Whatfunny: we'll find out more about Harry soon!

So this is the chapter where we find out who Elizabeth's love interest is. I don't know whether this is going to disappoint or please but it's just the way I found the story flowing! This story is all written so I can safely say there's reason for the pairing in later chapters!

As always, let me know what you think!

I'm on holiday next week so it might be a week or two until I can update this.

Chapter Seven - 3rd July 1632

There was still anger and frustration hanging in the air. It was extremely early in the morning, but Elizabeth had been awake for hours. She'd woken to wracking coughs as usual, but they'd been much worse that morning. It was all down to the stress of the evening before. She truly felt there was no way back for herself and Eric after the argument that had taken place the evening before. Elizabeth had reiterated her wishes to stay in Paris after Eric left, and she had finally told him how she really felt. He now knew that she thought their marriage entirely over and that she had contemplated leaving him for some months now. Despite knowing that she should be glad to finally be free and proud that she had taken such a stance for herself, Elizabeth could not help the empty feeling that was settling over her as she sat on the floor of the parlour in her nightgown. Things were rather untidy, as Eric had spent most of the evening ransacking every cupboard and drawer in search of any of his belongings that he might have forgotten about. Elizabeth suspected he had also taken some of her jewellery. He'd certainly left with more luggage than he'd arrived with in Paris. Their rule had always been to travel light but Eric had clearly forgone that conclusion to take as much as he could of Elizabeth's own money.

The lodgings felt empty now. There was still furniture and her belongings but Elizabeth felt as if she was intruding upon someone else's home. She could not place the sensation in her stomach either. She did not quite know how to describe how she felt about being single again. Of course, others would not see her as that. She would be pitied and mocked as a woman who could not keep her husband. No matter the real details, in circumstances like her own, Elizabeth knew that the woman was always seen to be at fault. They would say that she had not been able to satisfy Eric, and in some ways that was true. Eric had not been satisfied for more than a few years though and it was partly of his own making. If he'd not pulled away from her so after she'd lost their child then they might have been able to recover their relationship a little. It was not to be though. Elizabeth should have felt liberated. That was a word they used at those women's meetings. Elizabeth could not bring herself to feel that way, as she still grieved for what she could have had with Eric if they had both tried harder. Deep down within her she knew that there was not more that she could have done but little thoughts niggled at her mind over the course of the night that made her doubt herself. Eric had always wanted her to think that she was at fault where their strained relationship was concerned.

Unable to sleep, Elizabeth had decided to return to the parlour to say goodbye to Eric, but he'd already left. He'd somehow managed to sneak out without making a sound and now Elizabeth was entirely alone. She did not have a friend to speak of, and her mother and brothers were locked away in the tower. That was it, she was alone. It was a sobering thought. She'd always considered herself as tied to Eric for the rest of her life. She'd have been in his shadow, following his instructions to the letter and abiding his every rule. Now she had no place without a husband. society would frown upon her. Perhaps that might have served to bother her if she had been in better health.

There was nothing else for Elizabeth to do but try and define the time she would have left in Paris. She sorted through what little belongings she had to see what she could sell on and as much as she hated the thought of going out into the world, she forced herself to dress and venture out. There were no funny looks; no laughter followed her and no one stopped her to badger her with questions about Eric. She didn't quite know why, but Elizabeth had expected everyone to know, to have seen in her eyes that her husband had left her and to look down on her because of it. instead she was able to amble through the Paris streets alone at a leisurely pace. This left her time to really think about what had happened the evening before and compartmentalise it. When she really considered it, there was nothing stopping her from remaining in Paris indefinitely apart from her illness. Once she had heard the reading of her father's will she would be free to go where she pleased provided she had the finances.

At length Elizabeth found herself at home again, at a loss for what to do in the empty lodgings. It really brought it home to her how little she really had to her name. She doubted she had much more than her mother and brothers had in the tower. It was not a material lack of wealth that she felt, but more that she had lived in the free world for six years and she had not a thing that she cherished because it brought back happy memories or because it was something she loved to wear. She had no connection to any of her belongings whatsoever. It was a sobering thought that after she was gone from the world there would be little left of her that actually meant something in her life. There was her wedding ring of course, but she'd torn it from her hand the evening before and thrown it at Eric. It had missed his head by mere inches and had somehow found it's way into the corner of the room. It was no longer where it had landed, so Elizabeth knew that Eric must have taken it.

Unable to shake the depressing thoughts, within a short while Elizabeth was venturing out again with a much more determined sense of purpose. She knew it was still early, but there would be parties already beginning somewhere within the city in some grand house or other that she could gain admittance to.

Elizabeth couldn't quite place her feelings. She had once again found herself in the house she had frequented a few times since her father's death. She couldn't decide whether she was avoiding Harry de Vere or wanted to see him and so she found herself in one of his regular haunts, hidden in the corner of the room as she and everyone around her imbibed in rather too much alcohol and opiates. With a deep sense of sadness hanging over her and a pressure on her chest, Elizabeth brushed off the offer of opiates and sipped on some wine instead as she watched the young people around the room enjoying themselves. It felt as if she was older than them, so far removed when in fact many of them were quite a few years older than her. Elizabeth had been married for six years though and she was quickly coming to realise that she had sacrificed a lot of enjoyment for Eric's sake. That thought didn't make her want to jump up and join in with the antics playing out before her though. It was in fact a lesson. Elizabeth was beginning to realise that perhaps Eric had isolated her on purpose. She'd barely been able to make a real connection with someone she might have eventually considered a friend when Eric would pick her up and drag her off again to somewhere new. Most of the time they had no choice but to leave, but Elizabeth could readily recall instances where Eric had prevented her from going out. Had he really become so hard hearted?

The hours wiled on and darkness fell as Elizabeth gazed out of the window into the street. The hustle and bustle of the Latin quarter gave way to the revellers that would roam the streets until sunset, seeking a release from whatever torment they faced in the daylight hours. Elizabeth had cautioned herself to pace her drinking as she was feeling ill, but before long she had consumed two bottles of wine without paying much attention and had begun her third. Harry made no appearance but she was not surprised. Harry was the kind of man who went to a different party every night and had three different women waiting for him at each party. The red wine had instilled a sense of bravery within Elizabeth, so much so that when she saw a familiar face across the crowded room she stood up and called the musketeer over to her over everyone else's heads.

Athos threw her a stern glance as he made his way over, clearly upset at having been so brusquely summoned. "Have you no other business to attend to Monsieur? Must you follow me here again?"

His patience was tested, Elizabeth could tell. "Madame, I did not follow you here in the first instance, nor this second. I was here on other business."

"Go and attend to it then and leave me be!" Elizabeth roared despite knowing full well she had called the musketeer to her.

"My business is now concluded for the evening Madame," Athos supplied coolly. "I do wonder if yours is only just beginning though? I heard tell that a woman's meeting took place a few streets away this afternoon that became quite violent. The group separated to reconvene later. Perhaps you are here awaiting orders from your comrades?"

Elizabeth snorted. "What meeting? No, I heard not of one. They wouldn't want me involved anyway. No, you'd better look elsewhere if you want to find conspirators. All you will find here are drunkards."

Instead of leaving, Athos took a seat on the opposite side of the table and Elizabeth frowned at him. "Madame I am well aware all here are drunk, as are you! Have you not a husband that might take you home?"

"How dare you!" Elizabeth wanted to jump out of her seat and stand over him as she shouted, but she knew she would likely topple over and that would really loose her all momentum over the man. "Might a woman not drink and return home of her own accord? Why on earth do we always need a man's permission? Why may we not look after ourselves? Let me tell you Monsieur musketeer, we do a much better job ourselves than our husbands ever have! If you'd ever been married then you'd have some understanding of that!"

His face changed then, from mere annoyance to something entirely different. It was a carefully controlled rage. "I have been married Madame," was all the reply that he offered.

"Hmm, well you know then how capable women are."

He nodded stiffly. "Madame I'm well aware of just what women are capable of when left to their own devices. That is why I do not believe you when you say you did not attend a meeting this afternoon. I think you are lying to try to cover for some friends of yours!"

"Friends?" Elizabeth cried. "I have no friends Monsieur! Those women are not my friends. Indeed I never did profess to like them at all! I am a woman of modern beliefs and fully support the campaigns for women's rights that are happening all over the country. I will not lie and say I have never been to any meetings before today as I have. Their speeches amused me. I was not at a meeting today however. I have been ousted from their ranks for reasons as yet unknown."

"Be that as it may Madame, you are alone and extremely intoxicated. I also have reason to believe you may disturb the peace if you were to meet with another woman from these meetings so I'm afraid I must escort you home-"

"What sort of game are you playing musketeer?" Elizabeth had finally managed to get to her feet albeit very unsteadily and pulled her coat closer around herself. "Do you mean to spy on me, or my husband? Is that what all of this is about? Walking me home again, when there was no need for you to do so the first time and even less need this time? I'm taking a carriage home so there will be no need for your assistance this evening."

With that Elizabeth began to move, winding her way between the clusters of tables and chairs around the room all the while still aware of the man moving closely behind her. "Don't you dare follow me," she snarled over her shoulder at him as she crossed the threshold out into the street. Of course Elizabeth had no intentions of hailing a hackney to take her back to her lodgings as she couldn't spare the coin so she hurried on towards the street corner, hoping she could loose the musketeer in a crowd of young dandies that were dallying up ahead. She skirted through them all easily and turned down a side street. From there she broke into a run that she knew she would pay for later and left the Latin quarter behind for the Pont Notre-Dame that took her back over the river. Only when she had reached the Rue de la Coutellerie and was out of sight of the river did Elizabeth think to slow her pace a little. Towards the end of the street she came to a stop altogether, her breath frozen somehow in her chest. She gasped in air that would not flow down into her lungs as she began to sway from side to side unwillingly. The wracking coughs began then, and all that Elizabeth could desperately think as she heard footsteps coming towards her 'Not here, please not here...'

Perhaps she should have let the musketeer take her home, simply to forgo the predicament and distress she now found herself in. Tears sprang to her eyes partly from humiliation but mostly from the pain that was increasing in her chest. She tried to breathe normally even though she desperately wanted to suck in large breaths and flood her lungs with the cool air. The fog that had descended before her eyes abruptly cleared and Elizabeth remembered where she was, only a few streets away from the river. She turned towards the approaching footsteps and glared with as much intensity as she could muster even though she had to lean back against the wall behind her to stop the world from spinning. The musketeer was striding towards her with a bored expression painted on his face. Elizabeth thought the expression must have been deliberate because he was anything from bored; she could tell by his eyes. They were cold and hard and fiercely angry.

"I don't recall giving you permission to follow me musketeer! Do you not think perhaps your actions might be seen as disturbing? Following me around as if I'm some sort of criminal!"

He stopped before her, standing far too close for Elizabeth's liking and she squirmed under what she found to be the most uniquely intense gaze she had ever seen. He could be a powerful man if he wanted to, that she could tell by the way he stood. "Madame, I would chase you all over Paris if I had to, to ensure that you were returned safely home. It is not customary for a gentleman to leave a woman alone to wander the streets when she is clearly upset and intoxicated. Regardless of my dealings with your husband or any of your friends, I was intending to see you into a carriage before you sped off. You never did plan to take a carriage home did you?"

Elizabeth pushed herself off the wall and stood to her full height even though the way he was looking down at her reminded her very much of someone she had known a long time ago, someone who had belittled and coerced her. "It appears that I spent all of the coin I had in my purse," she answered haughtily. "It is no matter though. It is a pleasant and clear night. I thought nothing of walking back to my lodgings and wished to do so in peace. I did not wish for a recurrence of last time, when you badgered me all the way there! As you have correctly surmised I am indeed upset and wanted some time to myself."

"Then with all due respect Madame you should have taken rooms somewhere in the city where you might have found solitude, but walking the streets of the Latin quarter I have no choice but to escort you home. If something were to happen to you; heaven forbid but if it did, we might be held accountable as my regiment is investigating your husband."

He struck his arm out towards hers, and for a moment Elizabeth thought Athos was going to take her in a vice like grip and drag her. Instead the hold he took of her upper arm was firm but gentle and he began to walk, leaving Elizabeth little choice but to follow. She could see his seething anger bubbling just below the surface, and she had no idea what he would be capable of if he snapped. She had seen men snap before of course, and heard them. She remembered cold dank nights in the tower when she could not sleep for the screams and cries of the man held in the room below them. He went slowly mad. He was there long before her mother and brothers were sent to the tower, and died not long after Elizabeth had been released. It had been frightening, but it was not the man that had frightened her. No, Elizabeth had felt for him, and she had felt his pain keenly. It was the madness that had overtaken him that frightened her. Whilst she and her family were allowed a daily walk before sunrise in the mornings, and often Elizabeth would get the chance for another in the evening when a certain visitor came, the man in the room below them was never permitted to leave his room. He never had visitors and the warden had told him the conditions he lived in were dire. In the beginning her mother had put a little food aside and placed a few coins in the bottom of the basket for the man. She had thought perhaps it might enable him to purchase a blanket or something of the kind, but the warden had told them later on that night that the gift had not been gratefully received. They hadn't needed to take his word for it. They'd heard the screams. They had heard how the man attacked the stone walls of his prison in such a violent manner that he had to be restrained. Her mother offered no more gifts after that. There was truth in what was said of the tower though, money made incarceration there that much more bearable.

Men; people in fact could snap so easily. Elizabeth had come to realise she had offended the musketeer when she assumed he had not been married before. She wondered why that was as they walked in silence for a time. Perhaps he had not been a very good husband. Perhaps he really did have a bad tempter. Then she chastised herself. Just because she had a bad experience of husbands did not mean that all were terrible. Perhaps it was the wife who had not been good. Maybe she had been the one with the temper. nevertheless, he was certainly angry now. Elizabeth wasn't about to apologise to the musketeer, for she had not liked him at all since they had met and he'd been uncommonly rude to her at times.

"How does your investigation of my husband go?" she asked blandly as they entered the Marais.

"Would it be wise of me to inform you of our findings?" Athos asked her and Elizabeth found she could hear amusement in his tone.

"Why should you not? I think I have a right to know! I think I know my husband well Monsieur and I do not think you shall uncover anything I do not already know. If there is something though, do you not think I have a right to know as I am married to the man."

He shook his head incredulously. "You know your husband well Madame? Yes that's right, you were entirely expecting to find him upon your doorstep in the embrace of another woman these four nights past weren't you?"

Athos had stopped walking to gauge her reaction, and she faltered a little as she thought she almost saw pity in his gaze. "Monsieur I know my husband is not faithful. I have always known. I did not think he would bring it into our home, that's all."

"And what do you expect to find upon your return tonight Madame? Is this the reason for your excessive libations?"

"He won't be there Monsieur," Elizabeth sighed, hoping he would delve no further. "He's not at home."

Athos was still staring at her, and Elizabeth turned to walk on, but his grip of her arm held her in place. "He's left you hasn't he?"

Elizabeth shook off his grip of her arm, suddenly needing to put some distance between herself and the musketeer. "It was a mutual decision."

Elizabeth had to stop herself from saying more. She didn't quite know what it was that made her want to divulge it all to a stranger, but perhaps it was a testament to how drunk she was, and how she lacked a friend to confide in. She knew though that the musketeer no more wanted to hear her tale of woe than she wanted to tell it to him. "And yet you're out alone, in quite a sorry state. It seems to me that you are more upset than a mutual decision gives credit for Madame."

Elizabeth was taken aback by his abrupt response. She scoffed a little at him as he finally resumed walking. "Am I not permitted to be upset that my marriage is at an end Monsieur? I have known for some time it was coming to an end, but to be here at that end is quite something else." She found herself babbling, not caring that he was likely burning a hole in the musketeer's ear. If he was going to make such statements, then she would endure boring him with the story. "For the last four years Eric and I lived as brother and sister practically. We were companionable at times, at each others throats the next moment. The love was gone though. That I was certain of."

"Does someone stay with you?"

Elizabeth thought it a curious question and hid her shock behind a well-timed cough. "Why should they? I'm not a child Monsieur. I do not need someone consoling me in the early hours. I am perfectly happy. I am liberated now. I have no reason to need companionship."

He nodded at her reply and was silent for a few more minutes. "I suppose you are grateful that there are no children involved then," he mused. "That would make such a separation all the more harder. I know I was."

Elizabeth had no reply for her heart had plummeted into her stomach. He knew that his words had upset her as the pain of the last four years washed over Elizabeth's face. "I do not think that's an appropriate question Monsieur," she whispered thinly. She was free of his hold now. She stepped decidedly away from him as if to turn down a side street. "I really do think that all of this is inappropriate now Monsieur. I must ask you to leave me now. I can make my own way from here. It is only a street away. I cannot allow you to accompany me any further."

"Madame I cannot permit you to-"

"PERMIT ME?" who the hell do you think you are?" Elizabeth shoved his chest with the flat of her palm but he barely flinched. "You follow me around like I'm some sort of criminal, insulting me as if I'm some street rat, and what's more you are mocking me! I shall make a complaint about you Monsieur and...and..."

Elizabeth lost her train of thought as Athos approached her and she backed into the wall of the dark alleyway, suddenly sure that she had made him snap. He was so angry, staring down at her as if she were the most insipid and despicable child he'd ever seen. Her breath caught in her throat again and Elizabeth feared she would have another attack, although it would fairly shock the man before her. He was looming ever closer, his eyes locking with hers in such a way that Elizabeth could not look away at all. It was then that she realised it was not anger she saw there, but hunger. His eyes flitted between her mouth to her eyes as she felt his breath on her face.

"...What...what on earth do you think you are doing Monsieur?" she whispered as he came closer still.

Then his lips crashed onto hers with force, and Elizabeth grabbed his shoulders to try and push him off. He tasted sweet, but his actions were not so. Elizabeth had never been kissed that way in her six years of marriage. She had never been kissed that way in all of her life. Harry had stolen a kiss from her once, before she married Eric. It had been exciting and different to what she knew, but this was something else entirely. There was so much anger and pain in the kiss that Elizabeth stopped pushing him away. She didn't have the heart to when he clearly had such passion inside of him. His tongue sought entrance to her mouth and she gave it even as she told herself it was all wrong. His hands were on her waist, pushing her back into the wall as he stood over her, and she felt her feet lifting so that she stood on tip-toe with her neck craned to reach him. Then there was no air. Elizabeth tried to pull away but he would not let her. She thumped his chest hard three times and he was gone. He stepped back into the alleyway as she coughed and gasped.

"I cannot breathe..." Elizabeth clawed at the top of her bodice as if that would somehow flood her lungs and shook her head at Athos. "I cannot do this Monsieur. We cannot. I have a husband-"

"A husband who has left you Madame?" He stepped closer then, tracing his fingers across the side of her face as she let tears escape her eyes. "Tell me you do not want it, and I'll walk away right now. I'll not even accompany you to your door. You'll not see me again. Tell me."

Elizabeth couldn't. There was something within her that just could not tell him to leave. She wanted him to, and she didn't. "What do you take me for Monsieur? I am not what you think! My husband might be unfaithful but I am not! I have only ever been with him. I am not what you want. I am not...I have never..."

"I take you as I see you before me now Madame." Athos brushed a lock of hair away from her face. "A soul in pain, as I am. You have a goodness in you which your husband does not. I never suspected a thing of you. Your eyes are too kind, for you have seen too much pain and despair to want any more in the world. No Madame, believe me when I say I see you only as you are. Do you not think perhaps you might need this just as much as I do?"

Elizabeth gaped at him, at his audacity. She she could not argue with the point he made. Could she need to be with someone again? Would it help? It was as she had said, she'd only ever been intimate with her husband, and their marriage bed had been a cold one those past four years. She was single now was she not; alone too? How was she to brave the time she had left in Paris? Would it not feel good to spend an hour or two with someone, to experience something again. There was the morning to think of though. If he did not leave until then, he would see her at her worst. The mornings were full of wracking coughs and sickness of a kind that would surely cure his attraction to her. Then she realised that it didn't matter. One night, that was it. It did not matter what came the next day or the day after. hadn't she been trying to live in the moment for months?

"I do not know what you expect from me?" she asked him then, and his expression changed again to something that was akin to kindness.

"Madame, I expected nothing. I think perhaps you should be want to be expecting of me."

Elizabeth shook her head quickly. The thought to doubt the man before her had never entered her head. "Monsieur I do not think so. I do think you may be disappointed in me. I'm not-"

He was kissing her again, so fiercely that her head collided with the wall behind her. Then he was moving, dragging her along in his wake towards her lodgings. "Madame if this is what you want I need to to tell me. I will not come inside if you do not wish me to." They were walking at an alarming pace and reached her lodgings in no time at all. They were both panting with exertion and expectation. Athos stopped before the steps and looked down at her, clearly desperate for her to give him an answer.

She did not care for any humiliation she might face suddenly. Was she not planing to leave Paris anyway? "Alright. Alright."

He nodded at her, and they ascended the steps together. Elizabeth unlocked the door with more haste than ever before and then they were racing up the stairs to the first floor. They tore through the parlour and into the corridor that led to her bedroom. Once in the doorway though, Elizabeth stopped. She did not know how to do it. She had never done so reckless a thing in her life and it terrified her but she wanted it all the same. Athos pushed past her into the room and tuned to face her.

"Madame if this is not-"

"My name is Elizabeth! Call me Elizabeth."

He nodded. "Tell me what you want Elizabeth. Do you wish for the love and tenderness of a husband or-"

"No I don't want that," she suddenly decided. "I want something else. I want this as it is. I want the unknown and the reckless, which is exactly what this is. I want..." Images flooded Elizabeth's mind and she knew not how to phrase what she wanted. She did not even know if it would be right of her to say such things.

"Tell me..." he whispered so gently that she could do nothing else but look into his eyes. "Tell me what it is you want, so that I may give it to you. Explain it to me. Do not think I will shocked by what you say Elizabeth."

She tried to find her words, letting the images slip away so that she could think clearly. "I've never... Well I've never felt wanted. If you understand my meaning, I've never had that lustful desire, or see anyone have such feelings for me. I've not had that heart-stopping kind of urgency of want and desire. This sounds ridiculous..." Athos was shaking his head at her, admonishing her for her embarrassment. "Don't treat me like a husband does his wife, or at least how my husband treated me. It was like it was a duty and nothing more. I want it to be what is preached against. I want it to be wicked and sinful. I want it to be more anger than kindness."

She thought he was going to speak again but instead he launched himself forwards and grabbed her. he turned her about and pushed her down onto the bed unceremoniously. Then he was on top of her, kissing her again as he had done in the alleyway, as if he'd never get to kiss her again. Elizabeth felt her fear and equilibrium vanish in seconds and she locked her arms around his neck as his hand was reaching down to pull up her skirts.