Chapter XLVIII...in which Aramis gives Athos relationship advice, and Porthos and Aramis work with Treville to come up with a strategy to exonerate Athos and Charlotte.

CHAPTER XLVIII

When Aramis knocked later that day on Athos' door, he was pleased to hear a brief burst of laughter before a familiar voice called, "Come in!" Opening the door, he was greeted with the sight of Charlotte, her face pink, trying to wriggle out of Athos' arms as he traced her hairline with his lips.

"Well, Athos, I see you are much improved," observed Aramis slyly, coming over to the bed. "Obviously Mademoiselle Charlotte is a miracle tonic."

"But she is a very cruel nurse, Aramis. Please find me another who is a little more—accommodating."

"Athos, stop!" Charlotte begged him, giggling again as he moved on to nuzzle her neck. "Have you no shame? Right in front of Aramis!"

"Maybe he can pick up some pointers," murmured Athos lazily, continuing on with his languid exploration of her skin.

"In your dreams, Athos," retorted Aramis, as he gave Charlotte a cheeky wink. "I have already taught you everything I know. It is not my fault if your tactical deployment of said knowledge is not up to my level of expertise. Perhaps you should allow Charlotte an hour with me-"

"Stop right there," called out Athos in mock outrage. "If I could see properly, I would challenge you to swords right now, and I would show no mercy."

"That is merely a fantasy, my friend, as you can't actually do that right now, can you?" Aramis slid into the chair next to the bed and leaned back, relieved that they had seamlessly resumed their easy banter. "So stop making idle threats and release your charming nurse."

"Very well," Athos frowned in a way that could have been construed as grumpy if the rest of his face had been able to go along with it, and disengaged himself reluctantly from Charlotte. "But I reserve the right to keep her within arm's reach until you vacate the premises. I cannot have you poaching the woman I cherish under pretence of coming to check on my condition."

Aramis held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "On my honour, I will allow her to pass unmolested."

Athos feigned a sigh of relief, and relaxed into his pillow, as Charlotte stood up. The chain she wore with the signet ring had slipped out of her bodice in her mock struggle with Athos, and Aramis' sharp eyes noted it at once.

"I am going to run down to the kitchen and see if Serge has the soup ready. Behave yourself while I am gone," she instructed Athos with a smile, kissing him tenderly before leaving.

As the door closed behind her, Aramis turned to Athos with a grin. "Marking your territory, eh? I see she is wearing the la Fére signet ring."

"I gave it to her to keep in case she needed a quick escape, and a place to find refuge," said Athos neutrally. "It has nothing to do with any claim or pledge, real or imagined."

"Athos." Aramis' voice was reproachful. "I really hope you are just being evasive, because if you let that girl slip away, you will regret it forever."

His friend sighed, and slipped an arm behind his head. "Aramis, I adore her. You know that. But we are talking like I have a future. Porthos broke the news to me about the trial when he stopped by earlier. The thought of the King hearing the case and seeing the "evidence" that has been gathered makes me very uneasy. For all we know, I could be swinging at the end of a rope several days hence."

"And for all we know, you could be standing in front of a priest, exchanging the sacred vows of holy matrimony with Charlotte," Aramis retorted evenly. "Do I get to be best man, by the way?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," growled Athos, his expression darkening. "But Aramis, honestly, I am truly worried about the trial. I have several large gaps in my memory from the day of Bertrand's death that I just cannot fill. How will that look when I am questioned by the King?"

"What do you mean?" asked Aramis, concern colouring his voice.

"I mean just that," came the irritable answer. "I remember waking up here with Charlotte, then her father coming in and demanding she leave with him. I imagine I must have said or done something, but I cannot recall a thing."

"You attacked Michel," offered Aramis. "Do you not remember that? Surely such an incredibly satisfying moment would not be lost to you."

Athos shook his head, and hit the wall with his fist in frustration. "How am I supposed to defend myself? No matter how hard I try, I have no memory of the events that occurred at the shop until Bertrand started seizing, which is a massive problem. I do remember arriving there with the Captain, but after that-it is a complete blank. It will be Michel the upright apprentice's word against the word of an accused poisoner-who incidentally, has no recollection whatsoever of what actually happened—and the word of his paramour, who happens to be an accused witch."

Aramis felt his stomach twist as he considered Athos' words. "What about the Captain? He knows what happened-he was there."

"I am not at all sure how helpful his testimony will be. If he knew something important, the charges would have already been dropped." He fell silent, then asked wistfully, "Could I have another ice water compress for my eyes? If I am to die, I want to at least see Charlotte's face one more time."

"You are not going to die!" Aramis shouted, running his hands through his hair in annoyance. "That is—unless I kill you myself! Which I will be tempted to do if you continue along this line of pessimistic thought. Charlotte needs someone to lift her spirits. She is already upset enough after you-"

He stopped immediately, realizing he had made a mistake.

"After I what?" Athos' voice was deadly quiet. That particular tone was the one Aramis dreaded the most. He could deal with Athos screaming or cursing, but when his friend spoke as if ice was running through his veins, it unnerved him to no end.

Aramis sighed, knowing that the truth would have to be told. "When you first began to regain consciousness, you spoke Anne's name."

Athos cursed under his breath. "Damn her. She stalks me at every turn. I have no doubt she will worm her way into the trial with Michel, hoping to witness me being sentenced to death."

"While I am willing to grant you a moment to wallow in self-pity, you need to realize that the more important issue here is that she stalks Charlotte at every turn." Aramis spoke sternly while staring at his friend, frustrated for once that he could not directly challenge Athos' cool blue eyes. "With that little scene at the apothecary, she managed to insert a healthy dose of doubt into Charlotte's mind about whether she can ever eclipse the memory of Milady in your mind. And while I do not hold you responsible for uttering Milady's name while you were incoherent, I do expect you to reassure the lovely Charlotte that she is the one you owns your heart."

"That is what I was doing," snapped Athos, immediately becoming defensive.

"Athos, you were flirting," retorted Aramis, his voice cutting. "There is a big difference between that and allowing yourself to be vulnerable enough to tell her in an open and honest way what is in your heart. That is, if you are man enough to do so."

Athos turned white with fury. "Get out!" he shouted. "I have no need of your so-called advice."

"I will go, and happily," a bitter Aramis replied. "But you are only angry because you know I am right—and you are too afraid to go down that road. But you have been warned, my friend." As he shut the door, an enraged Athos blindly felt for the ceramic pitcher of water next to the bed. Grasping the handle, he picked it up and flung it against the wall, shattering it into pieces. Falling back against the pillows with a groan, he exhaled, trying to calm his roiling emotions. He has no idea what he is talking about. Charlotte knows exactly how I feel.

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Treville sat behind his desk, wearily rubbing his eyes. The news Aramis had brought him of Athos' spotty memory loss had been most unwelcome. He knew the way the suspicious mind of the King worked, and he was sure that a few choice, well-placed comments by the Cardinal would be all that would be needed to turn the tide against Athos and Charlotte. It had been quite some time since a witch had been burned, and Richelieu always relished any chance for the public punishment of a heretic. The prospect of that, combined with the chance to hang a disgraced musketeer, would be difficult for the Cardinal to resist.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked, feeling that defeat was closing in on them. Aramis and Porthos, usually quick to offer a suggestion, were both uncharacteristically silent.

Finally, Porthos cleared his throat. "Captain, is there anythin' you can remember—or perhaps embellish a bit—" he glanced at Aramis, "-in order to shine a more favourable light on Athos and Charlotte?"

"You want me to lie?!" the Captain was stunned by the idea.

"Listen, this is not a fair fight." Porthos leaned forward, his voice intense. "We know for a fact that both of them have been framed. What's wrong with playin' a bit dirty? It's your word against Michel's."

"The alternative," mused Aramis, "is to somehow make the so called "evidence" disappear."

"Oooh, I hadn't thought of that," said Porthos admiringly. "I like the way you think, Aramis. Captain, do you have any idea where it might be stored while they are awaiting trial?"

"No, but I could make some discreet inquires." Treville was thoughtful. "Let me see what I find out."

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As Constance turned the last corner to the Dauphin's nursery, an arm shot out and pulled her into a room. She began to shriek as a hand closed over her mouth, then relaxed when she realized it was d'Artagnan. He released her for an instant, and she hissed, "D'Artagnan! What is wrong with you? You scared me half—" Her words were drowned out as he pulled her into his arms. Before she could say another word, his mouth had descended upon hers, drawing her into a passionate kiss.

As she sighed in pleasure, her hands combing through his dark hair, d'Artagnan stopped and looked at her intently. "Can your husband make you feel like that? I doubt it. When are you going to tell him, Constance? The longer you wait, the harder it will be—for everyone."

"He got back late last night," Constance said softly, placing d'Artagnan's face in her hands. "I promise to talk to him tonight. I will not lose heart, no matter what."

"Do you want me to be there?" he whispered, finding it difficult to stop staring into her alluring brown eyes. "I will do whatever you wish. I love you—so much."

"Perhaps it would be a good idea if you were present," Constance breathed, leaning into his body as if she wished to melt into him completely. "His temper is sometimes—unpredictable."

"Done," he muttered, finding her lips once again and losing himself in the eager sweetness of her response.

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When Charlotte returned to Athos' room with a tray bearing soup and a carafe of wine, she was disconcerted to find pieces of the water pitcher lying on the floor in a puddle. Athos was still in bed, and lay motionless. He was facing the wall, but she suspected he was awake.

"What happened here?" she asked quietly, setting the tray down on the small stool next to the bed.

"Aramis. We had a difference of opinion."

"Care to elaborate?" Charlotte inquired, tucking a stray lock of hair beyond his ear as she leaned over to kiss his cheek.

"No."

She pursed her lips, disturbed by the fact that he had quarrelled with his friend. However, she realized that she was unlikely to coax the details out of Athos when his mood had changed so drastically for the worse.

"How about some soup, then?" she asked, trying to make her voice cheerful. "Serge's famous chicken soup, still piping hot from the kitchen."

Athos turned towards her. She was gratified to see that the swelling in his face had gone down just a bit, and he was able to open his eyes slightly.

"Charlotte. You know how I feel about you."

She was unsure how to respond to the way he had worded the statement.

"Yes?" she finally offered, sounding more tentative than she meant to.

He seemed agitated, and ran a hand through his hair. "I have told you—I remember that, at least-in the cart, on the way to the Chatelet."

"You mean that you love me?"

"Exactly." Relief was evident in his voice.

A thought inserted itself into her mind, and she raised an eyebrow at him quizzically. "I don't suppose I was the topic of the quarrel with Aramis?"

"Perhaps." He fell silent, then said, "Thank you for going to the trouble to fetch the soup for me, but I do not feel up to eating just now. Possibly later." He turned back over to face the wall.

Charlotte knelt next to the bed. "Athos, please. Do not shut me out. You may not be comfortable saying it again, so I will-I love you, and I would do anything for you." She paused, then continued on, her voice trembling with emotion. "If Aramis told you I need to hear the same from you, he is right. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to hear your ex-wife talk about how you could not get enough of her? And to see how the two of you still have an unmistakable chemistry even now? Well, I will tell you what it felt like. It was hell."

"I cannot control her." His voice was lifeless. "That was the problem when I was married, and it is the problem now."

"This is not about you and Milady! This is about you and me! Is she to be this shadow that remains over us forever? Or is this just your way of pushing me away to keep from getting hurt again? Either way, you need to be honest with yourself, Athos. If you cannot do that, there is no way you can be honest with me."

He remained still, and she shook her head in frustration as she picked up the tray. "I am going to take this back down to the kitchen. I will give you an hour, then I will see if you are ready to talk—but this must be resolved. If one or both of us is sentenced to death, I do not want to have any regrets."

As she left the room, Athos found his thoughts in turmoil, and he hit the wall again with his fist, tears pricking at his eyes. I want so desperately to be happy-but i must admit that there are undeniable elements of truth to what both Aramis and Charlotte have said. The thought of loving someone with my heart and soul again, after having been destroyed the first time...if I am honest with myself, it is the biggest fear I have. The question is-how do I conquer it?

Next time...Athos works up the courage to talk openly with Charlotte, and Porthos has a conversation with Denise.