Chapter 8
Ten minutes after D'Artagnan was home he heard the voices of Monsieur and Madame Bonacieux. The youth slipped silently to the floor and pressed his ear flat to the thin wood slabs.
"I have something of the highest importance to tell you," she started.
"True," her husband remarked. "Tell me of your abduction."
"That is of no consequence now," Mme. Bonacieux said.
"Do you yet realize that I was plunged into the bastille?" Bonacieux stated, hurt by his wife's obvious indifference to his plight.
"The time passes quickly. Let us return to the reason I have returned at such a foul hour."
"Is it not me?" the husband asked, piqued to the quick.
"Yes, of course. But there are other reasons. It is of the highest importance and one which our future rests."
"The complexion of our fortune has changed a great deal since last I saw you, Madame."
"That is true. Particularly if you follow the instructions I am about to give you."
"Me?" the husband said, astonished.
"There is an important action that must be performed of the highest secrecy. And much money may be gained." Mme. Bonacieux knew if she appealed to her husband's weaker side, money, she was more likely to gain his co-operation.
"How much money?"
"Thousands."
"What must I do?"
"You must go to London and deliver a paper I shall give you."
"To London? You jest."
"You must go. An illustrious person sends you to another illustrious person," the wife said.
"More intrigue. Nothing but intrigues. Thank you, Madame, I am aware now of what you speak. Monsieur the Cardinal has enlightened me on that head."
"Have you seen the Cardinal?" the woman asked with quiet fear.
"He sent for me."
"When?"
"Not more than a few hours ago."
"In the Bastille?"
"For certain. Our conversation was of great interest."
"What have you told him?" she asked, now trembling with fear.
"All that he asked," the landlord boasted, displaying a large plump money purse full of coins.
The woman frothed with rage. "You meddle in politics, the Cardinal's politics. You would see your soul to the devil for money!"
"No, to the Cardinal."
"It is the same thing."
"Hold yor tongue, Madame. You may be overheard," the husband warned.
Gaining her wits, the wife turned to a tender voice. "If you depart for London I shall forgive you everything and restore my love to you."
The landlord, struck by his wife's beauty and recollection of their passion hesitated for a moment. For although greedy, he did, in his own way, love his wife. "But London is so far ... and surely the Cardinal will be on the look ... I do not know...."
"You are cowardly and stupid," she blurted, losing her patience. "If you do not do as I ask I shall have the Queen's guards arrest you."
"I shall appeal to his Eminence."
"Perhaps you are right," his wife announced, uncertain of his future course. "I think it best we forget the entire episode."
The landlord sensed his wife's sudden change of mood and said, "I am touched with a terrible headache. I feel the need for some air."
Mme. Bonacieux shot her husband a look which telegraphed the shadow of doom. They were well aware of whose side they would soon take, both on opposite chairs.
"Very well. I must return to the Louvre," Madame remarked.
"Shall I escort you?"
"No, I shall find my way alone."
Bonacieux kissed his wife's hand and set off at a quick pace.
Madame was instantly seized with terror. Her heart raced about her bosom at a fluttering clip. "I have promised my poor Mistress to arrange everything and now she shall take me for one of the spies that are placed about her."
At the pronouncement of these words she hear a rapping on the ceiling which made her head raise and the voice of D'Artagnan said quietly, "Open the little door in the alley and I will come down to you."
The youth slipped through the door and stood before his beloved.
"You have heard everything?" she asked eagerly.
"The whole."
"My God," the woman breathed, totally discomforted.
"What can I do to serve you and the Queen?"
"You are but a boy...." she muttered.
"Is your memory so short?" D'Artagnan asked, deeply hurt by her remark.
"I did not mean in affairs of passion. This ... this is not my secret to reveal."
"You were about to tell your husband of its nature."
Mme. looked at the young man and was restrained by hesitation; but the ardor in his eyes and persuasion in his voice moved her to speak. Besides, she was in a circumstance where everything must be risked for the sake of everything.
"You must swear, before God who hears us, that if you betray me I shall die before you."
"I swear it, my love, for I shall never betray you," the youth proclaimed, overcome with the beauty of her countenance.
"Silence," the woman commanded. "Someone is in the street."
"Your husband. He must not find you here. Quick, up to my room," D'Artagnan whispered, guiding her through the interior door into the passage, ascending the stairs as quietly as possible and entering his chambers.
The two immediately ran to the window and, through a slit in the shutter, saw her husband talking with a man in a cloak.
The pair entered the room and D'Artagnan and the woman fell to the floor to listen.
"She has returned to the Louvre," the landlord sighed with relief. "The news I brought you is of value?"
"Of the most urgent."
"Then the Cardinal will be pleased with me?"
"For certain," the gentleman stated. "You are sure your wife mentioned no names?" The man nodded.
"You must seek your wife and accept this assignment. You must obtain the letter. Can you do this?" the gentleman asked, with a sense of total urgency.
"My wife adores me. There is still time," the landlord confided.
"Ninny!" Madame murmured above.
"Silence," D'Artagnan warned.
"Good, then we must leave. You to the Louvre; I to the Cardinal," the gentleman concluded, leaving the room with Monsieur Bonacieux.
"I must leave for the Palace, instantly," the woman stated.
D'Artagnan stretched his arm out and flattened the woman to the floor. With quick ease he pulled her to him and crushed her against his chest. "Not so fast, my love," he whispered, kissing her passionately upon the lips.
"We have no time for such things," the woman said, struggling to free herself.
"If my blood is to be spilled, then I must have courage."
A gentle smile turned the corners of her mouth and Madame snuggled beneath the strong arms of D'Artagnan. Her succulent breasts heaved and she pushed the magnificent orbs into his chest. The youthful Gascon squeezed the impertinent mounds of pleasure as his cock insinuated itself against the folds of skirt. D'Artagnan reached the hooks of her blouse but the woman protested and instead lifted her skirt above her waist.
The youth busily unhooked his trousers and freed the hardened tool that pounded between his well developed thighs. Instantly he felt her delicate fingers encase it and guide it to her slit.
"Dear lady," D'Artagnan breathed, shuddering as the liquid cluster of flesh encased his shaft. "You are perfection," he swooned, moving back and forth, lubricating and exciting. The lady opened her petal pink lips and lodged the head of his cock within the door. Then, pushing her bottom down in a most lascivious way, inched the board stiff poker inside. The meshing of flesh upon flesh inflamed the youth and he searched her back and drew her tightly to him. Holding her in a vice-like grip, he flexed his bottom and swooned, feeling the first jolting burst of sensation careen his loin.
"Dearest...." she muttered, grinding her breasts into his chest and sucking furiously the walls of her slot. "You're so big and fat. I wish you could remain inside me all day."
Her lining rippled, then squeezed and D'Artagnan felt himself the luckiest of men for having discovered a most lewd, yet beautiful woman.
Pumping his organ very deep, then retreating, the youth worked up a heavy heat and ground his teeth with pleasure in excess of indefinable feelings. Her slot continued to bite and gobble until he felt a heave and a shudder, another sensation as if he was going to expire and caught his breath. Wildly and vigorously he lusted her cod and drew drops with every cut. A hard and convulsive start perpetrated his bottom and he jerked forward, discharging a wad of dew that mixed with hers as both entwined and raptured to a halting conclusion.
"Dearest creature," the youth groaned, still very heated and very much within her weight. "I must continue for I shall soon be on a long journey and without your magnificent bottom."
"Is that only what you desire from me?"
"No, my Lady. But it is a part and one which I love dearly," the young man concluded, pumping joyously within its juicy confines. The woman's legs wrapped about his hips and she rocked to and fro, drawing each inch of pleasure she could take.
D'Aragnan fiddled with her bottom, rode the hairy ridge of her arse and poked into the tight confines of her bunhole. "Dear woman...." he breathed, feeling the rippling her two canals were doing. "You are sending me to paradise." The woman increased the superb workings of her corridors and dripped a copious load about the staff to pay her tribute to such a handsome lover.
"Hurry, darling...." she groaned, now activated with more zest and urgency. "Hurry, darling for you are about to make me die."
The youth secured his saddle and rode at a volatile clip. The woman's bottom lunged up and down, her nails clawed his doublet and she bit wildly into his neck as a thundering downpour of secretion defined her conclusion. D'Artagnan poked her bottom hole with his fingers as his lance continued to indent her walls. He was still riding the crest of a giant wave and suddenly it quivered and spilled over him, taking him beneath its huge frothy billowiness.
"Dearest," the woman panted. "There is no more time to take. When you have concluded this mission I shall stay within yours arms for just as long as you desire but now we must cease or else we shall become fodder for the Cardinal's table."
"You are correct," the blade concluded, withdrawing his staff. "He is in much need of you," the youth remarked, noticing the member had ceased to deflate.
"I must return to the Queen and you must be off with her letter to London" The woman once more paused before continuing. "There you will go directly to the Duke's place and give him this note. He will return to you two of the diamond studs the Queen has given him. D'Artagnan," the woman suddenly said, in the most serious tone, "you must be back within ten days time for the King has commanded the Queen wear her studded cloth at a ball he is giving and if she does not appear with all twelve it will be her head and the Cardinal's victory, for it is the Cardinal who has infected the King's mind with jealousy."
"How did his Eminence learn of the two missing diamonds?"
"He has spies everywhere. Take care, my love. At this moment you hold the future of France within your hands," Madame Bonacieux stated, lifting from the floor and placing in his hands the letter which bore the Queen's seal.
The youth held it to his breast and pronounced, "Upon my life ... it shall be delivered. Expect me ten days from today."
The two parted and D'Artagnan went directly to M. de Treville and asked for a leave of absence. Swearing his mission of the utmost importance, he begged for a ten day pass.
"Sire," the youth confided, "all that I can tell you is that it concerns the Queen and I have reason to believe the Cardinal would stop at nothing to prevent this journey."
The captain reflected for a moment, then asked if the youth planned this campaign alone. D'Artagnan acknowledged this was his strategy and Monsieur the Captain suggested he take with him his most trusted friends, Athos, Porthos and Aramis.
A joyous smile crossed the youth's face and the two men parted with a warm embrace with M. de Treville bidding him a most successful journey.