Disclaimer: I don't own anything belonging to either Alexandre Dumas or his descendents.
Chapter Five: Boarding House?
"For love of God and country, release me from this den of transgression foul demon!"
Madame Rougiem rolled her eyes skyward and sighed. Aramis looked slightly startled and shot a quick glance at his three friends. D'Artagnan and Porthos were both valiantly attempting to hide a smile behind their hands. Athos simply sat back in his chair and twirled his burgundy about in his glass. When Elizabeth was dragged in, she was fit to be tied.
"You!" She hissed upon sighting Porthos sitting rather nonchalantly on a couch, her hands contorted into claws, "This was your idea!" She lunged across the small table at the unsuspecting man. Not used to such violent reactions from a woman, Porthos was ill-prepared for her.
"Help!" He cried out, imploring his friends to save him from the hellcat attempting with great fervor to claw out his eyes.
"You can't handle one meek little woman Porthos?" D'Artagnan commented with a sly grin, "You must be getting old my friend."
"Meek!?!" No one could be certain whether it was Porthos or Elizabeth who exclaimed that. It sounded more incredulous than offended, so it was assumed to have come from Porthos.
That might very well have been the ignoble end of our dear friend Porthos had not fate intervened in the guise of Madame Rougiem who pulled Elizabeth from Porthos' throat and began to scold her. Much to the Musketeers' surprise, the woman took it with a bowed head, in much the same posture they themselves took before Monsieur Trèville when he wished to have a less than pleasant word with them. When Madame Rougiem had finished, she turned to see what condition Porthos was in.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." He choked out.
"You don't sound fine." Indeed he did not. As a matter of fact, he sounded like he'd swallowed a rather large portion of gravel. "Janice," she motioned to a servant, "fetch Monsieur Porthos a glass of wat-" at Porthos' pleading look she amended herself, "wine. Anjou if we have a good year left."
Once the servant had left, Elizabeth didn't waste a moment on pleasantries. She put her hands to her hips and began speaking in tone that Moses' wife must have taken with him when he returned from a ridiculously long trip to Egypt. "It's been nearly two weeks Athos! Where have you been? Do you have any idea what I've been through? And here you sit, pretty as a peach and haven't even said good day to me! I have half a mind to-" At a sharp gesture from the Madame, she sighed and dropped her hands and her tone became more level. "It's wonderful to see you again Monsieur, how do you and your companions fare?"
"Well, less Porthos, I'd say we're all doing well. He seems to be having trouble breathing though." Athos replied with a slight smile at her rapid change in attitude.
"How distressing that must be for him. Please give him my condolences" Despite her words, she sounded quite pleased with herself.
Athos was pretty sure Porthos would do him harm if he attempted to pass on her condolences, so he didn't. "Mademoiselle? I don't believe you've met our friend d'Artagnan. D'Artagnan, this is Elizabeth." D'Artagnan stood and bowed, and Elizabeth replied with a curtsy. "As for your earlier question, we've found out quite a bit about your sons."
Elizabeth immediately recognized his words as a covert way of giving her his information. He obviously didn't trust the Madame. For her part, Elizabeth may not have liked the woman, but she did not believe her capable of deception in a matter like this.
D'Artagnan was not as quick-witted has Elizabeth however. "You have sons? What're their names?"
She rolled her eyes and gave Athos a pleading look. "I don't know, they were taken from me at birth, that's why I asked Athos for help."
"I thought you wanted to know about-" Porthos' query was cut off by a glass of wine spilled in his lap by the servant. It did not occur to him while he was scolding the servant that Aramis might have tripped the poor girl to stop his idiotic question. By the time Porthos was done, he'd forgotten his question anyway.
Athos moved on before Porthos could get his bearings. "Would you like to take a walk Mademoiselle?"
"I'd love to-"
But she was interrupted by Madame Rougiem. "I absolutely forbid it. Walk unescorted with a Musketeer? Your reputation would be in ruins."
Elizabeth thought she might choke. "My reputation? I've been living in a House of Ill Repute for the past fortnight, and you're worried about my reputation?"
"House of Ill Repute?" Porthos raised an eyebrow, "That's a novel way of putting it." He turned to his friends, "I've always thought of it as a whorehouse."
"I'll have you know..." The Madame began.
"Oh dear," Elizabeth sat down with a sigh and glanced at Athos, "here she goes again. You'd better get comfortable."
"…that my establishment is a respected source of comfort and pleasure amongst the upper classes." The Madame continued as though she hadn't heard, "Men who keep no mistress or do not wish to be kept by one, come to me from the highest levels of society. Why just the other day…"
Elizabeth leaned closer to Athos and whispered in his ear, "It's the story of the Count de Fère, brace yourself. I've never seen him myself, but the Madame is positively enamored with him." Athos turned sharply to give her a questioning look but the Madame had already continued.
"…a particular Count of my acquaintance came seeking companionship. He comes here often you know, because he knows I can be counted on to be discreet..."
"Ah, yes," Aramis mumbled under his breath, "you seem to be quite discreet."
"And because I always have the best. He knows that I will not reveal his gambling problems or his tendency to pay a bit late on his bills." Madame finished with a glare for Aramis.
"Why is she glaring at me?" Aramis asked Elizabeth, "You interrupted her half a dozen times, I only did it once." Elizabeth shrugged at him in reply.
Athos sighed deeply and repeated his offer to Elizabeth.
"I'd be delighted." She answered before Madame Rougiem could object.
"Fine, it's your life you're ruining." Madame muttered under her breath.
Athos stood and held out an arm to Elizabeth who took it immediately. With a warning look to his friends, they left the room.
"He likes her." Aramis stated once they had left. Porthos choked on his wine.
"You're joking!" D'Artagnan gasped.
Aramis smiled a strange little half of a smile, but said nothing.
Out on the street, Elizabeth and Athos walked until they came upon the riverfront. Athos led her to a bench where they sat a few minutes in silence before he gained the courage to speak.
"Angels and ministers of grace defend me."
"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth stopped and looked at him, a bit affronted that he felt the need for such help in his dealings with her.
Athos shook his head. "You're not about to like what I'm going to tell you, so forgive me my prayer." When she didn't say anything he continued, "These men, these Sons of the Sign, they were recruiting a peasant army to storm the Bastille and release the men being kept there. The men at Chapelle Mansounx were royalists; men loyal to the king who had slipped into the army with the hope of dissuading the rest of the men."
"But men kept at the Bastille are commoners, why would blue-blooded aristocrats care about them?"
"It was to be a diversion. Their real goal is the Louvre, and the king."
Elizabeth jumped to her feet "We must warn the king!" At the self-suffering look on Athos' face, she sat back down with a sheepish lop-sided grin, "Oh, you probably already thought of that, being a Musketeer and all, sworn to protect the king…"
"Yes, I did. Or I told Monsieur Trèville anyway. The king is safe."
"Well then, disaster averted, what made you think this would upset me?"
"I haven't gotten to the upsetting part yet Elizabeth. I keep getting interrupted."
"Me dispiace."
"What?"
"It's Italian. It means I'm sorry, please, go on."
After a pause, Athos took a deep breath and continued, "The elaborate plot designed by these men all fall back to one person. A man calling himself the Count de Fère."
"I thought they were working for the Comte."
"The imposter Comte works for the imposter Count."
Elizabeth sat for a moment and Athos wondered whether she had actually heard everything he had said. "You mean that the man responsible for my uncle's murder has been staying to be serviced at the same house I have been living at?"
Oh, she'd heard everything all right, her tone left no question of that. Athos suddenly felt very sorry for the man, and he had as much a reason as she did to hate him. Athos' thoughts were interrupted when she leapt to her feet and nearly broke into a run. He stopped her by grabbing her arm. "Where are you going Elizabeth?"
"Where do you think?"
"No."
When Elizabeth turned to him, murder was plainly evident on her face, "No? Do you truly think to stop me Athos?"
Athos let go of her arm, but she didn't get far. "He's not there."
She stopped and turned to him. "What do you mean he's not there?"
"Do you think I would have left Madame Rougiem's house if he was?"
Elizabeth sighed in defeat. "I suppose you know where he went? We are going to follow aren't we?"
He grinned and offered her his arm, "Of course we are. Calm yourself, Mademoiselle, you are in excellent care. The best of the Musketeers are at your disposal." They left the park.
"I thought your job was to protect the king, not the people."
"I believe my words were police the people, not protect the people. And this plot was directed at the king, and therefore our business. We have been ordered to deal with it."
"Why?"
"Well, like I explained, the king's safety is being questioned by these men, so Aramis, d'Artagnan, Porthos and myself have been-"
"No, I mean why are you even including me? You don't need me."
Athos stopped and Elizabeth walked a couple of steps before stopping and turning to him. They stared at each other for a long moment across the few feet between them.
"You're right, I don't." Athos sighed and brushed a hand over his face. "Maybe it's because you care so much about your family. Maybe because I know you'd follow us anyway if I told you you weren't coming." Elizabeth laughed at that and they continued on their way.
When they arrived at the 'boarding house' they entered the drawing room only to find the three Musketeers and the Madame in a rousing game of whist. Aramis and d'Artagnan seemed to be losing by quite a bit. They were the first to look up when the two entered, and they both threw down their cards, a sign the game was over.
"Well?" Aramis asked.
Elizabeth looked to Athos who answered for her. "She now knows what we know."
Porthos stood and offered his hand to the Madame. "So now what?"
Elizabeth grinned, "Pack your bags ladies, and meet at the west gate in two hours. We've got bad guys to catch."
Porthos gave out a loud whoop and left the room. Aramis and d'Artagnan's exits were a bit more restrained, but no less hasty. Elizabeth gave Athos a final smile before heading upstairs.
She didn't hear Athos' final whisper. "Because, dear girl, you remind me so very much of myself before I lost my faith in the world."