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The ride back into the heart of the city had been a peaceful one, and d'Artagnan had felt calm and relaxed despite the events of the prior day. When Milady had leaned back against him, he'd clasped her hands in his, relishing the warmth and comfort her closeness provided. His feelings for her were a confusing mix of attraction and apprehension, and their relationship thus far had reflected those emotions in an odd dance of push and pull as they seemed drawn to one another, only to be repulsed later on. It made his head hurt if he thought on it too long and hard, and he'd finally resigned himself to simply enjoy the feeling of her lounging against his chest as they rode.
His peaceful state was interrupted as he caught sight of Constance ahead, her face creased with worry and her body taut with unspoken fear. Instinctively, he straightened at once in reaction to her unspoken signal that danger was imminent. At his front, Milady followed suit, but his mind was only barely aware of his passenger, while he focused intensely on the scene unfolding before him.
Constance wasn't alone, and it was clear that the large man in front of her was the reason for her strained countenance. d'Artagnan was torn, uncertain about whether he should intervene or simply pass by, since it was possible that his interference would be unwelcome. When Constance cried out, the Gascon's mind was made up, and before conscious thought could assert itself, he'd already dismounted and pressed the horse's reins into Milady's hands.
He covered the distance between himself and Constance quickly, his eyes darting to meet hers before meeting those of the man she was with. Her companion was indeed large, his broad shoulders easily twice the width of d'Artagnan's slighter frame. His face was hard and spoke of years of fights, a scar running the length of one cheek and alongside a nose that had been broken more than once.
Standing tall, and positioning himself slightly in front of his landlady, d'Artagnan addressed the man. "Monsieur, what is your business with this woman?" At his back, he could sense Constance stiffening, but he kept his attention front and centre.
The man's features turned even harsher as he steadfastly glared at the person who'd neatly inserted himself into a private conversation. About to say exactly that, he was stopped as Constance put a restraining hand on the young man's arm, speaking lowly, but still loudly enough that both men could hear her words. "d'Artagnan, don't; this is none of your business."
The Gascon couldn't help but turn in surprise at her words, hastily taking a step back so that he could still keep an eye on the other man while he spoke with Bonacieux. "Constance," he replied softly, his tone holding a hint of warning in it. "I just want to make sure you're alright." He fell silent as he waited for an answer, his focus back on the giant for several seconds. When nothing was forthcoming, he shifted his gaze to her, settling on her annoyed expression. "Are you?" he asked more meekly. "Alright, that is?"
"I'm fine," she answered, although he could still detect a slight tremble in her voice that belied her words. Infusing her next statement with greater strength to make it more believable, she went on. "And as I stated earlier, this is none of your business."
d'Artagnan wavered with uncertainty, his instincts telling him that something was amiss, despite Constance's assertions. He stared hard at her, trying to see the truth in her eyes, but all he could see was determination in the set of her mouth and shoulders. Still, he could not dismiss the feeling that something was wrong, regardless of the fact that he couldn't pinpoint what exactly was troubling him. Before he could voice his concerns, another person interrupted his thoughts.
d'Artagnan's head snapped to the newcomer, this one much smaller than his companion and wearing a large smile on his face. "Madame Bonacieux is correct Monsieur…" He paused, waiting for the Gascon to offer his name, and shrugging slightly when none was forthcoming. "This is a private business matter, and we were just concluding our conversation." He looked meaningfully at Constance until she nodded in agreement, d'Artagnan watching the exchange with suspicion.
"Now, as we'd been discussing, you'll bring full payment with you tomorrow, and our business will be concluded," the man continued, receiving another, albeit more reluctant nod from Constance. "Excellent," he responded, about to turn away and then pausing as though he'd changed his mind. "But, leave your friend at home." The words were spoken in a less than friendly tone that had d'Artagnan's hackles rising, but the man was already turning to walk away. Wanting to give the man a warning of his own, he reached out a hand to catch his arm, only to find himself suddenly on the ground, watching the spinning sky above him as he tried to understand what had just happened.
"Oh, d'Artagnan, why didn't you listen when I told you this wasn't your concern?" Constance asked as she wiped at the young man's face. "Broussard is not a man to be trifled with."
Still stunned, the Gascon did his best to process her words, finally mumbling a reply. "What?" Bonacieux's face took on a sterner expression as she wiped at his face once more, d'Artagnan managing to catch her wrist as his mind began to clear. Holding on to her appendage and pulling it away from his face, he tried to focus on her hand as he asked, "What're you doing?"
She pulled her arm from his grasp as she huffed in irritation. "I was trying to wipe some of the blood off your face. You can't exactly go traipsing through Paris looking like that."
d'Artagnan's brow furrowed in confusion as Constance's words ignited the ache in his cheek and lip. Gingerly, he pressed two fingers against his mouth, pulling them back to find them red with blood. Slowly, his thoughts coalesced as he asked incredulously, "He hit me?"
"Yes," Constance replied as she rose, dragging him up with her. When it was obvious that he wouldn't fall over, she released her hold on his arm, smoothing her skirts down in an effort to push the wrinkles from the fabric.
She was about to turn away when d'Artagnan's hand on her arm stopped her. For several long moments, she refused to look at him, but the Gascon needed to understand what was going on and he refused to be put off. As though coming to that same realization, she let out a long sigh, her shoulders drooping as she finally met his eyes. "Really, it's nothing for you to concern yourself with." Her voice was much softer now than before and held a hint of pleading that d'Artagnan was unaccustomed to hearing from her.
Softening his tone in response, he said, "Constance, if you're in any sort of trouble, then I want to help." She worried her lower lip for several seconds and he guessed that she was beginning to falter. "Please, tell me what's going on. Who were those men and what business do you have with them?"
With a look of defeat clouding her face, Constance took the Gascon's hand, guiding him back towards the building that overlooked the street. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise me that you won't interfere." She locked gazes with him and waited until he dipped his chin in acquiescence. "Finances have been tight at home, and I needed to arrange a small loan to tide us over. This conversation was simply to discuss the terms of my repayment."
d'Artagnan stared at her for nearly a minute, his mind digesting what he'd been told and not liking the conclusions he'd drawn. Constance fidgeted under his gaze, wishing the young man had never stumbled upon them and discovered her situation. Finally, he replied, "You borrowed money from that man?"
Tremulously, Constance nodded, already preparing to voice her defense. "What choice did I have? It's not like everyone is in a hurry to lend money, and even fewer of them are willing to deal with a woman. It's easy for you, being a man, but I had fewer options and had no choice…" Her rambling came to an abrupt halt as d'Artagnan pressed his finger against her lips, his gaze once more locking onto hers.
"Constance," he began, staring intently into her eyes. "Can you repay your loan?"
She held his gaze unflinchingly for several seconds before dropping her eyes, her head shaking in reply as she breathed out a single word. "No."
He was about to pull her into his arms to comfort her when Milady arrived at his side, loudly announcing her presence. "d'Artagnan, are you about done here?"
The Gascon dropped his hands from Constance's arms as she straightened and lifted her head, her look of shock at Milady's presence vanishing quickly and replaced by a look of polite disinterest. d'Artagnan looked between the two women, feeling the tension in the air, and finding himself torn between his conflicting sense of responsibility to both of them.
As though sensing his discomfort, Constance replied on his behalf. "Yes, quite finished," she said, intentionally addressing Milady. Turning her attention to d'Artagnan, she went on. "Thank you for your assistance. It was quite unnecessary, but I appreciate your intent." Gathering up her skirts in one hand, she graced Milady with a polite smile and then moved away, the growing crowd swallowing her quickly.
Placing a hand gently on his arm, Milady opined, "Well, these two days have held more than enough adventure for me." She took a moment to carefully examine his reddened cheek and split lip. d'Artagnan flashed her a look that easily telegraphed his disbelief, and she had the grace to flush mildly. "Regardless, it's high time for me to be home so I can change out of these clothes." Pinning the Gascon with a flirtatious smile, she asked, "Care to join me?"
It was d'Artagnan's turn to look embarrassed, and he grasped her hand awkwardly as he led her back to his horse, wordlessly mounting before helping her do the same. Milady broke the uneasy silence that had fallen. "That was your landlady, the draper's wife?" The Gascon grunted in acknowledgement as he continued to weave the horse through the crowded street. "Seemed like she was in a spot of trouble."
d'Artagnan bit his lip, certain that Constance wouldn't appreciate him sharing her difficulties with a stranger, while Milady allowed the quiet to stretch. Several minutes passed before he answered, causing his passenger to smile smugly in triumph. "They're experiencing some financial troubles," he bit out, feeling like he might choke on the words as he privately considered his contribution to the situation. Without conscious thought, he continued speaking, putting voice to the concerns that filled his head. "If only I'd been able to pay my rent on time, this could have all been avoided."
Smirking to herself, Milady took advantage of the young man's guilt. "I suppose having a third mouth to feed would put a strain on even the best-managed households."
The Gascon closed his eyes at his companion's words, not even having considered the many meals that Constance had pressed on him during the time he'd been under her roof. That fact made it even clearer that he bore a large part of the fault for the Bonacieux's current situation, and he would have to find some way to help them.
As if reading his mind, Milady lamented in a sad tone, "If only there were some way you could help."
d'Artagnan winced at her words, but didn't comment, and they completed the remainder of their ride in silence. When they arrived at the lady's lodgings, he once more dismounted first before helping her down. He was so distracted that he almost missed what she said and did next. "Thank you for everything, d'Artagnan. It was not how I'd envisioned our time together, but I'm grateful for all of your assistance."
The Gascon nodded and was already turning away when Milady continued. "Please, take this as a token of my gratitude." d'Artagnan blinked hard as he focused on the item in her outstretched hand. In her open palm lay an delicate gold hairpin, it's one end adorned with several small, colorful stones. His fingers itched to grab it as his mind comprehended the value of the gift being offered to him. Even at first glance, he was certain that it could buy Constance out of her debt. But still, he hesitated, unwilling to replace his debt to Bonacieux with one to Milady.
Sensing his reluctance, the lady leaned forward, reaching her hand into the folds of his doublet to tuck the hairpin inside. "It is a gift, d'Artagnan, and I expect nothing in return." With that, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and moved away with a flourish of her skirts, leaving the Gascon to wonder in dumbfounded amazement at how his luck had turned. With a grin on his face, he pulled himself into the saddle, excited to see Constance that night so he could share with her his good fortune.