Page 34 of The Bodyguard Who Came in from the Cold
~oOo~
During supper, Gareth watched Margery pick at her food. As she spoke with the suitors arrayed across from her, her face was as animated as always, but there was a tension in her eyes.
His anger was still so strong that he wanted to demand to know why she hadn’t told him about the group of visiting suitors, or the king’s insistence that she choose a husband a certain date. How could she expect him to be an effective guard if he didn’t know everything that was happening to her? He’d overheard some of her conversation in the solar with her ladies, where she’d elaborated on her plans for choosing a husband she could control. Her entire life had taught her that she could have anything she wanted—but not this time.
The servants began to clear away the last course. During the confusion of people leaving the table, Margery slipped away from her guests and down a side corridor. Gareth followed her.
She led him outside into the fading sunlight of early evening, and disappeared into the chapel. He stepped behind a mound of hay near the stables to wait. No one else entered; what could she be doing?
The sun had set behind the curtain wall before she emerged again. She walked slowly, her head down, her hands clasped loosely before her. He stepped into view.
Margery stopped in obvious surprise, her lips parted, her eyes wary. “Gareth, is something wrong? What are you doing here?”
“Following you.”
She sighed and looked away. “I do not need your protection this night. I was just feeling overwhelmed by having so many guests.”
“And you go to a chapel instead of the peace of your own bedchamber?”
She shrugged and began to walk again. He kept pace beside her, as the hard earth gave way to the gravel paths of the garden. They entered the gate to the lady’s garden, and overhead apple and pear trees closed out the pale pink sky.
“Believe me, Gareth, I am grateful that these boys show an interest in me.”
“Boys?” he repeated.
She smiled and shook her head. “Men. Forgive me. ’Tis just that they seem like boys fighting over a new toy.”
“An accurate description.” He took a deep breath and tried to sound relaxed. “I did not know of the king’s request that you choose a husband soon.”
Since a shrug was her only answer, he wanted to shake out whatever truths she was still holding back. From her behavior, there had to be more.
Margery turned away from him and sat down on a small bench in the middle of tall stalks of columbines. She started to move her skirts aside, but he’d never fit there. Feeling awkward and annoyed, he lowered himself to sit at her feet.
“Gareth, I can make room for you. ’Tis too damp on the ground.”
He ignored her words as he rested one elbow on the bench, his hand dangling close to her silk skirt. She bent toward him, which gave him a view of the deep shadow between her breasts. His anger subsided; he couldn’t even remember what they were talking about. Margery’s perfume surrounded him, and he wanted nothing more than to taste her, to lose himself in the feel of her.
10
Margery sat up straighter, her head above his, her face shadowed. “Forgive me for not telling you about the rest of the king’s proclamation.”
Gareth took a deep breath and looked down at his hand, grazed by her skirts. “ ’Tis a strange thing King Henry has done.”
“He only wanted to help,” she said, sighing. “He thought it would make me happy. I’m sure the king believed that making me choose by October would give me a husband sooner. But also,” she added with a touch of sadness, “he could not afford to allow my lands to languish too long unsettled.”
Gareth let his fingertips brush the cool silk of her dress. By the saints, even her skirt aroused him. “But instead, the king made you a target.”
She nodded, biting her lip and looking down into her lap. He almost felt sorry for her.
“Then it is my duty to protect you.”
“I do not like being your duty.”
Margery said the words so softly that Gareth almost missed them.
He said, “I do not mean to sound as if my time here is a chore I must get through. It is a chance to renew our friendship, to remember some of the better moments in my life.”
“You seem to have had few.”
