Many thanks to my most excellent Review Mavens…

Evenstar Elanor… Vive le France? LOL.

Utsuri… I thought the trust thing was important to keep. The trust between Athos, Aramis, Porthos, and D'Artagnan is too deep to ignore.

Angoliel… I believe you did just quote Captain Jack Sparrow.

Mercury Gray… Thanks. I was shooting for cute and a little sappy (hopefully it wasn't TOO sappy). I mean, this is a romance and all. Best be careful tho, lest Louis start to flirt back…

Sweet A.K… Glad you liked the proposal. I tried to make it just a hair over the top because of A) the era, and B) Aramis in the book and most movies is represented as a poet (in addition to all his other attributes), so it seemed to me that any proposal he offered would stray towards being a bit on the dramatic side.

Zelinia… Welcome! I'm so glad you like the story. No, I've never seen this "Young Blades." I'll have to look into the show a little. Funny that there is a Jacques there, too.

Chapter 25: Another Walk in the Garden

Athos opened the door to his suite and looked at Aramis. After a split second, he stepped aside and invited his friend in. The thought that Aramis would be his son-in-law in a few months was still a little disconcerting. Athos, however, had mostly come to terms with the idea. He knew Aramis' feelings were sincere, and several people – namely Porthos, D'Artagnan, and King Louis – had all repeatedly reminded him that there were far worse things in the world than Aramis for a son-in-law.

"Natalie will be down in a moment," said Athos as he poured a cup of wine and handed it to Aramis.

"I have been looking for Porthos," said Aramis. "Have you seen him?"

"He has gone to see his tailor in Paris again."

"His tailor? Mon Dieu, does he not have enough suits?" Aramis shook his head. Porthos' love of fine clothing was well known.

"Enough suits?" Athos laughed. "Aramis, you are to be married in two months, and rather than a Musketeer, our dear friend Porthos has the opportunity to dust off his title and be introduced as the Baron du Vallon. And a baron cannot be introduced in an old suit."

"And you will be introduced as the Comte de la Fere, the father of the bride," Aramis reminded him. "It will be an affair to remember."

"Ah, titles. They can be as uncomfortable as an ill-fitted suit." Athos waved the comment away, not wanting to pursue the topic; discussing his title had always settled ill with him. But the mention of his title turned his thoughts to Natalie. Someday I will be gone and Natalie will become the Comtesse de la Fere, and someday one of her children – her and Aramis' children – will take the title.

"Athos?"

"Ah, just the ruminations of an old man," said Athos. "As Natalie draws closer to marriage, I find myself becoming slightly maudlin and inclined allow my mind to meander to unusual thoughts." He left it at that and said no more about what he was thinking.

Footsteps upon the stairs halted their conversation. Athos glanced out the window. Outside, the sun had all but sunk below the horizon and the darkening sky was filled with streaks of crimson and gold. His eyes turned to the clock.

"It is a little late for a walk," said Athos, as his paternal instincts finally broke free. "You will have her back before ten. You are engaged, but she is not yet your wife. I expect she will remain my virgin daughter until after you have wed." Athos' bluntness did not surprise Aramis.

"On my honor, she will remain that way until our wedding night, Athos. Fear not."

Natalie came into the room just in time to hear her father's comment and gave him an arch look. "Oh, Papa! Do you still fear he will indulge in the manly art of wenching?" she said with a sigh and mischievous smile.

Athos stammered and sputtered, and finally spit the words out. "Manly art of wenching?"

Aramis, for his part, concealed his laughter quite well. He remembered Natalie telling him that she had eavesdropped on their fraternal conversations when she was little. When D'Artagnan had been much younger, Porthos and Aramis had both schooled him in what Porthos had cheerily referred to as the "manly art of wenching." And they had all applied themselves studiously to the subject. Obviously, Natalie had overheard more than a few salacious conversations.

Natalie laughed. "Oh, Papa. I used to sneak down the stairs and listen to you when your friends were at the house. I have heard many stories from Uncle Porthos, D'Artagnan, Aramis – and even you – about the romantic indiscretions of your youth. I recall the descriptions were quite colorful, even if I didn't understand some of what you were talking about…"

"You eavesdropped on me? What did you hear? No! Wait… I don't want to know any of the stories you may have overheard! I would die on the spot from the shame. You were always an impudent and sassy child," said Athos.

"I vow to you, Papa, never shall the secrets of the arts pass my lips to another's ears." She said it with such a solemn and serious face that Athos couldn't help but start to laugh, despite his chagrin. Bolstered by his laughter, Natalie looked shyly at Aramis. This was the first walk alone – after sunset – that her father had permitted, and she had been looking forward to it all day. Aramis held out his arm and they walked out the door together.

A bit of an interlude chapter… Hope you liked it. There should be another one coming close on the heels of this one. Hopefully, I can post by the end of the weekend. Please read/review and let me know what you think. Thanks – as always – for taking the time to read my work. I do appreciate it!

Disclaimer: The only things I can truly claim as my own are Natalie, Jacques, 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.