What's in a Name?
Chapter 1
"Will you hurry up? We were supposed to leave about 10 minutes ago," D'Artagnan told Jacqueline.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting there," growled Jacqueline, as she worked to tighten the cinch on her saddle. The last thing she felt like doing was climbing up on a horse in the wee hours of night. Even the moon seemed to be sleeping already. Finishing, she closed her eyes and started tapping her head against the saddle, "I don't want go on patrol. I don't want to go on patrol. I don't want to…."
"You know…if you wouldn't have stayed so late at the Café last night, you wouldn't have had such a time waking up. I told you we had patrol tonight," he stated, leading his horse out of the stable.
Jacqueline, following his lead, did the same. "You didn't seem in that much of a hurry to leave either."
"But it's not me having trouble getting going," he started.
"But it's not me that's used to late nights," she complained, climbing into the saddle. "I'd rather not argue about this, if you don't mind."
Smiling, he replied, "As you wish. But I just want you to know…..it's intriguing when you growl at me."
"Oh lord! Can you never stop?" she said, feeling like taking the reins she held and using them to tie him to the nearest post. As they started the ride out of Paris, her mind was busy imagining him tied to the post, totally at her mercy. Before she knew it, they'd been riding for nearly a half hour, during which time she'd fantasized doing everything from bopping him on the head to tickling him until he couldn't talk to kissing him. She realized that that last thought had somehow just crept into her mind without her realizing it. Shaking her head, she tried to think of anything else but that.
Her companion, feeling it was best to let sleeping bears lie, allowed his own thoughts to fall back on the night before. It was Rhapsody Night and Ramon had outdone himself with his verses. The Café was already packed when he and Jacqueline had gotten there. Luckily Siroc had saved a table for the four of them. They sat down, ordered drinks, and listened to their friend. Ramon spoke of romance, but not in his usual serious way, but in a much more comical tone, touching on the lighter aspects of love and life. When he finished he joined his friends and they toasted the joy of the night. What D'Artagnan remembered most about the entire night was the laughter and jokes they made to each other. He remembered hearing Jacqueline's laugh, at first in the deeper voice she used in her disguise, but at times as she relaxed, in more of a natural tone. He found himself trying to make her laugh just so he could listen to it. The odd looks of his other companions didn't concern him. All he heard was Jacqueline allowing her inner self to come out, even if just for a short time.
D'Artagnan left earlier than Jacqueline did. It wasn't that he didn't want to stay; he just knew that if he did he couldn't be sure if he could control the emotions he felt rising up inside him. It was seldom that she allowed herself to be so free with her voice, and especially with her laughter. Perhaps it was the drinks that made her open up more, or else it was because their friendship had allowed them to grow closer so she felt more secure. The reason didn't really matter, it was just the fact that it had happened.
"D'Artagnan," Jacqueline said for the second time.
He was brought out of his thoughts at the sound of his name. "Hmm?" Looking over, he saw that she was watching him. Hopefully he hadn't spoken out loud anything he was thinking.
"Why does everyone always call you D'Artagnan?" she asked. She had often wondered about this, but never had the nerve to ask him before. Maybe she was still suffering from the effects of the drinks. But whether she was or not, she had finally asked and was anxious to hear the answer.
Confused by this question, he shifted himself in his saddle. What sort of question was that? "Well, that is my name, you know," he said, trying to figure out if she was having some sort of a momentary lapse of sanity as she sat on her horse staring at him.
"Yes, I know. But it just seems odd that no one, including Duval, ever calls you by your first name," she continued.
"Ahh." So that was it. She was fishing for personal information. He found himself amused at the thought. Of all the things she could ask him, this was one thing he had never contemplated.
Jacqueline was anxiously awaiting his answer. Finally she would know. After a couple of minutes, she could stand the suspense no longer. "Well?"
"Well what?"
No, she thought. Could he be so cruel by not answering? "Surely you have a first name," she said.
"Of course. Doesn't everyone?" he said, grinning. This could be fun, he thought.
No, no, no! Why does he do this to her? It was a simple question yet he was going to torture her. "Well, aren't you going to tell me what it is?" she asked, the frustration showing in her voice.
Fun indeed, he thought. "Perhaps," he answered, enjoying the look on her face.
"Perhaps?" The frustration now getting to her. Why couldn't he just answer her? But he wasn't going to, was he? He just sits there on his horse, that smug look on his face. When she couldn't stand it any longer, she said, "You're not going to tell me, are you!"
D'Artagnan was quite enjoying himself. Perhaps this could work to his advantage. With a gleam in his eyes, he looked into hers and replied, "Tell you what. I will tell you on our wedding day." There, he'd said it. Now it was up to her.
Jacqueline, thinking she should have seen this coming, was surprised to hear herself say, "What if I beg really nicely?" Beg? she thought. Would she actually resort to begging?
D'Artagnan replied very casually, too late to let it drop now, "Nope. You heard me. When you finally decide to share your life with me, then I'll tell you anything you want to know." Now he just had to wait to see how far she'd carry it. Then a thought occurred to him as he nudged his horse to a trot. "Just promise me you won't name our son after me." He rode on ahead, afraid to see her reaction.