Thirty Four
For D'Artagnan and Anne, the next five days passed rapidly as she gradually became acclimated to being away from the familiar, comfortable environment in which she had existed at the palace. Each morning, as was her custom, she walked to the chapel for morning prayers, and then every afternoon she took a long walk with her husband, first in the flower gardens behind the house, then progressing farther out to the orchards and the stables. And finally, on the last day, she felt comfortable enough to request that horses be saddled so she could enjoy a ride deeper into the property.
Shortly after breakfast, Porthos placed his late wife's best sidesaddle on a docile bay gelding while D'Artagnan saddled his gray stallion. Then he assisted his wife into the sidesaddle.
An expert horsewoman in her youth, it had been many years since Anne had been in a saddle, and she experienced the expected nervousness as she arranged her skirts, then collected the reins and tested her balance in the saddle.
"Comfortable?" D'Artagnan asked.
"Yes," she replied. "And a little nervous, but I am told that you never completely forget how to ride."
"That is true," he agreed. "It will all come back to you, and you will be as relaxed as you ever were. I have always thought that you look very beautiful in the saddle," he added, approvingly.
"I was thinking the same thing," Porthos said. "I remember how you used to accompany the king on horseback to his falconry demonstrations. You turned the eye of every man present."
D'Artagnan was smiling. "You certainly caught mine."
Soft color rose in her cheeks. She well remembered the way the men had discreetly admired her as she had ridden alongside her first husband. If Louis had noticed their interest in her, he had never reacted to it. But then, he had never noticed much about his young bride. He was more interested in other things. "Well, that was a long time ago," she said, modestly.
Taking the reins of the stallion, D'Artagnan mounted and gathered his reins.
"You two have a nice time," Porthos instructed. "I used to ride the property with my dear departed wife. There are many lovely areas to investigate. Angelina will have a lovely lunch prepared for you when you return."
Leaning against the paddock fence, he watched as the couple moved at a walk down the lane toward the open fields behind the populated areas of the property. They rode first past the fenced pastures where Porthos's livestock grazed. The cattle ignored the riders completely, their massive heads buried in the lush green grass, but some of the horses raised their heads and whinnied greetings to their stable mates. One particularly friendly gelding plodded alongside the fence until end of the enclosure forced it to stop. Farther out, they passed the vegetable gardens and the tall stands of grain that would feed the livestock through the winter.
For a while, the newly wedded couple rode in silence, content to enjoy to beauty of the country afternoon. They rode up gentle hills and into peaceful valleys, and through lush grassy meadows, providing the reclusive queen mother with the beauty that only nature can provide. She took it all in eagerly, as if starved for the outside world. D'Artagnan maintained his quiet observation of the area around them, as was his habit, but he enjoyed seeing his wife's face shining with happiness as she looked at everything around them.
A doe and a pair of twin fawns bounded from the grassy meadow, briefly startling the horses, and they watched as the agile animals disappeared into the safety of a dense grove of trees.
"Did you see them?" Anne asked, eagerly.
"Roe deer," he replied as they nudged their horses into a walk again. "There is an abundance of them in this area. The farmers complain because they eat the grain while it is still on the stalk."
"But they are so beautiful, and she has twins also!"
D'Artagnan smiled with amusement. "You are enjoying yourself?"
"Very much! I have been hidden away in my chambers, sequestered from the rest of the world for so many years that I feel as if I need to see everything! Porthos must own a great deal of land!" she exclaimed. "We have been riding for a long time, and we have not yet reached the boundaries?"
"We are nearing the far edge of the estate," he replied. "Yes, he owns a great deal of land, but he leaves most of it as it is, so that he can hunt occasionally. There is a secluded spot near the property line where we will stop and rest before starting back."
A pheasant took flight from under the nose of D'Artagnan's stallion, and it snorted in alarm and half feared. When it was on all four hooves again, it pranced for a few moments until it was brought under control by its rider's firm hand.
Anne's placid gelding barely flinched, allowing her ample time to admire her husband on his handsome horse. "You were on horseback the first time I ever took notice of you," she said. "You were a young lieutenant then, and you were mounted on a fine black steed. Porthos's comments about Louis' falconry reminded me of it, for you and some of the other Musketeers had accompanied us. While he watched the falcons, I watched you. I dare say, my lady in waiting noticed my interest in you and teased me mercilessly about it when we returned to the palace that evening!"
"I remember," he said with a fond smile. "I felt your eyes on me, and when I turned toward you, you immediately looked away, but I could tell by your blush that you were embarrassed that I had caught you."
"I was trying to act so nonchalant, like I had not been caught at anything, but I knew I was failing miserably. I knew it was wrong to be attracted to you, but I could not help myself."
"Nor could I. You were the wife of the king, and I was a Musketeer, a man of honor and duty, but a man nonetheless who still thinks you are the most beautiful woman on earth."
When they reached a low, rocky bluff, they circled it until they reached the other side, where a scattered cluster of trees offered shade. Here, they dismounted, intending to rest for a while before returning to the house.
While D'Artagnan secured the horses to one of the trees, Anne strolled casually to the edge of the shade to look out across the gently waving meadow grass. It was a beautiful area of the property, lush open fields, dotted here and there with groves of trees and shrubs and an occasional lone tree of larger proportion than the others. Somewhere in the copse behind her, she could hear the soft trickling of water from an unseen stream. Deep inside, she began to experience a sense of longing for a simpler life than the one she had lived.
Approaching her from behind, D'Artagnan slipped his arms around her waist from behind, and she leaned back against him, contentedly. "Happy?" he asked.
"Happier than I have ever been in my entire life," she replied. "It is so beautiful here," she said. "I can only wonder how different my life would have been had I not been born to royalty. All I have ever known is the pomp and pageantry of life at the palace. The common people, and even the nobles, look at the palace and long for such a life, never knowing the difficulties of so much responsibility. Sometimes, I wish I could trade places with them."
He glanced at her, for it seemed that they were thinking similar thoughts. His friend's rich abundance spread out in all directions, and over the past few days he had found himself wishing for the kind of life his father had known. From his arrival in Paris at the age of eighteen, his life had been spent in the service of the king. Now in mid-life, he had never known a home of his own, and experienced a twinge of envy for what Porthos possessed. "Being here with you like this makes me wish that you and I could find a place of our own, somewhere in the country where no one knows us, and where we can openly live as husband and wife."
Turning her head to look at him, she offered him a smile. "Perhaps we can," she suggested. "When you are ready to retire from the Musketeers, we will find a place far enough from Paris that no one will know us, but near enough that Philippe can visit and I can visit Louis. We will allow the world to think that I have retired to a convent, but we will live as a country gentleman and his adorning wife."
"You cannot imagine how my heart yearns or such a life. But would you be happy living away from the palace? From everything you have known all your life?"
"I will be happy as long as I am with you."
"That is the way I feel, also."
"When the time comes, we will discuss it then. As for the present, I am content merely to be your husband."
As they turned their attention back to the scenery, D'Artagnan's sharp eye suddenly caught a movement inside a dense thicket on the other side of the meadow, and he grasped Anne's arm to gain her attention.
Anne glanced quickly at him in surprise, feeling the urgency in his touch, and he pressed his forefinger to his lips then gestured toward the trees directly across from them. Shifting her gaze, fearful that they might have been caught by spies, her pulse quickened as her eyes sought out the source of her husband's sudden concern.
For several moments, she saw only the gently nodding boughs and fronds of the thick foliage, nudged by a barely perceptible breeze. And then she saw it: a shadowy figure moving slowly through the brush and entering a copse of trees. At first, she thought it was an animal, a roe deer perhaps, but as she focused on it, it began to take a familiar shape. No, it was definitely human, two of them, moving one behind the other, creeping through the undergrowth in a manner which suggested they were deliberately trying to avoid being seen.
"Who could it be?" she wondered, her voice a whisper.
"I do not know," he replied, "but I do know that they should not be trespassing on Porthos's property." Returning to the horses, he opened his saddle satchel and withdrew a musket pistol from it. "Wait here; I will confront them."
She clutched his arm desperately, fearful of losing the happiness they had finally found. "No! D'Artagnan, please! There are two of them, and you are only one!"
He smiled and gently pressed her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Do not worry, my love. They have not yet spotted us, so I have the element of surprise, and I will, as I always have, use caution. It is likely that they are nothing more than lost travelers seeking a shortcut."
Reluctantly, she released his arm, and he gazed attentively across the distance that separated him from the two intruders. They had disappeared from view, and had apparently moved to the other side of the copse of trees that concealed them. Quietly, keeping low in an attempt to avoid detection, D'Artagnan started across the sea of tall meadow grass, pausing occasionally in the protection of a single tree or shrub as he perused the thicket.
Anne watched silently from her position near the bluff, praying silently for her husband's safety as he moved stealthily across the meadow.
When D'Artagnan finally reached the copse of trees, he skirted quietly around the outside of it, walking in the tall meadow grass to avoid the fallen leaves inside the thicket. His eyes bored deep into the shadows, searching for the intruders. They were not difficult to locate even though he had lost sight of them, for they were making a great deal of noise as they pushed their way through the foliage and trampled on last year's fallen leaves. A splash of color from the jacket worn by the man in front caught his eye, and he shrank down behind a mulberry to watch and wait.
"How much longer until we reach a town or a city?" asked a feminine voice. "We have been traveling since before daylight."
"It will take a while," the young man acknowledged in a voice that sounded familiar to him. "Isabelle, you knew this would not be an easy journey for either of us."
"Forgive me," she pleaded. "I am just so tired. I have no right to complain when you can barely walk. We should have taken one of the horses."
"No, I will not be accused of horse theft. We can rest here for a short time, then we must be moving on. The longer we stay in the area, the greater our risk of discovery. Your father will have sent out a search party by now."
"He will shoot you on sight if we are discovered," she said, tearfully. "Oh, Francois! I could not bare it if you were to be killed!"
Francois!
The conversation continued as D'Artagnan crept from his hiding place and approached them, but he barely listened to it. He moved cautiously, placing each step with great care to avoid crunching leaves under his boot, and quietly pushed aside the fronds and low branches that blocked his path, following the dapples of blue fabric that could be seen through the leaves. When he reached the young couple, he found them side by side on a rotting log that had fallen many years earlier, their shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Their faces expressed weariness, as if they had been traveling a long time, and the girl wore a streak of dirt across her cheek. Francois, he noticed, carried a homemade cane to support his fractured leg, and his hand was pressing on the leg as if to sooth the pain he must have been experiencing.
"Stay where you are," D'Artagnan commanded.
Startled out of their rest, both of the young people jumped in fright, and Francois half-rose from the log. "Captain D'Artagnan!" he exclaimed as panic swept across his face, followed quickly by resignation. He heaved a heavy sigh as he sank back down on the log. "We are caught, my darling. This is the head bodyguard to the king." To D'Artagnan, he asked, "Is he here? Has he been notified of our absence?
Isabelle clutched the arm of her lover, but her pleading eyes locked with the stern eyes of the captain. "Please, Monsieur. I beg you to let us go in peace. My father will kill him if you make us go back!"
"What are you doing out here?" D'Artagnan asked. He knew the answer to the question before he asked it, but it seemed the appropriate thing to say at the moment. "You are running away together?"
Francois looked away, as if ashamed. "This is not how I wished to begin our lives together, but her father would never allow us to marry, so we decided to leave together so that we might start a new life somewhere else."
"Have you any idea what you are doing?" D'Artagnan asked. "Running away together is a romantic notion, but have you thought this through? Where will you go? How will you live?"
"I will work, Monsieur!" Francois retorted. "I can do many things beside dress and bathe the king!"
"I am sure you can," D'Artagnan agreed in a placating voice. "But Mademoiselle is unaccustomed to the sacrifices and hardships you will face. And you barely know each other. How can you be certain that this is truly what you want?"
"We have thought of little else since Francois broke his leg five weeks ago," she replied. "And we have known one another much longer than that! I have accompanied my parents to many of Louis' soirees. That is where I first saw Francois. We used to slip away together, stealing a moment here and a moment there while all the while our hearts ached that we could not acknowledge our feelings for one another." She was almost in tears. "Please, Monsieur! You have no idea what it is like to hold someone in your heart that you cannot have! I will gladly sacrifice everything I have known to be with him!"
D'Artagnan lowered his gaze with a slow shake of his head. How familiar all this sounded! All the years of longing and separation he and Anne had endured during their lives was shared by this young couple that sat before him, a couple who had the opportunity to do what he and Anne never could; leave France and begin life anew. He held their fate in his hands. "I know more about it than you think," he admitted, solemnly.
"That is why you never married," Francois guessed. "You loved someone you could not have. Then you do understand."
"You love each other?" he asked, solemnly.
"I love her with all my heart," Francois responded instantly.
"And I love him," Isabelle added. "Monseiur, my father has committed me to marriage to the elder son of de Longueau. He is a horrid man, much older than I, whom I do not wish to marry. You speak of the life of privilege I have known and all that I am giving up, but the life I would endure as de Longeuau's wife is far worse than any hardships that Francois and I might face. I am not naïve enough to believe that it will be easy. I know I have much to learn. But it is what I want."
D'Artagnan's eyes fell upon the young man, observing the way he rubbed his leg, massaging it with his hand. He had clearly been lying about being unable to walk, but after five weeks the fracture was still mending. "Your leg bothers you?"
"I can manage," the young man said.
"Pride can be a man's downfall," the older man cautioned. "Careful that you do not let it get in the way of your common sense. You have lied to the king about the condition of your injury, yet the leg is not mended will enough to endure such a long walk. You could do permanent damage."
"We had no choice. The king sends someone to check on me every few days, and they are starting to wonder why I claimed I have been unable to walk."
"A ruse, stalling for time so that might give yourself time to heal before you could set out on your lives together," he guessed.
"My father is growing suspicious," Isabelle added. "I know he has been eager to return Francois to the palace, to rid himself of the responsibility of caring for him, but I fear also that he suspects my true feelings. We knew we had to leave as soon as possible. We left during the night, so that we could be well away before the others awoke."
"Unfortunately, you have not come very far. You are on the far edge of the property of the Baron du Vallon."
The young couple looked at each other in both surprise and disappointment. "My injury has slowed us down, but I thought we must have come much farther than this," Francois said, severely discouraged.
"With that leg, you are lucky to have made it this far," D'Artagnan pointed out. "You cannot continue this way, or you may be permanently crippled. Where will you be then?"
Hopelessness was reflected in the youthful faces of the couple. Francois shook his head slowly in defeat. "You are right, Captain. As a cripple, I will be unable to support her."
"What are you going to do, Monsieur?" Isabelle asked. "Are you going to summon my father?"
D'Artagnan observed them for a moment. They were young and impulsive, as he and Anne had once been, and there was no guarantee that they would find happiness together, but what right did he have to deny them the opportunity to find out? "No, I will not deny you the opportunity that I never had, but I cannot leave you here like this either." He glanced back toward the bluff where Anne waited with the horses. Francois was inexperienced and would be unable to handle the stallion even if he was inclined to give it to him. The other horse was not his to give, and they needed both animals to get back to the manor house. Nor could he take them back to the house with him, for they must not know about Anne's presence there. "Have you food and water? What about money?"
"I have the money from my dowry," Isabelle said. "And we have some bread," she added, holding up a piece of cloth with the bread wrapped inside it. "I took it from the pantry before we left. We drank from a stream nearby, but we did not think to bring anything to carry water with us."
"I have none with me." He paused, dragging his hand through his hair and along the back of his neck, as he considered their options. The decision was made quickly. "All right; I will help you as much as I am able. You are well concealed here, so rest and stay out of sight. I cannot guarantee that LaCroix will not come onto the property looking for you, so remain alert. If you hear riders coming, get down behind that log, flat on your bellies, and stay hidden. I will bring food, water, and horses within a few hours."
Francois struggled to his feet to clutch the Musketeer's hand. "Bless you, Captain. I feared you would betray us. Louis will not be forgiving of my deception."
"He may be more forgiving than you realize," D'Artagnan said. "Now, I must take your leave. Rest, and I will return soon."
The young couple sank back down on the log, their faces bright with renewed hope.
Leaving them, D'Artagnan jogged back across the meadow to the bluff where Anne waited, and he saw the relief on her face as he approached.
"It was Francois and Isabelle LaCroix," he explained, smiling. "It seems ours is not the only covert palace love affair between people of different ranks. She said that she has been promised to a man of her father's choosing, and she has run away with her true love."
"That explains why Francois claimed that his broken leg has been healing so slowly," she mused. "He fabricated the story so that he would have more time with her."
"It seems so."
"Monsieur LaCroix will wonder about his daughter. Are we obligated to tell him?"
"If I tell him, he will drag them back, probably force her to marry someone she does not love, and both of them will be miserable. Does that sound familiar?"
She nodded, slowly. "Yes, it does."
"Not to mention the fact that LaCroix will be perfectly within his rights to have Francois severely flogged as punishment for seducing his daughter."
"So what do we do?"
He sighed, uncomfortable with the position in which he had found himself. "I should not get involved in this, but I see them facing so much of the suffering we endured. I am going to see if Porthos will let me purchase two horses from him, and provide them with some food and water, and send them on their way."
"You have a kind heart, my darling," she said, approvingly. "But where will they go?"
"He indicated that they are leaving France and they are heading north, so my guess is that they will settle in England."
Anne looked away, her expression sad. "I know that is what they want, but I cannot help but feel great sorrow for Madam LaCroix. I know what it is like to be separated from a child. There is no pain like it."
"But there is a difference. Philippe was snatched from you as an infant, and then spent many years in terrible conditions. Isabelle LaCrois is a grown woman seeking happiness with the man she loves. All women eventually leave home to start a family of their own. And her mother still has other children at home. She will be fine. And the fact remains that none of this would have been necessary had Isabelle been allowed to marry whomever she chooses. These strict rules regarding the classes have created much heartache for those who must live up to them."
"But that is the way it has always been. People of wealth and status always seek to further their standing by arranging for their children to take spouses of equal status."
"I know, but it doesn't make it right. Look at your own life, and the grief it caused us."
"You are right, but I doubt that anything will ever change."
"No, but we can help this one couple." He untied the reins of Anne's horse. "Come, the longer we delay the greater their chances of discovery."
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Porthos was seated in the parlor with a book when D'Artagnan entered. Waving the usual greetings, he got right to the point, "Porthos, I wondered if you might consent to selling me a couple of horses."
Porthos looked up from his book in surprise, then joked, "Does the palace have a shortage of suitable mounts?"
This brought a slight smile. "No." He explained his chance encounter with Francois and Isabelle.
Porthos bellowed with laughter. "I would love to see the expression on that old goat's face when he realizes that his daughter has run off with the king's valet! He holds tradition and high status closer to his heart than he does his wife."
"Are you well acquainted with him?"
"Not well, but I have met him on occasion. Not the most pleasant fellow, but he will bend over backwards to advance his rank. I happen to know that the daughter was promised to a noble of some sort and had a handsome dowry. They will not be pleased. Which makes me more inclined to offer my help. I have too many horses as it is. Take two sturdy steeds to the young couple with my blessing. No, on second thought, I will accompany you. I wish to see this for myself! Have they any other needs?"
"Food and water, enough to get them well away from Paris."
Still chuckling with glee, Porthos leaned out the door and shouted down the hallway, "Angelina!" Turning back to D'Artagnan, he said, "I will provide food and water flasks, which they may refill in the streams they encounter. I will also give them some cash, for they will need it when they cross the channel." He turned back to the door. "Angel—!"
"Ah!" she exclaimed as she shrank back, her hands covering her ears into which he had just shouted. Her expression was so dazed that D'Artagnan struggled to keep from laughing.
"Aw, forgive me my darling," Porthos purred, placing an adoring hand on her shoulder and pulling her into his arms. "I did not see you there. Do you forgive me?"
"Of course," she replied, giving her head a small shake as if to clear it. "But when you shout for me, you must look to see if I am coming before you shout again like that! My ears are still buzzing! What was it you needed?"
"Find a sack and fill it with whatever food you can find."
"Are you going somewhere?"
"No. A mission of mercy, my dear. D'Artagnan and I are taking it to someone who needs our help. We will return shortly." He gently turned her around to face the door. "Go quickly. We will be saddling the horses in the stable, so bring it to us there."
"Anne will explain," D'Artagnan told her.
The two men hurried to the stable and selected four fresh horses, all of which were hurriedly saddled. On one, Porthos placed one of his wife's older sidesaddles for the young woman. Her favorite saddle, the one Anne had used, was retained as a cherished memento. As they were finishing up, Angelina appeared in the stable door with the sack of provisions. In her other hand was a pair of blankets.
"Her majesty told me everything. I thought they might need the blankets to keep them warm at night," she explained. "I think it is wonderful what you are doing. Godspeed to both of you."
He kissed her, adoringly. "Thank you, my dear. If LaCroix or any of his men come looking for permission to search my property, tell them I am not at home and that they must come back later. We will return as soon as we can."
The two men mounted their horses, and then with each of them leading the reins of the other horses, they cantered across country toward the thicket where D'Artagnan had seen the young couple.
"I feel like a young man again!" Porthos shouted happily to his friend as they galloped through the meadow. "I thrive on intrigue!"
When they reached the copse of trees, they tied their mounts at the edge, and led the other two horses into the shelter of the trees and tied them. Then they made their way deeper into the shadows, where the young couple was waiting.
D'Artagnan was not surprised to find that both the young man and young woman had fallen asleep. "I suspect they did not sleep at all last night, waiting for the right moment to slip out of the house, and then traveling part of the night and this morning. They are exhausted."
Kneeling down, he placed his hand on Francois' shoulder and shook it gently.
Francois awakened with a start, and his wide eyes looked into the face of D'Artagnan, who was kneeling beside him. "I must have fallen asleep," he explained. Beside him, Isabelle was beginning to stir. "We were more tired than I thought." Spying Porthos behind the captain, his expression changed to fear.
"Do not worry, young Francois," the jolly ex-Musketeer said. "I have brought gifts to you and your young lady. Two horses are tied just inside the thicket, and a sack of supplies is attached to the saddle. It should be enough to get you far from Paris."
Relieved, Francois climbed onto the fallen log again, and with sleepy eyes, Isabelle joined him. "I do not know how I can repay you for your kindness."
"I have some money," Isabelle offered.
"The only payment I ask is for the two of you to get safely away," Porthos assured them. "You must go quickly," he suggested. "I will make certain the searchers stay off my land until you have sufficient time to get away."
"Thank you, Monsieur. You are most kind."
"No offense to the young lady, but I do not care much for Monsieur LaCroix. He insulted my wife for marrying someone like me."
Isabelle rose up to kiss the older man on the cheek. "Well, I think you are a kind man, and we are indebted to you."
Porthos beamed with pleasure at the girl's words and the kiss.
"Keep off the main roads," D'Artagnan suggested. "You would be safer to cut across country, keeping well away from populated areas until you are far enough away. There are water flasks with the provisions. You can refill them whenever you come to a stream."
"And take care of the horses," Porthos said. "They have served me well, and they will serve you well." He withdrew his money pouch from his pocket and placed some coins in Francois' hand. "When you reach Calais, use this to secure passage across the channel for yourself and the horses. They are good horses, better than you can purchase at a public stable, so take them across with you. They will see you to your new home."
"I will," Francois said. "But how did you know we were going to England?"
"You are heading north, and besides, if I were running away from an angry father, I would feel safer with a large body of water between me and him. One more thing," he added with a knowing wink. "Get yourselves married as soon as you can and live a long and happy life."
"Good luck to you both," D'Artagnan said as they turned to go.
Returning to the horses, they mounted and rode back to the manor house. Francois and Isabelle mounted the two horses and resumed their journey.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
As they rode up the lane toward the stable, D'Artagnan and Porthos noticed a small group of riders near the front door of the manor house. Angelina stood on the stoop just outside the front door wearing expression of intense frustration as she attempted to convince them that the baron was not presently home, and it was evident that they were giving her a difficult time.
The two friends looked at each other, then by mutual, unspoken consent they reined their horses toward the house and rode quietly toward the three riders. It was easy to guess that the riders had been sent by LaCroix to hunt down his Francois and Isabelle. Drawing their horses to a stop behind them, D'Artagnan and Porthos listened with increasing annoyance as one of them, apparently the leader of the trio, berated Angelina for refusing to summon the master of the house.
"I have already told you, Monsieur," she protested. "He is not in the house at the moment."
"You lie," the man spat with disgust. "The drunken old fool is probably still abed sleeping off last night's bender. Summon him at once!"
"This drunken old fool wishes to know why you are trespassing on his property," Porthos said with authority.
Startled, the three riders turned around to face them, and with a feeling of delight Porthos absorbed the surprised expressions that passed across the faces of all of them. Having apparently seen him at his worst, all were impressed by the transformation in him. He was now well-dressed, well groomed, and most certainly not suffering from a hangover.
"Baron du Vallon," the leader said. "I did not expect –"
"Obviously. Why do you speak to my fiancée with such insolence? She informed you that I was not in the house. What right do you have to question her?"
"I was unaware of her station," the man explained. "I assumed she was a servant."
"A servant wearing silk and pearls?" Porthos retorted. "I think not."
"I assure you, it was an error. Please accept my humble apologies."
"Do not apologize to me, you fool! To her!"
With a sigh, the man turned to face Angelina. "My apologies, my lady," he said as if the words were difficult to speak.
"That is better," Porthos said. "Now, what is it you want from me?"
"We request permission to search your property."
"Search my property? For what?"
"That is not your concern, Monsieur."
"Not my concern?" Porthos repeated. "I beg to differ. Anything that occurs on my property is my concern, and I will not grant permission to strangers to enter my land unless I know exactly what it is they are doing."
The men exchanged uneasy glances, clearly uncomfortable with revealing the details of their search, but by law they could not trespass on the baron's property without his authority. "We work for Monsieur LaCroix," The leader explained. "We are searching for something that he has lost, but he wishes to be discreet in its recovery."
"Something he has lost?" Porthos asked in a mocking tone, his eyes dancing with sudden amusement. "Indeed! Two years ago, three head of prime beef cattle wandered from my land onto LaCroix's. When I sought to reclaim them, LaCroix informed me that since they were on his land, they must be part of his property. Therefore, if whatever he is searching for is on my land, then it is now a part of my property. Good day to you gentlemen." He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Now, depart from my land immediately and do not let me catch you here again, or it is within my rights to shoot you."
Again, the three men looked at one another with uncertainty. The blustering ex-Musketeer was presenting an obstacle that they had not anticipated. LaCroix had assured them that the baron would present no difficulty, as he would likely be too drunk or too hung over to even comprehend what was going on. Clearly, there had been a drastic change in him.
After a hesitation, one of them chose his words carefully as he explained, "Very well, my lord. We are looking for two young people, one of whom has wronged Monsieur LaCroix. He has stolen something of great value, and he wishes to have it back. The young man has an injured leg, so they cannot have gone far. They may be avoiding the roads by traveling across the local estates. We wish only to find them and take them back to LaCroix."
Porthos stroked his mustache, as if considering the man's request. "My friend and I have just returned from a ride around the property. Had anyone been trespassing, we would have seen them."
"They may be in hiding."
"Or they may have traveled in another direction or have already departed from the area." After another pause, during which he pretended to mull over their request, he said, "No, it is within my right to deny you access to my property. However, if I see these people you seek I will apprehend them and return them to LaCroix. That is the most I will do for him."
The men exchanged glances again, but they knew it would do no good to argue. "Very well, then. I will inform Monsieur LaCroix. You will likely be hearing from him."
"You do that. And do not let me catch you on my land again," he warned.
Nudging their horses around the two friends, they cantered up the lane toward the main entrance.
Porthos watched the drifting cloud of dust kicked up by the horses' hooves, and smiled, happily. "After years of being the local laughing stock, I do believe I am well on the road to earning respect in this community."
"Indeed you are, my friend," D'Artagnan agreed.
"It is a good feeling!" Porthos said, savoring the moment.
D'Artagnan slapped his friend on the shoulder with great affection. "Come; let us get these horses put away. It is time for my wife and me to return to the palace."
A/N: For those wondering about Louis, he will be included in all remaining chapters. There should be about four more chapters which will tie up all loose ends.