Page 57 of The Bodyguard Who Came in from the Cold
The celebration went on well into the early morning. Gareth made sure Margery saw him drinking often, so he could blame the ale for making him stumble into her bed.
After everyone had gone to sleep, he waited a long, frustrating hour. His mind was haunted by memories of her breathless moans, of the way her body had shuddered against his. Finally he sneaked into her bedchamber.
A low fire in the hearth lit the room with a soft, shadowy light. Margery lay in bed asleep, and didn’t stir as he approached. Her dark lashes rested on her cheeks, her full lips slightly parted with her breathing. Her curls spread out into a sensual disarray across her pillow.
Desire thundered through his body, almost overpowering him, but he refused to bed her as if he were an overly eager boy. He unlaced his doublet, pulled it over his head, and threw it across a small table. As he hurriedly loosened his shirt, her neat handwriting on parchment caught his attention.
It was an unfinished letter to her brothers, James and Reynold. Seeing their names was like immersing himself in a winter river.
He stumbled back. He’d lost sight of his revenge, caring more for getting between Margery’s thighs than for what this family owed him. He could not allow his nearness to his goal to make him forget so many years of pain.
He was letting the visions affect his life too much. Margery was in no immediate danger, as long as she obeyed him.
He began to wonder if the vision had a different meaning. Perhaps it was not a warning, but a prediction of a good future.
Could the man on the horse be—himself?
He walked back to her bed and stood over her as he donned his doublet. Though she was covered to her waist by a thin blanket, her white nightclothes fell in shadowy folds across her breasts. With a little sigh, she turned her head away from him.
Gareth smoothed his fingers through her curls. He had forgotten that the visions didn’t always foretell doom. Sometimes they told him useless information, like where his mother’s knitting needles had gone. Maybe this time his knowledge could be helpful. Perhaps he had let his natural suspicion cloud his judgment where the visions were concerned.
For a moment, he felt an unfamiliar twinge of conscience, which he was determined to ignore. He might be using Margery for revenge, but the rewards to her would be sufficient. She would have his protection and his loyalty.
Silently, Gareth returned to his own chamber.
~oOo~
By midday, the noblemen were on their way to London, followed by their baggage carts, their servants, and their squires. Margery returned to an almost empty great hall, and the relief of solitude was nearly overwhelming.
Not that she was really alone. She smiled at the servants dismantling the trestle tables from the last meal. A maidservant hummed as she swept out the old rushes.
For just a moment, Margery pretended that the last few months had not happened, that she was a carefree girl with the promise of the rest of her life to look forward to.
Then she saw Gareth sitting in a chair before the fire, legs spread, a tankard of ale in his fist resting on one knee. In her mind, she saw again his pale face when he’d taken ill, the way his eyes had glazed over, frightening her. She didn’t believe a simple illness was the cause, especially not when he looked so…healthy.
She should not meet his gaze, but she found herself caught in his penetrating stare, embarrassed, yet aware of the secret things they had done to each other. He made her feel self-conscious and sensual and endangered all at the same time. She walked toward him slowly.
He looked up into her face. “So, the London suitors are gone.”
“Yes. Your duties should prove lighter.”
“I think not,” he said with a shake of his head. “Unless you are locked in a room alone with me, there is always a danger.”
And there wasn’t danger when she was alone with him? ’Tis what attracted them to each other, she was certain. She must be blushing furiously.
Gareth smiled, which only added to her discomfort. Did he know everything she was thinking? Did he know that even now she couldn’t forget the way his body had rubbed against hers, the wild thrill she’d felt with his tongue in her mouth? She wanted to experience it all again, for a secret memory to cherish long after he was gone and she was married.
But there was still so much to do, to restock and resettle the household now that their guests had departed. Within the week her brothers would be arriving. Her brief respite from entertaining would be spent supervising the cleaning.
Suddenly, it was all too much. Margery had been trapped in this castle for weeks now, and she needed to get away.
But not alone.
She looked down at Gareth, who sipped his ale and waited patiently for her to speak. She gave him a slow smile, and he raised one eyebrow.
“Wait here,” she said, then walked quickly back towards the kitchens. Soon she returned, carrying a basket brimming with food. “Follow me.”
She headed toward the double doors leading to the inner ward, and he caught up with her as they crossed the packed earth courtyard.
