What's in a Name?

Chapter 9

Unforeseen Problems

D'Artagnan stalked into the garrison, still very upset. All he could think about was the embarrassment he would be facing the next day; his father had missed many of his other birthdays, so why not this one? The last thing he needed was women coming up to him wishing him a happy one when he was trying to prove himself to Jacqueline. And, once again, Aramis was giving him no help at all.

As he walked past the window of Siroc's lab, Ramon called out, "Hola amigo," but he seemed not to hear him; he just wanted to go to his quarters and be alone for a while.

"What is wrong with him," Ramon asked Siroc, still watching D'Artagnan.

Siroc shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't been able to figure his moods out lately."

Ramon turned back around to watch Siroc work. "Ni yo. Nor me; he is not his normal self anymore. I would think it was a woman, but I have not seen him with one in a while."

"Maybe that's his problem," replied Siroc. They both laughed.

D'Artagnan heard none of this, his mind elsewhere, as he started down the hallway that would take him to his quarters, just as Jacqueline was leaving hers. She looked up at him but he didn't return the glance.

"Hello."

"Yeah," he replied as he passed her.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," he growled. Then, realizing who had just spoken to him, he turned and looked at her. "Sorry. Got a minute?"

"Well, I…" she started as he opened his door and walked in, leaving it open for her to follow. "…guess I have a minute."

She followed him inside and closed the door. "What's up? Patrol didn't go well?"

"Yeah, it was fine."

"Ok…then is something else wrong?" She waited for him to answer, but instead he just stood there looking at her, making her nervous. "What?"

"Nothing." He tore his eyes away from her, wondering what excuse he could come up with for inviting her in.

"I know why your father's here."

D'Artagnan looked back at her. "And why is that?" Surprisingly, his question seemed calm; he could already imagine that the entire garrison knew.

"He asked me not to tell you."

He stood up straighter, eying her suspiciously. "My father? You talked to him? I just saw him and he never mentioned having talked to you."

Jacqueline replied, nonchalantly, matching his gaze, "He did, he just didn't know it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all," she said, a grin coming to her lips as she turned and headed back out the door.

D'Artagnan watched the door close behind her, knowing what she meant, though he couldn't believe it; she wouldn't have taken a chance like that. Opening his door, he glanced out into the hall to see which way she had gone, and then he hurried to catch up with her. "Tell me what you meant by that!"

"I told you it was nothing!" she said as she continued walking.

"He's worth risking your life for?"

Not looking at him, she replied matter-of-factly, "I didn't do it for him." She continued walking toward the stables, knowing that if she didn't leave now she wouldn't make it to her destination and back before nightfall, D'Artagnan following behind.

Neither of them had noticed Ramon's and Siroc's heads watching them from the window of the lab during this exchange, both of them with raised eyebrows.

"You know, if I did not know them so well, mi amigo, I would really have to wonder about them."

Siroc thought for a moment as he watched them start into the stable. "Nah, not those two. Especially not D'Artagnan."

D'Artagnan and Jacqueline remained oblivious to everyone around them, not realizing that anyone else could hear their conversation, as they headed into the stable.

"Who did you do it for then?"

"D'Artagnan, the world does not revolve around your father," she stated as she went to the tack room for her saddle and bridle.

Without thinking, he took the saddle from her and carried it out to the pen that housed her horse. "Everyone acts as though it does."

She unlocked the pen and walked in. "He is a novelty, you know. How many people get to live long enough to be a living legend? Of course everyone's going to be fascinated by him." She worked to put the bridle on as D'Artagnan saddled the horse. "Why didn't you tell me Aramis was coming too?"

"I didn't know until a little while ago."

"Is that why you're in a lousy mood?"

"I'm not in a lousy mood."

"Yes, you are, and I don't appreciate you taking it out on me."

"I wasn't," then thinking for a second, "was I?"

"Yes." She took the reins and started leading her horse toward the street, D'Artagnan following close behind, his mind busy thinking.

"Jacqueline…"

In a loud whisper, she quipped back to him, "Will you keep your voice down? I'd appreciate the whole town not finding out who I am!"

Coming back to his senses, he apologized as the realization hit him that she was leaving. "Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Do you need to know everything I do?"

"No," he said, feeling a bit disappointed that she wouldn't share what she was up to. D'Artagnan was beginning to feel as though she was pulling away from him, and he didn't like that feeling at all. Tonight they started back on their week of patrol together; at least they'd get to talk again, something they hadn't been able to do much of lately. He'd have to worry about tomorrow tomorrow.

Jacqueline stood there watching the emotions in his eyes; she was fascinated at how expressive they were, none like she'd ever seen before. Except for her father and brother, she had never allowed herself to be close enough with any other man to study their expressions. But why did it have to be this man? Because, she thought to herself, he had been true to his word to keep her secret safe; she cared because she trusted him with her life.

While she had been almost mesmerized watching him, he had been studying her. Taking a step closer to her, their eyes locked, he quietly asked, "Why don't you just admit that you love me?"

Afraid of what she was feeling welling up inside her, she stammered, "Because I don't love you. I don't love any man."

"Then why are your eyes betraying you?" He couldn't stop himself from asking her; sure that he had seen something in them.

The horse moved at that moment, breaking the spell that they seemed to be under, and reminding Jacqueline of her mission.

"D'Artagnan, I have to go."

Stepping back so she could mount, he fought the urge to take her in his arms, even if the entire town saw it. But he knew that that would be the worse thing he could do.

Once mounted, she glanced down at him. "I should be back in three or four hours."

"Remember we have patrol tonight."

"I know."

D'Artagnan watched her ride off, wondering where she was going that would take her so long; perhaps she'd tell him later while they were on patrol. Feeling happier than he had all morning, he remembered the look he'd seen in her eyes that was giving him reason to hope; that, and the fact that she didn't hit him when he remarked about it.

Smiling at the thought, he let his eyes scan the street, looking for signs of his father and Aramis. At least while she was gone, he would be able to talk with his mentor; that is, if he could find a way to keep his father occupied so they could speak alone. Searching, his eyes stopped on a small group of young women across the street, all looking at him as they spoke amongst themselves. Thankfully Jacqueline hadn't noticed them, or had she? He wondered how his mother had withstood years of glances like that toward his father, as well as the flirtatiousness, but he never heard her complain about such things; she had never complained about anything having to do with his father. Even on her deathbed she had nothing but love and understanding for him, explaining to her son that he was a Musketeer long before she entered his life and his dedication to it was one of the things she loved most about him; but it was something he, the son, could never understand.

Reverting his thoughts back to the present, he started off in search of his elders, not giving the women a chance to cross the street and corner him about tomorrow. Knowing those two, he thought, they could be anywhere. He had no idea how true that was.

As the subjects of D'Artagnan's thoughts walked into the small, damp room they heard the door shut behind them, a key turning in the lock. After their eyes adjusted to the low light, each took a seat on the bench by the wall.

"Well, that didn't go well at all," the senior D'Artagnan sighed.

"It probably wasn't the best idea to name names to the guards."

"I think you're right. Who knew they'd react this way?"

"They do belong to the Cardinal, and apparently aren't any smarter than they used to be," Aramis replied, trying to make himself comfortable.

D'Artagnan laughed, "That's plain to see. I honestly didn't think they'd throw two old, retired Musketeers into the dungeon."

Aramis smiled. "It's comforting to know things haven't changed that much. Funny though, all we've done in the past and never ended up here and now we get arrested for something we took no part in."

"Yeah. This is not going to go over well with my son."

"I think he'll understand…I hope. So, now what do you suggest?"

"Well…I think I'm going to try for a little nap. Sooner or later either the Prince or Duval has got to hear about it and get us out."

"I hope it's sooner than later, would hate to miss out on little D's party tomorrow. And this dampness is going to be hard on the bones; I'm not as young as I used to be."

D'Artagnan leaned back against the cold wall, closing his eyes. "That makes two of us, old friend."