Having spent the day caring for the general and having completed all the tasks I had set myself, I left the general once more to follow after Lucie, intending to show her where I had prepared a hot bath for her to bathe in. As little as we partook of baths, she had been kept under such close scrutiny and unable to change her gown for so long, a proper wash was warranted at this time to dispel the many months of imprisonment still cloying to her skin. I glanced to the general, seeing him resting but still looking unwell, and opened the door.
There, I stumbled upon the moment d'Artagnan reached for Lucie to bestow upon her a kiss, catching her face in his hands to indulge in his fleeting desire. I froze. They had not heard me open the door, neither were they aware that someone was watching them, for I was not alone. Down in the courtyard, I could see Constance standing by the archway, looking both as hurt as she was resigned to allowing d'Artagnan his passions to turn elsewhere. When they parted, I heard the separation clearly, and when Lucie turned to see me, she flushed slightly.
It took everything I possessed not to burst in outrage, for it was not her fault, and neither was it d'Artagnan's in truth. I was just so very vexed and frustrated with the situation Constance had placed herself in that I could not bear to see the man she loved locking lips with another. I cleared my throat delicately, so that when d'Artagnan looked and saw Constance, he also turned his head to recognise me standing there. "If you like, mademoiselle, I can show you to where you may bathe and change," she looked as glad for the distraction as I, and she readily accepted the offer.
I brought her away from d'Artagnan and Constance who began to speak, Constance having been sent to enquire on the health of General de Foix on behalf of the queen, but it was not long before we both heard their raised voices. Lucie started in alarm the first she heard them. "Have I unwittingly stepped into an ongoing war between lovers?"
"I would rather call it a stalemate more than a war," I sighed heavily, taking a moment to gather myself before gesturing to the tub which was steaming invitingly in the small guest room I had quickly prepared for Lucie. "There is soap and a change of clothes, I hope they fit."
"They are wonderful, thank you." Lucie smiled to me prettily, and I returned the sentiment with a nod. "And thank you for all you have done for my brother. My gratitude goes beyond words, he is…" sensing the painful fear in her voice, I reached to steady Lucie as she staggered under a shuddering gasp, clutching at her chest fretfully. "He is all I have left."
"I know what it means to feel as such," comforting her, I began to help her undress of her dirty clothes and promptly kicked them aside so that I could help the woman into the water and dutifully began to sponge at her shoulders and back, smoothing away the dirt and grime. "My brother is as Musketeer, one of the men who came to rescue you and your own brother. Athos. Although, they are all as dear as brothers to me, but Athos I can claim by blood. He and I are all that remain of our family, and so I understand how it is you feel." Lifting a jug, I filled it with water from the bath then poured it over her head, allowing it to seep fully into her hair. Once she straightened, I smoothed back the now soaked locks, turning her fair face towards me. "I can make no promises, but that will not stop me from doing all I can to keep him alive."
"And I thank you for it all the more," satisfied we had reached an understanding, I continued to help Lucie bathe and dress in a fresh, warmed gown which I had prepared for her, one of cornflower blue which suited her features wonderfully. I regretted that I could not stay, but all the while I had been helping Lucie, I was conscious of the fact that Constance no doubt needed someone to comfort her. I hurried back to the palace, rushing against decorum until returning to my shared bedchamber, where I found Constance collapsed against her bed, sobbing into the coverings.
"Oh my poor, dear Constance…" sweeping forwards, I enveloped her into my arms whereby she howled her sorrows and woes into me, soaking my dress in the waves of tears she shed as I held her and rocked her until it had all passed. We spoke of nothing that evening, I merely held her and comforted her until she was sound asleep, wishing there was more I could do. Yet she was stubborn. Perhaps not one of her finer qualities, but once in a state of conviction, Constance was quite immoveable, and she had decided to choose a sensible life. One of security and dignity. I understood her logic, but I wished there was a way for her to have the best of both worlds.
It was a puzzle I troubled over all the night through, but was yet to receive the divine strike of inspiration that would solve everything that troubled me. Come morning, Constance was a little more settled and able to speak, but first I fetched her something to drink and a wet cloth to dab upon her face to soothe the redness of her eyes. "Did you quarrel with d'Artagnan?" I ventured gently as I tended to her, keeping Constance sitting comfortably upon the propped cushions with a thick covering around her shoulders.
"I told him the truth, that was all. That I could not be his mistress, not when there was so much risk. If he died, I would have nothing to live on, and if we ever had children…" her voice faded into nothing, but I inferred her meaning from the missing words she failed to speak.
"Constance, you must realise that I would never allow you to starve, or your children. Were the worse to happen, I would help provide. I would never see you destitute." This was nothing short of the truth. It was almost ridiculous that Constance would ever imagine herself to be so readily abandoned should an ill-fate befall d'Artagnan. "And I would not be alone. Athos, Aramis and Porthos would also contribute, and Treville is a reasonable man. I have no doubt he would grant you a subsidised income, there are ways and means, you silly goose."
"It is not just that, and you know it. I could never become a burden to you, I never want to see you stretched so thin as you once were, it would kill me if you had to work yourself back to the bone just to put food in my mouth and a roof over my head." Having settled myself beside Constance, she raised her arm and opened the covering so that I could wriggle closer to her, pulling the covering over me so that we were both engulfed in the warm, soft sense of comfort. "I would never be able to lift my face ever again."
"Men are so blessed and yet they do not realise," to this Constance huffed in agreement. She rested her head upon my shoulder as I continued to think and ponder. "Whatever decision you make, Constance, I shall support you through it no matter the outcome. It is your life and therefore your right to choose how you live it…but I will not see you back in Bonacieux's clutches. Not again. I cannot risk him taking you from me for good."
"He is just worried that I will stray again from my duty…"
"A better man would recognise your discontent and wish for you to be happy." I felt her mouth close against me as I began to brush at her auburn curls. To distract myself from these confounding dilemmas, I imagined what a child created between d'Artagnan and Constance might look like. A bonny little thing, to be certain. I imagined a boy with his father's charcoal black hair and his mothers curls, dark eyes and an impish grin. "Do not be afraid, Constance. No matter what might happen, I shall be beside you."
"I don't deserve you, Madeleine," her arms shifted to curl around my waist and held me securely, her face burying itself completely so that she became utterly enveloped by the covering, hiding herself away from the daylight as if to escape her misery and problems.
"Nay, 'tis I who does not deserve you, Constance. You have been a true friend, and it is because of your courage and strength I endured the most difficult years of my life. I am only returning what you have given, and I hope as such that our friendship endures a long, prosperous lifetime." Against my neck, I felt her finally smile.
"I like the way you talk, sometimes it is like poetry."
"If I cannot beguile with beauty, I shall dazzle with eloquence." Giggling together, Constance flicked her hand at my arm whilst smiling, scolding me for being dismissive of my looks once again. I took little heed of this, for my looks no longer factored as a concern of mine. I looked healthier than I had in many years, and the bloom of my youth had returned somewhat. I was satisfied with that. Besides, what did beauty matter when I already had so many cherished people who loved me for myself?