I only own Amorette.
Silence descended upon the tavern when Porthos burst through the door. For a few seconds he scanned the large room until he found his three friends sitting towards the back. He stopped just short of the table that D'artagnan, Athos and Aramis sat around and bent double as he tried to catch his breath. As the seconds trickled by the mumble of conversation broke out again.
"You'll never guess who is back at court!"
Dainty, pretty slippers stepped out of the carriage onto the snow dusted cobblestones of the courtyard of the Louvre Palace and Amorette gasped as she looked up. Despite her vision being slightly obscured by the brim of her hat, she was still taken aback by the splendour of the Louvre. She winced a little as her new slippers rubbed against the back of her ankle rather painfully. She should have worn them in a little. They were in a new style and not something Amorette would normally have chosen but they went with the dress and hat. The whole outfit was in fact not something that Amorette would have ever picked out for herself. The deep purple colour had alarmed her slightly when she had dressed earlier that day. Amorette thought that it washed her out a little, but when she had pinned her hair up and placed the hat on her head she had admitted rather reluctantly to herself that she would cut a very stylish form when she attended court.
The hallways of the Louvre were bustling with chatter as Amorette made her way towards the presence chamber. She felt her cheeks burn red as she noticed more than one Madam admiring her dress and quickened her pace. Praise was still not something she felt entirely comfortable with, even after all these years. Bustling into the presence chamber amid the rustling of her dress, Amorette was tempted to tear the hat from her head and stamp up on down in it. She hated attention of any kind, and now she was about to become the focus of all of Paris court. That had probably been Buckingham's plan all along in purchasing the dress for her. Sighing with exertion Amorette made herself sit on her hands so that she wouldn't fuss with the dress.
When her old friend finally met her in the presence chamber, Amorette finally understood her flamboyant dress. The Duke of Buckingham was wearing a suit of exactly the same shade of deep purple silk. Amorette snorted with laughter as Buckingham grinned. Closing the door behind him he came to sit beside her on the bench. "You just couldn't help yourself could you?" Amorette cried as she grabbed a fistful of her skirts and shook it in his direction.
Smirking, Buckingham slid a gentle arm around her shoulder. "We'll cut quite the form dressed in the newest fashions. No one in Paris is wearing a dress cut that way yet. You'll be the talk of court. You deserve such an entrance."
Amorette winced. "George you know I don't want to make an entrance. I'd rather they were in awe of someone else."
"Too late for that now isn't it!" Buckingham let a light chuckle escape his lips and tapped the brim of Amorette's hat. You suit a hat by the way. It's quite becoming you know. My wife hasn't the head for hats, they look awful on her but you really do look quite the fashionista. So, is he here tonight?"
Amorette glanced at her friend hesitantly before deciding to play dumb. "Is who here?"
"The musketeer," Buckingham muttered just as a steward opened the door and motioned for them to follow him.
"How should I know, and why would I care," said Amorette as Buckingham offered her his arm and she took it.
Clasping Buckingham's arm tightly, Amorette felt a little less frightened by what was about to happen. "Come now Mademoiselle, we both know you care very much. But I'm not one to cause you any unnecessary embarrassment so I'll save the conversation for another time."
Amorette squeezed his upper arm. "Don't go off and leave me George. Chances are I won't know anyone in that room." All the reply she received was a stiff nod as they reached a set of double doors. Amorette sucked in short sharp breaths as the doors swung open and they were greeted with the sight of a long hall lined with courtiers.
"The Duke of Buckingham and the Cometess De La Feuillette!"
As they were announced and took their first few steps into the room, the people nearest turned to face them. Immediately a cacophony of whispers broke out and rippled through the crowd towards the dais where the King and Queen sat. Amorette tried to drown out the whispers in full knowledge that they were all about Buckingham's return to court. She tried to hurry her steps a little in anticipation of reaching the end of the hall but she was jolted back by Buckingham's slow pace. She turned to watch her friend who walked with an air of exuberant confidence that seemed odd considering that everyone was looking at him with disgust and disdain. Buckingham's resolve didn't waver though. He looked everyone who sneered at him in the eye and smiled at them as if he was greeting old friends. Taking a deep breath Amorette tried to smile too. After all, this spectacle was all about Buckingham and relatively no one here would know of her very well. So she smiled, and swung her hips a little as she walked so that her dress sashed along. Buckingham seemed to sense her back straightening and her chin rising because he squeezed the hand that held his arm.
They carried on walking slowly through the throng of people who parted to let them pass along the varnished floor. Although it was overcast outside the snow filled clouds still draped the room in a fresh, crisp sort of light. Amorette let her eyes glance skyward towards the magnificent crystal chandelier as they passed under it. Although the whispering continued Amorette barely heard it. She concentrated on how her shoes pinched her feet as she walked and of the King and Queen that now came into focus at the end of the long hallway. A sudden jerk of her arm had Amorette looking to Buckingham, but his eye line was directed away from her. Following it curiously Amorette realised that she had been wrong. There was someone here who knew her after all.
Athos was staring at her with shock and sheer disappointment in his features. Amorette knew that it was because she was with Buckingham; a man that the musketeers despised. She couldn't really understand his shock. She had known Buckingham almost as long as she had known Athos so why shouldn't she arrive with him. The disappointment, well that was completely unfounded and it struck a nerve with Amorette. As they reached Athos and his three friends Amorette held her chin up high and smirked. A side glance to Athos told her that he had seen it, and that he wasn't pleased. He glanced back at her then and caught her eye for a second before she forced herself to look away.
Amorette felt as if her heart might burst through her chest as they moved on through the hall. She was desperate to turn her head and look back towards Athos but she forced herself to look straight ahead now towards the Queen. At length they reached the dais and were announced again. Both the King and Queen looked upon Buckingham with trepidation but when the Queen turned her attention towards Amorette she gave a small nervous smile.
"Cometess we are glad to see you return to French court. We hope you shall stay in Paris for long enough for us to come to know you better this time. Have you been assigned rooms to your liking?"
Amorette was a little taken aback by being favoured so openly, and hesitated in her response. "I…I've taken rooms with his Grace the Duke, your Majesty."
A flicker of apprehension crossed the Queen's face before she spoke again. "Very well; if circumstances warrant your need of rooms here at the palace during your stay you must make us aware of it." Just like that the Queen's attention was upon someone else and Amorette and Buckingham were dismissed. Still arm in arm, they were directed towards a door to the right of the dais.
"That's a nice hat," exclaimed Porthos.
"The question is, who bought her such a hat and why?" Athos said, his eyes still trained on the purple wide brimmed English style chevalier hat as the feathers bobbed along above all of the other hats.
Aramis looked at Athos quizzically. "Why does it matter? Surely Mademoiselle Amorette is wealthy enough to purchase her own hats?"
Athos shook his head grimly. "The Cometess that I know doesn't adhere to such frivolities as the heights of fashion. She wouldn't have picked something so gregarious and attention-seeking. The dress and the hat, even the shoes will have been a gift from someone."
It was D'artagnan's turn to look puzzled. "So Mademoiselle Amorette is not allowed to accept gifts now?"
"She walked the hall with the Duke of Buckingham, and I'll hazard a guess that he bought the gifts. I think perhaps the Madam has been bought. She is half English after all. I'm sure it wouldn't really take that much persuasion to influence her."
Aramis moved to stand in front of Athos then. "Personally I think your underestimating her." When he turned, it was to find Athos glaring at him with raised eyebrows. Athos gave no other reply though, and all four musketeers turned to look though the doorway through which Amorette and Buckingham had vanished.
Venturing into the smaller, more chatter filled chamber Amorette felt much more comfortable. Here everyone was involved in their own conversations and no one turned to watch them as they entered and began to meander through the couplets and quartets of people. Just as they were passing a large group of men who seemed to be having a rather serious discussion, Buckingham tugged on the sleeve of one of the men.
"Weston you old dog!" Buckingham cried when the man had turned to face him. Amorette supposed the man must have been in his late thirties, with slightly greying hair and an air of capability about him. Despite looking older he was still what would have been classed as handsome. He was taller than most of the men in the room, with a light stubble gracing his chin and curious grey eyes. As he clasped Buckingham's hand and whispered a mischievous greeting Amorette desperately tried to place the name. He was English, that much was clear but was he a descendant of the Weston who had sailed with Sir Francis Drake? Amorette supposed that he could also have been the Weston whose name adorned a little book of poetry that she had been gifted a few months ago, but she knew that man was in fact much older than the one before her. She settled instead though for his Excellency L'Ambassadeur anglais en France Jerome Weston.
When he turned to her with a gracious smile Amorette realised that Buckingham must have introduced her and she returned his smile. When he bent to kiss her hand the slightest scratch of stubble from his long chin snaked over her skin and inside Amorette shuddered a little. She wasn't sure what to make of those mysterious cold eyes that hid everything. The moment was forgotten very quickly though as he offered to make introductions for them. Amorette let Buckingham follow his friend and decided to hang back a little. It was Amorette who needed introduced though, and she knew it.
Amorette was on her third glass of wine by the time they had completely circled the outside of the room with the English Ambassador. In truth, she barely remembered a single name and the face that belonged to it. Whilst the hall had been full of women admiring the dresses of the new faces, this chamber held mostly men who had very little interest in her dress. They were interested in Buckingham though. A few had greeted him cordially, and some had even been extremely friendly. Others though had blatantly blanked and snubbed him.
Buckingham was still in deep discussions with Jerome Weston, so Amorette began to look blandly around the room. Spotting an empty corner she made the split second decision to retreat to it, picking up another glass of wine along the way. Before she reached the corner though, she noticed that two other young women had seemingly shared her idea and were fighting their way through the throng. Amorette was suddenly apprehensive about crossing paths with them. Would they dismiss her rudely, or not even acknowledge her at all? She needn't have worried though.
The slightly older of the two smiled warmly at her. "Your dress is divine!" she simpered. Sunshine blonde hair piled high on her head and soft hazel eyes met Amorette's gaze as she stared at the doll-like figure before her. The tall hairstyle wobbled slightly as the Madam tilted her head to the side, waiting for Amorette's reply. Amorette smiled simply. "Thank you but you should really pay the compliment to my friend as he picked the dress, not me." Amorette let her gaze stray to the other lady. She was slightly taller and skinnier than her friend but with Auburn hair and pale sapphire eyes she was just as pretty, and also offered a friendly smile. Despite being suspicious of everyone due to Buckingham's rather disgruntled welcome Amorette decided to judge for herself that these two women were trustworthy and amiable. Amorette hadn't had a friend who was her equal in situation in a very long time. So, ignoring the etiquette of waiting for someone else to introduce them Amorette stuck out her hand on impulse, "Amorette Du Gilliory."
"Madam Claude Morreaux," said the blonde haired lady. "And this is Madame Constance D'artagnan." Amorette brought her gaze to Constance and the wedding band worn upon her left hand which confirmed that she was D'artagnan's wife and not his sister. She smiled meekly, not sure whether Constance would know of her or not, but a knowing smile that appeared on the other woman's face assured Amorette that she had.
"Yes I've heard of you Cometess," said Constance as she took Amorette's hand in her own. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance at last although I did not have the impression that you would be returning to court so soon!"
Amorette nodded. "Yes I had thought it rather a way off myself. But here I am. Do you know the Lenoir's? I travelled from Toulouse with them recently. I was companion to Madam Lenoir for a time in Spain."
"Spain?" Claude stammered. "Surely you mean along the border just? That's hardly safe!"
"The Lenoir's are welcome in Spain, as are their friends." Amorette sincerely regretted opening her mouth, and decided to try to explain away the situation. "They have friends and family there. You know what they say though, the whole of Christendom may be at war with France, but war with Paris is unthinkable." Chuckling lightly, Amorette watched Claude's frown dissipate into a small smile, but Constance still seemed a little unsure about her statement.
Suddenly Claude was whispering about some intrigue to Constance and Amorette felt that their conversation might be over and turned to glance around the room. She was shocked when a bejewelled hand clasped her elbow and Claude pulled her towards them so that she was only a hairs breadth away from her face. Suddenly Amorette found herself in a situation that she had never been in before. Here she was with two other young women, discussing some of the disastrous fashions statements that had been made at court that day and admiring the young men around the room. Amorette had never had female friends that she had been able to discuss such things openly and freely with and these women and accepted her into their confidence almost without a second thought.
Strangely, Amorette felt quite at home with Claude and Constance. There was a security with them that she had not found with other women. Amorette was more used to young catty Mademoiselles fighting over dashing Vicomtes and the latest fashions but tonight she was accompanied by two married women who wanted nothing more than to enjoy their evening. Amorette circled the room with her new found friends as they drank more wine and received an approving nod from Buckingham as they passed him. At length though the two Madame's decided to wander back into the hall again and Amorette followed, feeling a little more confident now that she was not completely on her own. She was introduced to women wherever they walked, and she knew she would remember very little of the names. Claude and Constance were reassuring though and promised to help her remember names when the need arose for it.
The hall was a stifling press of bodies and the wafting of fans seemed to do little to ease perspiration. Amorette could feel her coifed hairstyle beginning to sink a little with the humidity and ducked out unto a small balcony. Resting against the balustrade she pulled her hat pin free to re-position her hat. The cool air tickled the back of her neck and she took a moment to breathe fresh air before replacing her hat upon her head. Not wanting to lose her new friends in the throng of people Amorette decided to return to the hall. Turning on her heel she collided with hard muscle. Taking a second to steady herself, she then looked up with the intention of apologising, but when she did she was met with the incensed blue eyes of Athos. He was blocking her path towards the doorway and when Amorette tried to walk around him he grabbed her arm.
"What one earth do you think you are doing, associating with that man? He can be of no help to you at Paris court! Everyone here hates him!" Athos snarled as Amorette twisted her arm in his grip so that he had no choice but to release it.
"I assume you mean Buckingham?" Amorette asked haughtily as she pulled herself up to her full height. "I've known Buckingham almost as long as I've known you for God's sake! He's been a good friend to me recently and as I think you will well know I'm not in the habit of judging someone based on other small minded people's opinions of them!"
"If you think that you know that man then you are wrong!" Athos stepped even closer to her then so that they were almost nose to nose. "He will only bring you down with him."
"Do you really think my judgement so poor? Perhaps our friendship is of mutual benefit? Perhaps Buckingham requires my friendship just as much as I require his? We have many agreements and all of them fair, and even without all of that our families have been allies since before we were born. We are not restricted to formalities and the discipline with which everyone holds noblewomen in this world. He judges me as an equal, not as a woman."
At that Athos snorted and shook his head. "If you're so appreciative of him then why don't you marry him and have done with it! Oh wait, he has a wife back in England and mistresses in every court he's ever had the pleasure to visit! I had hoped a man like Buckingham would have been an obvious danger to you, but clearly I was wrong-"
"How dare you!" Amorette cried. "The duke of Buckingham and I are trusted friends! That does not mean that we hoped into bed with each other at the earliest opportunity! Not every relationship in the world needs to be compared to yours and mine or that of yours and my sister! Unlike a lot of men in this world Buckingham sees women as more than just an heir carrier! You know; I really don't care for such insinuations! As a matter of fact, his wife is a good friend of mine and I would never do such a thing to someone I called a friend! I'm not my sister Athos. They are my friends; which is more than I can say for you after this conversation!" Amorette stormed past him, their shoulders thumping against each other as she went. She crossed the threshold into the hall only to find Constance just inside with a mortified expression on her face.
"What was that all about?" she stammered.
"You heard?" Amorette questioned. Constance gave a stiff nod of the head. "Yes well, Athos and I were always going to lock horns on the topic of the Duke of Buckingham. It's only natural. I should not have been so outspoken though. I don't have to justify myself to him!" Constance simply stood quietly and Amorette supposed she was not the best person to vent to. After all, she was married to one of Athos' closest friends. "Do you know, I'm rather tired and this room is frightfully warm? I think I'll away for the night." Amorette reconsidered her words as she thought they sounded a bit rude. Still trying to calm her breathing she tried to catch sight of Claude in the crowd but she was nowhere to be seen. "Although I would like to get to know you and Claude better! I know no one else here in Paris."
Constance nodded, relief flooding her features when she saw Amorette's anger dissipating. "Yes; let's have tea tomorrow! I'll let Claude know. Where should we call upon you?"
"Oh don't come to me! I'll come to the palace; I expect to have an audience with the Queen tomorrow as it is, so I'll be about."
Saying their good-byes, Amorette left in search of the door. Looking back just before she left the room she was just able to discern Athos and Constance talking quietly together.
As she made her way back through the palace, it occurred to Amorette that the growing darkness would mean that any flower markets would be closed by now, rendering her late night errand almost moot. On impulse she plucked a single peony from a large vase as she went.
A short walk from the Louvre Palace led Amorette to the Cimetière des Innocent. In the darkness that now enveloped her, Amorette was surprised to find herself feeling rather calm and comforted in the cold night air. She knew what awaited her amid the mounds of old and freshly piled earth and resolved to carry on. Dotted about here and there was the odd cross or marble marker of a grave, but Amorette knew that this cemetery held mostly unmarked mass graves now. Being the largest in Paris and in the les Halles district it was the largest in the city. There was also the smell to contend with. The putrid stench of rotting flesh that got steadily worse as Amorette wound her way through the gravesites was also not unexpected, but she had not anticipated just how bad it would be. In the dim light of lanterns that were hanging from posts that lined the path, Amorette stopped to fish out a handkerchief from a deep pocket of her skirts to cover her nose.
Amorette had the sense before she left her rooms earlier to apply a little perfume to her handkerchief and as she clutched the embroidered cloth to her face she breathed in the fresh lavender smell gently. At length her steps slowed until she was at a stop. A simple cross adorned the grave that she had come to visit. Amorette could see her breath it was so cold, but she forced herself to close her eyes and stand for a few minutes, contemplating whether anyone had even attended the burial. She was so deep into the cemetery that most of the late night city sounds couldn't reach her. Thinking, she realised; was overrated. Opening her eyes and banishing the thoughts that plagued her mind, Amorette let a shiver escape her and decided that she had paid more than enough respects. Holding her hand above the mound of earth she let the peony drop. It occurred to her then that she may never return here and when she looked about her she was glad for it. Amorette realised that she had let her handkerchief come away and just as she pulled it back towards her face, the sound of a catch on a musket being released resounded in her ears.
Turning swiftly, Amorette almost laughed at the sight that met her. "Four armed men for one unarmed woman?" Amorette cried as she waved her hands in front of her. "Are you sure all this is entirely necessary?"
Aramis, Porthos and D'artagnan at least had the good grace to look sheepish and lowered their drawn pistols but Athos kept his aloft and pointed straight at her. Amorette watched as Aramis threw Athos a chastising look but it had no effect whatsoever. "Why are you here?" Athos asked gruffly.
Amorette shook her head incredulously, shocked that the man that she had once called friend could look upon her so accusingly. "I travelled with the Lenoir's from Spain to return to Paris Court." Amorette ensured that some abruptness lingered in her tone.
"Traveling with Spanish sympathisers and taking rooms with the second most powerful man in England. Tell me Madam, what are your intentions for returning to Paris court?" Athos' words were laced with suspicion.
Amorette's mouth opened and closed repeatedly for a few seconds as she stumbled over his words. "Do you think I am some sort of spy Monsieur?" When Athos stared back Stoically Amorette's reaction wasn't quick enough to stop the chuckle that escaped her mouth with her hand. "That's ludicrous! The Lenoir's are loyal to the French crown!"
"They have been embroiled in some rather incriminating Spanish schemes over the years." Porthos mumbled.
"You're actually serious aren't you?" Amorette squirmed as she made eye contact with Athos and his scrutiny unnerved her. "I've done nothing to warrant your accusations and neither have my friends. Now if you don't mind it's rather cold and I've got places to be."
Amorette moved to barge past Athos for the second time that night, but thought better of it when his pistol was thrust even closer to her face. "Athos!" Aramis' hissed warning went unheeded and Amorette was forced to stare down the barrel of the musket. For a few minutes no one spoke and Amorette was fully aware that they were waiting for her to provide some explanation or excuse.
When she spoke, it was with carefully controlled incensed anger. "I met the Lenoir's in Madrid. Madam Lenoir needed a travel companion and I needed to leave Spain in rather a hurry." Amorette saw Aramis' eyebrow quirk at that, but he appeared to be the only one if them to notice. "It seemed the perfect solution for both of us. There was no ulterior motive in it and not one of us has any designs upon the French crown; and never will have. I'm half French and half English for goodness sake, why on earth would I be in league with the Spanish? That makes no sense at all!"
For a few seconds silence gripped them again and Amorette couldn't fathom what Athos was thinking. "Why are you here?"
"Didn't…what…didn't you hear a word-" Amorette began to stammer before she was interrupted.
Athos jerked his pistol in the direction of the wooden cross behind Amorette. "I mean here!"
Amorette's jaw dropped. "Paying my respects to my dead sister, I should have thought that was obvious! Do you really think I'm some sort of Spanish turncoat now?"
Athos ignored the last question. "Respect? She never showed you any in all her life? You owe her nothing!"
"I'm here out of respect for my poor mother! You're right, I owe Ann nothing but I owe it to myself! Is this your first visit Athos? Have you even been here before? Did you come to the burial?"
"I paid for it!" he growled.
"But it you watch the burial? Of course you didn't. You see Athos if I let her scare me into staying away then I become like her. The fact that I have the ability to come here and pay her my respects shows our stark differences. I am nothing like my sister. If I'd stayed away then she would have won! I don't want to become bitter and twisted because of what my sister did to me! I won't lower myself to her level. I won't let myself become cold like you have! That's something that even your friends cannot deny. Perhaps if you had done the same you would not have lost so much of your own self as to stoop to accusing me of being a traitor. Goodnight Messieurs!" Amorette turned on her heel to storm off, but she sensed Athos brandishing his pistol in her direction again.
Turning to him with raised eyebrows, she said "Oh come on Athos! You and I both know that you don't even think that I'm worth the musket ball!"
Amorette turned and continued to walk away, the feather plums of her hat bouncing up and down with her movement. "That went well," muttered D'artagnan who had been silent for the whole conversation.
"There's something she's not telling us!" Athos declared. "I'll wager that she and Buckingham have some form of scheme that they have concocted."
"Athos," Aramis placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Didn't you catch what she said? I don't think she's here because someone is paying her or employing her by some means. She said she needed to leave Spain in a hurry! She's not running to something, she's running from something!"
So yes, Milady is now dead for the purposes of this story. Any love between Amorette and Athos is still a little way off, but it certainly wouldn't happen with Milady still around. This chapter is roughly set in 1633 but The Duke of Buckingham or George Villiers was actually executed in 1628. So again for the purposes of this story I've kept him alive. Actually, I rather like Buckingham even though he is a snake.