Musketeer's Daughter:Unanswered Riddle

Chapter 38: Rope

Philippe rose, his hat in his hands, eyes scanning every bit of her as she descended the steps like the Queen herself. Head high, hands at her waist as she glided down upon dainty feet. Ha! She learned quick. Marguerite beside her.

"You, enfant, need to learn your place and do as you are told."

Philippe turned his head to the side, his face hardening.

"I stayed in my chambers as you desired, though you did not speak it. I have donned a courtier's gown as you have so wished it. I have joined ma mère to meet you here. All these things you desire of me, am I not correct?" Though he had not said as much, she was pleased to have found a way to circumvent his reprimand. How she longed to challenge him to a duel. Perhaps snip the ridiculous point of a chin hair he calls a partial classy?

Though fury glazed his eyes, a little grin creased his face. "You may sit if you so wish, that is, if Philippe does not object? We were having a gentleman's conversation, one in which ladies would faint if heard."

"You have nothing to worry about, Andrién." Ysabeau glanced about the room and then back at him. "There are no ladies present."

Marguerite hissed and Andrién scowled. "I will have no more of that, Ysabeau. I—"

"Very well, I shall take my leave so you may discuss my wedding plans with my fiancé. Good night." Oh! If only her mère had not interrupted, she would have loved to hear the quarrel to its conclusion.

"Wait." Ysabeau raised a brow and turned to face Philippe. "You wish to wed me?" Her face crept hot and she refused to lower her gaze in humiliation. Rather, she lifted her chin and met his gaze perfectly.

"Why ever not? If Andrién could marry and have children so happily—seeing that he is part of the King's favorite—why not you?" She turned pointedly to Andrién, glad to leave Marguerite from the scenario since she was never wedded to him. "And," she tilted her head with a touch of demure flirtation, "we could have a sparring match every night. I am quite sure you will not mind me using a sword."

Marguerite gasped and Andrién growled. "That is enough, Ysabeau."

She clamped her lips shut and quaked. Ysabeau was hardly a child—there were ladies younger than she at court with their gentlemen husbands. Why could she not be one of those? Oh, she had no intention of remaining past Mathieu's funeral. "I swear it, dear frère, I will free your blood."

Philippe's gaze snapped upward to her, but Andrién talked with Marguerite. Several moments passed as each held the other's gaze until Andrién took notice. Marguerite soon joined. Every soul stared at Ysabeau and she shifted.

"Now that I have everyone's attention. Why the grand secrecy? Why is someone trying to kill us? What have I done to deserve such? I was never part of the court as Marguerite was." Her lip curled with disdain as she glared at the femme.

"Ysabeau," Andrién warned.

"Tell her, Andrién. She deserves to know the entire truth." Phillip's voice felt soothing to her broken spirit.