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All For One- Chapter Eighteen

Updated on June 20, 2015

18. André and Milady

Athos and Grimaud became comfortable with César’s mansion. Grimaud’s task was to explore the ground of the estate and become familiar with any way to easily escape with a person. Once they had committed to becoming part of César’s staff, Athos decided to inform Grimaud of the situation. He knew he was taking a risk of being betrayed by a servant, but the task at hand was too enormous to be undertaken by so few. He noticed that Grimaud’s enthusiasm for their mission intensified, and entertained the notion that the servant was grateful to be entrusted with such an important task. Athos was no cook, so his duties were relegated to the most basic kitchen duties. He spent the day chopping, slicing, and peeling.

At one point he was ordered to take a tray of food to the second floor. Athos had no serving experience, but all he had to do was to carry a tray. He made his way upstairs by the servant’s stairs in the back and carried the tray down the hallway. His eyebrows rose. Armed guards were sitting in front of one door, the very door to which he was meant to deliver his tray. The guards stood when he approached. One of them lowered his weapon and took the tray from Athos. Athos watched as another guard unlocked the door, allowing the guard with the tray to enter. He heard a woman’s voice.

“¡Desgraciado! ¡Me liberación a la vez!” the voice screeched in Spanish. “¡Voy a tener tu cabeza! ¿Entiendes?”

“I hope you’re not waiting for a tip,” another guard sneered at Athos.

Athos smiled, bowed, and walked away. He had the proof he needed. Whoever was in that room was a prisoner, there was no doubt. That voice belonged to a Spanish woman. He was positive that the prisoner was Anne of Austria.

Meanwhile, André decided to bluff his way into the household. He snuck in with Athos, Grimaud and the rest of the staff, but he was no servant. Before he was smuggled in, he changed his clothes. He now wore the clothes of a nobleman. That evening, after dinner, Condé and César decided to hunt on the grounds. Most of the house was empty. André was concerned about finding evidence, as he didn’t yet know about Athos’ discovery, but he was mainly interested about finding the blonde woman he had encountered that afternoon.

He found her sitting in a sitting room, perusing a letter. Although he only saw her for a second, he thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, and André had known many women. He was worried that he glimpse of her was too quick and that his mind had created a creature far more attractive than the one he had actually seen, but he was overjoyed to find that reality was even better than his imagination.

“Where is everyone?” he asked, startling her.

She tucked the letter away and faced him. “Who are you?” she asked. She didn’t know this gentleman who was now standing in front of him. He was dressed elegantly, and she assumed he was a member of the elite of society.

“Who am I?” he said. “You don’t remember?” he asked.

She was momentarily befuddled. “Should I?”

“We met at Condé’s ball,” he bluffed.

She thought about that night. He was a very handsome man and she was sure she would have remembered such an individual. “Did we?”

“Of course,” he said. “We were introduced.”

She smiled. “I am afraid I forget your name,” she said apologetically. “I am Sabiné du Luçon.”

“André, Chevalier de Valence,” he said, bowing. Although André would one day have a title to his name, this was not it, but he often used it as an alias.

“So you are a friend of the Duc de Vendôme?” she asked.

“The Prince of Condé, actually,” he said.

“I see,” she said.

He sat across from her. If she was part of this scheme, maybe she would reveal something to her if he was sympathetic. “The Prince and I believe in the same things.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“That France should be ruled by the French, and not the Italians.”

She smiled.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I am in agreement,” she said.

“The monarchy is in trouble,” he said. “A little boy can not run our country.”

“And his mother can’t run it for him,” she said.

“I wonder if they thought we were fooled.”

“By what?” she asked.

“The circus that they called the Estates-General.”

17th Century Chemise
17th Century Chemise

They talked in that vein for a while. When Milady asked him why he was here, he told her that Prince Condé asked him here, but that he had to be discreet. Milady was slightly suspicious of this man, but he seemed to be ignorant of the plan. André felt that the blonde woman known as Sabiné was the most ravishing woman he had ever met. She smiled and leaned in to him. He was handsome. She asked him if he had any hobbies, and he remarked that he was an excellent fighter. Milady assumed that Condé had asked the young man to accompany him for his physical prowess. When he remarked that he had never been to César’s mansion, she offered to escort him about the large house. He stood up and offered his arm to her. She took it and they walked about the house, exploring. They went upstairs by the large grand staircase in the main hall. He noticed the guards in front of one of the rooms.

“That must be César’s room,” he remarked.

“No,” she replied.

“Then why the guards?” he asked.

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face. Milady came to the conclusion that this handsome blonde man did not know about their plan. She wondered why Condé would involve him without telling him why he was here, but at the same time she was glad that Condé could keep his mouth shut. She smiled. “I have no idea.”

She led him to her room and opened the door. They walked through without a word. She closed the door behind them. He watched her. She walked slowly to him and reached up for his face. She kissed him. There was no hesitation, and André knew that there would be no resistance to his charms. Her desire was clear. He didn’t know that she had more than one reason to become physical with him. She wanted to know more about him, in case he was a spy. She wanted this fighter on her side and believed that sleeping with him would bond him to her. Even though she had these legitimate intelligent reasons, she could not deny her own wants. And she wanted him.

He removed his doublet, letting it fall to the floor. She ran her hands over his chest, barely covered with his simple cotton shirt.

“Why don’t you take off your boots and make yourself comfortable,” she said as she slowly strode to a dressing screen. He sat on the settee as she disappeared behind the screen. He wrenched his boots off of his feet. He stood and removed his belt, leaving his weapons on the settee. When she returned, her dress was gone, and she wore only a simple chemise, a petticoat and stockings. Her golden hair was free and it spilled onto her shoulders in large blonde ringlets. She walked slowly towards him, her breasts swaying against the thin fabric of her chemise. When she reached him, she tugged his shirt up over his head. André was in fantastic shape and she ran her hands over his hard, firm chest, over his sinewy shoulders and down his muscular arms, hardened from years of swordplay.

He caressed her breasts through the cotton separating them. Her nipples, hard and excited, strained against the cloth to get to his fingers. He pulled the simple strings on the front of her chemise and the thin fabric peeled open in the front. Her firm breasts kissed the air, and André gasped. At long last and after years of searching, he finally found his heart’s desire: the perfect set of breasts. His rough hands caressed them as he leaned over and kissed her neck. He started to peel the chemise off of her.

“No,” she said, stopping him. “Leave it on.”

André wasn’t that interested in seeing her shoulders, so he simply shrugged and continued kissing her. Her hands found the front of his breeches and untied the string holding them up. She slid them over his hips and down his firm legs. As her hands returned, her soft palm grasped him, and he moaned in pleasure. He responded by untying her petticoat, letting it drop to the floor. She backed up to the bed, and lay upon it. He approached her and laid hands on her delicate ankle, still clad with her stocking. He felt her smooth leg up to her thighs where he untied the silk strings and slid her stocking slowly down to her feet. After removing her other stocking the same way he gently spread her legs. As her womanhood opened before him, he kissed her legs. Small, gentle kisses blazing a trial up her leg. He buried himself between her legs and she let out a deep moan. No man had ever pleasured her in that manner, and André, having honed his technique on half of the bar maids in Paris, demonstrated his expertise. Moaning loudly, she begged him to enter her. He mounted her, he was ready. She wrapped her long legs around his muscular back as he plunged into her. Their lovemaking was furious and soon he found himself finishing inside her.

She was not finished with him. She wanted more. She knew that they could continue if she satisfied him the way he satisfied her. It was an act that she normally despised, but despite herself she relished the taste and feel of him. When he was ready she crawled upon him and they made love again with her on top of him, his hands caressing her perfect breasts.

Later, he lay on his back and she caressed his chest. She had kept the chemise on, but otherwise she was completely vulnerable to him. She was satisfied in a way she had never physically been. She nodded off, and when she awoke later, he was gone.


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