A/N: kinkmeme prompt fill! Many thanks to the betas of the Beta Branch for helping me whip this into shape!

Part 1: The Husband

Porthos and his comrades had caught Constance mid-baking, covered in flour and up to her elbows in pastry. Since d'Artagnan's departure, they did not often visit Bonacieux's house, though Constance did try to stop by the garrison occasionally. Judging by her broad smile when they appeared on her doorstep, they had been missed. Her pleasure became astonishment, however, when Athos handed her the roll of parchment marked with the Queen's own seal.

"Me?" Constance asked incredulously, re-reading the royal summons with wide eyes, "she, the Queen, wants me?"

Porthos chuckled and reached for a tidbit of pastry, but Constance smacked his hand away. She handed the parchment back to Athos and picked up a large wooden spoon, only to set it down again quickly. She was obviously flustered by their news, but there was a joyful sparkle in her eyes and a pair of colored spots in her cheeks that had been too long absent.

"To work in the palace, yes," Aramis said. Even the faint gloom that had haunted him since the Queen's announcement seemed lightened by Constance's enthusiasm.

"The Queen is in a…delicate position," Athos explained, picking up where Aramis left off. "She has few friends left at court, thanks to the Cardinal."

"She has need of a loyal friend, someone upon whom she could rely absolutely," Aramis added.

"Naturally, we thought of you," Porthos said with a grin.

Constance beamed at him for a moment before her eyes narrowed with amused suspicion. "You, or d'Artagnan?"

Clever, she was. Porthos laughed aloud at that, while Aramis chuckled and Athos graced them with a rare full smile. "Credit where credit's due," Porthos told her. "It was d'Artagnan's idea to recommend you to the Queen."

"Will I see him often at the palace?" she asked eagerly.

"Your duties would be mostly in the Queen's private chambers," Aramis told her. "We Musketeers are not often admitted."

The corner of Porthos' mouth twitched with amusement, and Athos carefully avoided Aramis' eyes. Constance's face fell a little.

"Not often," Aramis reassured her with a smile, "is not never."

Athos cringed at his words, even as Constance brightened again. "As the wife of one of the Cardinal's loyal servants," he said quickly, steering the conversation away from that most dangerous subject, "he could not object to appointing you."

Constance laughed at his less-than-flattering description of Bonacieux but she looked a little apprehensive despite her obvious pleasure. "But I've never been a maid before," she said worriedly. "And I should have to ask my husband."

"Ask me what?" Monsieur Bonacieux said from the doorway, and they all looked up. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the three musketeers gathered around his pretty young wife, though they had deliberately not brought d'Artagnan to avoid causing a real problem. "What are you doing here?" he sneered at them.

Porthos rolled his eyes at Aramis and they stepped protectively closer to Constance. Athos moved forward to confront Bonacieux. He waved the roll of parchment under Bonacieux's nose, making sure that the royal seal was plainly visible.

"We bring a summons from the palace," Athos told him. "The Queen has requested the services of Madame Bonacieux as her new maid."

"Of my wife?" Bonacieux gaped, looking from Athos to Constance and back to Athos. "The Queen herself?"

"She has, monsieur," Athos said evenly, though with a touch of disdain.

"I am unsure I wish my wife to work outside our home," Bonacieux sniffed, and Constance's face fell. But there were wheels turning behind his eyes. Aramis shot Porthos a look, and Porthos stifled a chuckle. Really, this Bonacieux was dense if he thought he was going to get one over on the Cardinal this way.

Athos raised an eyebrow. "Regardless, the Queen has summoned her," he said. He reached up to set his hat back on his head; a signal to leave. "While I am sure that the draper to Cardinal Richelieu must command great favor at court, Her Majesty's wishes are quite clear on this matter."

Bonacieux's eyes widened slightly at the veiled insult. He spluttered, fumbling for a reply, but Constance cut him off before he could devise an appropriate retort. "Really, Jacques," she said shortly. "It is a great honor to serve Her Majesty. Besides, we need the money."

Bonacieux went red with embarrassment and no small amount of anger. His mouth indignantly flapped open and closed like a fish's a few times before he huffed and turned away. It was as close to consent as Constance was going to get. She turned and beamed excitedly at the musketeers.

"It's settled, then," Porthos said with a smile. D'Artagnan was going to be pleased, he was. Perhaps he would mope a little less around the garrison now.

"We'll return in the morning, to escort Madame Bonacieux to the palace," Athos added. They all tipped their hats to Constance, and left the house chuckling at Bonacieux's sour expression.