What's in a Name?

Chapter 6

Where Love Grows

Please, God, let lightening strike me now, she thought. Could he actually be so determined to keep his secret from her that he would risk her saying yes? But that would be stupid, she told herself; he had his pick of women in Paris and she was definitely not the type he'd choose. He was just trying to get a rise out of her. Even so, she could feel her heart starting to race. Now I'm being stupid, she thought. The last thing she wanted to think about was marriage, especially to an egotistical man like him. "You're changing the subject."

"I'm not, you are. I had asked you about marriage."

"You just want to avoid my question."

"And now you're avoiding mine."

"Ok then, tell me, do you propose to all your girlfriends that way?"

"Are you saying you're my girlfriend?"

"I didn't say that."

"But you didn't say no."

"Just answer the question."

The panic was getting worse. This was not going the way he wanted it to. Why couldn't she have just given him a simple yes or no answer? He was beginning to think she enjoyed torturing him. "Are you against marriage in general or just marriage to me?"

She finally turned her head and looked at him. "Sometimes I really don't understand you. Nearly every woman in Paris has a crush on you, which you obviously enjoy, and yet you insist on playing this game with me. First off, no woman wants a proposal of 'then marry me'. A proposal should be at least a little romantic. Second, what woman would accept a proposal from a man whose name she doesn't know? But then again, maybe those women in Paris wouldn't care if you didn't tell them. After all, you are the son of the Great D'Artagnan."

D'Artagnan flinched.

"But since you insist on this game, then suppose I would say yes. Then what? 'The son of the Great D'Artagnan marrying the daughter of a dirt-poor farmer.' Not to mention one with a price on her head. That would be quite a story in Paris. And a big blemish on the family name. And what happens when you get tired of me as your wife? Then am I to stay at home with the children and the cooking and cleaning while you run off on your Musketeer business or whatever else you wished to do, patiently waiting for you to decide to come home?" She sighed and turned to face the road again. "I have no desire to be married, D'Artagnan. To anyone."

D'Artagnan sat there looking at her for a moment, realizing how little he really knew her: her wants, her wishes, her dreams. Having known it would not be easy to win her over, he was finding out just how hard it would actually be. He had sworn to himself that he would never want her to change for him, but it was now becoming clear that he was expecting her to.

What she said had hit him like a slap on the face. Naively, he had been dreaming of the perfect life with her, but she was showing him the harsh realities of the very things he had refused to see. He had expected her to fall madly in love with him and be happy just to be his. But in reality, she had seen so much hardship, especially lately, that he couldn't blame her at all for being cautious, maybe even scared. And he had to consider what would happen if they could not get her name cleared. How could they have any kind of life as a man and woman when she was wanted for murder? She had once said that she would not leave France and it would be unfair of him to expect her to, just to make him happy. He was finally getting a glimpse of the real Jacqueline, and what he saw made him love her all the more.

They rode on to town in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. When they reached town, Jacqueline continued on to the garrison while D'Artagnan turned toward the mercantile. Once there, he dismounted and walked in to check to see if he'd received a post yet. He was anxiously awaiting a reply from Aramis.

The store clerk checked through the bag of mail and pulled out a small letter addressed to him. D'Artagnan nervously took it and tore it open. It was written in a neat, flowing handwriting which he immediately recognized as his mentor's.

Dear little D,

I'm sorry this is short, but I'm preparing to leave soon with

your father. I wanted to let you know that I will try to answer

all your concerns, though I'm not sure how helpful my advice

may be to you.

So, the mighty D has finally fallen. I'm happy for you. I knew

some day you would. I'm sure that if you do love her, then she

is worthy of it, without question.

A small bit of advice I will give you now. Remember that a

woman does not give her love easily, even when it screams to.

Often what she says is not what she truly feels in her heart. And

anything that is worth having is not easily won.

Aramis

As he read the short note, disappointment came over him; Aramis had written nothing in his lines that told D'Artagnan what to do. And now there were even more questions to ask. Never before had D'Artagnan been at a loss as to how to get a woman to fall for him; usually a smile and a kind word and the woman was willing to do nearly anything. This experience was foreign to him; what had started as a challenge was now something that consumed his every thought. Aramis had always been D'Artagnan's confidant, unlike his father, and would keep his secrets, but would Aramis also keep secret the basis for the letter? D'Artagnan hoped so; he did not want to face questions from his father.

He put the letter in his pocket and left the mercantile to return to the garrison. The letter brought back the fact that he had not yet told Jacqueline the news Duval had told him. But that could wait until morning, as he knew what her reaction would be, and he needed a good night's sleep before he faced that.

Jacqueline, upon returning to the garrison, was preparing for her few hours of patrol. Thankfully, it was not with D'Artagnan, she thought. The time away from him would do her good; at least she would get to have a conversation that didn't include the word marriage in it. When the patrol was over, she'd be free to crawl into her bed. She was starting to get confused about everything he had said over the past couple of weeks and needed peaceful sleep, hopefully it would ease her mind and let her think clearly again.

By midnight both were tucked soundly in their beds, eyes wide open, and minds still not resting. Jacqueline wondered if she had been too harsh with him; after all, she knew that he wasn't serious about marriage, but it bothered her nonetheless. D'Artagnan was also thinking of the afternoon's conversation, trying to understand why she never took him seriously and always brought up his past dates; she should know him well enough to know that he would never do anything immoral with them.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny outside, while inside, the garrison was coming to life again. Everyone, including D'Artagnan and Jacqueline, was rising and preparing for the day. Both looked out their small windows at the sunlit Paris street, thinking that such a nice day had to be a good omen.

Jacqueline finished dressing and left her quarters to get breakfast. Finding the dining room full already with the other Musketeers, she decided to eat in the common room. She sat down in a chair next to the fire and began eating.

After debating how best to tell her, D'Artagnan finally left his quarters in search of Jacqueline. Finding her sitting in the common room, he put on a smile and went inside, sitting in a chair next to her. "Morning Jacques."

"Morning," she said in between bites.

"Guess who's coming to dinner," he quickly said before he lost his nerve.

She stopped eating and looked at him, "The King of England."

D'Artagnan made a face, "Ack! No! Guess again."

Not being overly curious about it, she answered, "Why don't you just tell me and then we'll both know?"

"Well...maybe after that, I shouldn't tell you at all." He started to get back up out of his chair, thinking that maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. Perhaps it was best just to let her be surprised.

Jacqueline grabbed his sleeve to stop him, almost spilling her food on the floor. "Geesh, you are so infuriating! Who? Who is coming to dinner?"

He sat back down, a smug look on his face. "My father."

She looked away from him, her mind busy thinking. "Hmm, wonderful. I think that's wonderful news!"

He looked at her curiously, realizing she was enjoying the news too much. "You will not get over your fascination with him, will you?"

She had a gleam in her eye as she looked back at him, a small smile on her lips, "I just think it's a great opportunity."

His look changed quickly from curiosity to suspicion, wondering what she was up to. "Opportunity for what?"

Jacqueline got up from her chair still holding her plate, ready to make a hasty retreat. "To ask him. I'm sure HE'LL tell me what he named you." And with that, she quickly walked out of the room.

D'Artagnan sat stunned watching her leave. Suddenly he realized what she had said. "Oh my...! Jacques, wait!" He got up and ran after her.