his life, he had told Adele (and countless others) he loved her – thought he did. But this wealth of overwhelming feeling had not been present. Aramis couldn't even explain it to himself. He felt what he had always considered was love – he was attracted to Melody physically there was no denying that. He worried when he had heard she was unwell, longed for her company when she wasn't there; anticipated when he would next see her and even made excuses to cross paths with her sooner. However that wasn't it, sometimes Aramis was infuriated with her mischievous nature, the way she galloped too fast, the way she doubted herself. The anger never lasted though; he made excuses for her behaviour and then wanted to see her all the more. He adored hearing Melody laugh, to see her smile and realised he would do anything no matter how derogatory towards himself to make her do both. He cherished the way that her expressions reached her deep blue eyes; and when he was away following orders he carried the image of them with him. Her eyes were so expressive, and it hurt him to see pain in them, when she spoke of the past or her parents. Aramis realised, as he sat staring into the dregs of wine in his glass, that he would gladly take all pain – physical or otherwise – from her and experience it himself instead if he could – if it meant he could keep her happy and safe. Surely, he thought, this was love. No other woman attracted or interested him anymore; there was only ever one woman in his thoughts and dreams – and that was Melody.

The idea that someone else had sent her a valentines token was bugging him, it had been since he had discovered it. For a moment he had even suspected it could be Porthos or Athos, but he dismissed the idea - they would have owned up to irritate him by now.

"I have it!" Aramis broke through the ensuing debate over which coloured horse looked better with the Musketeer uniform "Treville sent it!"

"I beg your pardon?" Porthos slurred slightly, they had all been enjoying slightly too much wine.

"The card from the mystery admirer – it was Treville, he wouldn't want Melody to be disappointed if she didn't receive one from someone else, so he sent the card!" He was far too pleased with himself.

"Yeah of course, how kind of him, and so sweet to include a dead flower..." Porthos quipped.

"Right come on Aramis – you and I need to have a little friendly chat about this and its dark we'll walk over to Treville's house and offer Melody our protection if she is still planning to join our merry gathering." Athos insisted, stretching his back as he moved to stand. He suspected that his friend harboured genuine feelings for the young woman; but his preoccupation with her was driving them all to distraction. And in truth the dead flower revelation was bothering him somewhat he just couldn't explain why, as was Melody's unusual absence from the house.