CHAPTER FOURTEEN
d'Artagnan watched Milady impassively.
At least she had the decency to hold a fan to her face.
Normally, she would not be in such a setting, especially when both the King and Queen were together. She could only be here for one reason. Sure enough, he could see how she looked surreptiously around the room, without turning her head. He was aware of an uneasy feeling in his stomach. No doubt, Porthos and Aramis felt the same, as he was aware that all eyes were on her. To say Milady was manipulative was to under estimate her.
d'Artagnan had slept with Milady de Winter three times. He alone knew the initial attraction that Athos must have felt for the younger Ann. Now, she was obviously harder than the girl his dearest friend had fallen in love with. Certainly angrier, wearing her choker as a talisman. He had promised to kill the man who had marked her thus, but that was before he knew who that man was. He had since told her the memory of their nights together disgusted him, though, for some reason, she had still helped him and the King escape from the slavers in the forest.
Watching as she had swept into the room, he knew she only served herself and she had helped them in the forest for the bounty it could give her. Now she had that bounty. They were helpless against her. Once again, she had the upper hand.
Seeing d'Artgagnan watching her, she cast him a look that he found difficult to turn away from. He consoled himself with the fact that, according to Aramis, the Comte had told him he had only seen Ann twice in Pinon, from afar. True, she had made an impression, but if fate was on their side today, Athos would not recognise the woman that the girl had become, or connect her with this opulent setting.
"She should leave," Aramis was saying, tersely, pulling d'Artagan's thoughts back to the present.
"And soon," Porthos growled, his eyes on the Comte.
Contrary to their desires, they saw the woman in question slowly approaching them, a wicked look in her eye.
Ann walked slowly over to d'Artagnan, her hips swaying, flicking out her fan and partially obscuring her face, her back to the room.
"What do you all imagine will happen if he sees me?" she said as she drew parallel. She looked them up and down.
"Nothing good," d'Artagnan replied, tersely, his eyes now on the room.
"I'm inclined to find out," she replied, a determined smile spreading across her face.
They each tensed as one.
Suddenly, her wrist was gripped.
It was Treville.
"As you were," he said to his men, who visibly relaxed.
Athos was in conversation with a nobleman and his wife at the far side of the large room and was unaware of the small drama being played out.
"A word with you, Madam," Treville hissed.
"Leave him alone," he said, when he had spun her away.
"He is more mine than yours," she hissed back. "In his current state," she sneered, shaking her hand free and lowering her fan in defiance. He deftly turned her toward the window.
"I brought him here to stir his memory. His current memory. If he sees you, it could do untold damage. As far as he is concerned, his house in Pinon still stands and the tenants farm the land, they do not own it."
She had looked shocked at Treville's revelation, though she recovered quickly, determined to make the most of the situation, no doubt.
"That was a rather foolish decision on his part," she sneered, raising her fan once more.
Treville sighed. She needed to be told the extent of it, still only known to a few of them.
"He does not know you!" he said, harshly, though keeping his voice down as he moved her to the very corner of the room, where the heavy curtains partially obscured them.
She stumbled as he maneouvered her.
"What do you mean? I am his wife, the Comtesse de la Fere!" she said, raising her head defiantly.
"He is now in a place before that," Treville replied, firmly, not wishing to go into further details.
She looked momentarily confused.
"Before?" she said.
For some reason he could not explain, Treville felt something akin to regret on her behalf. She was an ambitious woman. Whatever plan she was hatching was waivering before his eyes.
"He believes his brother alone awaits his return in Pinon. He has only seen you from a distance, according to Aramis. Briefly," he growled, to drive the point home.
Her face changed then, and, to his surpirse, a sly smile crept across it.
"If he said that," she replied, her demeanour now more confident, "Then he has noticed me. He will know me still."
"Not as you wish him to, Madam," Treville ground out.
"Perhaps not, but there is time," she smiled, smugly.
"Do you not have enough!" Treville hissed, barely hanging on to his temper.
"I find having more than one iron in the fire is best," she replied, looking at him over the rim of her fan. "So to speak."
She was, he thought, the only person who wanted Athos to remain trapped in his past.
"Stay away from him," he warned.
"Or what?" she challenged.
It was not the reaction he wanted from her, but he silently berated himself that he would believe she would fall in with their plans.
And so he played his card.
"Do you want the King to know your business? Do you think he would find a common thief and assassin sparkling company, fit for such company as this, a treasure on his arm?"
"Do you think the King would want a Musketeer who hanged his wife, gave up his lands and deprived the King of his taxes?" she countered. "Isn't that treason, Treville? Knowingly doing that?"
Treville looked as if he wanted to strangle her at the very least.
"He loves me," she hissed. "And he always will."
The woman was a nightmare.
"Don't test me on this," Treville countered. "Do not test any of us. Remember my words. The King will hear about you."
She was their greatest challenge.
He knew she had much to lose if she played against them. But, could she help herself?
He walked quickly away, a dull headache beginning in his temples.
oOo
The morning passed slowly. Aramis had managed to catch a word with the Comte, who seemed, he told them, quite relaxed. He was now more aware than ever of the gaps in his memory, though, as he had remembered the faces of two of the nobles.
"It may just be a family likeness," he had mused to Porthos when their friend had moved away. "He did not seem disturbed in any way."
"We might get away with this," Porthos replied. They were all so invested in this day stirring memories, that the King's next words brought their hopes crashing down.
"Where is Milady de Winter?" the King suddenly cried a few moments after the Queen had retired.
Aramis turned to look at Athos, but he was unaffected by the name.
"He doesn't know 'er," Porthos whispered.
"He doesn't know the name," d'Artagnan said, "But, if he sees her … we have to get him out of here."
"Wait," Aramis, hissed. "Where is she?"
They all looked around the room.
Milady de Winter had gone.
oOo
A little earlier, in the shadows within the Palace stables, two men had spoken quietly.
They were dressed in the pale livery of the palace guard, though their uniforms did not fit them as well as the original owners, now dead at their hands.
"The others?" Michel Dubois said quietly as they retrieved their weapons from behind the sacks of feed under the low eaves of one of the stable storeroom.
"In position," his companion said, as he strapped on a sword.
"Good," Dubois growled as he looked toward the stable doors as the palace was coming alive. Weeks of planning were about to come to fruition.
"People have started to arrive. Soon the King's apartments will be empty. We wait until the King and Queen have made their entrance and then we move as planned."
"And Milady?"
"She is the King's mistress. She knows the way to the King's apartments and has ready access to them. There will be jewellery and "trickets" in there, the like we have never seen. Our brothers died and she knelt at the feet of a Musketeer!She owes us and she knows it. Today, because of her, we will be rich!"
To be continued ...