It was a warm sunny Sunday and the nobility and gentry of Paris were all attending church faithfully. The Bishop of Paris delivered his sermon with passion and conviction. Crying out to his congregation, warning them about the temptations of lust, the effects of jealousy and consequences of wrath. Jocelyn couldn't help but think he was speaking solely to her. As if she were the only person in the cathedral that morning.

Over the past few weeks Jocelyn had found herself inside the intimate parlour of her would be victim several times. The Count's wife had been sent away conveniently for her health, making her seduction of Evreux easier to accomplish than she thought. Her plans had been progressing well. Jocelyn had been able to convince the count that she was completely enthralled and was willing to give herself to him any day now. However, she maintained a playful ruse as to not draw suspicion. The vengeful woman was wary of Amaris' warning. She believed totally he would carry out his threat. He was an excellent swordsman. Never the less she had been planning her scheme since she was sixteen and though she would not willingly allow her former lover to catch her in the act she was not about to give up on her plan.

As her thoughts turned to Aramis in that holy place, she ignored the divine teachings of the Bishop and worried over their last meeting. He had been so angry with her and her with him. Jocelyn could never scarce to imagine that her life had turned out as thus. She wondered how different it could have been. Living on the farm with her lover by her side. A babe on her hip. She shook the distant idea from her mind. As she did so she caught the familiar sight of black cloth and leather to her right, standing two rows in front of her.

The bells pealed as the congregation left the cathedral. Bowing to his grace the Bishop on their way out. As the Countess descended the stone steps to the square, she spotted many of her friends and acquaintances and politely greeted them as she walked on by. Jocelyn climbed into her carriage carefully and sat down, grateful for the soft coverings beneath her in comparison to the hard wooden pews in church. As she settled down her footman was about to close the door, but was prevented as Aramis barred his way, one foot at the base of the carriage door.

"Jocelyn!" He spoke boldy.

The Countess looked at him like a deer before the hunter before regaining her composure.

"What can I do for you sir?"

She had to appear unfamiliar. All of Paris society were assembled around them. If she addressed him informally it would arouse suspicion.

"Countess, may I speak with you?" He replied understanding her tone.

"Forgive me, I must be gone quickly."

"It will not take long."

Jocelyn nodded her acquiesce and Aramis climbed into the carriage then sat opposite her. The footman remained at his post with the door to the carriage open. The musketeer removed his hat and thumbed the worn edge of the peak whilst he thought of what to say. Unable to bear the silence any longer Jocelyn was the first to speak.

"Why did you come here?"

Aramis snapped his head up instantly at her tone,

"In an attempt to convince you not to do this."

The young woman snorted and looked out of the opposite carriage window,

"You tried that once. We both know how that ended."

"Yes. But I thought you would have sense enough to stop yourself."

"I would not do that. Not now that I am so close." Jocelyn's voice cracked as she spoke. She coughed quickly to conceal it.

"What happened to you Jocelyn?"

"It is none of your concern."

"What has made you so vengeful that you are prepared to throw your life away?"

"What life?" She laughed.

"You are a women of considerable means. You have the power to do anything you want. Yet you would rather squander it out of some imagined slight that Evreux has done you."

Tears were now brimming in the corner of her eyes. Tears that she long ago swore would never resurface. But here they were brought to fruition by the words of her lost love.

"You have no idea what he has done to me! I am not the Countess of Dorziat this you know. Nor am I from Clement. My name is Jocelyn D'Aboville. My father was Christian D'Aboville. He was a good man. Pierre Evreux is the reason my father is dead. Now you know Rene my life is already forfeit and already was the day you met me."

Aramis sat there stunned. He could not believe what he had just hear but he had no reason to believe Jocelyn was lying. He reached out for her gloved hand as it lay unfolded on her knee. As his fingers touched the edge of her palm, the injured woman removed it swiftly before he could take it.

"I do not want your pity Rene! Now you know why I do what I must."

The young Musketeer was torn. The soldier in him was begging her to reconsider her plan. He stood by his earlier warning and knew if his men caught her they would not be so kind. But the lover in him wanted to fight for her honour and he would gladly complete the deed himself. In his heart though he knew that that was folly. He attempted to console her with words but was cut short,

"I think you should leave."

Aramis complied with her wish closing the carriage door behind him. He rest his hands on the glassless window and spoke with failing confidence,

"Jocelyn I understand your desire to do this. But I tell you once again don't do it."

The Countess merely looked at him and replied,

"Drive on."

As she watched Aramis from inside the cabin Jocelyn D'Aboville knew in heart she was running out of time. It was tonight or not at all.

~o0o~

Authors Note: Apologies for the long delay in posting this chapter. I have the ending of this story written a very long time however I was struggling with this chapter and the next chapter. I hope you like it. R+R of all kinds welcome! Thanks Mrs-E x