For three days the pattern continued. Roxton would leave before Marguerite awoke and return only after she fell asleep.

The grey eyed beauty had had enough of the solitude. She hated being alone; hated it and although she would never admit it, feared it.

When night fell, she didn't bother with either lamps or candles. She seated herself in a chair facing the elevator and prepared for a long wait. She dozed off after several hours and was awakened by the rising elevator.

Lord Roxton walked quietly to the gun rack and placed his weapons and hat in their respective places. Then he slipped off his boots and carried them as he headed toward the stairs. It was only then that he realized someone else was in the room. Startled, he dropped his boots. A loud thud echoed through the silent tree house.

"John," Marguerite started, but he interrupted her.

"Not now, Marguerite," he retrieved his boots and resumed his trek to the stairs, "it's late."

"Please, John, talk to me." she begged.

"That is quite the change," he replied. "How many times have you refused to talk to me?"

"I never avoided you for days on end," she answered.

He turned back. Even in the dim moon light, the hurt on her face was evident. He put the boots down and retraced his steps. He had been so preoccupied with his own pain that he hadn't taken into account how much he had been hurting her. He stopped a few feet in front of her. Not knowing what to say, he waited for her to speak.

"I know why you have been avoiding me."

He could not meet her eyes as guilt assailed him afresh.

"I'm a constant reminder that you made the wrong choice."

His head snapped up. "Marguerite…."

"There is more than enough guilt to go around," the beautiful adventuress said quietly, "I'm alive and Challenger died. The most brilliant man of our time is dead, and you saved a nobody."

"Don't say that, never even think that."

"It's true, even more than you know. I wasn't worth Challenger's life." Roxton tried to break in, but she continued, "I don't blame you for regretting your choice."

"Stop it," his voice began to rise as he stepped forward and took hold of her upper arms, "You don't understand."

Nodding, she said, "but I do, John, you made the wrong choice and now we both have to live with it."

"No," he exclaimed, "There was no choice."

"I don't…" she looked at him in confusion.

"Do you really think I could ever leave you to die in order save anyone else…anyone?"

She tried to study his face in the meager light.

Shaking his head, Roxton let go of his beloved and turned away. "There was never a choice, there was never any choice at all. I am much too selfish to have saved Challenger and let anything happen to you. Don't you see, I had to save you. I'd have sacrificed anyone to save you!"

With a sob in her voice, Marguerite said, "And now you're sorry you did."

"No," he assured her, "never. But don't you see? It should have been harder. Harder to leave… Harder to…" He ran his hand through his dark brown hair. This was so difficult to explain. "There should have been some thought of.…I did want to save both of you. I hoped…I tried…" his voice broke, "but I couldn't."

"John," she pleaded as she reached out to touch him. Her fingers lightly touched his forearm.

His voice quieted as he said, "I couldn't save Summerlee, or Veronica," his words were barely audible as he added, "or William." He took a deep breath, then continued, "And now Challenger is added to my list of failures. They trusted me to protect them and I let them down. I let them all down."

"No, " she assured him, "no, you have saved us all many times. She gently squeezed the hunter's arm. "Besides, Veronica will be back and for all we know, Summerlee may already be in London." In a softer voice she continued, "Your brother was killed by an ape. You didn't fail him; it wasn't your fault – none of them were. Please, John. You hold yourself to too high a standard. You are only human, after all. It's time you forgave yourself."

"I don't deserve you," he said in response.

Misunderstanding, Marguerite nodded and whispered, "You deserve much better." Devastated, the heiress pulled her hand away and started to leave.

He grasped her hand as it fell and they stood face to face. "No, I really do not deserve… You are everything I have every wanted, everything. But I failed you too. I can't give you what you want most. I can't get you off of this bloody plateau."

"You have never failed me."

"I let the only man who could get us home die."

With her free hand, she reached up and smoothed the hair from his face, "then we stay here," in a whisper she added, "together."

He cupped her face in his hands, "I can't lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

"Marguerite, I…"

Quickly, she placed her fingers against his lips, "No, please."

Studying her grey-green eyes which shone even in the darkness, he could see that even though she wouldn't allow him to say the words, she felt the same as he. He bent and pressed his lips to hers. She responded instantly, parting her lips and pressing her body against his. He held her tightly. His arms felt at home as they encircled her. His tender kiss grew demanding and Marguerite sighed in contented surrender. Scooping her into his arms, Roxton carried her to the stairs and down to her bedroom.