Stunned silence greeted them.
'What ex wife?'
'The one I never told you about' said Athos with a sigh.
The others looked at each other. Since when did Athos have a history? They had never asked him about one.
Rochefort motioned for them to sit while he patiently waited for the water to heat up on the stove, making himself decent in the meanwhile. The musketeers self consciously squeezed themselves on the squashy sofa and sat in silence for a while. Rochefort made the tea leaving Milady to curl up on the chair opposite, observing them from secretive blue eyes. Aramis and Porthos surreptitiously looked her up and down, noting the way the dressing gown moulded enticingly to her slender frame, the freckles on her wrist and slightly exposed skin peeking from the dressing gown, that glorious vixen hair. She wore no finery but a tiny diamond ring sparkling on her left hand. Athos knew he hadn't given her that.
'Who did you marry next to get that?' He nodded to the ring. Milady glanced at it in a casual manner. 'Don't tell me you're jealous of a dead man, Athos. That is quite unlike you.' He chose to ignore her taunt, registering a shadow in her look, the tone of her voice hiding her melancholy. Did she miss him, this other husband of hers? A faint twinge of jealousy punctuated his heart, followed by surprise. He had never needed jealousy, what use was it? Deep down he knew it was because she was the only one he had truly loved; his feelings were motivated for her apparent regret for her last husband, not him.
The other two looked askance. This was not quite the kind of lady they had imagined Athos would have married. Who was this exotic stranger?