"I trust you had little trouble finding your way about, into the queen's private chambers?" Richelieu questioned Milady in the war room.
"Of course." Milady smiled sweetly. "I did have to dispose of a few guards, naturally, but that is where Rochefort's hand comes quite convenient for us."
"Indeed. Now then, you have planted the letters, no?"
"As of this moment, they are secure in the queen's personal vanity."
"Good. Now, it is time for our next move." Richelieu stated.
"Ahh, yes. So we remove one little lost sheep, to keep the musketeers in a scrambled search, and the diamonds come into my hands, without any hitches."
"Provided, of course, that you are able to obtain them."
"All in good time, your eminence." Milady reminded him calmly.
Planchet was absent from the musketeers' apartment for two days. D'Artagnan had employed him on a secret assignment. Athos knew of the young man's plan, and didn't share with Porthos and Aramis what was really going on, until they had more information, he'd insisted.
When Athos fetched Felice from Madame Raebourn's to escort her home safely that night, she seemed withdrawn. They were both quiet during their walk, but Athos was growing concerned. He had not seen D'Artagnan's sister this subdued for some time. But why should she confide in him? He wasn't her father! Not by any means. However, D'Artagnan was absent right now to read her mood.
"You are rather silent for a change." Athos pointed out. Felice sighed.
"I suppose." She replied quietly.
"A trying day baking baguettes and tarts for the city, eh?"
"Mmm." Felice shrugged. Athos observed her tensely hunched shoulders, and the wary look in her eyes. He recognized that look, the very one she'd been wearing when she and D'Artagnan had first come to them.
"What is troubling you, lass?" Athos probed directly. Felice barely met his eyes.
"I don't wish to speak of it, Monsieur Athos." She answered dully.
So formal. Again, Athos pursed his lips. "I had thought we had passed beyond the need for such formalities." He reminded her.
"I am sorry." Felice said.
"You still do not wish to talk about it?"
"Please, no."
"I see." Athos grunted. "Paris is a large, bustling city. Nothing like Gascony, I take it."
"No. It certainly isn't." Felice agreed. "I...I…"
"Yes?" Athos listened closely.
"The truth is that, I had to bring a crime report to Captain de Treville today. As a musketeer, not a citizen." Felice said.
"Oh." Athos replied. "Were you able to do so thoroughly?"
"Yes." Felice nodded wearily.
"Well then, my dear, I commend you on your efficiency, especially as a secret musketeer!" Athos praised her.
"Thanks." Felice hung her head. Athos didn't like that dismal answer. Something was very amiss here.
"Are you that homesick, Felice?" He asked cautiously.
"No. Err...yes. No." Felice shook her head.
"How about I buy you a drink? You look as if you could use one. It certainly helps take the edge off when I am having a less than cordial day."
"You mean...at the tavern?!" Felice sputtered with fright.
"That was the establishment that I had in mind, yes."
"Oh no!" Felice shuddered. "Please, can we not just go home?"
"Of course." Athos nodded, confused. "My apologies, lass. That was imprudent of me."
I am NOT going to a place loaded with such devilry and scandalous fools! Felice thought, nearly running home. If not for that bloody booze, I would not have had to witness that horrible exhibition this afternoon!
D'Artagnan was eagerly waiting for Planchet to return and report to him. He'd informed D'Artagnan this morning that he would come back tonight with news. Felice went straight to her room. As soon as she closed the door, she threw herself on the bed and wept. Athos was right, she was homesick today. This afternoon, how she'd wanted to run back to Gascony to the safety of her parents' home! But, she had a duty now and she must perform it, despite any personal struggles.
"Charles is the one called to be a musketeer, not me!" She cried. "I didn't ask for this!"
Once she'd calmed down, she came down to join Athos and D'Artagnan for supper. "Is Planchet still out?" She asked.
"Yep. But he should be here soon." D'Artagnan answered. "Are you alright?"
"Yes. I'm sorry." Felice sighed. "I'm alright. Now."
"Felice? I heard from Captain de Treville that you stopped a crime today? And he was requested to come validate your standing as a musketeer?" D'Artagnan pressed.
"What's this?" Athos cocked his head.
"I suppose." Felice bit her lip, her hands shaking. "It's just that, there was a woman nearly assaulted in the city. I...tried to stop it."
Both D'Artagnan and Athos were taken aback. "What happened?!" D'Artagnan gasped.
"I was delivering some bread to the generous sisters at the church, for the poor. I was heading back to Madame Raebourn's when I thought I heard someone scream. It was faint, so I kept walking, 'til I realized that I'd definitely heard a woman screaming. I followed her cries, which led to a back alley. There were four men surrounding her. Three of them were drunk!" Felice snarled. "The last one was merely laughing, enjoying his hideous sport. He appeared sober enough, the thug! The poor woman begged for them to stop and struggled. They started tearing her clothes after they pinned her to the ground.
'So, I charged them. I told them to let her go before I sent for the authorities. They laughed at me, even though I held my sword at them. They continued, and...and the sober one, he...he threatened to...to...give me to them next, once...once they were done with her.'" Felice shuddered. "So, I took them on.'"
"Felice! Good l-!" D'Artagnan's jaw dropped. "How are you still in one piece?"
"Did you kill them?" Athos asked.
"Kill them?! Heck no! I wanted to! That would've been too merciful." Felice scowled defiantly. "I did wound them, brought the woman to the nuns at the church, and sent for the police. The police did not believe me. Not at first."
"What?!"
"They said I was making a scene, trying to 'instill the fear of God' in the poor fellows who were just 'relaxing' after a hard day's work. Neither did they believe I was a musketeer, even though I said that Captain de Treville cold vouch for me! But when they saw the poor woman, and the nuns explained her state and her injuries, they finally arrested the hoodlums!"
"That was gallant of you, lass." Athos praised.
"I had to make a report of their crime at the hall of police, then inform Captain de Treville. Thank God he corroborated for me what he could, but...to think that those fools who call themselves officers of the law were willing to overlook this despicable act…" Felice was shaking with rage, and fear.
"That is why the city needs musketeers like us." D'Artagnan assured her. "Are you sure you're alright?"
Felice shivered, trying to hide the sudden tears. "The woman is safe." She gulped. "But, I...I was so afraid! I didn't think I could save her. I was afraid the police would never believe me. I wasn't able to calm down until Captain de Treville arrived and set things straight!"
Athos leaned in. "You were brave, lass. And acted as a true musketeer." Athos smiled.
"I wish both of you had been there instead!" Felice told them. "I am a baker, not a fighter! That is my vocation. You are the heroes this city needs."
"You're still shook up." Athos noted. "Understandable. Have some tea then get some rest, lass."
Felice agreed and was quiet the rest of the time. She'd been spaced out all afternoon since then, replaying the scenario in her head, comparing it to her own in Meung. It both infuriated and terrified her. Women should not be so easily forced into foul actions! And, the police had seemed so readily to believe those scum of men over her, before they'd even taken the decency to hear her out! Why? Because she was a woman? Because she was a child? Or because there was no honor among uniforms? No, that cannot be. Porthos, Athos, Charles, and Aramis were uniforms. And they are truly honorable men! It's because I'm a girl. What a fool I must have looked like to those officers.
Remembering the visual details sent shivers down her spine. But, she wasn't alone. Here, she was safe. Athos, who'd come to rescue them from the Cardinal's men, was here, offering encouragement and praise. And most reassuring of all, her brother was here. I'm safe here, she reminded herself.
D'Artagnan kindly rubbed her shoulder, then paced around the room, impatiently waiting for Planchet to return. Porthos and Aramis arrived passed eight o'clock, Porthos bearing casks of wine and Aramis an armload of theological books. Planchet finally came at half past ten that evening.
"Planchet! You are back!" D'Artagnan sprang to the portly man. "My curiosity has run thin anxiously awaiting your report!"
"Sorry, sir." Planchet apologized. "But it would have appeared suspicious, would it not, had I just waltzed in and then left?"
"Indeed. Well? What can you tell me?" D'Artagnan bounced on his heels, hungry for the information he'd been praying he could nail, in order to help free Constance from her fiance.
"Let me begin, sir, by telling you: your hunch was correct!"