Trouble
Lauren left Gil's delightful company after only an hour. After seeing the rich décor and meeting the suspicious maid, she did not fancy meeting up with Gil's parents. I'm sure they wouldn't approve of a crazy like me, she reasoned. It's for Gil's own good. These thoughts and more were tumbling through her head as she walked back to the garrison beside Siroc. The man was being even quieter than usual, giving Lauren more opportunity to wallow in her thoughts. Stop getting so attached—so he likes art and history, but so do a lot of nice American boys living in 2006. For godsakes, he is history! It's not like he's real… She repeated the last over and over in her mind until she reached the garrison, but for some reason, the butterflies in her stomach still did not believe her.
Jacqueline, Ramon, and d'Artagnan were waiting for them as they entered the lab; the woman was leaning against a counter while the other two sat across from each other at the large wooden worktable. Siroc looked at the gathering and wondered aloud, "Did someone neglect to tell me about a party?"
"Duval has an assignment for us," the female musketeer replied eagerly, a glint in her eye that Lauren had never seen before. There was anticipation and triumph present with a hint of unease hidden between.
"Apparently the Captain found out that the new recruit is a spy for the Cardinal," d'Artagnan said sheepishly, avoiding Jacqueline's victorious smile. Lauren blushed a little as she remembered the other night with Gil in the garden, and she retreated to her room to leave musketeer business to the musketeers. But the girl did decide to leave the door open, just in case something interesting came up.
"We need to figure out a way to either use him or get rid of him," the Spaniard broke in between bites of a cheese Lauren could smell all the way in her corner.
D'Artagnan finished their explanation with, "And since you are the brain of the bunch…"
A few days later, a small number of musketeers and a young woman lingered outside the garrison to watch a horse and rider approach. Drawing the gelding to a halt, Gil swung down from the saddle smoothly, but Lauren detected a hint of a wince on his face as his feet connected hard with the ground. She put on her best smile for the musketeer, freshly back from sick leave, and stepped forward to meet him, the skirts of her blue dress swishing around her slippered feet. "So good of you to return from your vacation, Chantal," D'Artagnan drawled sarcastically; he had kindly offered to wait with the girl to welcome his comrade back.
Gil opened his mouth to reply to his friend when a certain grey-clad soldier caught his eye. The handsome recruit saw the gaze as his cue to leave, and the spy turned and ducked into the shadows of the stables. "He's still here," Gil growled, more a statement than a question.
"Quiet," Lauren told him softly, reaching over to take his arm. "I'll explain later…" The girl grinned up at him until a warm smile melted his darkened features, and then she gently dragged him inside. "Be a dear, d'Artagnan, and attend to his horse," she called over her shoulder gaily. The older musketeer smirked and shook his head, but he obliged the crazy girl and grabbed the horse's reins to lead him away.
The young couple made their way to Gil's rooms in a companionable silence. Lauren had not visited him at home but the one time, fearing to meet his mother and make a fool of herself. She had missed him terribly in that short interval. He distracts me more when he's gone than when he's actually here! she thought, irritably twitching her skirts with her free hand.
Ah, the dress. That had been d'Artagnan's subtle suggestion this morning. Normally Lauren would never approve of dressing up just to please someone, but the boy had spilled blood for her—With the lack of medical technology here, he could have died over that stupid cut!—and if a silly blue dress could make up for some of that, then she would wear it for as long as he wanted her to. Reaching his room, Gil opened the door and gestured for her to enter in front of him. Lauren paused a moment, her head cocked to the side to honestly say, "It's good to see you."
He beamed down at her and replied, "Thank you. It's good to return to something so beautiful."
She stepped into Gil's room to hide a blush, thinking, I've really got to stop turning red every time he says something nice. "Why do you get the big bed and nice furniture and everything?" the girl whined aloud, plopping down at the foot of the bed to pull off the slippers Jacqueline had given her. These flats are killing my feet! she complained in her head.
"Because I'm the one who has to risk his life for France everyday, and I deserve a good night's sleep," the young musketeer teased back, opening his wardrobe and rustling through some of his clothes.
"Humph!" Lauren replied with mock resentment. "Well maybe if all the warriors slept on rock mattresses like mine, they wouldn't have the energy to fight." After a moment of puzzled silence, she burst out laughing at the strangeness of her statement. The girl let herself fall backwards on the bed as she shook with mirth.
Gil looked over his shoulder at her, smiling in amusement. "Lauren, you know what I think?" he asked, coming over to perch on the edge of the bed.
She looked up at him and giggled in reply. "What, O dashing musketeer of mine?" she sighed.
"I think you are positively giddy." The musketeer leaned down to meet her lips with his own, kissing her softly. She happily accepted the gentle reward until one of his hands found its way around her back, and Lauren suddenly remembered herself.
She pulled away, rolling off the bed and standing on the far side. "Gil, I don't think we should—I can't…" the girl was too flustered to finish, and she looked down in embarrassment.
The musketeer crossed the room and put quieting fingers to her lips, ignoring the flinch they caused. "Do not ever be afraid of me, Lauren. I have a duty to protect you, even if it's from myself." Lauren dared to look up at him and saw something in his face she did not expect—Is he nervous? she wondered, watching the corner of his mouth twitch. Gil met her eyes steadily. "I have something I want to ask you, Lauren. I know that we haven't known each other long, but I feel like there is something between us that is so familiar—do you know what I mean?"
The girl's breath caught in her throat. He can't be about to… But all thoughts escaped her as the musketeer lowered himself on one knee before her. "Gil," she began shakily, placing her hands on the man's shoulders, "I think I know what you are going to do—" But Lauren froze at a knock on the door. Duval had forbidden her to be in a musketeer's room, and if he found out… "Should I hide?" she whispered frantically.
Gil placed his had over hers on his shoulder, reassuring the panicked girl. "No, it's probably d'Artagnan." In a louder voice, he called, "I'm busy right now, come back later."
The door opened anyway to admit the Captain. Duval strode in, his face turning red as soon as he caught sight of Lauren. "You?" he roared. "Get out right now!"
Out
Lauren burst into Siroc's lab to the surprise of the four musketeers gathered there. She was wide-eyed and panting from practically being chased down the hall by the insane man with a cane. The Captain entered behind her with Gil only a split second behind his uncle. Wasting no time with niceties, Duval bellowed, "I found her in a musketeer's room without a chaperone. Did you know what she was doing?"
Siroc, with a flicker of a surprised glance in the girl's direction, hastened to interject, "Sir—"
"No, no more excuses," he roared at the inventor that had been so quick to defend Lauren. "Ever since she got here she has been flouting the rules—public indecency, inciting the men into fights, seducing a musketeer…"
Gil now spoke up to protest indignantly, "Uncle, I was not 'seduced!'"
"Too late for an opinion, Gilbert," the Captain replied turning slightly to unleash his fury on his nephew, "you're out of the musketeers. And she…" He pointed to her in anger, and she flinched under his gaze. "She is out—tonight!"
Lauren pleaded from her place in the center of the room between the five soldiers and their captain. "Please, don't blame Gil. It's entirely my fault—don't ruin his future because of me."
Siroc continued to appeal to Duval on the girl's behalf. "Captain, she has nowhere to go. She doesn't know anyone else in the city, and she doesn't understand how to live here. I beg you to reconsider, sir."
The older man's voice became one of hushed anger for his next statement. "Siroc, she was in a musketeer's room for who knows how long—"
"We didn't do anything, I swear. Please!" Lauren turned to the other musketeers, willing them to speak on her behalf. "You know me, tell him that I wouldn't—I couldn't…" No one believes me! she thought hysterically. Tears began to streak down her cheeks as she fell to her knees. "Captain Duval, please! I love him."
Suddenly her heart pulled, like it was being ripped from her chest. She fell forward, catching herself before hitting the ground face first. Is this what love does to you? What do I know about love? I love my parents, my brother, my dog, Bud… Her watering eyes spun wildly about the room, seeing disapproving and worried faces spin before her. Their mouths moved, but the words came slow and warped to her ears.
"…actress," came from Duval. He took her upper arm and pulled Lauren roughly to her feet. She was half-dragged outside to the street and left there to stumble away. She could hear the Captain's final words: "If I see you near the garrison, you will be arrested." Lauren crossed the street, falling again to her knees once she reached the dark alleyway between two shops. From her hiding spot, she saw Gil run from the garrison, looking frantically up and down the road.
At that moment she realized how stupid she had been. I would have ruined his life. He wanted to marry me—a noble son of seventeenth century France! He would be disgraced by me. He would be cut off from his family and probably from the musketeers too. And then the last scene flashed through her mind again. I did ruin his life. Duval kicked him out because of me. She pulled back farther into the shadows, watching the boy of her thoughts search desperately for her. "Don't worry about me, Gil," she whispered. "I'll make this right."
Gil finally ran down the avenue, out of her sight, and Lauren sighed heavily. She slid down the wall to sit on the ground, getting her dress filthy but not really caring. She stared at the garrison across the street, watching people stroll past it going about their daily lives. She did not move even as dusk began to set in. The windows across the street began to glow with the light of lit fireplaces and candles. The girl recognized the frosted glass of Siroc's workshop and, higher on the wall, Duval's bedroom. The man would follow through on his threat of arrest, she had no doubt, so what was she to do?
Lost in her contemplation, she almost did not see the lone evening walker exiting the garrison. Lauren caught a glimpse of his grey uniform hidden under a long black cloak. The man strode quickly to the corner where a scruffy looking man held a finely groomed and tacked horse, a liver chestnut or dark bay. Now the girl's attention was grabbed and she observed the musketeer as he slipped a coin to the peasant and mounted the steed. He shot a furtive glance back over his shoulder as he turned the corner, and Lauren identified him as the handsome recruit. The Cardinal's spy.
She knew what she had to do.
Rising to her feet, Lauren sent a desperate telepathic message to Bud, the horse standing somewhere in the stables across the road from her. Please, Pony, come when I need you for once! She let out the whistle that she used to call him to the pasture gate at home, a low note that slid into a higher pitch at the end. After only five or six blasts, she heard the sound of trotting hoof beats on cobblestone that caused her to wince—Bud's unshod feet were probably slipping all over the place.
There was no time for regrets now, however, for she had a criminal to catch. Using a crate in the alley as a mounting block, she waited for Bud to find her and come to a halt. She had barely hiked up her skirts and settled down on his bare back before he took off down the road, navigating the empty streets without any direction. Lauren grabbed handfuls of mane and held on for dear life, trying to sit the wild canter. Bud seemed to know just where to go, and Lauren did not dare question it. This is a dream after all…
Siroc rubbed his forehead; today had been out of the ordinary to say the least. Between trying to figure out how to convince Duval to let Lauren come back and planning how to catch the Cardinal's spy in the act, even his mind was stretched to its limit. He looked up as Ramon made his excuses to leave. "I have patrol," the Spaniard explained with none of his usual gusto; all four of the musketeers felt a little shaken by their two problems. As soon as he left, the inventor delicately laid out the idea that had been he had been forming in the back of his mind all day.
"Jacqueline," he began, and the woman looked up at him with steady eyes. Meeting that blue gaze, the inventor knew that she had the same thought. "I think you could go undercover to get the spy's secrets."
"No," burst out d'Artagnan without hesitation. "No way—she can't do that."
Jacqueline drew a sharp breath, about to launch a livid tirade against the man when a voice came from the corner.
"I'll do it," Lauren said flatly.