Thanks, as always to my reviewers…
Angoliel… Pompous and conniving are two excellent terms for Luc.
Sweet A.K… I'm most pleased you're happy with the plot. Always rewarding to know the meanderings of my imagination are bringing some enjoyment here and there.
Mercury Gray… No, Aramis isn't doing well. We'll get back to him shortly, I promise.
Utsuri… All in good time my friend. All in good time.
Evenstar Elanor… For that time period, many times wooing the father was the way to go. Just trying to have at least a flavor of historical accuracy.
Chapter 15: Madame Blanchefleur's
There was ample room for horses in the stable adjacent to Madame Blanchefleur's. Luc and his compatriots dismounted and gave their horses to the stable boy. Laughing and boasting they walked into the well-appointed waiting room. Madame Blanchefleur's was the most renowned brothel in all of Paris, and if you called it a brothel to Blanchefleur's face, you'd likely get slapped. As far as she was concerned, a brothel was for common prostitutes. Her ladies, while they weren't the supreme courtesans of the day, they were far more educated and classy than a common harlot.
The waiting room was large and spacious and from it you could see into three more sitting rooms. A set of stairs rose in a lazy curve to a second floor where more private rooms could be found. Each woman at Madame Blanchefleur's had her own room, decorated to her specific tastes and personality. There were vases of roses and lilies around the room, perfuming the air with their heady scent.
Luc and the others stopped as the door closed behind them. Lounging on a velvet sofa was a woman with perfectly coiffed hair and makeup so artfully done that she could have been 20 years old or she could have been 50. Only she knew the truth. Her green eyes were highlighted by the silk and velvet gown she wore. A pearl choker surrounded her throat and the emerald that dangled from it rested artfully above the swell of her breasts. From her repose, Madame Blanchefleur was not entirely pleased to see Luc, but she masked her true feelings.
"Monsieur Luc," she said with a smile. "How kind of you to grace my house again."
"We are in need of entertainment, Blanchefleur," said Luc. "What lovelies are free for our whims and pleasures tonight?"
Blanchefleur rang a small silver bell and nearly a dozen young ladies walked into the room. They smiled at the young men and batted their eyelashes. Luc, Armande, and Roussel gazed back frankly; Jacques blushed and looked at the floor and then back up again.
"Ah, sweet Melicenda," said Armande. He reached out a hand and a slender woman with black hair and fiery black eyes came up to him with a seductive smile. Armande smiled back. This little Spaniard had been a lioness the last time they had been here, and he'd found himself dreaming about her. He would be very content to sample her pleasures gain. She took his hand and led him from the room.
Roussel found his eye falling admiringly on Colette, a blond woman with a voluptuous figure. She smiled and winked at him. Next to her, a tall woman with red hair stood up. She was known only as La Roux, and she was one of Madame Blanchefleur's most experienced ladies. Although she had some very loyal and regular patrons, La Roux's kindness and patience often made her the one to introduce inexperienced young men to the arts and pleasures of the boudoir. She glided over to Jacques and put her arms around his neck.
"Monsieur Jacques," she purred. "I would be honored if you would keep me company."
"It would be my… pleasure," he said a little awkwardly. Jacques blushed again and the others snickered. La Roux took his hand and drew him up the stairs to her private room.
Luc watched him go. "La Roux will make a man out of him yet," he laughed and then he let his eyes rove over the rest of the women. Then his eyes fell on one woman who remained discreetly in the back ground. She noticed his gaze and coquettishly looked away, her auburn hair falling across her face.
"Blanchefleur, who is this new one?" He pointed at the auburn-haired woman.
"That is Yvette," said Madame Blanchefleur. "She is new here. You may find her not quite experienced enough for your liking…"
"No, she will do just fine. Come here, Yvette." Yvette came over obediently and disappeared into a room with Luc.
More than an hour later, Jacques lay on the bed while La Roux ran her fingers through his hair. He was thoroughly exhausted – and sated – for La Roux had taught him several new ways to please a woman, and a few ways that a woman can please a man.
"You're thoughts are far away, Jacques," she said. "Have I not pleased you?"
"Oh, no, La Roux. Oh, you have pleased me."
She smiled. "Then why is there a crease on your brow?"
"I don't like something that Luc is doing. I think he is going to hurt an innocent mademoiselle."
It would not be the first time, thought La Roux. "Then why do you not stop him?"
"What can I do? And if I interfere, I will have few friends…"
"Strange that you consider him your friend. I don't think the son of Duc D'Avignon really has any friends."
"Roussel and Armande are his friends," said Jacques, disquieted by La Roux's observations.
"Are they? Or are they simply his lackeys?"
"I cannot command them; I am just a new Musketeer…"
"Ah, there is that, but you say it as if it was a terrible thing."
"I have no experience, La Roux. I wear the uniform, but I have earned no respect yet."
"Do not say that, Jacques. You are a Musketeer. That alone tells me that you have earned respect. You are a Musketeer and you are a man." She leaned in and kissed him. "I know you will do your duty; you will serve with honor when it is required."
Just then there was a hard banging on the door and Luc yelled, "Enough already, Jacques! Pull your britches back on; we must return to Versailles!" Jacques turned scarlet and La Roux looked darkly at the door.
"He has neither class nor sophistication nor common courtesy," she muttered.
As the others gathered their things and bid adieu to their respective ladies, another Musketeer arrived. Porthos swaggered in wearing a sharply cut jacket that managed to cover his girth rather well.
"Ah, Monsieur Porthos!" Madame Blanchefleur laughed. "I am delighted to see you."
"You are, as always, a vision of elegance and grace Madame Blanchefleur. Venus herself could not rival ze shine of your beauty. But tell me, where is my darling, my nymph? Where is my beautiful Daphne?"
A young woman with ample curves, dimples in her cheeks, and a mass of curly brown hair seemed to appear out of nowhere. "Is it true? Is he here? I heard his voice! Is the Hercules of France here?" Daphne knew it was Porthos and she knew how much the nickname amused him.
"I am here, my gorgeous nymph. Come to me, my lovely!" He opened his arms and Daphne ran to him, settling into his lap and kissing him repeatedly on the lips and cheeks.
"Off with the two of you," laughed Madame Blanchefleur.
Porthos picked Daphne up. "First we will go into the anteroom to get reacquainted before we retire to your lovely boudoir."
"Whatever my Hercules wishes," giggled Daphne.
Luc and the others came down the stairs, Colette and Melicenda had remained in their rooms but Yvette came down with Luc, clinging to his arm and not seeing the annoyed light in his eyes. She pressed herself against him. From where she stood on the balcony, La Roux tried to call Yvette away, but she was ignored.
"I would be delighted to entertain you again, monsieur," Yvette said. She was new at the Madame's and was eager to establish some regular patrons and begin building a reputation.
"This is not the time to discuss it," said Luc, trying to extricate himself from her embrace.
"But the monsieur seemed quite pleased with his entertainment. If there is something else I could do to please him… OH!" The last thing Yvette expected was the back of Luc's hand and she was nearly knocked to the floor, but Luc caught her by the arm.
"When I wish to be pleasured, I will tell you that I wish to be pleasured and I will tell you how I wish to be pleasured. Now, go away until I summon you." He let go and Yvette crumpled to the floor, weeping.
While Jacques stared at Luc, stunned, Madame Blanchefleur helped the sobbing Yvette off of the floor. She leveled a hard look at Luc. "Monsieur, if there is a need to correct one of my ladies, I would appreciate it if you would leave that task to me."
"As you wish," he said off-handedly, "but perhaps you should teach them manners before you allow them to mingle with your important clients." He turned and headed towards the door, not seeing the murderous black look that Madame Blanchefleur hurled at him.
Without another glance at the Madame or Yvette, Luc said to the others. "Come my friends; let us return to our own domicile." As a group, they headed towards the door with Jacques lagging behind as if he wanted to distance himself from Luc.
From one of the side rooms, Porthos – who had been quite wrapped up with Daphne – heard the commotion. He leaned forward on the sofa but all he could see was the back of a Musketeer and a weeping lady with a red welt on her face.
"Who was that?" asked Porthos with a frown.
"Do you not know him? He is a Musketeer," said Daphne. She ran her fingers up Porthos' arm.
"I only saw him from behind; that is not the way a Musketeer should behave." Porthos frown deepened. "There is no honor in that."
"His name is Luc D'Avignon, but surely you don't wish to talk about him?" She pressed her ample bosom into Porthos and looked up coquettishly through her lashes at him. "You are here to enjoy yourself, Porthos, and I don't see you as much as I'd like." With one final look at the door where Luc had disappeared, Porthos allowed himself to be wrapped in Daphne's many charms and soon all thoughts of the other Musketeer vanished.
Outside, the four companions mounted their horses. "That was ungentlemanly," said Jacques finally, unable to silence himself any longer.
Luc only laughed. "She is just a woman – and a whore at that. Being a gentleman is an affectation for the court, nothing more. Stop being such a fool, Jacques; La Roux has addled your brain."
I think you may be the fool, Luc D'Avignon. Your cold aplomb will come back to haunt you someday, thought Jacques.
She may only be a minor character, but I really like La Roux! Anyway… I know some of you are eager to get back to Aramis, but I need to get a few other things established. He'll be back soon, I promise. But for now, please review now that you've read this chapter!
Disclaimer: The only things I can truly claim as my own are Natalie and Luc (and a few minor supporting characters). Everything else is borrowed with much respect and admiration for Dumas and the people who created various movie versions of the Musketeers.