What's in a Name?
Chapter 12
D'Artagnan's Great Day
"Jacques are you up," D'Artagnan asked as he rapped on her door. "Jacques?"
There was a small rumble emanated from the other side of the door shortly before he heard the lock turn and the door opened a few inches. Jacqueline's face appeared in it, minus the small amount of facial hair one usually saw on her chin. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"Did I wake you," he asked with the innocence of a child.
"I had patrol last night D'Artagnan," she said with a small yawn. "What time is it?"
"About 5:30."
Jacqueline let out a small groan. "Why are you up so early?"
"I couldn't sleep. I thought I'd treat you to….never mind. Go back to sleep. I shouldn't have woken you."
"D'Artagnan," she said as she saw him turn and leave her view like a defeated puppy. She softly groaned again as she shut her door, locked it, and flopped back down on her bed. Why would he wake her so early in the morning after a night on patrol, she wondered. And why is it that she can't get back to sleep now?
"Ahh, Happy Birthday mi amigo," D'Artagnan heard as he entered the dining area of the garrison. Ramon was just finishing his breakfast of sausages and eggs as his friend walked in. "Another year older and so many women yet to be conquered. I have heard that several of the eligible young Paris maidens will be at this party of yours today. Para estar en sus zapatos To be in your shoes!"
"It does sound like it's going to be quite a party," Siroc added, taking a break from his food. "The Captain cancelled patrols today so everyone could make it."
"Wonderful," D'Artagnan answered sarcastically as he sat down at the table, causing both of his companions to look at him curiously.
"I remember this day last year," Ramon began again, "It was quite a day of celebration."
"Yeah," interrupted Siroc with a smile, "You didn't return for two days."
"Si," exclaimed Ramon with a laugh, "and you were not worthy of duty for another two days after that."
Both Siroc and Ramon laughed at the memory while D'Artagnan remained unmoved, only planting a half-smile on his face, wishing more than ever that he could find a way out of it. He could not afford a replay of that day, not with Jacqueline in his life.
"Listen, why don't the two of you take my place today? You are welcome to all the young women you want, with my blessing."
His companions stopped laughing and stared long and hard at him. Suddenly Ramon said, "You know, you have changed mi amigo."
"Changed," D'Artagnan repeated, wondering if he'd said too much, "I haven't changed."
"Si, you have. You got some girl I do not know about?"
D'Artagnan broke into a nervous smile.
"D'Artagnan have a girl and not tell us," Siroc asked, watching him.
"Si, he might keep something like this from us; though I'd be offended."
"Yes. And surprised."
Ramon looked at D'Artagnan, "So, what is it, a girl or just some strange D'Artagnan thing?"
"Come on Ramon, Siroc. If I had someone, you know I'd…"
"Ah, perhaps he is smitten with someone that does not share his feelings," Ramon replied to Siroc, ignoring D'Artagnan's remark.
"Hmm," answered Siroc, raising his brows in thought. "Could there actually be a woman in Paris that doesn't fall for the D'Artagnan charms?"
"Si, I bet that is it. D'Artagnan has lost his heart to a woman that does not share hers with him."
D'Artagnan listened in shock.
"That does make sense," Siroc continued, "He never goes out anymore; never talks to the ladies like he used to."
"You know, I am sitting right here."
Ramon looked at him, then back to Siroc, gesturing, "And he never joins in on our conversations about the ladies like he used to. And he is always too willing to give up the affections of a lady to his comrades."
"Would you rather I didn't?"
"Not at all like the D'Artagnan we know," Siroc said, staring at his friend as if studying him.
"I am not…"
"But who could this young lady be," asked Ramon, trying to think of any new faces he'd seen in town lately.
Siroc continued to study D'Artagnan, "Yes. Who could it be? You know Ramon, if we could find her, perhaps we could find out her secret."
"Si, and then we could spread that around so the rest of us would have a chance en el amor. You know Siroc, maybe we should ask Jacques."
"That's an idea. They do seem inseparable."
"You can't…ask Jacques. He's still sleeping," D'Artagnan nervously stated, not knowing what else to say to that.
"Then we'll ask him when he gets up," replied Siroc calmly, going back to his eating.
"Come on! You two know me. I wouldn't keep something like this from you," D'Artagnan said, trying to sound calm and ease their minds.
"Then we will see at the party," stated Ramon. "If what you say is true, we will see."
D'Artagnan groaned to himself. He was stuck. If he plays up to the women at the party, then Jacqueline would never believe his feelings for her; and if he acted uninterested in them, then his friends would know he was hiding feelings for someone. Why did things have to be so complicated, he wondered. And why did his father have to pick this year to become—fatherly?
"Well," stated D'Artagnan as he stood up, "while you two ponder my love life, I think I'll go see if Aramis is up."
After D'Artagnan took his leave, Ramon looked to Siroc and said, "He's got someone."
"Yep," replied Siroc. "He certainly does."
"D, what brings you here this early," Aramis asked as he answered the door of his hotel room, already knowing what the reason may be.
"Did I wake you?"
"No, no. Your father and I were just discussing some matters. Come in."
"I hate to interrupt," he replied, stepping in, not really wanting to discuss what was on his mind in front of his father.
"Ahh son, Happy Birthday to you," exclaimed the elder D'Artagnan.
"Hello Father," replied the son, returning the hug offered. "You're sure I'm not interrupting something?"
"No, not at all. Are you ready for the festivities later?"
"Actually….I would like you to cancel the party."
"What? Cancel the party," exclaimed his father. "We can't cancel the party. Everything's all set already. The word is out; it's too late to cancel it." The senior D'Artagnan looked hard at his son, "Why would you want it cancelled? Since when have you not enjoyed a good celebration?"
"I've kind of outgrown the big party thing."
"Nonsense! A D'Artagnan never outgrows the fun of an entertaining gala."
"Well this D'Artagnan has!" The younger D'Artagnan looked pointedly at his father, the full determination set in his eyes. He was trying hard not to get into an argument.
His father returned the gaze. It had been hard for him to realize that his only son was a grown man, but at this moment it was very apparent that not only had his son grown up, but that he had become his own man, apart from his father's ambitions in life. That began to be clear when the elder D'Artagnan had last come to town and was facing his son with a sword in his hand. Never again would the son be the little boy that the father could dote on and aspire to be a replica of him. The now grown man had started his own course toward the future, just as his late wife had predicted.
The senior D'Artagnan turned his gaze to Aramis, at a loss for words, giving Aramis the cue to take over the conversation.
"He's right D. The party can't be cancelled this late. There were some gifts dropped off at the Café last night, and the food and preparations have probably begun already this morning," Aramis told him.
D'Artagnan turned his gaze to Aramis. Wonderful, he thought, my greatest dream is going to be ruined at this party and you're telling me there's no way out of it.
Aramis, as though reading his thoughts, motioned toward the next room. "I think we need a little talk," he said.
Finally, thought D'Artagnan as he followed him into the room.
After Aramis closed the door, he turned to D'Artagnan, "You look like someone about to face the guillotine." He smiled at D'Artagnan's reaction, "Will you relax?"
"You don't understand."
"I think I understand more than you know," Aramis replied, walking across the small room to a table. "I can't solve your problem for you; sometimes you have to trust fate. If things are meant to be, they will be."
D'Artagnan looked at him, "This is all the advice you can give me? I really thought you of all people could help me with this."
"Love has a mind of its own. You can't force it anymore than you can just throw it away once it has its hold on you. I've met this girl of yours; I think she trusts you more than she trusts anyone else."
"That's because I've guarded her secret."
"No, it's more than that. It's a deep respect one holds for very few people in their lives; ones they love, be it a father, a brother, a lover. Love doesn't come easily."
"You can say that again," D'Artagnan sighed.
Again Aramis smiled at his reaction. "Would you want her to be easy to win over?"
"No."
"Well then."
"I just…"
"You just what?"
"I just wish she would give me some sign."
"Perhaps she already has, in small ways. Do you remember what I said in that letter I sent you?"
D'Artagnan looked at him.
"A woman doesn't give her love easily, not true love. She's not going to say anything that could make her vulnerable if that love isn't returned, no matter how much she wants it. You told me that this girl has been through a lot in her life. Be her friend, her confidant. The rest will follow; don't try to force it. Things will work out, in their time."
"But I've already tried to let her know how I feel."
"Have you? And what was her reaction?"
"She doesn't believe me. She thinks I'm flippant."
Aramis laughed. "You are a D'Artagnan, my boy, with a reputation to rival your father's. I may not live in Paris, but that doesn't mean I don't hear things."
"Great."
"Then prove her wrong."
"Just like that?"
Aramis put his arm across D'Artagnan's shoulders as they walked back to the door. "Just like that."
Ramon looked at Siroc and they both smiled. The party was going wonderfully; more food had been prepared than could ever be eaten, the Café was crowded with Musketeers and townsmen, and there seemed to be enough young maidens to keep everyone happy. Even the guest of honor had finally relaxed and was enjoying himself, although he was never without his comrades long enough for them to tell if he seemed attracted to any one girl in particular. But it was still early.
The crowd had been overwhelmed by the festivities, enough to rival a ball at the palace but much more fun. Ramon had rhapsodized, there were exhibitions of juggling and exotic dancers, and the senior D'Artagnan was in form relating a few of his stories which even his son didn't mind hearing once again.
On the counter of the Café stood a large cake beautifully decorated with the image of a rapier across the top of it, although to see it at this point it was hard to tell what it was. There couldn't have been anyone in the establishment that hadn't tasted it yet. It had been brilliantly lit by a horde of candles, marking each year of the young man's life, which made for many jokes from his fellow Musketeers about how old he had just turned. His only wish upon blowing them all out, wished under his breath, was to be allowed time alone on this day with a specific young maiden, with her dark hair falling down on her shoulders and wearing a dress instead of pants. But he was satisfied at this point with her by his side at the party, even though she looked like his comrade instead of his girl.
The gifts for the youngest of the D'Artagnan clan had all been laid out on a table; most of them being from his fellow Musketeers as well as from the young maidens wishing to win the favor of the dashing birthday boy. Ramon took hold of one of his arms while Siroc maneuvered to his other side to drag the young man to the table; everyone was getting excited to see what spoils he had gotten on his day. Laughing along with his friends, he started opening them, one by one, while everyone in the establishment watched.
Partway through the gifts, hearing the giggles of the women and hearty laughs of his comrades as each package was opened, D'Artagnan noticed the absence of a particular voice. Looking around the Café, he asked, "Where'd Jacques go?"
"Um," Ramon started, looking around as well, "he was here a minute ago. He would not have gone too far, unless," he glanced at D'Artagnan with a smile, "he decided to do a little private celebrating of his own with one of the ladies."
"He did seem to have the attention of a particular Mademoiselle Turvois," Siroc added with a grin.
"Si, he did; and her attentions can be quite—overwhelming," Ramon laughed. "I am sure he will be back—about nightfall."
Ramon and Siroc laughed at that vision while D'Artagnan tried to act amused and unconcerned, all the while nervously wondering why Jacqueline had left his party; had left him. Feigning the need for a drink, he walked over to the bar to order another coffee and stood next to Aramis, who had been enjoying the festivities along with everyone else.
"She left," he said quietly to Aramis. "Now what?"
"Relax."
"Maybe I said something or did something she didn't like."
Aramis laughed. "Will you relax? You're worse than your father was when he was courting your mother. I'm sure she'll be back. She may have forgotten her gift or something and had to run back for it."
"Hey D'Artagnan," Ramon yelled over the chatter of everyone, "There are more presents to open and much more celebrating to be had, mi amigo!"
"I hope you're right, Aramis," D'Artagnan said as he headed back to the others.
"Here," Ramon said, handing D'Artagnan a small package. "This is from Siroc."
D'Artagnan unwrapped it and stood staring at a pair of odd-looking eyeglasses. "I hate to tell you this Siroc, but I don't wear spectacles."
"These are not for correcting vision. See? I have tinted the glass. They are for use out-of-doors in bright sunlight."
D'Artagnan put the spectacles on and looked around. Hearing the laughter of his friends but hardly being able to see them, he replied, "They're a bit dark."
"Well, they are for outdoors. And I haven't quite got the tinting down right. If I tint them lighter, the coating tends to wash off."
"Ah," D'Artagnan said, taking them off and laying them on the table. "Let me know when you've gotten it perfected."
"Of course," Siroc answered, a little embarrassed by the laughter aimed at his latest invention. Turning his attention back to the unopened gifts on the table, Siroc slid the next one over in front of D'Artagnan. "There's no name on this one."
D'Artagnan took it and looked it over. The long gift was wrapped plainly in a grayish cloth and tied closed with a thin leather strap; and true to what Siroc had said, it carried no tag with a name. "Well, someone wishes not to be recognized," he said, looking around.
Slowly he unrolled it. There was a thumping sound as the metal hit the wooden table and a quiet ensued throughout everyone watching. D'Artagnan looked at it in amazement, and then to his father who looked back at him as if to say 'it wasn't me'. There on the table in front of him lay a rapier in a well-worn leather sheath. What caught his eye was the hilt of the sword, unlike any he had seen before. It was plain to see that this sword had been well taken care of, as the metal of the hilt glistened of silver and gold.
D'Artagnan picked it up and looked at it in awe. The silver colored handle in his hand was intricately laid out with four bands of gold along it. As he unsheathed it, the blade caught the light and reflected it brilliantly even though it showed small nicks along the edge from past usage. Staring at it, he couldn't believe this gift; this must have cost someone quite a sum and yet it had been just given to him. But from whom, and why would they wish to remain unacknowledged?
His companions were looking at it with astonishment plain on their faces. They too were wondering who would give such a magnificent gift to their friend. Perhaps it was from Aramis or the Captain or some relative of D'Artagnan's that they had never met.
As the young D'Artagnan continued to admire the sword, he heard a soft voice in his ear, "I know it's not much. It was my father's. I hope it's acceptable." At hearing this, he turned around to see Jacqueline standing there; her hair not falling to her shoulders but caught back in a snood and wearing a pale blue peasant dress, understated by the fashion worn by the other women in the Café, but to D'Artagnan, it was as fine as any made of silk.
"It's beautiful, as are you," he told her, unable to take his eyes off her and fighting the urge to take her in his arms. Once again he was astonished to see her there as he had dreamed her to be and that she would take a chance like this when the Café was full of Musketeers. He handed the rapier to Ramon as he took her arm and led her to a corner to talk as the chatter began again from the other guests.
"I wondered where you went. I was afraid you weren't coming back."
"And miss out on all the fun? Did I miss anything?"
"Not really, just opening gifts." He looked into her shining eyes, the words of Aramis ringing in his ears, 'Be her friend, her confidant, the rest will come'. "Thank you for the rapier, Jacqueline. It's beautiful. But if was your father's, you should keep it. It should be kept in your family."
"I wanted you to have it. For all you've done for me. I wouldn't be here now if you hadn't helped me and kept my secret. It should be owned by someone that deserves it."
D'Artagnan smiled at her, not the smile of her hero but the smile of someone in love. "I can't believe you'd take the chance being here as yourself just for my birthday."
"Well, that and because I got tired of that Turvois girl hanging on me. It's nauseating."
D'Artagnan laughed and felt all the tension and aggravation of the entire day slipping away from him. He felt content just having her here as herself, even though he knew it would be only for a short time.
Having observed the two going to the corner to talk, Siroc looked at Ramon, who was grinning broadly.
"You know what this means," Siroc asked Ramon.
"I think we should put it to the test," Ramon replied.
Looking curiously at his friend, Siroc asked, "What do you have in mind?"
With that Ramon started toward the couple, with Siroc on his heels.
Ramon took D'Artagnan's arm. "D'Artagnan, mi buen amigo, where have you been hiding this lovely lady? Hola, I am Ramon Montalvo Francisco de la Cruz," he said with a bow. "And this is my compadre Siroc."
"How do you do," Jacqueline replied to both with a smile.
Ramon continued quickly, "You do not mind if I borrow the birthday boy. There are many yet wishing to speak with him." With that, Ramon pulled D'Artagnan away from the corner and to a group of Musketeers and women talking.
Siroc looked at Jacqueline. "Well, seeing as how your friend has been whisked away, would you care to join me for some coffee over there?"
"Well, I really…" Jacqueline started as Siroc drug her to the other side of the room.
Time seemed to fly for the party-goers as Ramon and Siroc did their duty to keep D'Artagnan and Jacqueline apart. The two were having fun noting how many times they witnessed the other two sneaking glances off to each other.
After about ten minutes of watching it all, Aramis found his way over to Siroc and Jacqueline. "Enjoying yourself," he asked her.
"Very much so."
Aramis looked over at D'Artagnan. "It appears he's getting everything he wished for."
"And then some," Jacqueline replied, looking at all the young women standing around D'Artagnan as he finished opening gifts.
"Well, I know he would much rather be sitting here talking to you."
Jacqueline glanced back at D'Artagnan, then at Aramis. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"What's D'Artagnan's name?"
"Young D?"
"Yes."
"Why don't you ask him?"
"I have, more than once. But he won't tell me what it is. I'm wondering if it's something really odd."
Aramis laughed. "Well, you know how it is with traditional names and the younger generation. They just hate their names." Aramis looked over toward bar. "Just do like my late wife used to do."
"And what was that?"
Aramis looked at her and grinned. "Keep asking until he gets tired of hearing it and tells you. Now if you will excuse me, it looks like I'm being summoned." And he took his leave.
Jacqueline sighed. Why won't anyone just tell her? What was the big secret about it? Hmm, keep asking him; but why? It's like beating a dead horse, she thought. Perhaps once more, if I can drag him away from his little circle of admirers. She got up and walked toward the group D'Artagnan was intermingled in, forgetting all about Siroc sitting there.
Seeing her leaving the table, D'Artagnan wound his way out of the group standing around him. When he reached her, he said, "Thank goodness. I was beginning to think I'd never get away from them."
"I bet," Jacqueline replied, looking at the young ladies that looked sad to see him leave them.
"Jacqueline," he started as he pulled her back into their little corner, the only place they could find any privacy. "Every time I tried to leave Ramon would…."
"D'Artagnan," Jacqueline started.
"I'm not interested in any of those young women, if that's what you're thinking."
Jacqueline shook her head, "No. I want to…will you please just tell me…"
The next thing Jacqueline knew he had her by her arms and his lips were on hers. The bad thing about it, she thought, was that she found herself kissing him back. Suddenly she felt her senses coming back to her. "D'Artagnan," she exclaimed as quietly as she could, struggling against his hold. "Will you let go of me?"
"Will you hold still?"
"Let go of me. If you want to kiss someone, there are plenty of women over there that would…"
"Jacqueline, there's a guard at the door," he started, still holding on to her so her back remained to the door. "I don't want him to see you."
"Right. Just because it's your birthday, you think you can just…"
"Alright," D'Artagnan said, as he let go and held his hands up. "You're free."
"Thank you D'Artagnan," she replied and turned to walk away from her feelings as much as from him. As soon as she was facing the opposite direction her eyes immediately went to the door to prove him wrong. Instantly she turned back to him, "There's a guard at the door!"
"I tried to tell you."
"I know! But what do I do now," she asked, panic in her voice.
"We could try the kissing thing again."
"Be serious D'Artagnan. What if he comes in here?"
"Calm down. The Café is full of Musketeers; he's not going to come in."
"But what if he does?"
"Then we'll find a way to get you back to the garrison. In the meantime, try to calm down. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
She felt the warmth of his hand on her arm again, only this time it wasn't holding her but comforting her and she felt as though it were giving her strength. She was still afraid, more afraid than she'd been in a long time, but it helped her calm down being reassured that he was there to help her if she needed him.
"Thank you D'Artagnan."
When she looked at him and found him gazing back at her, she felt as though something inside her was starting to melt away. The memory of his kiss flitted quickly across her mind, but it left a lasting feeling inside her that she didn't feel when it happened, and wasn't quite sure what to think of it.
"The guard's gone now," D'Artagnan softly told her, not taking his eyes off her. "Should we rejoin the party? It looks like Ramon is getting ready to rhapsodize again."
"I really should go back to the garrison and change."
"Just wait long enough to hear him, he is our friend. Then I'll take you back."
Jacqueline followed him back to rest, staying near the bar where the senior D'Artagnan and Aramis were standing talking.
Ramon was standing on the table, gaining the attention of the crowd to begin his tribute to his friend.
"Today we honor one born long ago
A son, the only one, to one of France's heroes
He grew up strong, fast and bold
The steel of sword not to grow cold
A rapier in one hand, a woman at the other
A name for himself, her virtues to honor
A Musketeer his only dream
His duty is sworn to both King and Queen
He fights against evil with friends by his side
The order of the Captain he must abide
When duty is over and fun will begin
A coffee to drink, a kiss he will win
And when all is said and done and my rhapsody ends
His heart will be won, a new day begins.
To you, my friend, a wish I will say
For fortune, happiness, love, on this your great day."
The rhapsody ended to a round of applause and cheers going up to D'Artagnan, who was enjoying it and laughing along with everyone else. He had listened to the words and was surprised to realize at the end of the ode how much his two comrades actually knew him. With this and the conversation he'd had with them at breakfast, D'Artagnan decided that he must not have been as careful with his actions as he had thought. But that was alright, he decided. After all, they were his closest friends, as was Jacqueline.
D'Artagnan turned to the bar, looking for her but again, she had disappeared. Walking over to the counter, he stood beside his mentor.
"Your father walked her back," Aramis told him.
"It was nice having her here, even though she shouldn't have taken the chance."
"I want to give you this," Aramis said as he handed the young D'Artagnan a note sealed with the royal seal. "It's from your father and me as an addition to the other gifts, but I think you'll like it much better."
D'Artagnan stared at the letter in his hand as he listened to Aramis relate the contents of it. After he'd finished, Aramis gave his greatest advice to the man that he had looked to as a son, "Go talk to her."
"Jacques are you there," he asked as he softly rapped on her door. The door opened and once again he was facing his comrade. "May I come in?"
"Of course," she replied, allowing him to enter and closing the door after him.
"I wanted to make sure that you're alright and to give you this," he told her as he handed her the letter.
Taking the letter, she looked it over, a look of almost shock in her eyes as she noticed the seal. "What is it?"
"It's a gift from my father and Aramis," he replied. "They definitely have their faults, but I have to admit that they are two of the best men I've ever known. Open it."
Nervously she broke the seal and opened the parchment. As she read it through, disbelief overcoming the shock, D'Artagnan explained the contents as Aramis had reported them to him.
"This is not a pardon from the King, although they did try for that, but it is an invitation signed by Louis himself in the presence of the Queen allowing you free passage into and out of the palace to state your case to them, as yourself. As long as you hold this order, the guards can't do anything. And I promise I'll go with you, as well as my father and Aramis."
"But, how did they--how did they know?"
D'Artagnan looked guiltily at her. "Would you believe a little bird told them?"
Jacqueline laughed. "Hardly."
Once again D'Artagnan heard the words of his mentor, 'Be her friend, her confidant, the rest will come'. This thought kept him from taking her into his arms, which he knew she wasn't ready for. But he could wait; this was enough for now.
"I'll have to be sure and thank them when I see them again." Jacqueline looked at the man who was melting away her defenses. "And thank you D'Artagnan."
Their eyes met and held. Then D'Artagnan, afraid of not being able to control all that he was feeling, put a hand on her shoulder and leaned his face next to hers. Softly he spoke into her ear, "I was named after the four of them: Athos, my father, Porthos and Aramis. Armand Charles Isaac Henri D'Artagnan." He then pulled back and looked at her again. With that, he turned and walked back out the door, closing it softly behind him.
Jacqueline watched the door close and stared at it for what seemed an eternity; she could hardly believe all that had just happened. Everything inside her seemed to be suddenly racing; the feelings she had kept closed up deep down inside her were breaking free, filling her as she stood there. She knew from that moment that she would never be alone again; her life would always be shared with the man that had kept her secret safe and now had shared his with her.