Dear all,

Thank you so much for the comments on chapter 20. What a tangled web is being woven!

It also raised a key question. Did Anne know about Milady and Athos being married? My take on it is this.

I think I have kept BBC canon in that nowhere is their marriage referred to by anyone else after season 1. His three brothers and Tréville obviously know and, by default and probably events, Constance.

In Season 1, Richelieu knew as he made reference to it, having investigated her. He was initially curious as to why she chose Athos to discredit in episode 1 and all she said was that she had her reasons. The Cardinal might have documented it for others to find on his death but that was never suggested. If so, Rochefort would have found it and definitely used it against Athos. They obviously knew (of) each other in S2E1. He investigates Milady but only discovers her criminal past and not her marriage, and uses that to get her to work for him (S2E3?)

Louis was not likely to know. I doubt he would have been happy to take a mistress who was a musketeer's 'cast off!' Therefore, Ann is unlikely to know.

What about S1E10? I re-watched the opening scene. It is dark and there are plenty of Paris citizens on the street – the act is deliberately done in public. Would the people have known him as a musketeer? He is in his leather breeches but minus doublet and pauldron or anything that marks him out as a soldier. Perhaps the people would have realised he was a musketeer by the group rushing and addressing him by name but he has obviously had one too many! Would the street gossip have filtered through to the palace? I doubt it.

When Porthos rushes into the garrison, he says that Athos has taken a woman hostage. There are other musketeers there and no doubt they are curious. Aramis and d'Artagnan run and are the closest when they confront Athos in the street. Tréville arrives and holds back. Could that be to prevent any musketeers, who might have followed, from going past him and getting involved in and thereby fouling what was their set-up 'plan'? Interestingly, when Athos lists Milady's misdemeanours, TB actually drops his voice when he finally declares she is his wife so only Aramis and d'Artagnan potentially hear the admission – and her, of course. Perhaps there is a musketeer code of silence anyway. After all, they had to be sworn to secrecy when they play-acted Athos' funeral. They did not look as if they were genuinely mourning, even if dear Porthos did manage to get caught up in the moment and shed a tear! If any of them saw her on a darkened street that night, would they later recognise her many months later as the King's mistress?

Likewise, when d'Artagnan challenged Athos in the street, he did refer to Athos' wife before he 'shot him dead' but who would have known her – or even cared. They were too caught up in the spectacle.

That's my reasoning for my particular plot and if it is a gaping loophole, then I profusely apologise to you, the readers. I had good instructors for loopholes (lol!) Namely the writers themselves!

CHAPTER 21

Anne could not believe what she had just heard and, her legs suddenly unable to hold her up, she allowed Aramis to guide her as she sank down onto the nearest seat. "His wife? But how? When?"

"Some sixteen years ago. Before he became a musketeer," Aramis explained as he pulled up a hard-backed chair and sat beside her.

"But he did not bring her to Paris with him. Why was she not with him?" Anne was fascinated and her mind was already filling with a plethora of questions.

"Because for five years, he believed that she was dead on his orders."

Anne's brow furrowed. "I do not understand. On whose authority did he give such an order and why?"

"He had the authority. He was the Comte de la Fère, she his Comtesse and she murdered his younger brother; she stabbed him to death."

Aramis could tell from her expression that the Queen was searching her mind for something and it was some time before she spoke again. "La Fère? I remember Louis saying something about the family. Theirs was an old name going back generations, I believe. I have a vague recollection of an austere-looking man in late middle-age being presented to me at court many years ago; it must have been shortly after Louis and I were married. I was very young and most of the noblemen seemed ancient." She gave a slight smile. "That must have been Athos' father. He did not come often to court, preferring not to leave his estate. Now, where was it?"

"Pinon," Aramis reminded her.

"Pinon, that's it. Then the news came that he had died and his eldest son had inherited. To think that was Athos and I never knew. I possibly met him for he would surely have come to Paris to see Louis on inheriting his father's title." Anne was finding the notion strange that she might have encountered Athos in the days before he became a musketeer. On reflection, it was not so hard to accept that he was titled – his bearing, mannerisms and accent all suggested a noble birth and it was common for sons of the nobility to gain their commission in the musketeer regiment.

"That I cannot say," Aramis went on, "but he met and swiftly married Milady, another Anne."

"I never asked her name," the Queen breathed. "It was enough to know her as Milady de Winter."

"I don't suppose she was likely to become your close friend," Aramis observed drily.

"No," and she gave a light laugh. "I had no intention of that. So, what happened next."

Aramis shrugged. "For all the time I have known Athos, there is still much about him of which I am unaware. He, Porthos and I were put together by Tréville and were a close working unit as well as friends, but it was five years before we knew anything about her, and even then he admitted it first to d'Artagnan. He only did that because she had reappeared like a ghost and tried to murder him. It seems she bribed her executioner to let her escape. Does she still wear a broad band of ribbon or jewellery around her neck?"

Anne nodded.

"That is because she carries the mark of the hangman's noose on her skin. Athos believed her dead. He had not stayed to see her die; he couldn't. He was besotted with her and she had lied to him and then killed Thomas, his brother. It nearly destroyed him. We knew he was troubled by some dark event in his life because of the way he drank himself into oblivion and categorically refused to speak of his past, but Porthos and I gleaned snippets on occasions. He had mentioned a woman and said that she had died but we did not know she was his wife and sentenced by him to die for her crime. Porthos and I always suspected that Tréville knew more about his past than we did; that was why he persevered with him as a musketeer and shaped him."

"I long sensed that there was a strong connection between the two of them," Anne said softly.

"Tréville was like a father figure to all of us but with Athos, it was more. His death, I am convinced, was a major contributing factor to Athos' resigning his captaincy and leaving." Aramis' thoughts turned to the beautiful time piece that he kept safely in his rooms. He was waiting for the most appropriate time to give it back to its last owner but felt that Athos was not ready for it just yet. Perhaps when all this mayhem was laid to rest.

"Do you recall when Louis sentenced Athos to death for murder and robbery and it was a race against time for us to clear his name?" Aramis continued. Anne did. "Well that was down to Milady. She wanted revenge and almost fed him to Richelieu in her haste. That was when she tried to kill him after that; she set fire to his chateau in Pinon and left him to burn in it. D'Artagnan rescued him on that occasion."

A dreadful thought occurred to the Queen. "Is she still trying to kill him?"

Aramis gave a bitter laugh. "No. He spared her life after she threatened to kill Constance."

"I never knew that!" Anne was horrified.

"We didn't tell a lot of people – only Tréville knew the truth. She made up some story to explain her bruises to Bonacieux for he was still alive at the time. Anyway, Athos banished her from Paris and warned her that if he ever saw her again, he would take it upon himself to kill her."

"But she came back and he did not do it,"Anne remonstrated.

"Because the King, your husband, made her his mistress. Athos could not act upon his threat when she was receiving royal attention and protection."

Anne gasped. "As much as I found it hard, it must have been equally difficult for him, seeing her being so brazen with Louis."

Aramis nodded. "It was tearing him apart along with the guilt at discovering that he still loved her, despite what she was. He could not reconcile that passion with the memory of what she had done, especially when she started to claim that she had acted out of self-defence, that Thomas had tried to force himself upon her. Athos was in utter turmoil; he did not know if he had misjudged his brother for all those years and done her a grievous wrong by not believing her. Supposing she had been innocent all along? To have hurt her as he had done was eating away at him.

"After that, he always maintained that he made her into what she became, that he is the one responsible. I've thought long and hard about it; I have no proof, you understand, but I would not trust her. I think she has lied to him all over again about Thomas. She wanted him back, you know, and I have a horrible feeling that he was weakening, but then war broke out and he did not see her for over four years. By that time, he had met Sylvie and the rest, you might say, is history, but even that did not run smoothly for him. He was so damaged by Milady that he found it very difficult to allow himself to love again. Sylvie was a very special woman; with her patience, she taught him how to find some semblance of that happiness once more."

Anne wiped at a tear. "The poor man. Now he has lost her too and his son. No-one should be expected to endure such pain and sadness. At least I see now why they did not marry." She reached for Aramis' hand and clung on to it tightly. "I often thought it strange, for there was no obvious reason as to why they were subjected to a relationship like ours, but it was all because he was not free to do so."

"When Milady came back to Paris from England, she was surprised to discover that Athos had moved on. She made a point of finding out about Sylvie, of engineering a means of meeting her. That was when she must have realised she had finally lost Athos for good and who knows how she felt about that? Suppose she has let her jealousy fester for three years?"

The Queen did not follow his reasoning. "We will probably never know."

"I don't agree." He reached for her hand and spoke softly, not wanting her to believe that he was blaming her for anything, but eager for her to understand how her actions had made worse an already untenable situation. "Think on what you have done, what you have unleashed with your order. You have given her licence to kill Desmarais. What do you think will happen when she finds out – and she will find out – that you want her to kill a man for suspected treachery and he just happens to be the one who gave the instruction to his men to use any force necessary to quash an uprising in a village, an act that resulted in the killing of the woman her husband loved and the son she bore him."

Anne could find no answer but did not dare break eye contact with Aramis.

"It can go one of two ways as I see it. Firstly, she could rejoice at that news and consequently renege on that agreement with you, preferring to throw in her lot with the man behind the disposal of a woman she hated. That an innocent child died as well is immaterial. Secondly, she could go through with the assassination but how does that give Athos any sense of justice, of closure for Sylvie and Raoul? How will he feel when he discovers that his murderous wife is responsible for denying him any sense of retribution?"

She was still lost for words, choked by an overwhelming sadness and pity for Athos, and a burgeoning guilt at what she had done.

"Anne," he pleaded, "you have to send to her, tell her to stop. You can still pay her but she must not be the one to deal with Desmarais. I have yet to convince Athos to bring the Baron alive back to Paris to let justice be meted out, but he deserves to be at the forefront of that, to have some control over what is happening."

The Queen did not have to think twice. "I will send to her immediately. Whilst I write, please find Guillaume for me; he knows where she can be found."

II

Benoit's luck was holding. Either that, he considered, or the majority of the soldiers within the garrison were not blessed with independent thought, reliant instead upon the orders they received from those in authority.

He had been hiding away in the storeroom for nearly two hours in a cramped corner behind the boxes as he thought about what he might do next. Most ideas that came to mind were swiftly dismissed on account of being wishful thinking or, worse still, tantamount to guaranteeing immediate capture and torture. He automatically assumed that the musketeer recourse to punishment and displays of their authority must depend upon the dispensation of varying degrees of pain – nay, agony. Groaning aloud, he shifted position to ease the joints that had stiffened through his inactivity.

"I'm in enough pain here as it is," he grunted as he vigorously attempted to rub life back into his complaining calf muscles.

He would wait until nightfall and then venture back out into the yard to resume his search for Athos. However, he had no more notion of what he would do to the man when he found him than when he had first sneaked into the garrison. The only thing he had determined was that he was not going to engage in any sword fight, for the man truly was a demon in human form when it came to his skill with a sword. Benoit had to give him a grudging respect for that, but it still did not solve the problem of how to kill his target.

Shooting him from any range was completely out of the question. Only a fool would think to discharge a weapon unexpectedly when surrounded by soldiers. For reassurance, he fingered the hilt of the dagger secured on the belt at his waist. If he found the right room, he could stab him as he slept, but that did not solve the problem of how he was going to find him. He doubted that any of the doors would helpfully bear the name of the musketeer there and it was hardly appropriate to work his way through the buildings, opening doors as he went, in the hope that all the rooms' occupants were heavy sleepers.

It would be his misfortune if this Athos were to be a light sleeper and instantly rouse at the slightest noise. Imagination ran riot. He, Benoit, might just have opened the door which was in desperate need of an oiling so the resultant screech alerted the man within, meaning that he would come face to face with Athos, sitting upright in bed and holding a loaded musket as the only welcome. There would be no awkward questions about a shot being fired to fell an intruder.

He was not dressed like a musketeer. Perhaps that was the answer. Find a soldier of similar height, overcome him, strip him and leave him tied up. That was bound to be easy! The place must be full of soldiers aimlessly wandering about and waiting to be struck on the head, relieved of their clothing and bound. There was another problem – he didn't have any rope. Instinctively he peered around the edge of the boxes to see if a coil of rope was helpfully lying around solely for his use. Even if he did procure a uniform, he remained uneasy about donning it and walking out into the garrison. The musketeers probably knew each other on sight anyway.

"Damn Desmarais and his orders," Benoit grumbled to himself. His employer had no idea of the difficulties of carrying out this particular order. Instead, the Baron had headed off to the sanctuary of his estate, leaving him to take all the risks. Where was the fairness in that? It would not have been so bad if he had someone with whom he could work. One other person would greatly improve his chances of success in killing his target. He was severely outnumbered and his situation preposterous. It would be better if he found some means of leaving the garrison as soon as possible, abandon this idea – not that he really had one – and try again another day, somewhere else. Athos had to leave the protective confines of the garrison at some point and he would be waiting.

What Benoit would not admit to himself was that he was scared. Yes, he had been Desmarais' 'right-hand' man for some time but he had earned that position through loyalty and hard work, sometimes following some very unsavoury orders but he had never had to carry them out alone. When he had been required to 'teach someone a lesson,' they had been ordinary people who were unlikely to put up much resistance. They were not dangerous and highly skilled ex-soldiers safely ensconced within the midst of a hundred or more trained and serving soldiers. This was madness. His knowledge of any sort of fighting and use of firearms had been learned through trial and error as he worked; he was not experienced to cope with this … this Athos. As far as Benoit was concerned, he had been sent on a suicide mission and he was not paid enough for that.

Then he tried to be more positive. If he were successful in disposing of the former officer, perhaps it would give him more leverage in demanding more money from Desmarais. After all, the Baron was being amply rewarded for his work with the Spanish so perhaps it was time for Benoit to benefit from that arrangement too.

His musings were interrupted as the door to the storeroom was thrown open and he shrank back into his hiding place, holding his breath. He had caught sight of a man and boy.

"There, Alain, you pick up that box of vegetables while I take these two," the man ordered. He must have been the regiment's cook and the boy his assistant. "We'll get back to the kitchen and you can wash and prepare them whilst I carry on with the meat."

"Yes, sir," came the lad's eager reply.

Benoit's eyes widened in fear at the prospect of imminent discovery and he stealthily drew his dagger for he knew the top box behind which he hid contained some sort of green vegetable, although he had not stopped to study it.

It was portentous that they moved to boxes closer to the door and did not approach him. He might have taken one of them easily if they were startled but the other could easily raise the alarm. As they made to go, he gently exhaled but then the cook spoke again.

"I forgot to bring the keys with me. I will entrust them to you and you must come and lock the door."

Benoit heard the boy mumble a reply but he was disturbed by what he had heard. If he did not move quickly, he would be locked within the storeroom for that door was its only means of exit. He had no intention of spending the night in here especially as the next day would increase the chances of his being found.

He had to get out now.

III

Anne had written and dispatched her missive to Milady whilst Aramis went to his apartment to wash and change. Once ready, he returned to the Queen to discover that the outcome of the errand was not good.

According to the housekeeper remaining at the property, Milady de Winter had already packed and departed in her carriage earlier in the afternoon.

He had tried to remain calm, not wanting to upset the delicate peace that had been restored between the Queen and him. She was watching, wide-eyed with worry as he absorbed the disappointing news.

"What will you do now?" she asked as soon as the messenger had taken leave of them.

"It is too late to do anything now for by the time we get organised, it will be dark. She will have a few hours' head start on us but she is slowed down by being in a carriage whereas we will be on horseback. We must make ready to depart at first light."

"And Athos? Will you tell him?"

"I have to, Anne. I cannot keep this from him," Aramis said. "The others will need to know too about why we must change our plans and leave earlier. I had hoped Athos would have the opportunity for further rest before we rode out."

"Will he be strong enough for the journey?" Anne was genuinely concerned.

Aramis sighed. "I hope so. At the very least, grim determination and the need to fulfil his task will keep him in the saddle and focused to get to Desmarais' estate. What happens then is anyone's guess."

"I am so sorry," she whispered. "I did not mean to create more problems. I thought only to keep you, Athos and the others safe."

He put his arms around her and drew her close, kissing her forehead as he did so. "I know you did it with the best of intentions, Anne, but let this be a lesson to you about acting on your own and making your own decisions. It worries me that you open yourself up to danger like that and I cannot help but wonder why you felt it necessary to employ Milady in the first place. Thank goodness you have had no recourse to use her before."

Resting her head against his chest, she went still in his arms and was relieved that he could not see her face, would not detect that there was yet another important fact that she was withholding. It was one more secret, one more lie between them, but she could not tell him.

She had no way of knowing how he would react if he ever learned that she had already used Milady de Winter to assassinate her traitorous brother-in-law - Gaston, Duc d'Orleans.