Page 87 of The Bodyguard Who Came in from the Cold
“Oh, Sir Bradley, please forgive me. Do not think I mock you, but I have known Sir Gareth since we were children. Never could I believe such things of him. He has cared for me and protected me. If he was a wizard, do you not think I would have seen the signs?”
“Mistress, men such as he are too cunning for a mere woman,” Sir Bradley said.
Margery’s smile lessened at his stupidity. “Just a few weeks ago, Sir Gareth was gored by a charging boar. Do you not think if he was a wizard, he would have stopped the animal?” she scoffed.
The voices were dying down, and one or two of her knights were starting to smile. “At the Cabots’ tournament, I watched Sir Gareth get knocked to the ground in the final jousting match. He could have won a fortune. Do you not think a wizard would have stayed in the saddle?”
Sir Bradley’s face was growing red. He looked about, trying to marshal any supporters. “But, mistress?—”
“I must admit, it saddens me to think you would believe such nonsense. His family has had a tragic history, but that is all.” She turned away from Sir Bradley, as if she had already dismissed him from her suitors.
She glanced casually at her servants and friends, who had been near Gareth for months now. Surely they wouldn’t think ill of him.
Her knights laughed together and turned away, resuming their game of dice. Anne and Cicely bent over their embroidery. A serving maid shyly approached Gareth with an offer of ale, and soon his usual parade of admiring maidservants fell into line.
Margery gave a shaky sigh—it had worked. She signaled for her minstrels to begin a dance, then walked over to Gareth. He slowly looked up at her, his face unreadable.
“Sir Gareth, I believe I still owe you a dance.”
She knew she had left him no choice. He rose to his feet, his golden eyes gazing deeply into hers. What did he see in her, what did he know? The possibilities were endless, and she suddenly wanted to explore everything with him. She put her hands in his, and his warmth flowed through her. Though he didn’t smile, he studied her with an intensity that left her flustered and yearning. As they whirled past Sir Bradley, she made sure to show a happy, joyous face. It wasn’t difficult; she was in Gareth’s arms.
~oOo~
That night, Gareth sat alone in his bedchamber, before his bare hearth. He relived his dance with Margery, how grief and gratitude had waged war in his mind. She’d known everything about the curse, but instead of sending him from her in fear, she’d saved him from certain banishment, perhaps even death. Her unselfishness humbled him, and only made his resolve stronger to leave the moment he could. She did not deserve the scandal of having him in her home.
In his mind he saw the grounds of Hawksbury Castle. Not since his fostering had he stayed in one place long enough to know people. He would miss the soldiers and knights; he would even miss Wallace’s friendship. He’d never thought he’d learn to trust a man, but Wallace had changed his skepticism. Wallace could have courted Margery himself, but he would never betray their friendship.
Yet he would be a much better husband than Gareth.
The door suddenly opened and Margery slipped in. She leaned back against the wall and gave him a speculative look. “I had to come. I think you need protection from Sir Bradley.”
She smiled, but he couldn’t smile back. He just looked at her across the room, and felt that they were farther apart than ever.
“You know what I am now,” he said simply.
She walked toward him, her gown swaying with the motion of her hips. The heat of unfulfilled desire was almost painful. As he remembered all he’d done to her, he knew he deserved every pain and more.
“I’ve always known what kind of man you are.” Her voice was low, sultry.
She was so naive.
“You only think you do,” he countered angrily. “You don’t know why I came here; you don’t know the things I’d planned.”
She stood above him, her hands on her hips. He leaned back in the chair and gripped the arm rests.
“Gareth, you came here to protect me. Is that a lie?”
He looked away. “That was only part of it.”
“How did you know I needed protection?” she asked softly.
He clenched his jaw. How could he answer? How could he prove once and for all the sick things that went on in his mind? “I just knew.”
“How did you know?”
He stood up to tower above her. He needed her fear, needed to drive her away. “Do you want to hear it all, how I see things before they happen? How I saw your face in my dreams and visions after all these years?”
“You swore an oath to my father,” she said calmly. “When you…saw me, was it me you came for, or my father?”
