The Queens Maid Ch. 02

Story Info
Tales from the French Court.
3.2k words
4.32
11.4k
00

Part 2 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 09/14/2011
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
Lucreace
Lucreace
59 Followers

The next few days followed a similar pattern, although I didn't see my new friend again, nor did I drink much wine. When I thought back on my behaviour, I was mortified. I didn't dare tell anyone about the encounter and no one seemed to notice my indiscretion either. I had to deliver many more notes and letters for the Queen and I began to know my way around better too. My face was becoming more familiar and these little excursions seemed to take a little longer each time. I'd made more friends and it was always a delight to see them while I was running errands.

Lorraine was usually out at the same time as I it seemed and we always stopped for a hushed conversation when our paths crossed. She was maid to Duchess Chevreuse, best friend of Anne so we often shared whispers of conversations they'd had. They were always up to something those two and it was good to share tidings with each other. An early warning was a welcome thing, especially where trouble was concerned. What went ill for our mistresses usually went ill for the maids as well.

The days flickered by and I remained the messenger, fetching and bringing the mail for the Queen. I was no closer to achieving my goal of making a good match during my service. I've had vague interests but the poor maid from Rouen was overlooked in favour for her richer companions. I didn't mind, I had begun to enjoy my new found freedom, something I never experienced at home. It was nice not having my father watching my every move.

One afternoon, the Queen decided to take a walk in the grounds with her ladies. The chance to get outside was welcome as we'd just had a spate of bad weather. The sun was warm and we retired to the secluded gardens. The servants brought us tea and after we'd dined, we pulled out our needlework and set to talking about everything.

"Constance." Anne said turning to me, "Can I entrust you to take this order?"

"As always Majesty, to whom shall I deliver it?" I ask putting aside my work.

"The post master." She replied handing me a letter. This one is sealed and stamped so it must be an important one. I give a curtsy and hurry on to the office. I deposit the letter, leaving it in the hands of Roaul, the post master's assistant and turn away, back to the glorious sunshine.

I'm half way back when I'm accosted by a man I don't recognise. "Mademoiselle Bonacieux." He asks. I nod, "Please, come with me." He said, there are a couple of armed men with him and the blood drains from my face.

"Why?" I ask with a frown, "The Queen is expecting my return any moment."

"Never mind the Queen, you have to come with us now." He said again, this time taking my arm and pulling me towards the door. The armed guards fall in behind me and his claw like grip on my arm digs into my flesh. I should make some kind of noise but my throat is so dry only a hoarse croak comes out. A carriage is waiting for us just outside and I feel my legs tremble, my head spins round and as I'm piled into the carriage the world goes black.

* * *

When I come to, I'm not sure where I am, I'm lying on a bed in a dark room. There's a curtained window so it must be night time. The walls are covered in flaking white paint from what I can see, which is little, seeing how there is no candle in the room. I rise from the bed and feel my way to the door, a quick test of the handle tells me it's locked. Damn. I bang on the door with my fist but no one answers. I return to the bed and lay back down. I stifle the rising lump in my throat and turn to face the wall. I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from crying. Anne will come find me. She will. I tell myself. I've been a friend to her these past few weeks. She'll know what to do.

I awoke again after the sun rose, the light filtered through the gap in the curtains onto my face. The room looks worse by day than it did by night. The paint is clinging to the walls as best it can but the damp has interfered with that battle. I get up and walk around the room, if only to stretch my aching limbs. I knock on my door again but no one answers. They can't leave me in here forever can they? I go to the window and throw open the curtains. I don't recognise the area of town we're in, if we're even in Paris anymore. I sit back down on the bed with a sigh; I can't sleep anymore so I content myself with staring at the ceiling. I wonder what they want with me, what they'll do to me. They must want information on the Queen, which I will not betray. She has many enemies at court and the gossip of a little maid would be useful.

I go off into a daze while I stare at the ceiling; I'm not sure how long it's been when my door finally opens. A strange man enters my room and I sit up. "Mademoiselle Bonacieux, you will come with me." I follow the man in silence, wishing I had a knife on me so I could stab him and run away. I glare at the back of his head instead and he ushers me into another room. This one has a chair in the middle of it, a desk with another chair behind it in front of the chair and a candle sconce on the wall. I was to be interrogated it seemed. "Please, sit." He said. I did as I was told and he left me in the room alone.

Moments later, the door opened again and in stepped Cardinal Richelieu. I have only seen the man before in passing, up close, he is even scarier. He walked behind the desk and glared at me. "Do you know why you have been brought here?" he asked settling into his seat and leaning over. I shake my head and my knees begin to tremble. Be Strong I tell myself. "You're favoured by her Majesty Queen Anne and deliver her letters for her, is this correct." I open my mouth to speak but only a small squeak comes out. I nod my head instead.

The Cardinal leans back in his chair and sighs, "What can you tell me about those letters?" he asks. I open my mouth to speak but my wayward voice refuses to respond. A quick cough clears my throat.

"I am not privy to the contents of her letters your eminence. I take them to the post master and leave again." I say, trying to keep my voice calm. His brow narrows and he leans forward on the desk. I try to swallow but my throat is too dry.

"You do not see who the letters are addressed to?"

"I am asked to deliver the notes, not to read the front or back." I reply, "Her majesty does not tell me who she writes to and I do not pry into her affairs."

"Are all the maids as discreet as you?"

"We would be of no use to Her Majesty if we told her every secret to everyone who asked." I replied, I know it was rude but it was the truth. He seems to ponder my glib response before opening his mouth again.

"What do you know about a plot against His Majesty's most trusted advisor?"

"I've heard nothing."

"To lie on such a count and be caught would be seen as high treason." He said. That would mean execution. I swallow again and look him straight in the eyes.

"I know of no plot." I repeat. "May death come on swift feet to the enemies of the King." I add. He nods and rises from the chair. "What will become of me?" I ask as he approaches the door.

"That waits to be seen." He says before leaving. Moments later the same guard who brought me in here collects me and returns me to the other room. He locks me in and I'm once again left on my own. There is a plate of food on a small table and a jug of cool water. I take a long drink from the glass and pick up the bread roll. How long have I been gone now? I hope to God that someone has noticed my absence and someone is coming for me. I cross to the window and try to open it but the glass has been sealed in somehow. There is no way to open it from this side. If I had a knife, maybe I could force it open. Once again I realise how handy it would be to carry one. I should ask her Majesty if I can do so when I get back. Or even better, a sword. A sword would be more useful than a knife in a situation like this.

I lay back down on the bed, there was nothing else to do but lay there and try not to think too much. I must have slept some because when I open my eyes again it's dark. There's noises coming from outside the window, I spring from the bed and to the sill. I can't see much outside but I can hear raised voices. The sound of something made of glass shattering pierces the window and I look about, straining to see something. I tap on the window but get no response. Nothing appears in the gloom and the sounds recede so I return to the bed.

The thump of boots approaches my door followed by a harsh thud. Another thud and the door splinters, one more and it flies off the frame. Light floods into the room and the silhouetted outline of one of the King's guard fills the room. "Are you here to save me?" I ask.

"Of course."

"D'Artagnan?" I say, I think it's his voice.

"Yes Mademoiselle. Are you hurt?"

"No." A hollow pit forms in my stomach and I find my legs are suddenly trembling. I place a hand on the bed frame to steady myself and try my best to hide my weakness.

"But you're close to fainting." He said striding into the room and taking my arm. His hands are strong and I feel better for having him close to me. I am to be liberated! "Sit a moment." He guides me down to the bed before running to the door. "I have her." He calls down the corridor. More boots approach the door and one of his companions appears.

"Wait here." He said, "I'll fetch the carriage and we're away!" he scarpers off leaving me alone with D'Artagnan.

"You came for me." I said. "Did Her Majesty send you?"

"I saw you ushered into a carriage the other day as I was returning to Paris from a mission. I had intended to call upon you that evening so went to the Queen immediately. Her Majesty said she had only sent you on an errand and was expecting your imminent return. When I related what I'd seen, a search was ordered and here we are." He explained.

"Thank God you saw me." I said, my voice catching in my throat. He sits beside me on the bed and puts an arm around my shoulder. I lean against him and breathe in his scent, a sort of spicy smell, all adventure and sunshine, with traces of salt air too. I cannot help wonder where he picked it up from. I don't care. I'm safe so long as he is close by. His soft curling hair brushes against my cheek and I can't stop my hand from touching those dark locks. It's like touching fresh spun silk. His gloved hand pushes my own hair back and he smiles down at me. I tremble under his touch and flick my eyes to the door.

"You have nothing to fear my dear Connie." He whispers leaning close to talk to me.

"Let's go!" cried a voice from the corridor.

"Mordieux! Porthos has such timing as always. We're away my lady." He said arising and pulling me up with him.

"D'Artagnan."

"Lady?"

"Please, lend me your knife." He gives me a frown at my request. "I have spent these hours of captivity longing for a blade. Should something happen I would have something to defend myself with." I explain. He nods and hands me a dirk.

"Nothing will happen to you. That I promise." He said.

"All the same." I said with the ghost of a smile. We leave the room and rush down the corridor and down a flight of steps. I follow, keeping the knife in my hand. Porthos follows behind me. A guard dressed in a black uniform turns his head and draws his sword at the sight of us. D'Artagnan is quicker by far and charges first. I hear their weapons clanging together and a sharp cry. Moments later we're passing the unconscious man and tumbling down some stairs into the street. There's a carriage waiting as promised and we're swept into it and away from that awful place. Once sat down, my legs begin to shake and unwanted tears flow down my face. D'Artagnan places a hand on my shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze.

"You're safe now." He said. "You have nothing to fear anymore."

"I know." I sob, my voice breaks and I bury my face in my hands. I let a couple of deep sobs shake through me and the knife I'd been clutching clattered on the bottom of the carriage. I look up, straight into his handsome face. He passes me a handkerchief and I wipe my tears away and give a weak smile. "I'm sorry."

"Dear sweet Connie. Put these awful events behind you! You'll feel better when you're restored to your own apartments." He said taking my hand in his. "I hope too, that you will do me the honour of allowing me to call upon you."

"I'd like that very much." He gives me one of those dashing smiles of his before he leans out the carriage window. A few words are exchanged between him and the driver before he turned back to me.

"We're here." He said as the carriage clattered to a halt. He threw the door open and jumped out before offering me a hand in climbing down. I was so glad to be back on familiar ground again, the sight of the palace made my breath catch in my throat and I thought I might weep again. "Would you like me to escort you back?"

"If it's not too much trouble." He bats off my response with the wave of his arm and takes me by the hand. The palace is quiet at this time of night and in a few heartbeats we are at my apartment. I open my door before turning to face my rescuer. "I can't thank you enough for your action today." I said. My face colours as I speak and he catches my hand in his once again. The gloves he wears are so soft to touch; I clasp them in my hands and stroke his fingers with my own. It's like new-born kitten fur. I bet the inside of the glove is just as divine. I can't help but wonder what D'Artagnan's hands would feel like touching my own like this without the glove in the way. I colour at the thought and pull my hand back. Such thoughts are not appropriate for people who have just met, yet I can't help my wondering mind.

He places his hands on my shoulders and smiles down at me, "Where do your thoughts take you when you have such an expression on your face?" he asks. I flush a scarlet colour which I know will give me away, "Such a becoming colour fills your cheeks dear Connie." He pulls me forward then, pressing me against his hard chest. I push my arms out from under his cloak, returning his embrace. My legs begin to tremble, I've never been held this way by any one before. My stomach turns hollow inside and my poor heart is pounding so loud. "Connie, why do you shake so? Do you fear I would harm you?"

"No. I know you wouldn't do that, not after rescuing me." I said looking up at him. His gloved hand brushes against my cheek and he looks at me in a way I don't quite understand. There's a fire in those blue eyes as he leans forward. The scent of him washes over me, the soft mint of his breath mingled with the smell of danger. His eyes search mine for a second and my knees start shaking again. His lips brush mine and a gasp escapes me. My heart stops beating when his tongue touches my lips. I grip his arms as I melt into him, my lips part on their own accord and I touch his tongue with my own. His hand pushes through my hair and rest on the back of my neck. I lean into his support and he deepens the kiss. The taste of him is like nothing I have ever tasted before, a divine mingling of spice, mint and something I can't place. I don't want to let him go.

A cough breaks the kiss and we both look round down the corridor. Blood rushes to my face, we've been observed in what should be a private moment. "Aramis!" D'Artagnan said, his voice thick. He released me from his arms and I shift away from him and content myself with looking at the floor.

"Don't mean to intrude but you're needed. Monsieur Treville has sent out a roll-call and we're already late." He explained, the look on his face is so apologetic I can't help but forgive him. D'Artagnan nods.

"I have to go." He said turning to me. I nod, not trusting my voice to speak just yet. "I'll call on you soon."

"I'd like that." I said. He took my hand and kissed it.

"I promise." He added before he turned and walked away with his friend. I turn into my room and shut the door behind me. I can still feel the brush of his moustache on my lips where he'd kissed me. The taste of him was still on my lips too, which began to tingle when I thought of him. I undressed and lay on my bed for a moment, letting my heart calm itself down before shutting my eyes. I fell into a restful sleep, my dreams coloured by the blue uniform of my admirer.

Lucreace
Lucreace
59 Followers
Please rate this story
The author would appreciate your feedback.
  • COMMENTS
Anonymous
Our Comments Policy is available in the Lit FAQ
Post as:
Anonymous
Share this Story

READ MORE OF THIS SERIES

Similar Stories

The Sweetest Fling Ch. 01 Meg spots an attractive stranger while holidaying alone.in Erotic Couplings
What I Want A message to his lover from across the miles.in Letters & Transcripts
Forbidden Lovers Luc and Jessamine become lovers in historical Paris.in Erotic Couplings
A Special Kind of Love Ch. 01 She decides to show her virgin boyfriend a good time.in Romance
Office Shock Unsuspecting Lesbian Love.in Lesbian Sex
More Stories