Page 27 of The Bodyguard Who Came in from the Cold
“Gareth!”
“From what I remember of Bolton, I thought his wife would be a meek noblewoman with no thoughts of her own.”
For a brief moment, he saw amusement in her eyes. “He thought he wanted that, too. But King Henry gave him Isabel, who’s almost as tall as James, and fights just as well.”
He remembered the last time he’d seen her brother, barely an adult, looking down at Gareth with all the arrogance of an earl who thought his bloodlines made him a better man. Bolton had judged him unworthy of friendship or loyalty.
“And your other brothers?” He wanted to look in Margery’s eyes and think revenge, not sexual release.
She smiled sadly. “Edmund died a few years ago. He took sick after an injury.”
“I am sorry for your loss.” Edmund had been frail, and destined for the priesthood. They had had little in common, but Edmund had taught him to read.
“Reynold is married, too,” she said, “though at first he took Edmund’s place in the monastery.”
“However did he meet a woman?”
“She was imprisoned there. He rescued her and they fell in love.”
“So all of your brothers are at peace,” he said.
“It took a long time, but yes, they’re happy.”
She smiled at him, ignorant of the ugliness that lurked in his soul. They were all so happy, the Bolton and Welles families. Her brothers had found women who loved them, women they trusted, and Margery would soon choose her own husband.
The last decent threads of his life had begun to unravel when her family had thrown him out. As he gazed upon her lovely face, suddenly everything became clear. Margery was the answer to his retribution. Her familyowedhim.
For payment, he would take her to wife.
Her dowry and lands would keep him from starving, and give him back the respectability his family had long since lost. She was looking for a husband—who better than he? She would be protected, and he would have the use of her body and her money. What else was marriage about—except begetting heirs, something he would have no problem beginning immediately.
They were alone in her bedchamber, with the bed turned down. He could take her maidenhead right now, and they’d be married quickly. There would be nothing her brothers could do when they returned.
But…if he took his time, made Margery care for him and choose him of her own free will, how much sweeter would be his revenge on her brothers.
Gareth let himself admire her beauty, knowing it would soon be only his. Perhaps he should begin his slow seduction tonight: just a touch of her cheek, a longing stare into her eyes. That was all he’d ever needed before.
Margery met his gaze, and her smile slowly died.
He rose to his full height, then stepped before her, letting his knees brush hers.
There was a sharp knock on the door, and they both flinched.
8
As the knock sounded again, Margery jumped to her feet, wondering frantically where Gareth could hide. To be discovered like this, to ruin both their lives with her sins—she couldn’t bear it.
“Just one moment!” she called, her hands on his lower back as she pushed him toward the window.
She motioned to the draperies and he stepped behind them. She glimpsed the dark amusement in his face as she arranged the folds of fabric to fall around him, making sure his feet were covered. After walking quickly to the door, she took a deep breath and opened it.
Anne stood in the dark corridor, her hair loose, a robe and blanket around her shoulders. She gave Margery a frown and looked toward the bed. “Were you asleep? I did not mean to awaken you.”
“I wasn’t asleep yet,” she said, then gave a wide yawn. “Can I help you with something?”
Nodding, Anne walked in. Margery’s shoulders slumped in resignation as she closed the door and watched the girl curl up in the chair Gareth had recently vacated.
“Anne, I am actually quite tired. Could this wait until morning?” Margery was certain she could hear Gareth breathing. Did the draperies rise and fall with his chest?
