Chapter XI..in which Charlotte and Athos come up against the Cardinal, and Aramis finds something to distract him from the pain of his last meeting with Anne.
CHAPTER XI
Charlotte stood up and smoothed her skirts, then addressed the physician politely. "I am Charlotte Gaillard, Monsieur, and my father is an apothecary, with a shop near-"
He cut her off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Her father is an apothecary. I am sure a course of learning by osmosis has been most instructive." Swivelling his head to focus his small, beady eyes on Richelieu, he shot him a disparaging look. "Cardinal, your standards for medical care at the palace are slipping dramatically."
Then turning his focus back to Charlotte, the enraged doctor snarled, "You have broken the law by tending to this man. Not only are you not a physician, you do not even have the crude training of a licensed apothecary. And on top of all this, you are a woman! You have no business passing yourself off as a person possessing any degree of medical knowledge." He looked at her scornfully, then muttered, "I doubt you can even read." Turning to his companion, he addressed him respectfully. "Cardinal, please be so kind as to summon the guard to have this troublesome woman arrested, while I prepare the patient to be bled." The Cardinal nodded, exiting the room without delay.
"For God's sake, no!" cried Charlotte in dismay. "He has already lost a great deal of blood, and cannot afford to lose more to your leeches!"
"Shut up, you ignorant girl!" snapped the physician. "And get out of this room immediately, before you do this man any more harm! You can wait in the hallway for the guards."
"Mademoiselle Gaillard will not move an inch," came the calm, measured voice from the bed. "And as for you, sir, you will comport yourself like a gentleman, and treat her with the respect she deserves. I am the one being cared for, and she has done well by me. I require no additional treatment at this time."
"What do you know about medical care, musketeer?" sneered the man.
The Cardinal re-entered the room just in time to hear this last exchange. "Doctor Ambrose, I think it is obvious there has been some witchcraft at work here." He turned to give Charlotte a menacing look, then began to walk around her slowly. "I perceive the smell of burnt flesh in the air." Eyeing her warily, as one would a wild animal frothing at the mouth, he continued to circle her. "This woman—she disturbs me greatly." He pointed his finger accusingly at Charlotte, who willed herself to stand tranquilly in place despite the overwhelming fear she felt at having provoked this powerful man. "Yes, this is a dangerous woman—-a woman who plainly dabbles in herbs and spells. She has likely pumped this poor musketeer full of some potion so she can perform some kind of human sacrifice. Or perhaps her intention was to have her way with him, to sate her wanton desires. After all," he said with a leer, "Athos was bare to at least the waist when we came in."
"ENOUGH!" Athos' voice rang out, and he struggled up in bed, eyes burning with indignation. "You will not besmirch this woman's reputation. With all due respect, Cardinal, you are not the only man in this room who serves His Majesty. Until I have an order from the King himself, Mademoiselle Gaillard stays in this room."
The Cardinal was somewhat taken back, and found himself momentarily at a loss for words.
"I perceive getting that order may present a bit of a problem, Cardinal?" Athos' voice became more cold and detached. "Unless of course, you are not afraid to have the King learn why it took you until four o'clock in the morning to locate his physician, who is supposed to be accessible at all times."
The Cardinal gave Athos a look of hatred, and turned to leave. As he passed by Charlotte, he muttered malevolently, "Do not suppose this is the last of the matter, Mademoiselle. You have made me look the fool, and I cannot allow that. You would do well to remember that this musketeer cannot protect you forever."
Sweeping out of the room, Richelieu vanished, the physician following. In their wake, door slammed shut, the frame vibrating. Charlotte collapsed on the chair next to the bed, weak with relief. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then opened them to find Athos slumped back against the pillows, having spent a good deal of his flagging energy. Concerned, she sprang up and perched on the side of the bed to feel his forehead.
"I am afraid you have tired yourself, Monsieur Athos. But I must admit, you play the role of the gallant gentleman very well. The way you spoke to the Cardinal—it was so compelling—it was as if you were a Comte or a Duke. You were not afraid at all."
Athos allowed himself a small smile at the irony in her comment, then replied with a hint of emotion in his voice.
"Perhaps I am a good actor. But I think it more likely that witnessing the injustice of the Cardinal's accusations against you-" his eyes closed for a moment in fatigue, then opened slowly, a flash of anger once again visible, "-gave me a strength of spirit that I did not think I possessed in this weakened state. You are kind and gentle, Mademoiselle, and no one should ever talk to you in that fashion." Eyelids drooping, he sighed and shifted slightly, trying to ease the pain in his shoulder that had flared up again.
Charlotte's heart filled with gratitude. This was clearly a man of honour. Later that evening, she would lie in bed and wonder exactly what had caused her to do what she did next, as it was entirely out of character for her. Upon reflection, she attributed it to still feeling a bit giddy from the adrenaline rush of her narrow escape. Eyes dancing, she impulsively leaned over and whispered in his ear as his breathing became slower and more regular, "It is lucky for me, then, that you do not remember me taking my pleasure from you as part of my dark campaign to satiate my wanton desires."
His eyes flew open, and she began to laugh hysterically. "I'm sorry, that was cruel of me, but I could not resist." After all, the sedative has almost worn off, and I doubt we will be engaging in this sort of verbal repartee again. That is, if we ever meet again in the future. It is not likely I will be crossing paths with a musketeer in my everyday life. His arm shot out and gripped hers, and she saw a spark of mischief in his magnetic gaze, paired with an expression of such smouldering intensity that caused it her heart to skip a beat.
"I knew you were teasing," he said huskily, his voice becoming a bit weaker, but retaining the mesmerizing timbre that made her feel as if her insides were turning to liquid. "But turnabout is fair play, and you can expect I will exact my revenge on you, Mademoiselle. Not today, not tomorrow, but sometime when you least expect it. And I will make sure it will not be so easy for you to know you are being told a tale. After all," he lowered his voice to an even more seductive register, offering her a provocative smile, "you should have realized that had you used me in such a fashion, I would have surely remembered it."
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When Aramis returned at dawn, he found Athos much improved, and his heart lifted. He perceived Charlotte's exhaustion, and spoke to her kindly. "I am very grateful for your care, Mademoiselle, and you need some well-deserved rest. May I offer you an escort home?"
"No, thank you," replied Charlotte with a smile. "I will enjoy the walk, and the streets will be quiet on Christmas Day." She turned to Athos. "If it is permitted, I will return to check on your wound in the morning."
"I will make sure you are admitted to the palace," said Aramis firmly. "In fact, I will escort you from your shop. Eight o'clock tomorrow?"
She nodded her thanks. "Your courtesy is much appreciated, Monsieur-"
"Aramis," he bowed, aghast that he had not given his name. "I beg your pardon for my rudeness in failing to introduce myself."
"You had other things on your mind last night," replied Charlotte easily. "It is of no consequence." Turning to the bed, she took Athos' hand in hers, and admonished him teasingly, "Now behave yourself, Monsieur, or I will have to be stern with you when I return."
His eyes crinkled in amusement as he graciously inclined his head. "I will do my best to earn your approval, Mademoiselle."
Releasing his hand reluctantly, she fastened her cloak, picked up her satchel, and left the room, Athos' gaze following her. As she closed the door, Aramis turned to look at his comrade, a sly grin spreading across his face. "So, my friend, it appears you have been doing more in my absence than recovering from a life-threatening bullet wound."
Athos rolled his eyes, and replied in a tone that indicated he was more than done with the topic. "I have no idea what you are referring to. Now, if you will be so kind, I would appreciate some peace and quiet."
"You are taken with her," Aramis whooped, laughing in delight as he envisioned the fun he, Porthos, and D'Artagnan would have harassing Athos about this woman. "Even better, I do believe she fancies you." Athos shook his head adamantly, but Aramis only snickered. "Do not try to persuade me otherwise, Athos. I know you better than you know yourself, and you are smitten."
"I will smite you if this conversation continues," muttered Athos darkly. To his dismay, this only served to make Aramis laugh harder.
"Oh, my God, D'Artagnan—Porthos," he gasped, holding his side as he wiped his eyes. "I cannot wait to tell them."
Next time...Milady is back, and she is doing what she does best...namely, evil acts committed under cover of darkness...
On second thought, does she ever really restrict herself to a certain time of day?