1 The Ties that Bind
Disclaimer: As always the characters and setting of the Lost World belong to the New Line etc. I'm just borrowing them, I promise to give them back when I've done. Yes! all of them (has fingers crossed that no one notices a certain hunter is missing), well except the characters I create, they're mine!!
Author's notes:
Tara: Hi, well this started out as my first fan fic, but a wonderful person decided to both inspire and join me on this new adventure into the lost world, yep you've guessed it my partner in crime (and writing!!) Kat. As always guys, any and all feedback is welcomed and encouraged!!
Kat: Although I didn't work on the first part, I'm now very honored to be allowed to help with the rest; I promise to do my best
Summary: A thunderous storms heralds the arrival of new visitors to the Plateau, but not all is well with the occupants of the Tree house.
Chapter 1
It was late at night in the jungle; the tree house perched high in the safety of trees, soft lights glowing bright against the enveloping dark of the night. Its occupants, who would usually be sound asleep in their rooms, were awake, kept up by the thunderous roar of wind and deafening, all too often clashes of thunder and lightening, choosing to enjoy each others company then suffer a sleepless night in their rooms alone.
All except for Challenger, who busied himself in his laboratory, the lightening seeming to bring on it's own flashes of inspiration in the Professors brilliant mind, he had retired from the group, muttering excitedly under his breathe and dashing down the stairs out of sight.
Ned as always, was sat at the table, a journal at hand, several candles arranged around him, giving off a soft but bright glow over his writings and the rest of the room. He sat, face pensive, gaze staring distantly off at nothing in particular, until the words, his mind was searching for finally pleased him enough to write down. The pattern had continued for a few hours now, long spaces of silence and far away looks followed by brief moments of hurried writing, only go to back to the familiar silence and still as his mind searched for the next paragraph of his story.
Veronica sat happily reading one of her parent journals, occasionally stealing a glance at the young reporter, it never ceased to amaze her the relish and joy with which his writing bought. She didn't doubt that he was busy at work on his latest instalment of their adventures together. The last six months had had more then their fair share of adventure, danger and excitement. Not every experience a pleasant one but all worthy of any novelists skills.
She often found herself reading his journals of their past adventures and was always struck by the way he described their exploits, keeping to the truth of the situations, very rarely embellishing but always seeming to describe the events with an enthusiasm that grabbed hold of the reader and left them no choice but to greedily eat up the passages and chapters.
In the long months of his time missing in the spirit world they were all that had kept her hope alive. His joy in life was plain to see in his writing and someone with that kind of energy wouldn't go quietly. It didn't surprise her to find out that he had often been with them in spirit, watching over his friends, watching over her as she prayed and hoped for his return.
Another thunderously load flash of lightening dragged her attention from her thoughts, as lit up the room with a blinding light, leaving the after images plastered against her eyelids, and eliciting a tiny almost in audible gasps from the only other lady of the house, almost unnoticeable, but not quite.
Marguerite sat huddled up by the fire, a blanket pulled about her shoulders, a miserable sour expression marring her beautiful, dark curl, framed features, staring miserable at the flames. She hated thunder storms, the sudden violent noise and flashes of light bringing back too many memories of times alone, cold and wet, suffering the worst of the weather out in the open, running or hiding. She would have gone to bed hours ago and found peace in sleep away from the memories, but the storm was impossibly violent and as much as she didn't want to admit and would never show it, it scared the hell out of her, the only comfort the silent presences of her friends. Even if one of them was yet again angry with her, or more likely hurt.
It pained her, remembering the icy words that had tumbled from her mouth earlier that evening, the first rumblings of thunder bringing the cold stab of fear in her chest, butterflies finding a home in the pit of her stomach and as always the damned man had sensed it almost before she had. Gently trying to be comforting and coax the reasons for her sudden fear out in the open. A part of her would have gladly told him, but another knew that once one secret was out, the others would soon follow, and the dark terrors of her past were something she was definitely not ready to share, even with the man she loved.
Marguerite had denied it of course, the fear making her tongue sharper then usual, turning their little teases to a more heated debate, which had finally exploded in her face. Sometimes she didn't know if she was in control at those moments, hurtful words seemed to flow naturally to her tongue, by-passing her head and heart. If only he knew how deep those bloody accusing eyes of his cut, when she had finally said something that had gone one step too far. He would always stop then and as always she would have the last word. But he didn't need any to win, the look he gave her spoke volumes in hurt and pain.
Marguerite tore her gaze away from the dancing flames of the fire to stare at the tall, lean object of her thoughts, his broad shoulders and narrow waist silhouetted against a sudden flash of lightening.
Roxton stood at the balcony, leaning against the post supporting the roof, silently starring out at the turbulent night time jungle, his dark green eyes locked on some unseen object out in the distance, his mind free to wonder other places. He didn't even have to look into the room; at the women he secretly loved and know she was frightened. The moment the rain had begin to pour and the distant rumble of thunder start, then the fiery Miss Krux had become suddenly irritable and snappy, something that only seemed to happen lately if she was annoyed or frightened.
And as usual, whenever she was frightened she pushed him away. As if scared to admit the weakness and sensing he would know it the moment they came close. Verbal sparring had erupted into a full blown argument, which had resulted in both of them finding their own separate corners of the room, both silently sulking, contemplating the harsh words exchanged and instantly regretted, but both too stubborn to admit it. He knew without a doubt now that she had feelings for him, her actions spoke louder then words ever could, and he was sure she knew he felt the same, but neither had found the courage to admit it, both happy to dance their little dance between tenderness and passion or hurt and anger. Neither was ready to admit their feelings and until they were the dance would continue.
Not that he didn't enjoy it, the hunter in him relished the challenge, the exhilaration and joy he felt whenever he finally got a pleasing reaction from her, a blinding smile or stolen kiss, were the moments he lived for. But they would never last, as all good things seemed to do. One minute they would be enjoying each others company, sometimes even an intimate moment, the things he lived for most of all, then suddenly the perfect moment would fall apart with an interruption or more often an argument. She never ceased to amaze him with the way she so easier hurt him to the core, he was like a toy in her hands, as easy for her to hurt as bring joy to. She had an all- consuming power over him and more then a little, it terrified him.
But that was what drew him to Marguerite, a woman of 'Fire and Steel' he had called her in those early days together. Someone to be fought for with deeds not words. A woman whose heart would take every ounce of his strength and will to capture, a prize worth fighting for and something the hunter was not about to give up on anytime soon. He hadn't come this far and gotten this close to give up now, even if it took the rest of his life to accomplish his goal he would win her heart as completely as she commanded his.
Sighing deeply he pulled his mind away from thoughts of Marguerite, at times like these, when they were not on the best of terms frustration was the only result. Besides something on the edges of his senses was bothering him, closing his eyes he let years of experience take over, letting his instincts guide his mind. It took a few moments but he finally discovered the thing that was bothering him, a soft buzzing noise, a buzzing that sounded too metallic to be natural and it was growing louder.
It took a few moments for the realisation to dawn on the hunter before he realised the sound he heard was that of an engine. Opening his eyes he darted to the edge of the balcony, out into the downpour, his sudden movements startling the rest of his companions.
Marguerite was first up out of her seat, having been silently observing him and joining him at the balcony, although she stayed back under the protection of the roof, from the torrential rain that had already soaked Roxton through to the skin in the few seconds he had been out in it, his clothing becoming transparent and clinging to his skin. Usually the sight would have been something Marguerite would have taken time to admire, the briefest glimpses of this man's flesh eliciting almost over powering feelings within her, on this occasion however she was far more interested in his sudden decision for a shower.
"Roxton what the hell do you think your doing?? Come back in before…" She was going to say 'get drenched through', but that was already too late and besides that he was absently waving at her to be quiet while his eyes searched the sky for something unseen or heard. She didn't like being both ignored or waved silent, her back going straight up, her miserable mood very happy to take up the hunter with another round of verbal boxing.
Ned and Veronica were beside her seconds later followed by Challengers, having heard the suddenly scraping of chairs on the ceiling and thuds as the group ran to the window.
"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked huffing a little from his exertion of sprinting up the stairs to the living room.
Ned shook his head, for one brief moment and by Marguerites reaction he thought Roxton had taken leave of his senses and thrown himself from the balcony. "I don't know", he told Challenger honestly, "Ask Roxton!" He told the scientist.
"Roxton?" Challenger asked the younger man, only to be waved quiet also; it was obvious he was more listening then looking for the object of his attentions.
The little group stood huddled under the cover of the roof, leaving the hunter to the rain until Ned finally heard the strange noise too and joined Roxton at the railing, searching the heavy clouded, pitch-black sky.
"That sounds like an engine!" He exclaimed excitedly, shouting over the noise of the storm, "An aircraft engine!" That got the others attention who all rushed to the railing, heedless of the downpour to help search the sky for the source of the noise. The buzzing, hum of the engine now clear against the roar of wind and claps of thunder, but the source still out of sight.
Suddenly out of nowhere an aircraft erupted from over the distant tree tops, impossibly low, almost skimming the tops of the tress, catching a few of the taller ones, sending branches and foliage crashing to the jungle floor below. A sudden flash of lightening illuminated it for one, brief moment, showing it to be of a design the explorers had never before seen. The aircraft made it's way over the tree house, so low the explorers involuntarily ducked, even though the tree top and plane were well above them, as suddenly as it had appeared the plane was gone again, the rumble of engine slowly declining until nothing could be heard over the sounds of the storm.
The explorers stood agape for moments, silently starring off in the direction the plane had disappeared, before coming to their senses, the action over, realising the soaked mess they all were and dashed back into the cover of the tree house's roof.
Ned was almost bouncing he was so excited. The image of the plane stood out in his mind, he had had contact with all manner of aircraft during his time in the war but the plane was of a design he had never seen before and what was most startling was it's lack of any visible propellers.
Challengers was already well ahead of him. "Did you see that?" He exclaimed almost as excited as the young reporter. Stupid question was written, as a response, all over Marguerites face, although she kept her mouth shut not trusting herself to speak.
Ned jumped in, "I spent a lot of time around all manner of aircraft during the war but I've never seen one like that before! What about you Roxton?"
The Hunter shook his head and replied. " I can honestly say I have never seen one quite like that before either Neddy boy." He grinned as he answered, his earlier dark mood forgotten. The reporter was beside himself with barely contained enthusiasm and excitement and it always tickled Roxton to see the young man like this.
"It didn't see any propellers" Challenger joined in, as usual straight into the details, " and it was of a single wing design". Challenger's enthusiasm was almost as exuberant as Ned in his own way.
"Well whether it has propeller's or how many bloody wings it has isn't really of much use to us if its gone is it?" Marguerite stated irritation evident in her voice.
"Well it was low so that's got to mean it was landing or trying to land right?" Ned interjected ignoring Marguerite's tone of voice.
"That's if it wasn't in trouble and was in the process of crashing" She shot back at him, knocking a little of the wind out of his sails and quieting him.
Then his eye's lit up again and he was already moving towards the door before he said "Well why don't we go find out! It looked like it was heading for the clearing!" He was already in the process of strapping on his gun belt when Roxton the voice of reason spoke up.
"Hold on Neddy by, not really a good idea to go traipsing round the jungle in the middle of night" His grin widened as he saw the sheepish look creep across Ned's features as realisation struck.
"Roxton's right Ned, best wait to the morning when the storm has passed" Challenger added, although by the looks of him Roxton saw Challenger would have eagerly followed Ned out into the jungle.
Veronica stayed quiet throughout the whole little moment of excitement and it's aftermath, moments like these always made her sad. It never stopped hurting the way in which the others seemed to get excited whenever an opportunity arose that might offer them a way home. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn't help but feel hurt at their enthusiasm to leave the place she considered her home. Ned noticed her expression and whatever was left of his early excitement was washed away by the look she gave him. Without giving Ned the opportunity to speak she finally spoke up.
"It looks like the storm is finally breaking, so I'm off to bed". With that she turned on her heals and left the room without a backwards glance. The other immediately saw her discomfort, a look of recognition and shame passing between them.
"I think Veronica has the right idea, I'm off to bed too," with that Ned hung his gun belt back on the stand and headed towards his room but stopped and added, "I'll need all my rest for tomorrow" smiling in spite of himself before disappearing from the room.
Challenger bid his goodnights too and headed down the stairs to his own room, leaving Marguerite and Roxton alone in the living room together.
The raven-haired heiress had moved to stand by the balcony once more, starring out at the rapidly clearing night sky. As soon as the plane had passed overhead, the wind had dropped and the thunder began to roll away, a detail that was lost on all but Marguerite it seemed. A sense of deja'vu was already teasing at the edges of her memory and a sense of foreboding beginning to settle in her stomach. Something about tonight's events was not sitting well with the heiress and it had nothing to do with the argument earlier. She was startled from her musings by a hand on her shoulder as Roxton gently replaced the blanket she had dropped dashing to the balcony.
She hadn't even realised she'd been stood with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, trying to keep the warmth in, her drenched clothes and the cool night breeze creating a chill. She tried to ignore him, still angry from the night's earlier events and didn't turn and look him in the face, she didn't need to, to feel the wave of disappointment and hurt radiate from him. The times they were left alone together were rare and usually not missed, but he didn't try and change her mind, he merely made his excuses and headed to bed himself, leaving Marguerite alone to stare out at the now clear night sky.
To Be Continued………..
Disclaimer: As always the characters and setting of the Lost World belong to the New Line etc. I'm just borrowing them, I promise to give them back when I've done. Yes! all of them (has fingers crossed that no one notices a certain hunter is missing), well except the characters I create, they're mine!!
Author's notes:
Tara: Hi, well this started out as my first fan fic, but a wonderful person decided to both inspire and join me on this new adventure into the lost world, yep you've guessed it my partner in crime (and writing!!) Kat. As always guys, any and all feedback is welcomed and encouraged!!
Kat: Although I didn't work on the first part, I'm now very honored to be allowed to help with the rest; I promise to do my best
Summary: A thunderous storms heralds the arrival of new visitors to the Plateau, but not all is well with the occupants of the Tree house.
Chapter 1
It was late at night in the jungle; the tree house perched high in the safety of trees, soft lights glowing bright against the enveloping dark of the night. Its occupants, who would usually be sound asleep in their rooms, were awake, kept up by the thunderous roar of wind and deafening, all too often clashes of thunder and lightening, choosing to enjoy each others company then suffer a sleepless night in their rooms alone.
All except for Challenger, who busied himself in his laboratory, the lightening seeming to bring on it's own flashes of inspiration in the Professors brilliant mind, he had retired from the group, muttering excitedly under his breathe and dashing down the stairs out of sight.
Ned as always, was sat at the table, a journal at hand, several candles arranged around him, giving off a soft but bright glow over his writings and the rest of the room. He sat, face pensive, gaze staring distantly off at nothing in particular, until the words, his mind was searching for finally pleased him enough to write down. The pattern had continued for a few hours now, long spaces of silence and far away looks followed by brief moments of hurried writing, only go to back to the familiar silence and still as his mind searched for the next paragraph of his story.
Veronica sat happily reading one of her parent journals, occasionally stealing a glance at the young reporter, it never ceased to amaze her the relish and joy with which his writing bought. She didn't doubt that he was busy at work on his latest instalment of their adventures together. The last six months had had more then their fair share of adventure, danger and excitement. Not every experience a pleasant one but all worthy of any novelists skills.
She often found herself reading his journals of their past adventures and was always struck by the way he described their exploits, keeping to the truth of the situations, very rarely embellishing but always seeming to describe the events with an enthusiasm that grabbed hold of the reader and left them no choice but to greedily eat up the passages and chapters.
In the long months of his time missing in the spirit world they were all that had kept her hope alive. His joy in life was plain to see in his writing and someone with that kind of energy wouldn't go quietly. It didn't surprise her to find out that he had often been with them in spirit, watching over his friends, watching over her as she prayed and hoped for his return.
Another thunderously load flash of lightening dragged her attention from her thoughts, as lit up the room with a blinding light, leaving the after images plastered against her eyelids, and eliciting a tiny almost in audible gasps from the only other lady of the house, almost unnoticeable, but not quite.
Marguerite sat huddled up by the fire, a blanket pulled about her shoulders, a miserable sour expression marring her beautiful, dark curl, framed features, staring miserable at the flames. She hated thunder storms, the sudden violent noise and flashes of light bringing back too many memories of times alone, cold and wet, suffering the worst of the weather out in the open, running or hiding. She would have gone to bed hours ago and found peace in sleep away from the memories, but the storm was impossibly violent and as much as she didn't want to admit and would never show it, it scared the hell out of her, the only comfort the silent presences of her friends. Even if one of them was yet again angry with her, or more likely hurt.
It pained her, remembering the icy words that had tumbled from her mouth earlier that evening, the first rumblings of thunder bringing the cold stab of fear in her chest, butterflies finding a home in the pit of her stomach and as always the damned man had sensed it almost before she had. Gently trying to be comforting and coax the reasons for her sudden fear out in the open. A part of her would have gladly told him, but another knew that once one secret was out, the others would soon follow, and the dark terrors of her past were something she was definitely not ready to share, even with the man she loved.
Marguerite had denied it of course, the fear making her tongue sharper then usual, turning their little teases to a more heated debate, which had finally exploded in her face. Sometimes she didn't know if she was in control at those moments, hurtful words seemed to flow naturally to her tongue, by-passing her head and heart. If only he knew how deep those bloody accusing eyes of his cut, when she had finally said something that had gone one step too far. He would always stop then and as always she would have the last word. But he didn't need any to win, the look he gave her spoke volumes in hurt and pain.
Marguerite tore her gaze away from the dancing flames of the fire to stare at the tall, lean object of her thoughts, his broad shoulders and narrow waist silhouetted against a sudden flash of lightening.
Roxton stood at the balcony, leaning against the post supporting the roof, silently starring out at the turbulent night time jungle, his dark green eyes locked on some unseen object out in the distance, his mind free to wonder other places. He didn't even have to look into the room; at the women he secretly loved and know she was frightened. The moment the rain had begin to pour and the distant rumble of thunder start, then the fiery Miss Krux had become suddenly irritable and snappy, something that only seemed to happen lately if she was annoyed or frightened.
And as usual, whenever she was frightened she pushed him away. As if scared to admit the weakness and sensing he would know it the moment they came close. Verbal sparring had erupted into a full blown argument, which had resulted in both of them finding their own separate corners of the room, both silently sulking, contemplating the harsh words exchanged and instantly regretted, but both too stubborn to admit it. He knew without a doubt now that she had feelings for him, her actions spoke louder then words ever could, and he was sure she knew he felt the same, but neither had found the courage to admit it, both happy to dance their little dance between tenderness and passion or hurt and anger. Neither was ready to admit their feelings and until they were the dance would continue.
Not that he didn't enjoy it, the hunter in him relished the challenge, the exhilaration and joy he felt whenever he finally got a pleasing reaction from her, a blinding smile or stolen kiss, were the moments he lived for. But they would never last, as all good things seemed to do. One minute they would be enjoying each others company, sometimes even an intimate moment, the things he lived for most of all, then suddenly the perfect moment would fall apart with an interruption or more often an argument. She never ceased to amaze him with the way she so easier hurt him to the core, he was like a toy in her hands, as easy for her to hurt as bring joy to. She had an all- consuming power over him and more then a little, it terrified him.
But that was what drew him to Marguerite, a woman of 'Fire and Steel' he had called her in those early days together. Someone to be fought for with deeds not words. A woman whose heart would take every ounce of his strength and will to capture, a prize worth fighting for and something the hunter was not about to give up on anytime soon. He hadn't come this far and gotten this close to give up now, even if it took the rest of his life to accomplish his goal he would win her heart as completely as she commanded his.
Sighing deeply he pulled his mind away from thoughts of Marguerite, at times like these, when they were not on the best of terms frustration was the only result. Besides something on the edges of his senses was bothering him, closing his eyes he let years of experience take over, letting his instincts guide his mind. It took a few moments but he finally discovered the thing that was bothering him, a soft buzzing noise, a buzzing that sounded too metallic to be natural and it was growing louder.
It took a few moments for the realisation to dawn on the hunter before he realised the sound he heard was that of an engine. Opening his eyes he darted to the edge of the balcony, out into the downpour, his sudden movements startling the rest of his companions.
Marguerite was first up out of her seat, having been silently observing him and joining him at the balcony, although she stayed back under the protection of the roof, from the torrential rain that had already soaked Roxton through to the skin in the few seconds he had been out in it, his clothing becoming transparent and clinging to his skin. Usually the sight would have been something Marguerite would have taken time to admire, the briefest glimpses of this man's flesh eliciting almost over powering feelings within her, on this occasion however she was far more interested in his sudden decision for a shower.
"Roxton what the hell do you think your doing?? Come back in before…" She was going to say 'get drenched through', but that was already too late and besides that he was absently waving at her to be quiet while his eyes searched the sky for something unseen or heard. She didn't like being both ignored or waved silent, her back going straight up, her miserable mood very happy to take up the hunter with another round of verbal boxing.
Ned and Veronica were beside her seconds later followed by Challengers, having heard the suddenly scraping of chairs on the ceiling and thuds as the group ran to the window.
"What is it? What's wrong?" He asked huffing a little from his exertion of sprinting up the stairs to the living room.
Ned shook his head, for one brief moment and by Marguerites reaction he thought Roxton had taken leave of his senses and thrown himself from the balcony. "I don't know", he told Challenger honestly, "Ask Roxton!" He told the scientist.
"Roxton?" Challenger asked the younger man, only to be waved quiet also; it was obvious he was more listening then looking for the object of his attentions.
The little group stood huddled under the cover of the roof, leaving the hunter to the rain until Ned finally heard the strange noise too and joined Roxton at the railing, searching the heavy clouded, pitch-black sky.
"That sounds like an engine!" He exclaimed excitedly, shouting over the noise of the storm, "An aircraft engine!" That got the others attention who all rushed to the railing, heedless of the downpour to help search the sky for the source of the noise. The buzzing, hum of the engine now clear against the roar of wind and claps of thunder, but the source still out of sight.
Suddenly out of nowhere an aircraft erupted from over the distant tree tops, impossibly low, almost skimming the tops of the tress, catching a few of the taller ones, sending branches and foliage crashing to the jungle floor below. A sudden flash of lightening illuminated it for one, brief moment, showing it to be of a design the explorers had never before seen. The aircraft made it's way over the tree house, so low the explorers involuntarily ducked, even though the tree top and plane were well above them, as suddenly as it had appeared the plane was gone again, the rumble of engine slowly declining until nothing could be heard over the sounds of the storm.
The explorers stood agape for moments, silently starring off in the direction the plane had disappeared, before coming to their senses, the action over, realising the soaked mess they all were and dashed back into the cover of the tree house's roof.
Ned was almost bouncing he was so excited. The image of the plane stood out in his mind, he had had contact with all manner of aircraft during his time in the war but the plane was of a design he had never seen before and what was most startling was it's lack of any visible propellers.
Challengers was already well ahead of him. "Did you see that?" He exclaimed almost as excited as the young reporter. Stupid question was written, as a response, all over Marguerites face, although she kept her mouth shut not trusting herself to speak.
Ned jumped in, "I spent a lot of time around all manner of aircraft during the war but I've never seen one like that before! What about you Roxton?"
The Hunter shook his head and replied. " I can honestly say I have never seen one quite like that before either Neddy boy." He grinned as he answered, his earlier dark mood forgotten. The reporter was beside himself with barely contained enthusiasm and excitement and it always tickled Roxton to see the young man like this.
"It didn't see any propellers" Challenger joined in, as usual straight into the details, " and it was of a single wing design". Challenger's enthusiasm was almost as exuberant as Ned in his own way.
"Well whether it has propeller's or how many bloody wings it has isn't really of much use to us if its gone is it?" Marguerite stated irritation evident in her voice.
"Well it was low so that's got to mean it was landing or trying to land right?" Ned interjected ignoring Marguerite's tone of voice.
"That's if it wasn't in trouble and was in the process of crashing" She shot back at him, knocking a little of the wind out of his sails and quieting him.
Then his eye's lit up again and he was already moving towards the door before he said "Well why don't we go find out! It looked like it was heading for the clearing!" He was already in the process of strapping on his gun belt when Roxton the voice of reason spoke up.
"Hold on Neddy by, not really a good idea to go traipsing round the jungle in the middle of night" His grin widened as he saw the sheepish look creep across Ned's features as realisation struck.
"Roxton's right Ned, best wait to the morning when the storm has passed" Challenger added, although by the looks of him Roxton saw Challenger would have eagerly followed Ned out into the jungle.
Veronica stayed quiet throughout the whole little moment of excitement and it's aftermath, moments like these always made her sad. It never stopped hurting the way in which the others seemed to get excited whenever an opportunity arose that might offer them a way home. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn't help but feel hurt at their enthusiasm to leave the place she considered her home. Ned noticed her expression and whatever was left of his early excitement was washed away by the look she gave him. Without giving Ned the opportunity to speak she finally spoke up.
"It looks like the storm is finally breaking, so I'm off to bed". With that she turned on her heals and left the room without a backwards glance. The other immediately saw her discomfort, a look of recognition and shame passing between them.
"I think Veronica has the right idea, I'm off to bed too," with that Ned hung his gun belt back on the stand and headed towards his room but stopped and added, "I'll need all my rest for tomorrow" smiling in spite of himself before disappearing from the room.
Challenger bid his goodnights too and headed down the stairs to his own room, leaving Marguerite and Roxton alone in the living room together.
The raven-haired heiress had moved to stand by the balcony once more, starring out at the rapidly clearing night sky. As soon as the plane had passed overhead, the wind had dropped and the thunder began to roll away, a detail that was lost on all but Marguerite it seemed. A sense of deja'vu was already teasing at the edges of her memory and a sense of foreboding beginning to settle in her stomach. Something about tonight's events was not sitting well with the heiress and it had nothing to do with the argument earlier. She was startled from her musings by a hand on her shoulder as Roxton gently replaced the blanket she had dropped dashing to the balcony.
She hadn't even realised she'd been stood with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, trying to keep the warmth in, her drenched clothes and the cool night breeze creating a chill. She tried to ignore him, still angry from the night's earlier events and didn't turn and look him in the face, she didn't need to, to feel the wave of disappointment and hurt radiate from him. The times they were left alone together were rare and usually not missed, but he didn't try and change her mind, he merely made his excuses and headed to bed himself, leaving Marguerite alone to stare out at the now clear night sky.
To Be Continued………..