Chapter Nine
He rose slowly, he didn't want to wake her but he was starting to enjoy watching her sleep; and when she woke she wouldn't rest until night. He had been a married man for little more than a week, but as he convinced her she was safe he was seeing a different woman than the terrified wife he brought home without knowing her name. Treville hadn't planned on marrying her but he certainly did not regret it.
Easing his body around hers he reached for his breeches, and then the rest of his uniform and checked his pistol before hooking it onto his belt. The sound must have woke her as Maggie rolled, swiping her hair out of her face before starting to push herself up; giving him a rather enjoyable view.
"Good morning." He murmured, watching for a moment as she grabbed her shift, Treville leaned in for a taste of her before giving her space to pull it over her head.
"Morning, I will get you some breakfast." And she was up, he paused as she pulled her corset on; he reached for the laces. Carefully pulling them snug, letting the laces hang down her skirts.
He lit a lantern and crossed to his desk as she turned to stoke the fire. Turning his attention to the palace records he had requested, and was slowly going through, hoping to find connections between the staff and enemies of the King. The problem was the King had many enemies.
What was frustrating was he was in and around the palace regularly for the entire time in question and had suspected nothing until by chance his wife had drawn his attention to it. Treville had narrowed the list of suspects considerably but he had no proof against anyone.
There were two ladies in waiting who had been with the Queen since she arrived in France; and one who had come with her from her home. His instincts said it was a woman, but women in the palace were common; the King enjoyed looking at women.
And today all would be present, including many nobles who claimed to be allies of the King. The King's banquet would be widely attended by many with political agendas that they hoped would not come to the King's attention. It wasn't so many years that some of them had aligned themselves with someone else; only pledging their loyalty again when the coup failed.
Only a few months again the same woman had tried again with another ploy for the throne. It was the lack of an heir that made that attempt possible. King Louis had several siblings, and half siblings all with weak but valid claims to the throne; and reasons to hope there would not be an heir.
The problem with the nobility was they were all interrelated; damn inbred. He was looking for one connection but had dozen's to sort through. Maggie set a plate beside him and headed back to the table, to her own. With a sigh he picked it up and rose, crossing to the table to join her.
"When I'm home Maggie I want to eat with you."
"You were working." She looked slightly embarrassed as he watched her for a moment.
"It's good Mags." Her cooking always was, but it was worth saying it to see her face light up. "I'll be at the palace late tonight, don't try to wait up for me."
…
She watched Jean get ready for the King's event, exchanging his coat for his armor and tying the cloak across his shoulder. She thought he looked handsome in his uniform, but he caught her staring, his face revealed nothing before he crossed and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
He would be gone all day, which would give her some time to go down and work with Serge. If she could teach him to cook a little better, her husband's men might not show up at the door every time their Captain left. Aramis was the worst, he thought he was a charmer.
Serge was a sweet old man, a veteran who had finished his career with the musketeers. They kept him on as cook and he lived in the garrison but cooking was not his strength. The garrison kitchen was dark and dingy, she had spent a good part of the last two days cleaning it. Her husband's quarters were small and required minimal maintenance, which was a good thing as getting this kitchen in good shape was going to take work.
"You work too hard Maggie." Serge commented as she scrubbed down the soot stained walls.
"A clean kitchen is a start." If Evelyn ever saw this kitchen the cook who had been like a mother to Maggie she would have hurt someone. When she lifted a bin something skittered across the floor; Maggie jumped back. "What was that?"
"Rat, we've got a few. I'll take care of it." Serge hobbled after the rat, she didn't like his chances at catching it. Rats in a kitchen were never a good thing, she knew one solution for it.
"Madame Treville." It took her a moment to turn, she was still getting used to that. "Someone at the gate for you."
She frowned and turned to follow the cadet out into the yard. Evelyn sat on the bench, Maggie gasped and wrapped her arms around the older woman; holding her tight. "A musketeer Maggie?"
"He's a good man."
"Did they hurt you?" Evelyn's hand touched her shoulder lightly.
"No, but they whipped him." It was the first time she'd had to admit it to someone. And she led Evelyn up to the room she shared with her husband she talked about her marriage for the first time.
…
Never sure if he should be glad when the King's functions went smoothly or bored out of his skull. Treville scanned the hall, watching that his men kept their posts and remained attentive; but spent most of his time studying the crowd.
Servants flowed in and out of the room, people swirled and moved making it hard to track anyone. He was posted near the head table, Constance eased up next to him. "It was in her wine."
"When?" That caught his attention, now he had a narrow list; someone involved was here tonight.
"Earlier tonight. I switched the cups but I have no idea who put it out; it was there when she sat down." It was easy to see that Constance was upset.
"Relax, the Queen didn't get it. You did well." And now he knew at least someone involved was here tonight. "Stay with the Queen. Get Athos if you have any concerns."
As the young woman nodded Treville motioned Athos to take over his post. He moved to explore the corridors leading to and from the main hall, watching the faces that passed bringing bottles and trays to and from the banquet.
The culprit wouldn't move again tonight, he hadn't seen Constance switch the cups; that meant it was likely no one else had. He studied faces, trying to put them to names he had read earlier this morning.
The event went late, he saw more than one person who had drank a little more than they should have. It was nearly midnight before he made it back to the garrison and found Maggie sprawled across the bed; for the first time in hours he smiled; it would be good to hold her tonight.
