Thank you so much to Whatfunny and Felicity531 for the reviews. Rest assured Porthos will play a part in this story but as for him being the love interest, you'll have to wait and see! It's still anyone's game yet!
Chapter Two 8th June 1632
"I'm going home Eric."
He turned to her with a confused expression. "Elizabeth you can't just walk out of a party at the Louvre Palace alone. I thought we'd agreed we were going to drum up some connections tonight anyway? You need them just as much as I do!"
Elizabeth didn't have the effort within her to roll her eyes, so instead she just scowled. "Eric I'm not feeling well at all. I'm going home. Stay and make your own connections."
She turned away from her husband but Eric caught her forearm in his grip. "You can't go alone. I'll take you. Let my fetch my cloak. There will be other parties, and your father isn't even here to introduce us to his own connections. We can make other arrangements."
"Hurry up then," Elizabeth complied. "I need to get some air before I loose my senses. This hall is stiffing."
"I didn't realise who her husband was," Porthos supplied. "She seemed quite nice the other day. Audacious she was. You wouldn't think a woman like that would put up with a husband like him."
"People are full of surprises." Porthos turned to glance over his shoulder at Athos's monotonous tone. His captain ignored the looks his friend gave him and instead watched the couple fetch their cloaks and hats.
"If we cut of of the hall and cross the gallery," D'artagnan mumbled, "We may just beat them to the courtyard."
Elizabeth felt the beginnings of light headedness as they left the hall behind and skirted around hallways in the candlelight. She only made good speed on the staircase because Eric held her arm. At the bottom though as Eric paused to button his doublet, she glimpsed the shadows beyond the doorway. Men were waiting for them, as they had been so many times before.
"Monsieur Porthos," she greeted the pirate-like musketeer as he came into view in the late evening sunlight.
"Madame," he inclined his head to her, but she noticed that he did not remove his hat.
"Mon Seigneur de Vere," another of the four men said as he stepped forward. "We have some questions we wish to put to you. Perhaps we might find a quiet room where you and your wife might speak with us?"
"Do I have a choice?" Eric asked blandly.
"Well chances are you'd sooner make a run for it," Porthos added. "This way, we can at least extract from you the money and information you've already gathered in the few days you've been in Paris."
Elizabeth saw Eric try for a polite smile. "That's all very well gentlemen, but my wife is ill. I was taking her home. Perhaps you might allow me to do so, and you could meet me at our lodgings in say; an hour?"
Elizabeth felt four sets of eyes fix upon her then, and it was testament to how tired and withdrawn she looked lately that it appeared Eric's words had been believed.
"Very well," said another of the men. Elizabeth could not see his face, for he stood in the shadow of the awning and the brim of his hat was pulled low. "You have one hour Mon Seigneur and Madame."
"Come Elizabeth..." Eric whisked her away without so much as a backwards glance.
"An hour is a long time Athos," D'artagnan argued. "They could be outside the city gates in an hour!"
"Nah," exclaimed Porthos. "There's red guards on every street corner wanting to search their carriage. They wouldn't get much further than Les Halles in an hour."
"I said they had an hour." Athos approached from his spot against the wall. "I did not agree not to follow them directly too their lodgings within that hour."
"Perhaps the wife really is ill," Porthos suggested as the four of them crowded the corner of the Rue Sainte-Anastase. They looked on as Elizabeth stumbled as she exited the carriage. Only Eric's firm grip of her arms stopped her from tumbling to the floor. He held her upright as they slowly ascended the steps and entered their lodgings. The musketeers watched as a few seconds later a manservant left the same entrance, scuttling off in a hurry.
"Where do you suppose he's off too?" Aramis queried blandly.
"There's one way to find out," announced D'artagnan. "Let's just ask them."
The rooms were still cold when they were let in by the maid. A fire had been lit in the lounge and Elizabeth was perched on the couch nearest it, seeming for all the world as if she wanted to crawl into it. Eric was stood by the fireplace, one arm leaning against the mantle, the other nursing a glass of brandy.
"What the devil...I said an hour!" Eric roared as he caught sight of the musketeers entering the room."
"We must have misjudged our timings a little," mused Porthos. "Looks like your manservant did too Mon Seigneur, judging by the speed of him as he left a few moments ago."
"He's gone to fetch a doctor for my wife for heaven's sake! He will return promptly. Where on earth would you think he'd be going at this hour? Off to secure us a getaway? I'll have you know that I've no reason whatsoever to run from Paris! I even agreed to sit down and speak with you once I'd put my wife to bed!"
"That might have to wait." Athos removed his hat and stepped into the room. "We have been ordered to search these rooms Mon Seigneur and Madame. It would be better if you both remained here whilst it is carried out."
"Like hell I will!" Eric roared.
"Oh Eric just let them search," Elizabeth sighed. "The sooner they are done the sooner we can go to bed. We have nothing to hide. Refusing only makes us look guilty." Her eyes pleaded with her husband who lately seemed so far removed from her. For once her intense gaze seemed to penetrate.
"Fine! I want you all to know that I'm not happy about this! Harassing us at home at this time of night is uncouth and uncivilised! Rest assured your superior officers will hear of this!"
D'artagnan grinned. "It was our superior officer who gave the order Mon Seigneur." He nodded his head towards Athos. "This is our captain."
"Eric..." Elizabeth warned as she noticed her husband's face begin to redden. She stood and placed her hand on his arm as if to keep him in place.
"For goodness sake woman you tell me you are ill so sit down. I don't need you overexerting yourself on top of everything else." Elizabeth really did roll her eyes that time. She moved away from Eric again and resumed her seat. "I will be supervising your search," Eric added as an afterthought as he looked to Athos. "Surely that is allowed considering that this is my home and I do not know any of you."
"That's probably wise," agreed Porthos. "We wouldn't want you to start accusing us of planting things now would we?"
"Porthos stay here," Athos said with a nod towards Elizabeth and he followed Eric from the room with Aramis and D'artagnan in tow.
"I suppose you are here to see to it that I don't move?" Elizabeth queried as Porthos turned back towards her. "But would you mind if I poured myself a drink?"
"I think we can permit you to move from one side of the room to the other Madame," chuckled Porthos.
The decanter felt heavy in Elizabeth's shaking hands and she manoeuvred around the side table so that Porthos would not see the liquid sloshing around. When she tried to pour a glass of brandy though, she was sure he could not have missed the glass and the decanter clinking together repeatedly. With a full glass she returned to her seat to find Porthos watching her warily.
"Don't be nervous of us Madame. It's not us you want to be worried about. If we were not here, then red guards would be. The red guards take their orders from the city governor who was once himself just a normal Paris citizen. They see things very differently. We take our orders directly from the crown. The King's sister is married to your English king after all, so there is some sympathy within our king for the exiled English. The red guards would likely plant evidence to have your husband arrested, as I've already told you."
"What about me then?" she asked suddenly. "Are you not going to tell me what would happen to myself in such a case? Am I too weak minded to bear such things?"
Porthos offered her a genuine smile. "Madame if you have the gall to ask such a question, then you already know the answer. You don't need me to tell you anything. I think you're smart enough to know Paris is not a safe place for you without your husband. It is also not a safe place to be on your husband's side though Madame. Not now, after all the trouble he's caused in so many countries. He's got a fair few targets on his head. That's why we're here. To cut off any transactions at the source before they become something much bigger. We do not need that kind of trouble in Paris."
"So we're trouble are we Monsieur Porthos?" Elizabeth asked him with a raised brow, but she heard a little humour in her voice. "Do you think I don't know that? It follows us around like a bad smell. The thing is, I don't quite understand what it is you hope to find here? In any case, we've been here for all of two days. I know what kid of man my husband is Monsieur, but even he would struggle to cause that much trouble in two days."
"Betting slips, signed agreements, stolen jewellery and money of course. Your husband has quite the list of debts Madame. He's been making enemies all over Christendom and from what we hear he led them quite the merry dance in Italy."
"Yes he had a lot to answer for in Italy," Elizabeth whispered darkly, her expression suddenly cold and withdrawn. The humour of moments before vanished like a whisp of smoke and she felt somehow hollow, as if those memories now floating to the surface were somehow of another life.
The conversation died until the other men returned to the room. Eric appeared as angry as before, but there was no new ire in place since he had left the room. The musketeers began to search as the couple looked on and Elizabeth suddenly realised how little they had carried with them. They'd been to so many places and seen so many beautiful things but often they left in a hurry, sometimes taking only the very clothes they stood up in and a few pieces of jewellery to sell. They opened the drawers of the sideboard and Elizabeth felt a frisson of apprehension shoot up her spine. Sure enough, a few seconds later Aramis presented the little phials to Athos.
"These are very strong opiates. I've not seen the like sold here in Paris."
"Yes yes and they aren't illegal!" Elizabeth called from across the room.
"Quite the concoction all this would be if it were mixed together," Aramis mused as he lifted more phials from the drawer.
Elizabeth stood abruptly and crossed the room towards him. "And they are mine. They are nothing to do with my husband." Elizabeth snatched the opiates from his outstretched hand and stuffed them into the pocket of her skirts as she returned to her seat. Aramis threw her a glare that told Elizabeth he did not believe her at all.
"How did two money-strapped English exiles afford these grand lodgings anyway?" D'artagnan asked as if he hoped to diffuse the tension a little. "Surely you'd need a guarantor for a building like this?"
Elizabeth scoffed. "You really didn't do your research well enough, did you? My father rented these rooms for us."
"He's in Paris then?" Aramis asked. "That's a lucky break for you both! How idyllic your life must be, floating into towns and cities and straight into rather grand lodgings rented by someone else. Perhaps Madame you might wish to warn your father about your husband's previous lack of care towards lodgings and their furnishings. We know what happened in Nantes. We know you stripped the lodgings rented by a friend of yours of anything that was valuable and sold them before you left, but you didn't use the money to pay off the debts did you Mon Seigneur? What a life you both live. What remarkable freedom you've had for so long!"
Elizabeth lurched to her feet. The musketeer had unknowingly mentioned the one word which made her blood boil no matter the context in which it was used. "Elizabeth..." Eric warned.
Elizabeth shook off his grip of her wrist. "You really did not look into us at all did you? My married name Messieurs is de Vere but my maiden name is Clifford. Lady Elizabeth Clifford. My father was the Earl of Derby before his title was stripped from him and he scurried off to France, leaving behind my mother with two small children and another on the way. In the absence of my father the warrant was fulfilled in that my mother was arrested and sent to the tower. I was born there, where my mother and brothers still reside to this day. I was only released at the age of fourteen to marry that fool!" she gestured blandly at Eric who shook his head at her in a half-hearted warning. "Out of one cage and into another, some might say. Do not speak to me of freedom Monsieur!"
Elizabeth coughed and turned away as she brought a handkerchief up to cover her mouth. There was noise in the hallway as the front door was opened and a few seconds later they heard footsteps on the stairs. "That will be the doctor," Eric said.
"I'll see him in my room," Elizabeth mumbled as she slipped into the corridor that led to the bedchambers.
It appeared she'd left the men in a stunned sort of silence, with only Eric's voice discernible as he directed the doctor her way. She heard the musketeers finally leave as she spoke quietly with the doctor, and assured him that she did not need anything he offered. She forced herself not to voice certain concerns that the stress of being seen by doctors everywhere she went was not improving her health at all. Once the doctor had left she changed for bed and began to remove the pins holding her hair in its coiffed place. Eric appeared as she pulled a brush through her long blonde hair in light strokes.
"You're going out again?" she asked his reflection in her mirror. He was still dressed and was clutching a glass of liquid that was either brandy or whiskey. That was how she always knew. Eric rarely drank if he did not intend to go out.
"Just to the card tables for an hour or two Elizabeth. Besides, you'll be resting so you'll not know the difference. I always feel guilty shuffling around if you're trying to rest."
Elizabeth sighed heavily and put down the hairbrush. She turned on the stool so that she faced her husband. "Have we the money for you to play cards Eric? You cannot hope to get lucky every night."
"You can ask your father for some more tomorrow can't you?" he asked her quickly. "I'm not a fool Elizabeth. I know you'd ask anyway because your little potion habits need funding."
Elizabeth said nothing. She had indeed been thinking of appealing to her father for money when she saw him next but she had hoped Eric would not know of it. She had been able to keep very little of her own money in all the time they'd been married. That was not to say that Eric did not allow her any, but he always knew exactly what was in her purse and what she spent it on.
"Get some rest dear," he said gently as he smiled and left the room, pulling the door closed after him. Elizabeth turned back to her mirror. On many occasions when Eric slipped out, she too would disappear off into the night. She knew that Eric would not return until an hour closer to luncheon the next day and so she had all the time in the world to seek out some form of entertainment. She was too exhausted by the travelling of recent days though, and all of the commotion that seemed to follow herself and Eric around had made her weary. She was content to slip into bed and rest for once.
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