Sorry it's been so long since I updated. School was crazy this week. I love college, but seriously...Friday exams are the worst. Anyway, you'd think I'd be used to that by now. So here is an extra long chapter to make up for it! read and review :)

Chapter Four

Juliana reveled in her freedom and the spontaneity around her. She hadn’t thought it was going to be that easy to get away from D’Artagnan. But then, he had probably seen how occupied his friends were with her and felt she was safe.

She didn’t care if she was safe. She’d lived under a tyrannical husband for too many years. She was a grown woman she was going to do what she wanted with her life.

She passed of group of men, obviously young courtiers in their finery, who hollered and motioned her over. She smiled seductively at them and shook her head with a small smile. The rest of the group pushed a man forward and towards her. He was probably no more than eighteen and blushing profusely.

“Good evening mademoiselle,” he said quietly, fighting his nervousness to smile.

“Good evening sir,” she curtsied lightly and awaited his intentions trying not to laugh.

“If I-If I could trouble you, good lady,” she watched as he tried to assure himself and moved forward to take her hand. Finally he looked at her determinedly, “I would trouble the lady for a kiss. You see I’ve not had a proper one in my short seventeen years, and I am exceedingly tired of the ridicule of my friends.”

Juliana raised a brow and glanced back at the group of guffawing buffoons behind him, “It would seem, my friend, that you are the best of the lot anyway and should continue living life the way you choose.”

“Wait,” he held tightly to her hand when she made to go. “Please, whether you are lady or wench, you are a beautiful woman and tonight, we are all fools. So please, I beg of you while I still have the courage to make a fool of myself, let me steal a kiss.”

Juliana smiled and he seemed to visibly relax, “Alright, good sir. You have my permission.”

Moving forward he took her awkwardly into his arms.

She sighed, poor boy was so shy.

“Don’t be afraid of women,” she whispered and firmly corrected his grip so that he had his arm placed firmly around her waist. “And don’t be afraid of a silly little kiss.”

With that she leaned it and kissed him gently, lingering on his lips and brushing her tongue quickly across his bottom lip. He tasted sweetly of ale, but not of pipe smoke as so many boys had when she lived at home. She murmured appreciatively against him lips for good measure, and felt his arm tighten slightly pulling her closer to him.

She enjoyed herself a moment longer and pulled away, satisfied that the boy wouldn’t forget his first kiss. She tried not to laugh at the dazed and lusty look on his face but couldn’t contain a smile.

“You are a natural, my lord. I’m sure your practiced friends could not have loved me half so well.”

He was recovering slightly and had opened his mouth to ask her a question when she suddenly heard a hurried and whispered conversation behind her.

“That’s right, he’s going to kill the Musketeer tonight. That’s where I’m headed right now. The damned fool found out about the assassination plot somehow and was blabbing to half the town this evening in his drunken stupor.”

Juliana turned cautiously to the side and glanced at the two men. They were hidden within dark cloaks and seemingly oblivious to the crowd they had just entered into from the nearby tavern. They had put too much trust in humanity being too occupied with themselves, their women, and their wine to give them much notice.

Her heart had skipped a beat and she felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck. A plot of assassination, and they were killing a Musketeer that had overheard. Those were dangerous statements. She thought desperately of D’Artagnan and his friends lost somewhere in the crowd around her, but realized that these men would be gone and lost before she was ever able to find her brother.

As the two men beside her began moving away, she made the abrupt decision to follow them. Deaf to the cries of the young man asking her her name, she moved closer to the tavern and pressed herself into the shadows to watch uninhibited as the men slowly made their way through the crowds and to the alley to her right.

A wisp of conversation reached her ears just as they turned into the shadowed passage, “…who knows how long his majesty will reign…”

Juliana suddenly felt as though her veins had turned to ice. Was it possible? So soon? D’Artagnan and his fellow Musketeers had just turned over a plot to kill the King. What man possessed of any shred of sanity would consider such a thing?

She waited until she could no longer see their shadows and looked quickly about. Absolutely no one was paying her any attention, and so she slipped unnoticed into the alley after the two cloaked men; at least she had thought.

She caught sight of their shadows just as they rounded the corner at the end of the alley and disappeared. Fearing she would lose them, she hurried as silently as possible to the corner, cursing herself for the jingling bracelets at her ankles and wrists.

She peered cautiously around the corner and saw nothing. The passage before her was empty and dark. Taking a moment to remove her jewelry, she left it on the floor of the alley and hastened around the corner into the dark. They couldn’t have gone far, and as far as she could tell there wasn’t another alley leading back toward the main road for a whole other block. They had to be around somewhere.

She stifled her cry when a cat hissed at her from beneath a doorstep. It’s yellow eyes glared meanly at her as she hurried past shaking her head at her edginess. How had they disappeared so quickly? They couldn’t have gotten far.

Suddenly she froze, as she heard male voices almost directly to her right. She took a step forward and realized there was a small entrance to the back entrance of one of the buildings on the main road. If she hadn’t heard their voices, she never would have known it was there. She silently ducked through the entrance and glued herself to the wall so she could listen unseen.

“So you thought you were smart telling everyone they you had singlehandedly uncovered a plot to kill the King, hmm? Well, I’ve met more intelligent Musketeers in my time, or at least, ones who hold their liquor a touch better.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Juliana presumed this to be the Musketeer. “Kill me, if that’s what you intend. Just get it over with.”

“Being courageous won’t make up for your stupidity,” another man growled, his voice different from the original she had heard.

“Who have you told besides the drunken sods we found you with?”

Frustrated, Juliana moved closer. If she could just get a glimpse of the men she was positive she’d be able to identify them again and she’d run for D’Artagnan.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“That depends on how cooperative you’re going to be. Now, who did you tell about our little plans for the King. Because surely, if you’ve ruined the plan to kill him while he’s in Venice, I won’t kill you…”

The man’s voice had suddenly become dangerously soft. “I’ll torture you until you beg me to take your life.”

She heard a heavy thud and very obviously reasoned that the Musketeer had been struck.

“Out with it! I can do this all night.”

Gathering her courage, Juliana took the last two steps forward and slowly glanced around the corner. There were three men standing in a half circle around a man on the ground. The man on the ground was bleeding liberally from the mouth and the man to his right was wiping his knuckles clean. She was slightly relieved that she didn’t recognize the Musketeer but the man standing directly in front of him, had her throat closing in fear.

She’d seen him only once before. His eyes were a poisonous green and set into heavy yet handsome features. He had been a student of the Cardinal when she was just a girl. He had spoken to her the last and only time they had met.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing,” she had been too young then to know what the lust and sin in his eyes could have meant for her. “What are you doing playing all alone in the courtyard. Are you one of the King’s cousins?”

“No sir,” she answered solemnly looking up mesmerized into his too green eyes. “My papa is a Musketeer. I am waiting for him and my brother to return from the market.”

“Tsk, tsk,” he kneeled down to bring his face level with hers. “Your father is too secure leaving his pretty young fille all alone. These are dangerous times.”

“But I’m not alone,” she had instantly demanded. “One of the Queen’s ladies has been with me. Only just now did she go to get my doll. The sun hasn’t been out in days, and I wished to play in it.”

He smiled at her and she naively missed the wicked glint in his eye. He reached a pale hand forward and tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, “Such a beauty. I could just eat you up.”

Juliana laughed uneasily, her young mind not understanding why she was bothered by the touch of his flesh.

“What is your name?”

“Juliana,” she whispered, suddenly unsure of the young man in front of her.

“Well Juliana, perhaps you would like to come play with me instead of with a silly little doll. You’re a big girl, and dolls aren’t for big girls.”

Juliana hesitated when he stretched out his hand to her, “My papa said to stay here with Clarice. He would be so angry if I disobeyed him.”

“Do not worry, ma petite,” he answered and took a tight hold on her hand. “You are safe with me, your father will understand.”

Juliana tugged on her hand but he refused to let go, “Please Monsieur. I cannot, papa frightens me when he’s angry.”

She watched his kindly face transform before her eyes and recoiled in fear, “You will come with me, Juliana. If you don’t I shall give you something infinitely worse to fear.”

He dragged her forward and she cried out in pain.

He pulled her up by the arms and shook her fiercely, “And you will be silent, or your punishment will be that much worse.”

Tears had started streaming down her eyes but to his surprise there was furious rage growing behind those tears instead of fear, “Let me go. Please, let me go. I don’t want to go with you.”

He sneered, “You are going to be most entertaining.”

Even as a little girl, Juliana’s instincts were true. She pulled back as hard as she could and kicked him hard in the stomach. His eyes popped open in surprise and he let her go with a grunt of pain.

“You little wench,” he choked. “I’ll kill you.”

Scrambling to her feet, she got to her feet and ran as fast as she could towards the castle. Feeling as though it was life or death that she reach the courtyard doorway, she pushed her small legs as hard as she could and nearly knocked Clarice over when they collided at her destination.

“Juliana! Whatever is the matter?”

Juliana suddenly felt very overwhelmed and looked up at the Queen’s handmaiden with round and frightened eyes, “There’s a man that wanted to take me away.”

“A man?” Clarice frowned and looked beyond the little girl and into the courtyard. It was empty. “But what games are you playing, ma petite?”

“Don’t call me that!” Juliana cried suddenly. “He called me that just now. Clarice, he put his hands on me and told me he was going to kill me.”

“Hush, bebe,” Clarice knelt and took the shaking girl into her arms. She frowned in concern; who within the castle walls would scare a child so? “What did he look like, Jule?”

Juliana pulled back to look at Clarice as if to make sure she understood everything that came out of her mouth, “He was tall like papa, but thin and very pale. He had horrible green eyes that scared me. They were too green, Clarice.”

“Laurent?” she asked in surprise and the lady in waiting frowned. The child had just described Cardinal Richelieu’s best student, Laurent Dubois. How was that possible? He was a man of faith.

In her narrow-mindedness, Clarice reasoned with herself. The man had obviously been trying to help the child and she had a fear of strangers.

Gathering the girl close Clarice did her best to comfort her, “It is alright, darling. I’m sure he was just trying to be helpful.”

Juliana violently shook her head and buried her face in Clarice’s neck. The handmaiden couldn’t understand, she hadn’t seen the violence in those green eyes as he had promised to kill her.

Laurent Dubois had possibly been as twisted or more so than the Cardinal himself. That was why he had been the Cardinal’s prized student. They thought so much alike.

But the Cardinal had been overthrown and locked away, what did Laurent think he could possibly accomplish with everyone aware of where his loyalties lied. People had had a hard enough time trusting those verdant eyes in his proclaimed innocence.

“Well, what have we here?”

Juliana gasped and wheeled around. She had been so shocked when she recognized Laurent that she had almost forgotten where she was. Standing before her was a grizzled man, dressed grandly if not a little foolishly for the festivities. His eyes gleamed black in the shadows and she unconsciously took a step backwards.

“Ah, ma petite,” the man mused. “Are you a spy then? What Musketeer is your lover and has sent you to your death?”

“Andre,” a shout came from behind them. “Who are you talking with? I expressly told you to arrive alone.”

The man before her grinned maliciously and grabbed her roughly by the arm, “Come on, little spy. Laurent loves a beautiful woman, maybe he’ll pleasure you before he kills you.”

Juliana struggled uselessly against the man’s iron grip as she was dragged none to gently into the lamplight. He drew a cry from her when he viciously ripped off her mask and threw her at Laurent’s feet.

“I found a wee birdie peeking round the corner,” he spat and threw her mask down by her hands. “I’m guessing she knows our Musketeer friend here, or perhaps one of his friends.”

“Well, well,” Juliana’s memories came back to her strongly at the slightly more mature sound of Laurent’s voice. The boy had become a man. “This is interesting. Are you in love with him, wench. Were you coming to save his life? Too late.”

“Michel,” his voice was making her blood run cold.

She looked up as a man stepped forward and raised his pistol at the Musketeer beside her. She locked eyes with him and saw pity in the man’s eyes. It wasn’t for him she realized, but for herself.

“Adieu, mademoiselle,” he whispered and the next thing she knew she had gone deaf to the world and the man’s eyes slid slowly out of focus as collapsed dead at her side.

She thought distantly that she may have screamed but her mind was frozen in horror with the image of the valiant dead man beside her.

“Alright, madame,” Laurent had apparently finished taunting her. He tired of games easily it seemed. “Tell me who you are and who sent you and I may give you an extra hour or two to live.”

Juliana remained stubbornly silent.

He kicked her in the ribs and barked, “Stupid wench. Who sent you?”

“No one!” she snapped. “I overheard your men talking and followed them.”

She hadn’t raised her eyes yet afraid he would recognize them. So she watched silently as Laurent's boots turned towards the man nearest to him and knocked him out with a heavy strike.

“Idiots,” he snarled. “Pitiful excuse for men. I told you to watch your mouths. Who knows what other senseless fool heard you and ran off to their precious Musketeers instead of being decidedly brave if not as completely unintelligent as this one.”

“Look at me,” he demanded. “Are you pretty?”

She ground her teeth together and refused to look up.

“Imprudent little bitch. Don’t waste your courage on me, I said look at me!”

Without warning he reached down and hit her cruelly across the face.

She bit her lip in an effort not to cry out and curled into herself protectively.

“Andre, bring her to her feet.”

The man behind her grabbed her roughly under the arms and forced her to her feet, “She’s feisty, Laurent.”

“That she is,” he chuckled darkly. “Now look at me.”

Seeing no other choice, Juliana defiantly raised her eyes and instantly saw recognition. Damn her father for giving D’Artagnan and herself their unmistakable blue eyes.

“Juliana D’Artagnan.” His eyes widened in disbelief and then became darkly amused. “But I believe it’s Widow Castlemore these days if I’m not mistaken.”

She glared at him and refused to speak.

“I was right about you. What a beautiful woman you turned into. I see you haven’t changed much since the seven year old girl I met that day. It’s a shame they wasted you on Castlemore.”

The man was mocking her. She had overheard all of his plans, watched him killed a man, and openly defied him; and he was mocking her. She ground her teeth together and remained silent. If he was going to kill her, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of her fear.

“So willful. It’s a shame I’ll have to kill you. How much exactly did you overhear.”

“Enough,” she said quietly.

“Well, what a knack your family has for getting in the way of people who want to kill the King. I really honestly would think you had all learned a lesson the first time.”

“D’Artagnan killed Rochefort and imprisoned Richelieu, what is there to be ashamed of about that?” she looked him fearlessly in the face.

She recoiled slightly when he licked his well shaped lips and closed the space between them, “I never said you should be ashamed. I would just hate for you to die because of some stupid notion of loyalty that men have planted in your head.”

He placed a finger to her lips when she began angrily rejoining.

“I have never forgotten you, ma petite. You have grown as well as I had hoped and I want you even more now,” he ran a hand smoothly from her ribs down to her waist. “Such a waste, your death will be, and all for some misguided attempt at loyalty to the King.”

Laurent looked up suddenly at the sound of footsteps, “Andre, go and greet whoever has come to visit.”

With a silent nod, Andre turned and disappeared through the opening behind him.

“Is someone following you?” he breathed into her face, running his manicured fingers through her wavy tresses. “Someone else meant to die for you tonight. I did not think that the Feast of Fools was so aptly named.”

“I know nothing of who has followed me,” she retorted. “I am alone.”

A pistol shot echoed through the darkness from the alley and the shout that followed clearly identified Andre as the wounded.

“Juliana!” a man was crying out her name.

“Damn it all to hell, blasted Musketeer!” Laurent swore loudly. “Michel, Serge. Do something with this girl, we have lingered too long.”

Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the building in front of them. Serge, the one who hadn’t killed the Musketeer, looked wildly towards the sound of her rescuers footsteps and fled after Laurent.

“Bloody coward,” Michel swore under his breath. He looked fiercely at her, “You are in luck mademoiselle, he had the only gun that could have killed you. So my best wishes if you should awake from this.”

He raised the butt of his pistol and brought it down on her head. She stared blankly at the man’s retreating back for a moment and then the world went black.

Well how was that for an update? I thought it went rather well, please let me know what you thought and review! Thanks for reading :)