Playing for Love

Chapter 2: A Pretty Girl

Madeleine wished she could have checked her plan with one of her father's spies, especially milady, but it was also exciting to finally show what she could do. After tonight, she would know what she was capable of, what she would be able to get out of the world that had taken so much from her. She would know more certainly that she wasn't going to end up like that woman.

Like 'Adele', that little iron voice put in.

Madeleine straightened the collar of her dress and strode with greater purpose. She was wearing a simpler dress, a patternless blue that brought out her eyes. Her hair was only a roll on the nape of her neck, her ears felt too light without earrings--that worried her, honestly. Would the musketeer note the holes? Did most women pierce their ears?

The sun was setting as she walked into an apothecary shop and told a story about a sick father, handing over coin and receiving medicine and a kind wish for her father's health. She slipped back outside and heard the door lock behind her, her face turning up to look at the darkening sky. Aramis should be headed toward the tavern soon, if he kept to his usual routine. And if he wasn't, she had plans to bring her that way at least three more times.

Madeleine set off slowly.

She didn't have much respect for her father's man, the one Helene had found for her. She'd caught on to him almost immediately and now had to try very hard not to turn and tell him to back off. Instead, Madeleine feigned obliviousness, hoping no one would tell the musketeer she'd let this man follow her for blocks without looking even the slightest bit nervous.

Madeleine arrived in front of the pub and was waved to by another 'friend'. The woman greeted her cheerfully and informed Madeleine of the lives of a series of random names. The fact that she'd approached was good-it meant that Aramis hadn't walked through yet. But there was only so long... The woman's eyes narrowed.

He'd arrived.

This was the unfortunate bit of the plan: Madeleine hadn't wanted to risk Aramis recognizing her in turn and so did not yet know what he looked like. She forced herself not to look, instead excusing herself and beginning to walk off, checking her bag for the medicine she'd bought earlier.

A large hand reached out and gripped her wrist painfully tight.

Madeleine fought down her instincts to quietly fight the man off, to avoid troubling anyone else. Instead, she let herself cry out in pain.

"Let go of me." She pulled back, disliking this more than she expected. When she met the man's face he looked to be feeling the opposite. Madeleine swallowed hard. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to take a little walk," The man said. He yanked her arm and she stumbled forward, her other hand gripping the strap of her bag as though it could help her in any way. She was going to have no qualms taking this man out if Aramis didn't show up soon. "And shut up."

"Sh--sh--? No! Let me go!" Madeleine set her heels into the ground and began looking around, the desperation on her face no longer an act. Aramis... Aramis, please make this stop. She turned around, looking where she'd left the woman, and finally caught sight of another person, a handsome man in the armor of a musketeer was charging toward them.

Madeleine opened her mouth to call out to him but the man yanked her forward and against a wall, scraping her face on the stone. She let herself crumple to the ground, leaning against the wall as her aching arm reached up to guard her face.

She felt hollow: she could get out of this but she wanted a different life. In a different life, she wouldn't be able to get out of this.

Aramis grabbed the man and shoved him away.

The idiot drew a knife.

Madeleine cried out, furious. If he got arrested, she was done for. Dead. She would never get anything she'd worked for and it wasn't even her fault. She'd done everything she was told! It wasn't fair. And her face hurt.

Madeleine stumbled to her feet, raising her hands, a rushing in her ears.

An arm reached out and barred her way.

"It's alright, mademoiselle. I will take care of this." He watched her-her pale eyes darting across his face, her chest heaving, blood running down her cheek-until she gave a tiny nod. He drew his sword and turned his full attention on the man. "I told you to stand down."

The man charged forward.

Aramis sighed.

It was the work of moments for the musketeer to dodge a few knife swings, shove the man back, and then for his sword to plunge into the man's chest as the man charged at him one last time.

Madeleine stared as the sword was pulled from the body and Aramis quickly wiped it clean. The man raised a hand to his chest and then fell limp, eyes going unfocused. Then Aramis was in front of her, dark eyes and manicured mustache far too close as he gently lifted her chin. He was looking at the scrape with concern.

"You'll want to put a salve on that. I might have one on me but..." He pulled back and lifted her hand. "How's your wrist feel?"

"I'm... I'm alright."

No! No, she wasn't alright! She needed to stall!

Madeleine squeezed her eyes shut in frustration and immediately Aramis' hands were under her elbows, holding her up.

"You've had a shock. Why don't we get you inside?"

She looked up through her eyelashes, giving her best innocent look.

"I couldn't possibly impose on you further, monsieur... monsieur...?"

He smiled. "Aramis."

"Ah." She said, faking recognition. The relief was making her lightheaded. "Well, thank you so much for saving me, Monsieur Aramis."

Aramis reached for the hand that had been gripping her bag, raising it to his lips. "Aramis." He repeated when he lifted his eyes to hers.

Madeleine felt her cheeks heat up and let a smile curl slowly across her face. "Aramis." She agreed. Her eyes darted beyond him to the body and her face fell. "What about him?"

Aramis let her hand drop and turned to study the man, resting a hand on his sword. "I'll have to report it. Not the best way to end an encounter but your statement should help with that." He flashed her a grin again.

She pushed down her own grin of triumph (a reason to see him again!) and nodded. "Do I... does it have to be tonight? I understand if it does only... Only I..." She clutched at the bag, daring him to ask and make the walk to the apothecary worth it.

He didn't ask. "I understand. But surely you can wait til I send for a friend to walk you home?"

Madeleine considered, eyes going from the still face of her attacker to the dark streets that awaited her. In reality, she had no qualms about the walk or about leaving him wanting. It was hard to tear herself away from asking him a million questions.

"Alright, mademoiselle," Aramis said and Madeleine realized she'd started shaking her head. "Then may I have your name? And a promise that you'll find me in the morning?"

"Oh! My name is Madeleine."

"Mademoiselle Madeleine?" He teased.

"You can... J-just Madeleine." She managed, stumbling backward before he could try to change her mind. She began to stride away, calling over her shoulder. "I... I will find you tomorrow."

"Not going to ask me where to find me?" He called back, laughing.

"How much trouble can it possibly be?" She walked backward a moment, managing to give him a smile. "To find the most infamous of the musketeers?"

"Oh?" He took a few steps after her, keeping her in sight. "And what tales have you heard?"

"I suppose you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out." Madeleine shot back.

His laugh followed her around the corner.