Jacqueline's POV

Social climber? D'Artagnan's words echoed shamelessly through my mind. I felt hurt that he would accuse me of seeing this man, this King as a means to improve my social status. Anger seized me. After all, did not I, we, just save his sorry self? Guilt replaced the anger. Yeah Jacqueline, but it is your fault he was even in the dungeon. He was trying to protect you. I never felt worse about anything in my life. D'Artagnan had kept my secret and helped me out. I stopped at the door still thinking when I heard Charles' voice.

"What do you think of her?" Curiosity caused me to wait and listen. What does d'Artagnan think of me?

"She's a handful," d'Artagnan replied.

"Or two," Charles laughingly added. Sadness at d'Artagnan's answer and anger at being laughed at by Charles made me wait no longer. As I quickly opened the door, both men turned to me, their eyes locking onto my body. D'Artagnan's eyes roamed me briefly, but intensely before, he looked down at his hands. He has never looked at me that way before. Does he really think I look that pretty…He is blushing, I cannot believe it? Confusion came over me as I tried to discern his behavior and I shortly forgot Charles was even there.

"Hello Jacqueline," d'Artagnan said, looking at the floor. It sounds wonderful when he says my name…Why is he not looking at me? "Where's your brother?" Panic crossed my face and I felt the color drain. "Oh, he must be hiding; I forgot he's an outlaw now." He is angry, but why? No… he is jealous, the 'great' d'Artagnan is jealous…Pride surged through me.

"As are you," I replied, raising my eyebrows and cocking my head slightly to the side to dare him to say more. Charles spoke up, and I wondered how much he would notice of the exchange.

"You must come to England with us; Jacqueline is going to be my Queen." He said it proudly, as if bragging. Embarrassment and anger filled me. How dare he assume? How dare he do that in front of d'Artagnan? I could see the shock and betrayal on d'Artagnan's face; his jaw was practically on the floor. Could he care for me so? My heart wanted to believe that was so. I quickly responded.

"…Your majesty I don't recall accepting." The response I knew was automatic, not to mention I was watching d'Artagnan so closely, I did not know what I said really. D'Artagnan looked back up at me, his face changing over to hope and relief. Why do I care if he thinks I am marrying Charles? Is it any of his business? My mind was in a raging battle over my heart. Charles did not like my response or d'Artagnan's reaction.

He mockingly retorted, "Perhaps you love someone else?" Both of us instantly looked at d'Artagnan, who looked back down at the floor. Love d'Artagnan? Impossible or is it? The battle continued. Realization hit me. I DID love d'Artagnan. All the retorts and insults were a way of denying it. Charles knows what I did not. He knows my secret that not even d'Artagnan knows. I thought numbly. Charles was a King, a good man, a respectable one. D'Artagnan was arrogant, but loyal, trustworthy. But, d'Artagnan and I could never be, and he will not leave France. The battle for my heart between the two was over.

"D'Artagnan, would you excuse us?" I asked as my heart broke. I could see him fighting back emotions and he did it the only way he knew how, with sarcasm.

"Come on Clive, let's go pick some mushrooms," he answered. He looked at me one last time as if branding my image into his mind so he would not forget me, and then he walked out, taking my heart with him. I turned back to Charles, wondering if I would ever see d'Artagnan again.