Part 7

To have her in my arms once again was better than any memory or dream, such as I had used to comfort myself in my lonely bed in the garrison. Her skin was as silk, my hands gliding over her, curving her, willing her to match me. And she did, with no hesitation, as if she herself had suffered from the same longing that I had. I needed no words, her permission was implicit as I brought myself to her, entering her, dancing within her, stealing her breaths with my mouth as we moved.

I moved slowly at first, drawing out every building sensation, committing every shock, shudder and sigh to memory. But as my tensions built, so did my vigor, as, God love her, she encouraged every desire. She was so beautiful to me, with ruby lips, the sheen of our lovemaking upon her skin, her eyes liquid, but this time, not with tears, at least not tears of pain and sorrow. I prayed I would never see such a thing in her eyes ever again. Lost in her, I felt her left hand suddenly clutch around my shoulders as she pulled her chest to mine, tensed, and softened as I caught her and held her, and gave myself to her as honestly as I was able.

I cradled her carefully against me, minding her arm, but desperate to cling to her for as long as I could, as hard as I could. Feeling her head laid against my chest, and her soft breaths against my skin put me in mind of nothing but that moment. And we allowed ourselves to rest in that place for a good long time, doing nothing but brushing fingertips and lips gently.

But I had to break the spell.

"Marie?"

Her sigh was endearing, as she curled herself further against me.

"You must go, mustn't you?"

"Soon I think. But there is something I must ask you, and I am afraid to do it."

"You? Afraid? A Musketeer? Is the question so dire?"

"I never want to say anything that could hurt you."

"And now you have me frightened Aramis."

"It is in regards to Athos."

I felt her body freeze against mine, loving fingers locked still against my chest, and an indrawn breath that filled me with instant regret.

"You should just say it then Aramis."

"He is devastated by his actions. The regret controls his every action. He is disconsolate, and seeks only your leave to offer a proper apology, and to beg your forgiveness."

She said nothing, only stared at me with her wide brown eyes, pleading, it seemed.

"He will come here, at any time you should command him."

"No."

I had not expected that answer, though perhaps I should have.

"I will not have him here Aramis."

"I understand."

"He is your friend?"

"He has saved my life more times than I can remember. What happened, what he did to you, it tested that friendship dearly. But I have to believe that it was an aberration in an exemplary character."

"I will come to your garrison then. I will listen to him there. If we are overheard there I trust it will go no further; Musketeers are not so prone to gossip I presume."

"Thank you Marie."

"I cannot promise that my words to him will ease his pain, just as his words to me will not heal mine."

She rolled away from me, I dared to reach out for her, resting my hand against her back. I could feel her trembling and I hated myself for keeping my promise to Athos. At least she did not pull away at my touch that gave me some hope that I had not ruined any trust she had in me.

"You will be there, at the garrison, when I come to hear him?" Her voice was hesitant.

"I promise."

"I do this for you Aramis."

"I know."

"I need a few moments please, could you, could you give me that?"

I leaned towards her and brushed my lips along her shoulder.

"Anything my Comatose."

I found my way back to the library easily enough; trying not to think about the woman I had left behind, who was most surely crying now. Crying because of me. The warm greeting I received as I stepped into the room made me feel ill at ease.

James had a half full glass of brandy in his hand, if I was any judge of the colored liquid. He had been sitting near the fire, but stood as I entered.

"Ah good, Marie has tired of you and you have come to play chess!"

"I don't know if there is time to play a proper game, not if I am to ride for the city before dark."

"Humor me Aramis, and at least start a game with me."

How could I refuse?

The beginnings of our game and conversation were wholly normal. The pieces were set, the drinks poured (or in James' case, refilled), and the fire warming the expanse of the library. It seemed so foreign to me, being in such a room, treated, it seemed, as an equal to the man before me, a landowner, wealthy, in the confidence of the king, every inch noble; even without a title. He enquired as to my military experience, regaling in the tales of muck and adventure. I felt my apprehension beginning to wane. Perhaps that was a mistake?

"As a Musketeer, your reputation for honour and loyalty precede you." He raised his glass to me, and I did the same, the game somewhat left behind.

"I thank you for that sir."

"Then why is it, I wonder, why you and my sister are hiding something from me?"

I froze, my mouth suddenly dry. I had no idea how to respond, how to defend her, and our actions. Afraid, just then, that he was not perhaps, the gentle man Marie had painted him to be, but in fact had designs on her title and suitability to remarry.

He threw back the rest of the brandy in his glass, as he stood, turning away from me as he spoke.

"Do you think me a fool?"

"No sir, of course not." Any thoughts of familiarity were banished. I waited for his angry outburst, admonishing me for the intimacy I had taken with his sister.

"My sister," he began, "has ridden horses since almost before she could walk."

I was confused, was he attempting some sort of metaphor, hoping to belittle me?

"There is no possible way that she broke her wrist holding onto the reigns of a horse."

For a brief moment the compression across my chest abated.

"So tell me who broke it."

"Sir, I'm sorry."

"Was it you?"

"No sir, I swear, it was not I. I would never harm her."

"Then one of your companions? Someone has hurt my sister and I intend to discover who it was."

"This is," I stuttered, "perhaps a better conversation to have with your sister."

"What is a better conversation to have with me?"

I thanked God that Marie chose that moment to join us.

"Forgive me sister, but I need to know the truth of what happened to your arm."

She looked at me, my blank look likely betraying the truth that I had not answered James' interrogation.

"It is as I have said to you darling brother, the fault was mine, an accident and nothing sinister." She crossed to him and took up his hand in her free one, squeezing it. "Thank you for your concern. You have always protected me James, and I love you for it."

"The thought of any harm coming to you Marie,"

"I know." She let herself be drawn into his great chest. "I am blessed to have you, and to have found such a friend as I have in Aramis as well. I feel as if nothing in the whole world could harm me now, not with you two at my side."

He looked at me, over her head, trying to determine, I think, if I was to be trusted. I did not blame him, because I was lying to him, as was she, and I imagine he knew that. I would be complicit in the deception because she had asked it of me, but it still made me feel uneasy to look her brother in the eye and understand that.

"I should be on my way I think." I said quietly. "I will lose the light soon, and I fear I may have already overstayed my welcome here."

James seemed hesitant to respond to me, but Marie was not.

"You will always be welcome here Aramis." She smiled at me and then up at her brother with a reassuring softness in her cheeks and her eyes.

"If you make my beloved sister this happy Aramis, then I must agree that you will always be welcome. But I expect, as her brother, that you will never dishonor her, or I swear that you will certainly regret the decision."

"James!"

"Marie, please, I understand your brother, and I make the promise to him, and to you, that I shall never allow harm to come to you, from myself, or from anyone else."