A longer chapter for you this time as there was no way I could interrupt Athos' story. I wait with bated breath for your opinion; I've made you wait long enough for the explanation!

Thank you to all who read and commented upon the previous chapter. Again, apologies if I have let any errors slip through here.

CHAPTER 66

"It is difficult to know where to start," Athos said.

"The very beginning?" Tréville suggested. "How did your fathers come to know each other?"

"My father and Guillaume L'Hernault were of a similar age and knew each other from childhood. The estates were not adjoining but close enough that they were encouraged in their friendship and met at social events. Then, when Guillaume reached the age of ten, my grandfather agreed to undertake his training. He stayed with the family until eighteen when his father died in a riding accident. As the only son and heir, he went home to manage the estate but was not averse to turning to Grandfather for advice. A few years later, during which time my father became Comte de la Fère, he and Guillaume fell in love with the same woman."

"The age-old story," Tréville acknowledged softly. "I presume it strained their friendship?"

"It destroyed it," Athos admitted. "According to my father, as they grew up, Guillaume was already showing signs of being resentful and it became more obvious once he became Baron. He did not have the social rank, lands and money of my family and it festered in him as they vied for the woman's hand in marriage."

"Let me guess. Your father was the successful one," the Captain stated.

Athos nodded. "Plague had taken the rest of her siblings so Aceline was the only surviving child; her dowry included money, jewellery, tapestries and, with the death of her father, more land and buildings, increasing further the de la Fère wealth. Guillaume complained that he had been cheated out of what should have been his, that she had sent him love tokens and letters and that, in a secret assignation with Aceline, she vowed that she loved him and was desperate to evade the arranged marriage being forced upon her."

"And had she?" Tréville asked, already immersed in the unfolding story. "Vowed that she loved him, I mean? How could she have had this assignation? Surely she had attendants. Had she managed to escape from them? What of the tokens? Did he produce them as evidence?" He saw the expression on Athos' face change to one of surprise at the interruption and flood of questions. "I am sorry. Please, continue."

The corners of Athos' mouth twitched at his Captain's obvious involvement and, somehow, it made the telling of the tale so much easier for him.

"Her two main attendants were both carefully questioned by her father and swore an oath to the effect that they knew where she was at all times so she could not have met with Guillaume. It was something she vehemently denied anyway. As to the letters, he had burned them, saying they would be incriminating for her if found because of her forwardness that she expressed in them, but he described the two love tokens. She had sent them and the letters to my father, but they were never delivered. He had intercepted them somehow. When asked, she was able to repeat, without hesitation, what she had written and there was nothing untoward in the content. What he refused to accept was that her marriage to my father, ostensibly an arranged one, was fortunate to be founded on a genuine love match."

"He was bitter in defeat then," Tréville commented.

"And became more reckless and wild in the process," Athos went on. "Not to be outdone, he rushed into a marriage with a girl of lower standing than him; her family were merchants, albeit successful ones. He demanded a ridiculously large dowry but, eager for the daughter to marry into a title, they agreed. From later servants' gossip, it was not a happy marriage and there was no real evidence of love. He was drinking heavily and abusive to her, but he achieved his objective. He claimed openly that he wanted a son before my father produced one." Athos sighed, "And so Etienne L'Hernault was born."

"Not a particularly warm welcome into the world, then?"

"Definitely not, especially when his mother died in the effort to give him life. Strangely, Guillaume seemed happier by the situation. He no longer had to endure an annoying wife, but he had the benefit of her money and she had, at least, given him a son."

"Shades of England's Henry," Tréville observed.

"But without the pain of mourning her at her passing," Athos added. "It seems he doted on the boy though, in the beginning, but about three months later, it was announced that Aceline was with child and it ignited in Guillaume such a frenzied jealousy, that fears grew for his reason." Athos gazed at the Captain. "No doubt you have realised that Aceline was my mother and I was the child she was carrying?"

Tréville nodded as Athos sighed, his features darkening.

"When I was born, Guillaume went mad. As far as he was concerned, I was the son that should have been his and he must have told himself that so often that he came to believe that he was my real father. Just as he had flaunted the notion that my mother had promised herself to him, so he now declared that they had had an affair and I was the result. He did not care who heard; he just wanted people to believe that I was not the true de la Fère heir. He claimed," and here Athos' voice dropped to little more than a whisper so Tréville was forced to lean forward to listen, "that he had successfully planted his bastard cuckoo in the comte's nest and that my mother was nothing more than a whore."

His eyes tightly shut to the painful part of the story, Athos drew in deep, ragged breaths. Tréville hardly dared breathe himself for the story was not developing as he had anticipated. He made to lay a comforting hand on Athos' arm but when he saw the bowed head and the struggle to regain composure, he desisted.

"My father could not let this rest. It was a matter of honour to defend his wife, child and the family name against such defamation. As the law of the area, my father had different possibilities. He could try to reason with the unreasonable man, demand some sort of redress or, because Henri had not succeeded in banning duelling at that time, make his challenge. He was prepared to attempt all three.

"He visited the L'Hernault estate and, on his arrival, had the first warning that Guillaume had most definitely lost all reason now. His estate was almost ruined, crops had failed, his tenants were frightened and starving, and his manor house had fallen into disrepair, all in less than two years."

"The man was a mess," Tréville affirmed, "and it sounds like it was of his own making."

Athos shrugged, "Perhaps, but I have since learned that there was a history of madness within the family, although it was not apparent in every generation."

"And you believe circumstances brought this insanity to the fore?" Tréville qeried.

This time, there was a nod in response. "I cannot believe anything else. There was no weight to his story, no evidence to his claims, merely wild accusations. My father knew, as soon as he set eyes upon Guillaume at the manor house, that there was no satisfaction in challenging him or defeating a man who had lost his wits. The problem was how to stop his slander. The estate was so run down that he could not afford to pay compensation demanded by any court.

"My father attempted to speak but Guillaume was armed with a sword and attacked him." Athos' eyes met his Captain's at last. "He had no choice and it was soon over. He was forced to defend himself from the madman who had once been his closest friend. My father had acquaintances but, as I grew up, I do not recall there ever being one whom he would term 'friend', close or otherwise."

He gasped as the realisation hit him that he was similar in erecting a defensive wall around himself. That was exactly what the late Comte had done.

"Like father, like son," Tréville said gently, understanding immediately what had initiated such a reaction but there was something else he needed to know. "And this is your father's version of events?"

"Told to me over the years," Athos admitted. "The feud was very one-sided, but my father warned me that he believed Etienne would seek to perpetuate it. We understood from gossip that he was raised by an embittered aunt who uttered poison in his ear. He believed the version told to her by his father. She doted on her brother and saw him as the victim in all this. Perhaps, she was as mad as him, I don't know. Anyway, it appears that Etienne carried on his father's irrational jealousy of me and was incensed that, as his supposed illegitimate half-brother, I should have more than him! It sounds such a preposterous tale now that I have spoken it aloud to someone not of the family."

He saw Tréville raise a questioning eyebrow and it dawned on him what the Captain was implying. His eyes narrowed in sudden anger.

"I have absolutely no reason to doubt my father. He and I may have had our differences in the past, and he would abhor what I have done with my life since his passing, but my father never told a falsehood. I would defend his honour to the last on that matter."

"I am sorry for casting aspersions, but you do see that I had to ask. L'Hernault obviously believes exactly the same of his own father," Tréville explained.

Athos nodded his acceptance of the apology. "Do you accept now that I just want to talk with him? You must see that I have to come to Versailles to put an end to this.."

Tréville hesitated. "On the contrary, from what you have told me, I should refuse your request. If he is like his father, he may well react the same as his father before him did to yours."

Athos dared to give a wry smile. "You said 'should', rather than 'would.'"