Page 64 of The Bodyguard Who Came in from the Cold
“They will tell no one.”
“Maybe not, but then I’ll have taught them to live in fear. I will not do that. Gareth, you must promise me that only Sir Wallace will know about this.”
“But why? Do you not want Townsend punished?”
“You have already done that. Just listen to me!” She reached for his hand and held it tight. “If the king hears that I am unable to protect myself, I’ll be forced to live at Greenwich with the queen. Much as they have only my interests at heart, I won’t let them supervise the decision of my husband. And if they’re worried enough, they could force me to choose now!”
“None of this would have happened if I hadn’t failed you.” He’d never had such a shameful defeat in his life. Always, he was the victor, even if he was sent away in the end. He let go of her hand and turned away. “I should have known what was happening. What is keeping Wallace?” he asked with exasperation.
“You said that before,” Margery began slowly. “That you should have known. What do you mean?”
“A good soldier would anticipate problems like this,” he answered, glancing at her to see if she believed him.
She looked suspicious, but she let it go.
After Wallace came in to dump the first buckets of water into the tub, Gareth wet a cloth and began to clean her face.
She tried to push him away. “I can do this myself. I was just cold.”
“Be still and let me see to your injuries.” He tilted her head towards the light. “Your cheek is already starting to bruise. How will you explain that?”
“I tripped in the dark,” she said immediately.
“Where else are you injured? I saw blood in your bed.”
She grinned, then winced and touched her cheek. “ ’Tis Sir Humphrey’s.”
He lowered the cloth and looked into her twinkling eyes.
“When I woke up and saw him, I punched him in the nose.” She started to giggle, a little too loudly.
Gareth frowned as the giggles turned to shivering, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Each tear that fell hurt him like a knife to the chest. He pulled her into his arms, confused by his own anger and pain. He had saved her; why did he still feel so bad?
Wallace brought more hot water. Gareth wanted to help him, but Margery wouldn’t let him leave.
When the tub was near full, Wallace gave a thoughtful look to Gareth, who was kneeling with his arms around Margery. She kept her face buried in his neck.
“Do you need anything else?” Wallace asked.
He shook his head. “Thank you for your help. Go find your bed.”
Margery looked up and smiled. “Thank you, Sir Wallace.”
When they were alone, Gareth ran his hand down her hair. “I am sure you can bathe alone. Call me back when you are finished.”
She clutched his sleeves. “Don’t leave. Drag the screen before the tub. Please, just…don’t leave.”
He couldn’t go against her wishes if he wanted to. His guilt and his anger were so entwined, he didn’t know where one left off and the other began. He tried to remember the revenge he wanted, and how much he despised her family.
But none of that mattered when she huddled against his chest and shivered…all because he hadn’t protected her. She tried so hard to be brave and independent. To see her like this was almost too painful, and he didn’t understand his feelings.
Gareth leaned down and pressed a kiss against her head. “Let me get the screen. You’ll feel better in the water.”
When everything was ready for her bath, Margery gave him a shaky smile and disappeared behind the screen. He tried to stay focused on his inadequacy, on what he should have done to keep her safe.
But the rustle of her clothing as it dropped to the floor seemed to echo loudly. She was naked, and there was only thin wood between them. He heard the splash of water when she entered the tub, then her groan of pleasure as she slid into the water.
Suddenly the room was too hot; he could see steam rising above the screen. He loosened the laces of his shirt and tried not to imagine Margery in the tub, soapy water hiding and revealing her body. He sat in her chair, his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his dirty hands.
