What Love Is Worth, Ch. 7

It was nearly a four-hour ride to where Christine's estate was. Aramis rode hard, stopping only so his poor horse could rest. When he pulled into the small village she was sweaty, but proud as ever. He patted her as he slowly made his way through the village. Around him, happy villagers greeted him and each other, children pointing in awe at the sight of the armed musketeer and the beautiful horse he rode.

In the distance he could see a short bridge that led over a gently flowing river that emptied into a small lake nestled in front of a grand but not ostentatious manor. He could see farmers working their fields and heard the loud boisterous laughter that echoed from both the mill and the inn.

And then he saw her. She had exited a shop carrying a small basket; a navy cloak was pulled over her shoulders. The wind picked up her hair as she entered the street and she hastily tucked the straying strands behind her ear.

He saw her and his heart leapt, though he couldn't make out her expression. She turned, saw him and froze.

"Dear lord, help me," he prayed as she briskly tried to make her escape towards the bridge. He spurred his horse.

"Christine," he called as he dismounted without stopping, desperately trying to catch her.

She froze just before the bridge as he skidded to a halt behind her. She turned to face him, the wind blowing back her cloak. "Aramis," she said, her voice quavering slightly. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"I…I…I don't know," he stammered.

Her eyes scorched him where he stood and she turned away.

"No, wait!" he called and grabbing her hand, he pulled her towards him and kissed her.

She pushed him away and slapped him. Hard.

"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed, her voice carrying a mix of emotions as she spun away from him again.

"Christine, wait, please. Let me explain!" She continued to march across the bridge.

"Christine," he said as he darted in front of her to block her way. He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his heart. "Christine, you need to listen to me. I'm a monster and a fool. I know I hurt you - that I let fear and doubt take over everything I hold dear, but I'm in love with you Christine. I am. I love you," he blurted out, panting and desperate.

"Please Christine, you need to believe me. I've been a dead man since that night. I could not breathe without you." Her grey eyes held back thunderstorms as they filled with water.

"I have made the biggest mistake I will ever make by hurting you, but you need to believe me when I say I did it because I loved you. I thought that if you didn't love me, you would be free to marry someone who was more worthy of you, someone who could offer you all that you needed. I thought I was saving you from a lifetime of misery. I was wrong, Christine, no man has ever been more wrong. It took losing you, it took not wanting to live any more, for me to fully realize all that I had had," he was rambling now, desperate to get all the words out. He needed her to understand. She had to!

"What I had was you Christine. Your love. With that I was the richest, most fortunate man alive. I had you and your fire and your kiss. Your love made me important. It made me special. It made me…whole. Without you I have been a broken man. My brothers did not know me – I didn't know myself." He struggled to breathe as the words continued to pour forth.

"I've come here…" he began again. "I've come here…to try to earn you back. To prove to you that I love you, to show you how sorry I am, and how I would sacrifice everything just to be able to hold you in my arms once more."

There was silence as she stared at him. She was trembling now. Angrily she brushed a single tear from her eye.

"Please Christine," he said, kneeling before her with tears welling in his own eyes, her hand still pressed to his breast. "Let me prove it to you. Let me stay with you and earn back your love. Please Christine, if you loved me the way that I still love you, it can't have died so quickly. Let me be worthy of your love again."

She stared at him where he knelt, the wind rustling his hair. She looked into the big, pleading dark eyes and at his lower lip that she knew he was fighting to keep still. She wanted to say no. She wanted to cast him away and to continue to fortify the walls she had struggled to build around her heart, but as he knelt, staring up at her like that, she could already feel their foundation shift. She nodded slowly.

His eyes burst into life as his lips parted in an elated grin.

"Get up," she pleaded, aware of the few villagers that had stood back respectfully but still lingered to watch the show. He rose and ran to grab his mare. Together they slowly crossed the bridge.

"We need to set some rules," she said as they walked across the bridge. "Every year my family hosts a ball for the villagers to celebrate the end of the spring planting season. It's in two weeks' time. You are here just in time to help the villagers prepare the fields for this year's harvest. This is the first year since my father has passed that I will be hosting it. I have invited Porthos, Athos and D'Artagnan to attend as my guests. I will make my decision then," she said sternly.

"Agreed," he replied. "In the interim, I will do everything in my power to prove how much I love you, to show you that our love is worth fighting for. If at the end of these two weeks I have not been able to reverse the damage I have wrought, I swear to you, that you will never see me again."

She worried her lip a little, but nodded.

"However," Aramis continued, "In the process of winning your heart, you must allow me five kisses," he said catching her eye and grinning.

"Two," she replied.

"Four," he countered.

"Fine then, but you've already used one."

"Agreed," he said triumphantly. They walked on in silence, as he beamed, and she fought her smile. "You know," he said softly, "I would have been grateful for one," he said as he winked at her, and she rolled her eyes.

She turned her head slightly to keep from laughing. He smiled more broadly, because despite everything, when he had kissed her desperately by the bridge, he was almost certain that, for a moment, she had kissed him back…

oOo

"It's beautiful here," said Aramis looking around as they circled the small lake and climbed the hill that led to the house.

"Thank you," said Christine softly. "It took leaving for all of those years for me to really appreciate that. The land has been in my family's name for centuries. There are 50 families that reside in the village now. They're mostly farmers, though the village is well known for the quality of our woven fabrics," she said.

Aramis drew in a breath as they approached the manor. "This is quite the home," he said. A dense wood sat near the edge of the lake. Aramis could see orchards in the distance, their branches just beginning to be dotted with buds. "How many people do you have as part of your staff?" he asked her.

"About 14 in all if you include the children," she said, "They're really more like family though, as they've been with my family for generations. We're a little bit of a different noble household," she said, as two children ran from the house in their direction. "Our family is thought quite odd in most noble circles. We have always worked the fields and shared in the labour along with our tenants," she said. "I think that's why Athos spent so much time here as a child. My father actually permitted him to DO things. My father always said it's impossible to govern a people when you're not seen to be a part of or invested in their wellbeing."

"Your father sounds like a wise man. I'm sorry that I never got to meet him," he said softly.

"Thank you," she said. "He would have liked you."

The children, who were about six, reached them then, panting and shrieking with laughter.

"Mistress! Christine!" called the young girl bounding forward, hair flying wildly about her shoulders. The boy held back a little shyly upon seeing the soldier. "Who's this?" she demanded, her eyes growing wide as she stopped in front of them. Aramis grinned.

"Claudine, Thomas, this is Aramis. He will be joining us for the harvest – until the Spring Ball," she said rather awkwardly.

"He's very handsome," Claudine responded bluntly at which Christine blushed slightly and rolled her eyes. Aramis laughed and removing his hat, he bowed to the girl.

"A pleasure to meet you," he said, to which she responded with a giggle and a clumsy curtsey. "You as well, Master Thomas," he said.

The boy appraised the marksman, then stepped in front of Christine in a defensive stance. "You're a soldier?" he asked glaring at the man. Christine crouched down beside him and whispered into his ear: "He's a musketeer."

The children's eyes widened as they looked at the man. Aramis winked at them and then caught Christine's eye and beamed. She blushed slightly, and it was just like that first day in Paris. His heart leapt to his throat and he struggled to swallow.

"Thomas," she said, turning the boy to face her and breaking his glare at Aramis – the boy might be a tough nut to crack, Aramis thought – "Can you run back to the house and ask Katherine to prepare my father's room off of the study for our guest? Then you can go to the kitchen to ask Cookie for a treat. Tell her I said it was okay," she said with a grin.

He nodded eagerly and puffed out his chest.

Claudine grabbed his wrist and began dragging him away. "Come on!" she cried and they took off for the house laughing.

Aramis chuckled at the sounds of their laughter. Christine beamed after them, laughing too.

"They remind me of Athos and I as children," she said with a grin. "Athos was older, mind you, but I was just as bossy."

Aramis laughed at her comment. "I can definitely see some similarities. I think Thomas' glare may rival Athos' actually."

They neared the stable laughing, hers sounding like bells to the medic. Marcus and Victor approached from the stable doors.

"I'll show you around the house once you have your horse settled," she said. Aramis smiled at her again and she fought against returning it.

"Hello boys!" said Aramis excitedly recognizing the stable hands. "How've you been?"

Marcus looked at Victor who said nothing, but stared stonily at the musketeer.

"We've been okay. It's nice here. I like it," Marcus said brightly. Victor coldly took the reins from Aramis and left to tend to the animal. Aramis looked after him, confused.

"Don't mind him," Marcus muttered. "He's mad at you because he's in love with the Comtesse," the younger boy grinned. Aramis' eyes softened as he looked after the 13-year-old, understanding.

"I'm glad you're here though," said Marcus smiling. "She's been sad for a while now. She always smiles more when you're around."

oOo

Inside her home, Christine leant against the doorframe for a moment. "Get a hold of yourself," she scolded.

"No, give in!" her heart countered.

Aramis was right; she had a responsibility to her people. She couldn't afford to get lost in her emotions again. The next two weeks would be difficult, but she would let him go at the end, she promised herself.

oOo