Chapter 4 A Mistake
Jacqueline's eyes fluttered open. She turned to the side, coughing up the water d'Artagnan had just poured into her face. Breathing heavily, she sat up slowly, and the trees spun around her. She put a hand to her head and choked out, "What happened?"
D'Artagnan kneeled on the ground beside her. "You had me disarmed, and then you just fell over," he explained. "You alright?" he stretched out his hands to check her skull for a fracture.
Jacqueline winced as his fingers probed bruises and scrapes. Waving him away, she sat up fully and cradled her head in her hands. She moaned, "Ugh! Again…"
"What again?" d'Artagnan asked as he sat more easily on the ground.
Jacqueline tried to come up with something, but her pounding head only allowed her to tell the truth, "A dream. Well, a nightmare really." She peered though her hands to see d'Artagnan's eyebrow rise in interest.
"And what happened in this dream?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Jacqueline said shortly, shifting her aching head onto one palm as she pulled the loose hair out of her face with the other so she could see him.
"I can't help you if you won't talk to me," he said frankly. "You've been acting odd since that fight in the palace. I think you at least owe me an explanation."
Jacqueline regarded him silently. I owe you so much more than that… She slowly leaned forward to touch her lips to his.
It felt right, like it felt right in her dream. Yet reality caught up with her; she pulled back. "I shouldn't have done that." She wiped her mouth as though she could erase what had just happened.
For once d'Artagnan was speechless. Jacqueline might have enjoyed it more if she had not just embarrassed herself by losing control again. Again? It never actually happened the first time, she chided herself mentally.
The silence was too heavy for her to stand. "Forget it, okay?" Jacqueline glanced away to brush away a tear forming in her eye. Why are you crying, foolish girl? She sniffed and looked back. D'Artagnan's lips caught hers again as she turned, and she could not resist; her strength had already been drained.
Tears slid unchecked down her cheeks. D'Artagnan broke abruptly when he tasted the salt. Jacqueline looked down again and rubbed her eyes with a free hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," he hastened to say, dumfounded to see her spirit so broken. She usually guarded her emotions like she guarded her secret—behind a high, stone wall. He tentatively gripped her shoulder in comfort.
"No. It's my fault. I can't be a musketeer and a woman; I can't handle it all right now." Jacqueline met his eyes forcefully, "And I cannot ask you to guard another secret about me, or us."
"It doesn't have to be like that. You may be Jacques around everyone else, but when you're with me, you are always Jacqueline," he searched her eyes with his own.
The tears had stopped. Jacqueline shook her head slowly but did not openly argue. She would leave that to another day's duel.
D'Artagnan cleared his throat, "What about this dream?" Jacqueline was startled. She had totally forgotten what had started this whole mess.
Uncertainly, she began, "Please, be sure that you want to hear this. It involves some rather… uncomfortable thoughts." She winced.
"I'm sure," d'Artagnan replied, softly but confidently.
Jacqueline took a deep breath. "It started during the fight. When I fell, Ramon rushed in alone to save me. The sword cut across his abdomen before I could get up and run the crazed man through.
"He was injured pretty badly. The King sent his own personal physician to check on him. Siroc was furious when he bled him; Duval had to kick us all out of the room.
"I was praying for Ramon when you found me saying that the King was coming to honor me at the garrison the next day. You called me a hero," Jacqueline smiled an ironic grin.
"Go on," d'Artagnan prompted.
"The next day, Louis presented me with the man's sword. I was raising it up for the crowd to see when an assassin shot an arrow straight for the King. The sword gave me the reflexes to cut the bolt from midair. I took off running and threw the sword right through his leg as he ran.
"I accompanied Duval to the palace later to report directly to the King. Now I can see that I was out of line; I spoke over the Captain and accused the assassin of being a Spanish assassin without much proof.
"I returned to the garrison that night and found Brother Antoine, Siroc, and you tending to Ramon. I rejected him in his moment of suffering," Jacqueline shook her head again, not wanting to go on but not able to stop either.
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I sat polishing the blade lovingly in front of the fireplace. "What's got into you?" d'Artagnan asked angrily, coming up from behind me.
"What are you talking about?" I replied, barely glancing up.
"You're different. The Jacqueline I know would be by Ramon's side giving comfort."
"There's nothing I can do—"
"He saved your life!" he interrupted.
"Well I didn't ask for his help," I shot back, looking at him as defiant as ever. I had had everything under control. "Anyway, that's what soldiers do." I returned to my task.
"Stop polishing that sword and look at me," he said, disgust apparent in his voice.
"No you look at me!" I shouted, facing him down. "There's an insidious element bent on France's destruction. Can't you see it? Are you blind? You must be vigilant, every moment of every day. What is one life compared to that?"
A look of disbelief covered his face. "May I see the sword," he asked quietly.
"Why?" I replied quickly.
"I just want to hold it."
"I don't want you to."
"Why not?"
"Because I said so!"
D'Artagnan was angry, "Let me see it, Jacques." He grabbed for it.
"No," my voice rose again, "Stand back! Never touch this sword again. Never! This is what stands between France and her enemies; do you see that?"
He looked at me the way one might regard a usually friendly dog that had just bitten him. "I'm sorry, d'Artagnan," I looked back at the sword in my lap. "It's just that I would prefer the blade stay in my hands."
He stalked off without another word. My narrowed eyes followed him to the door before returning to my precious blade.
