Page 71 of The Bodyguard Who Came in from the Cold
He approached the head table. Margery’s smile softened as she looked at him. “Gareth, come sit with us. You remember my brothers.”
Gareth could tell that at first the younger brother did not remember who he was. Welles wore a polite smile as he rose to his feet. But Bolton had been a man when he’d forced Gareth to leave his home. He remembered. His smile died, and his eyes narrowed as he looked between Gareth and Margery.
“Gareth Beaumont?” Bolton said to Margery.
“Yes. Do you not remember? He fostered with us.”
Gareth saw Welles’s quick frown, and he knew how their minds were working. They were remembering his family curse, the tournaments where he had crushed every opponent, how he’d been driven from England. They took in his plain jerkin and simple boots.
When Margery gave Gareth the place beside her, Welles’s eyebrows rose, and Bolton frowned. It was a good, satisfying moment.
Margery could barely contain her excitement. Her brothers were whole and well, and their service to King Henry was temporarily over. She knew their wives must be missing them terribly. And imagine, they each had a child to return to! Sometimes it was incredible how things had changed.
She suddenly felt Gareth’s thigh along the length of hers, and she struggled not to blush. Things had changed for her, as well. She passed him a loaf of bread and he smiled that devilish smile at her.
“So, Margery,” began her brother James, “how goes the husband hunt?”
She sighed, regretting that James was ever to the point. Every young man they’d traveled with turned his curious gaze on her. With a sinking feeling, she realized her brothers had brought these men for her to look over, like sheep at the market. She rescued her faltering smile when Gareth rested his hand on her thigh.
“James,” she said, “that is hardly polite dinner conversation. I am meeting men, I am not ‘hunting.’”
Everyone laughed, but she had to force her laughter. How dare her brothers assume she needed their help? They had each made a few foolish choices, and somehow each had come out happy. Why couldn’t they leave her choice of husband alone?
“If we cannot discuss your life, Margery,” Reynold said, “then what kind of brothers are we? We are only concerned for you.”
She smiled sweetly through gritted teeth. “Then let us discuss this later in private.”
James arched an eyebrow as he looked at her. “We go away for a few months, and you’ve become your own woman.”
“I’ve always been my own woman. And how is your new daughter?”
Throughout the meal, she kept the conversation away from herself. She knew James and Reynold watched her with concern—and watched Gareth with suspicion. Let them look. She wanted Gareth beside her, and she took strength from the comfort of his hand touching her. He was a reminder that she could live her own life, make her own decisions, even where he was concerned.
As the maidservants were carrying out tarts and pies and puddings for dessert, James pushed back his bench and looked thoughtfully at her. She braced herself; then his gaze turned on Gareth.
“Beaumont,” he began, “I heard you’ve been out of the country these past few years.”
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Margery held her breath as she turned to look at Gareth.
“I have most recently lived in France,” he said.
James rested his elbow on the table. “What did you do there?”
It was her turn to lay her hand on Gareth’s thigh.
“Mostly tournaments and mercenary work,” Gareth said.
“You could not do that here?” James asked.
Margery saw her brothers’ friends eyeing Gareth, whispering to one another and frowning. She could not imagine what it must be like to be treated this way. She used to fear it, and lived her life with the worry of it, but now it only angered her. She opened her mouth to defend him, but he squeezed her hand in warning.
“I couldn’t earn my living here,” he said calmly, his gaze intent on James.
“And why is that?”
“Because every tournament I entered, I won. My opponents were upset by that. In fact, I am sure I remember some of your friends here.” He glanced around the table pointedly, and Margery wanted to cheer.
