Following the giving of gifts, we think we know how they both feel. In this and the next chapter I am attempting to convey the difference between the feelings they both show on the outside and what they really feel on the inside, but deny to themselves and each other.

In this chapter we meet all three of the Musketeers. Unrest in France increased during the reign of Louis XIII. The chief problem was keeping the French nobility in check, and Louis relied heavily on Richelieu to do this. His spy network was notorious for discovering and punishing the culprits.

CHAPTER TEN.

DOUBTS.

Minette hated the coach ride from The Residence to the Cardinal's apartments. The route passed through a run down district, where it was always best to sit well back in the seat and not look out, lest one attract unwanted attention.
The autumn rains had turned the roads to a quagmire, a fetid mass of mud and dead leaves, human filth and horse manure. There had been a great deal of unrest in the city of late. She had heard tell of the ruthlessness of her Cardinal in rooting out these insurgents, using his intricate network of spies and informants. But the monarchy was threatened, war loomed, these were dangerous times.
A sound of musket fire resounded from an alleyway as she passed. The horse reared, whinnying in terror. There was a jolt and the carriage came to a halt, leaning precariously to one side.
An angry mob formed outside one of the seedy inns, a fight had broken out. A knot of baying men gathered to watch the brawl.
As the crowd surged and chanted, the coach was rocked from side to side, buffeted and knocked. The door was wrenched open, hands grabbed her, and before she knew what was happening she was standing, alone, surrounded by a sea of lecherous faces.
Minette was very frightened indeed. Most of these men were drunk, none in the slightest bit respectful and all rather excited by the sight of a beautiful, well dressed, young lady.
They formed a circle around her.
"Look at this pretty little thing."
"Give us a kiss mademoiselle, don't be shy."
One of the mob pushed her, she fell into the arms of the man in front of her, who turned her and pushed her back. Soon she was being shoved from one to another, round and round, as they taunted her. Someone grabbed her and kissed her hard, his breath stinking of beer, other hands fondled her breasts, through her dress, leering and stroking her face. She screamed and tried to fight, but there were too many.
Her carriage driver ran for help, he could not fight the rabble alone either.
She was forced to the ground into the mud, by a swarthy drunkard, tugging and pulling at her clothes, rending her dress, in an effort to put his hand up her skirt, as the crowd bayed for more.
Minette was like a caged animal, she kicked and spat, catching one assailant in the face with her foot, she was immediately smacked in the mouth for her trouble, splitting her lip.
"Take that you little whore, there's more where that came fro..."
Hit suddenly from behind, the man stopped in mid sentence, groaned, and fell forwards onto her.
Minette rolled him away roughly, the mob parted and fell silent, she looked up to see three faces, looking down at her, one of whom was Aramis.
"Thrice met, m'lady!" He said.
"Porthos! Athos! Meet the Cardinal's little pet dog."
"Ah,"said Athos, "so this is the young miss, that has melted the heart of the frozen Red Man."
"I can't see the attraction." Laughed Porthos, " well, at least, not at this precise moment, she looks a little...dishevelled!"
They all chuckled together.
"Are you all going to stand there laughing or are you going to help me?"
She could taste the blood from her mouth as she spoke, tears were not far away.
Aramis bent, and scooped her up in his strong arms.
"Come along, mademoiselle, you shall ride with me!"
Her arm around his neck, his face inches from hers, he began to carry her towards his horse.
"Your carriage is broken, we will take you to our lodging house, where you can rest until another coach can be procured for you." He said.
Setting her on the ground, he mounted the bay stallion, and Porthos, lifting her from the waist, seated her side saddle, in front of him.
Holding the reins and encircling her tightly, he urged the horse forwards and away they rode.
"I told you it was not over, for us." He whispered, as they trotted onwards.
"There is no 'us'," she retorted, crossly.
"Of course, I could just set you down here, and let you walk the rest of the way." He laughed.
"Please...Aramis, be a gentleman, if that is possible for you, you know I am spoken for."
He held her uncomfortably close, and with the movement of the horse she was pushed against him more, she was very much aware of his proximity.
They reached their lodging, and Captain Treville came out to meet them.
"What have we here?" He said, then recognised Minette. His face grew concerned, for what it was worth, he liked the young lady, he thought her courageous and rather sweet, he had no wish to see her treated badly.
"Please, Captain, " she pleaded, "send Him word, to send a carriage for me...please."
"Consider it done, m'lady," he said kindly, when he saw the state of her.
"Aramis, see what can be done to clean the young lady up a little, make her more presentable."

Once inside, a basin of warm water, a wash cloth and towel were set on a table beside her. She was bruised and sore, filthy from head to toe, her dress torn, hair dishevelled, mouth bleeding still.
Aramis took the cloth and twisting a corner, dipped it into the bowl and bought it to the cut lip.
"Agh!" She winced, pulling away.
"Easy!" He said softly, moving closer, gently dabbing at the blood, "keep still, young firebrand, I'm trying to help you."
She allowed him to clean her face, his brown eyes were looking into hers as he continued to touch her mouth with the cloth, she didn't seem to be able to look away, no matter how hard she tried.
His lips touched hers, fluttering at first, then deeper, kissing her fully, she felt herself sinking into him and tried to pull away, but he tugged her into his body, mouth moving on hers, tongue seeking entrance, he tasted so good.
Minette managed finally to push him back, her lips on fire, her breathing harsh. She brought up her hand to slap him, for his impertinence, but he grabbed her wrist and prevented her.
"No, mademoiselle, you'll not hit me a second time."
"You take advantage of me. I can't fight you." Her voice was weak and trembling.
"Please...Aramis, don't do this. I am His...I don't want you."
He smiled, then, and moved back a little.
"Oh, but I think you do." His tone was confident, brazen.
"You don't know what I want, you don't know me at all."
"But I'd like to, I'd love to, I'd like to know what goes on behind those crystal blue eyes of yours."
He touched her cheek with his thumb, sweeping it over the cheekbone.
"Nothing, Aramis, nothing for you at any rate. Please let me go...I want to go to Him."
She began to cry then, overwrought, and feeling so confused in her mind by his kiss.
He scanned her face, in wonder.
"You're in love with Him! " he breathed, " Good God! Yes...I believe you are!"
"How is it possible? To love such as Him?"
"Please, Aramis, I beg you...don't. I need Him, and for what it's worth, I think that He needs me."
The musketeer threw back his head and laughed.
"Until someone else comes along, then he'll cast you aside like an old shoe! Don't think it hasn't happened before, and with far more beautiful than you. He's a cruel, heartless bastard, nothing more! And he uses everyone to his own ends!"
"Well, if that's the case, so be it." She replied, " but I'll not betray Him, with you."
"Your loyalty is misguided, " he said, " you'll be sorry in the end. He will destroy you, like he destroys everything he touches."
"I'd be even sorrier with you, Aramis, your reputation precedes you, I've heard all about you, you have difficulty keeping yourself inside your breeches, how many women have YOU conquered? How many mistresses? What makes you different from Him?"
"I am not cruel, I am a lover...you could find out, I could show you if you let me. If I could make love to you, I would make you scream for me!"
"In another life, maybe, but not this one. I do not desire you, you are handsome to be sure, your kiss may be like the heat of the sun, but there is nothing behind it. No truth do I read in your eyes, only lust. Let me go, Aramis. It is not your concern, what fate awaits me."
He backed away from her then, and she tried her best to collect herself, as Porthos came to say her carriage had arrived.
The three Musketeers escorted her, Aramis riding beside the carriage window, frequently looking in at the passenger, each glance a smouldering fire. As the coach drew up at His apartments, she could see the Cardinal sweeping across the court, cloak swinging behind him majestically.
His face was a thunder cloud when he saw who the escort was. He thanked them curtly and one by one they peeled away. Aramis was the last to turn, and his last look towards Minette was one of undisguised passion. She could not fail notice it, nor did Richelieu.

"I sent for your maid, when I heard what happened." The Cardinal said, as they entered his chambers.
"She will help you wash and tidy yourself. You may use my garderobe. I will see you when you are done."
He left, not looking back. Not an embrace. Not a loving glance. Nothing. He seemed cold, rigid.
She emerged, her hair washed clean, a fresh dress, her lip was swollen now, a purple bruise forming around the cut.
He was standing at his desk, back towards her as she entered.
Crossing the room quietly she came behind him and threaded her arms around his middle, laying her head against his back. There was a slight intake of breath at the gesture, and he closed his hands over her own.
"Master?" She whispered.
"It seems I am fated to share your affections with another." He remarked, his voice barely suppressing his rising anger.
She loosened her embrace, as he turned, staring down at her.
"What do you mean?" Her face coloured.
"I am not blind, Minette, nor am I a fool. Do not treat me as such. I've seen the way he looks at you."
"You speak of Aramis?...I do not desire him, I am yours."
" I will not do it, Minette, I...WILL...NOT."

The fury broke like a wave against the rocks, seething, boiling. With one gesture and a roar he swept all the contents from his desk. Papers, books, pens all flew across the floor, the inkwell smashed into a thousand pieces.

"I do not believe you, the look he gave you belies you. Speak the truth to me...what has passed between you?" He cried.
"There is nothing between us, I do not trust him."

Richelieu, laughed, but the laugh was hollow, empty.

"You are drawn to him and you don't even know it. That's the way Aramis works. He is like a snake, coiled in a basket; lift the lid and he will strike! You still have not answered my question..." he said, holding her arms and shaking her.

"We kissed, that is all, one kiss, and, God help me, I found myself comparing it to yours."

The confession burst from her in a torrent.
The Cardinal sat down heavily in his chair, his face showed a simmering rage, but also a deep hurt.

"I am a bad person. I do not deserve such as you...Master..." She knelt down, " I need to be punished."

"Yes, you do, and I will do it, make no mistake." He shouted.

Before he could make a move, Minette stood, and fetched the birch stick from its place behind his chair. With her eyes downcast, she handed it to him. He took it without looking at her at all. In silence, she loosened her clothing and pulled it down, baring herself to him, she turned away and bent herself over the empty desktop, stretching her arms out to the sides.

"Punish me, Master." She whispered," I'm sorry I had such thoughts. I am yours, and shall have no other."

The bite of pain that hit her, made her draw in her breath, but she neither flinched, nor made a sound.

"You belong to me. I own you. You are bought and paid for. " He hit her a second time, her eyes closed.

"Thank you Master. Thank you. I deserve it, I've done wrong."

He hit once more, and then set the stick aside. He trembled, his anger ebbing, emotion taking its place, helping her up, three stripes across her back, he pulled her to him and held her fast.

"No more...no more, Minette, it should be Aramis, who is thus disciplined, not you."

She tugged at her dress, trying to cover her breasts in her shame, but abandoned the attempt, letting herself sink into his body, shoulders heaving, sobs wracking her.

He allowed her to sit in his lap, as he knew it was her favourite thing to do. She was not seductive or aroused, instead, she seemed tiny, vulnerable.

She curled her legs up, bringing her knees towards his chest, her head bent and resting on his shoulder, his arms surrounding her.

'God in Heaven! What have I become? I am every bit as cruel as people say.' He thought. 'I have surely just proved that. And she? My 'Dear One', so little self worth, caring nothing for herself, what have I made her into? Something less than human.' He felt both guilt and shame too.

"What did he say to you, about me...speak the truth." he spoke now, barely above a whisper, his wrath gone.
"He told me you were cruel, and heartless." She said, softly.
"And what did you say?" She heard his tone change. Sorrow barely disguised. His hand played with her hair, twisting it in his fingers.
"I told him he doesn't know you. He doesn't know me either."
"It's a dangerous game you play. You cannot pit us one against the other. If you seek to make me jealous, you alone will suffer. And you will end up with nothing."
A stab of fear and regret, went through her, that she even entertained the thought of what it might be like to be with a man like Aramis, even for a moment.
"I think it is he who plays games."
His voice softened then, and became bitter.
"And he is a master at it, Minette. Don't flatter yourself that he's interested in you. He isn't. He's interested in scoring points from me. He despises me. And what better way to get to me than trying to steal my mistress, from under my nose, and bed her? Think how he would boast in the inns at night when he'd done that. Think how they would all laugh at the Cuckold Cardinal. I know just how his mind works."
The mist lifted from her eyes, 'yes, that is exactly what Aramis had been doing.
Toying with me, worming his way into my affections, with those eyes...that kiss.
God!...what an idiot I've been to even think he was attracted to me for my own sake...' She thought,
"Then he is a fool." She replied. "His efforts are wasted, and his fun will be thwarted."
"You are not cruel, you are not heartless, not to me." She snuggled against him.

'Still she only sees me as her friend and benefactor,' he mused, 'she just does not see me...'
"Never forget, little one, it is your gift that sits over my heart. Do not ask for more of me. You have as much of me as I can give."

After evening prayers, they sat together, quietly. Both in contemplative mood. They had barely touched all evening, he seemed subdued, not wishing to make love to her as he usually did.
"From now on you will be escorted from The Residence, by members of my private guard. Armed. Your maid will accompany you. You can no longer travel alone."
"Yes, Your Eminence."
"I think it is time for you to leave. I have an early start tomorrow, and I am weary."
She rose, and came around the table to him. She stood behind him and put her arms around his neck, her face against his.
"I'm truly sorry, Armand. Forgive me?"
"For what?" His hands touched hers, their cheeks brushing together.
"For doubting you. For a moment, I was blind. But now I see clearly. I am yours, no matter what. What you give to me, of yourself, is enough. I want nothing more."
He rose then, and kissed her swollen mouth, very gently, soft butterfly kisses, his moustache tickling her face and chin.
"You are my own, little one, I need no other."

She parted from him, and as she walked to the carriage, she glanced up at his window. He was standing, framed in the light, gazing down. She raised her hand to her mouth, then towards him. He raised his hand very slightly in acknowledgement, then turned away.