Musketeer's Daughter:Unanswered Riddle

Chapter 22: Le Petit Enfant

Of course a lithesome musketeer would be quicker than a lady on silly little shoes, and bending down to remove them was not up for consideration. Though she could abandon them and run faster? Tempting!

"Wait!"

His sudden call elicited a scream from her and she longed to run faster. "Oh, Andrién, I am no stranger to bare feet. Forgive me!" For a quick moment, she stopped, wiggled her toes and rotated her ankle as she kicked her leg. The shoes dislodged. She squeaked with anticipation, for Philippe rounded the corner!

As soon as the other shoe dropped, Ysabeau lifted her skirts a high as she dared, and ran. Where to go? Where to hide? Though there were several doorways here and there, she would not know if they were locked, and she could not afford increasing his chances in catching her.

"Ysabeau, wait!"

His boots moved closer and she soon lost her stamina. "Curse this corset!" It restricted a lungful of air and she grew fainter and fainter. She was a grand fighter, limber and quick and sharp. As a man. But as a lady? Stepping over the stones and winding branches were the easiest, but not in a gigantic gown. To her horror, her toe snared the hem and down she fell. She rolled to a stop and stared at the moon.

Philippe reached her, not out of breath. What good musketeer would be? "You are one fast fille! A true niece of Andrién's, no doubt." He lowered beside her, bent his knees, and rested beside her. His arm touched hers. "Why ever did you flee?" He rolled to his side and shamelessly gazed upon the rise and fall of her chest. Ysabeau rolled her eyes to a close, grateful her wig remained intact. "So you do not want to share my bed this night, that is fine with me. We do not need to tonight. We have a full fortnight ahead of us."

"Oh, Philippe." She moaned. What was she thinking? To outwit the King's personal bodyguard? Ha! She needed to wake up.

"Look." He lifted his hand and held her two shoes. "You seemed to have lost your slippers."

"Yes, I had to."

"Why?"

"To outrun you, of course."

He chuckled, placed them down, and traced the cording on her stomacher.

How unused to such affection! Did he not see that she was not interested? She supposed that all musketeers, celebrities as they were, were unused to such rejection. She pushed far the thought of royal bastards and the King. For now. With a frustrated sigh, she rolled her head the opposite direction and angled her shoulders as best as she could.

"Do you not want me?" His finger stopped above her navel.

"I am unused to such attentions." True, but not to its entirety.

The warmth of his palm seeped through her clothing as he spread his fingers wide, the only heat source considering the dewy grass all around. "I will go according to your pace." His voice was so sweet, enticing, she had to meet his gaze.

"Philippe." She was doomed to the prostrate position; the metal corset which prevented her from bending at the waist, and the paniers from rolling to her side. His attentiveness brought her to a helplessness. No one ever showed such tenderness. No one.

He scooted closer to her so that their shoulders touched and he dropped to his back. "Can you believe, practically since the beginning of time, we believed the earth to be the center of the solar system?" He lifted his naked hand, his glove gone.

"Is it not?" Ysabeau stared at the black heavens dotted with sparkling stars. She had no interest in astronomy. The weight of his glance forced her to meet it. "Oui?"