Author's Note: I ment to have this up last night, but I started a new job Sat and been working everyday since. Anyways...Chap.4 the last one will be up this week sometime and 'The Chosen Ones' will be updated today I hope. Many thanks to Jessica who was my beta. Give lots of feedback. Meg
Jacqueline's POV
Jacqueline sat in the booth across from d'Artagnan. She had on the dress and cloak she had worn to the dock, that fateful day she almost left France. Would she have really gone? She knew the answer. Charles had offered her freedom and if he had kept his promise…She shook herself and looked towards her companion. He seemed to be lost in thought, staring at her. She could see the admiration and love reflected in his eyes. She shifted slightly and tried to smile.
"What are you thinking?" She asked conversationally before realizing she probably would not care to know. His face broke into a teasing smile.
"I was thinking how lucky I am to be sitting here with the most beautiful lady." Jacqueline felt her face flush and she looked down at her hands. Time to change the subject she thought to herself. She desperately searched her brain for other material, but her now empty stomach, would not let her think. The food arrived, and Jacqueline was grateful for the distraction. The trip had been rough on her, and she had been thankful to arrive at the cottage to change clothes before going to the tavern. She chewed on her food slowly, lady-like and took a sip of wine before she dared to look back up at d'Artagnan. To her surprise, he was still staring at her, but this time she saw concern in his eyes. Dread entered her. He would be asking, No! He would be demanding an explanation soon. She corrected herself. What would she tell him?
D'Artagnan's POV
D'Artagnan sat staring at Jacqueline. She was beautiful in her dress and cloak. His heart ached that she could not dress like this always. He did not often get to see her dressed like this and he savored the moment taking in every detail of her. He noticed with some satisfaction that she had on a dress that defined her as a lady, and not a farmer's daughter. His memory went back a few months and he thought about the heated words they had exchanged when he tried to order her a dress. He had been furious when he later found out she had gone back and ordered a couple dresses on her own later. Now, he was glad she had done it, even if her pride had not let him pay for them. Jacqueline seemed to come out of her own thoughts and noticed his stare. She shifted slightly, seemingly uncomfortable with his close observation of her person. She had never before been uncomfortable.
"What are you thinking?" She asked him. He smiled brightly before answering her.
"I was thinking how lucky I am to be sitting here with the most beautiful lady." There! I said it, and it was not a lie either. He braced himself for one of her famous glares, but she did not give one. All that happened was her face grew red with embarrassment and she looked down at her hands. Jacqueline embarrassed? He did not think he had ever seen her embarrassed before. He threw compliments at her all the time, and she either gave him a retort or a glare…sometimes both. Why this one? Why now? As the food arrived and he ate, he thought. She would tell him tonight what was going on. He would demand it!
D'Artagnan stood outside Jacqueline's door, pacing. She had gone to bed hours ago and he had thought desperately about what to do, and what to say to her. He continued to pace .It was killing him not knowing what was going on, or how to best help her. He was still debating knocking on her door when he heard her start to groan. She grew louder and then she started to scream. "No!" He hesitated again, wondering if he should go in or wait. "Forgive me," she said, her voice was lower, and he had to strain to hear it. "NO!" She went silent now, and he could wait no longer. He opened her door to find her sprawled on the bed, sheets twisted and wet around her, hair soaked and stuck to her face, while tears rolled out from her closed eyelids.
He went over to her, sitting on the edge of the bed and gently shook her. "Jacqueline, wake up." She opened her eyes staring at him curiously.
"You had another nightmare." He informed her. He took a cloth handkerchief from his pocket and wiped her tears. His hand dropped to her hand and he took hold of it, staring at her.
"Jacqueline, I think it is time for you to tell me what is going on." Her face paled and she tried to pull her hand back, but he held on firmly.
"There is nothing going on." She lied, he knew, she did not even try to look at him as she answered.
"Jacqueline, you are acting strange…vulnerable…you do not get upset with me anymore." Her face flushed again.
"I can not tell you, I can not tell anyone about my nightmares. I…" She trailed off fresh tears starting. He leaned closer to her now before speaking.
"Jacqueline, when will you trust me? Have I not proven I can keep your secret?" He looked directly into her eyes now. "Let me help you." She took a deep breath.
"You might hate me after I tell you." She warned and they sat staring, waiting for her to speak.
