Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters! :)
They trudged through the jungle silently - each of them to exhausted for words. Veronica was in the lead, but even she was moving slowly. The profound heat was making the trek back to the tree house extremely difficult. Lord John Roxton sighed. He was remarkably thirsty and had run out of water. As if on cue, Marguerite turned around and lifted her canteen in silent offering. Roxton blinked, startled for a second, before he gratefully took the canteen and drank. He handed it back with a smile, and Marguerite took it wordlessly. Roxton studied the slender, beautiful woman in front of him as they hiked on. Even filthy, covered in grime and sweat, she looked stunning to him. Her dark hair was pulled back in a braid, but several strands had become loose, framing her delicate face. Her blouse was soaked and clinging to her body, making her curves all the more noticeable. Her waist was so small, he was sure he could fit his hands around it. Of course, he mused, if he tried to find out she would probably hit him.
Suddenly, Ned tripped over a small root and fell.
"Ned! Are you all right?" asked Veronica, as she bent down to help him up.
"Fine," Ned mumbled, embarrassed. "Just tired, that's all."
"We all are. I think we should find some shade and rest a moment before any of us get heat exhaustion," Challenger said.
No one disagreed, for they all needed a break. They headed for a large tree and immediately sat on the ground in silence, too tired for words. Roxton looked over at Marguerite, and noticed a dark curl sticking to her forehead. Without thinking, he reached over and gently brushed it back with his fingertip. All at once, he realized what he was doing and abruptly dropped his hand, readying himself for an angry retort from Marguerite. To his amazement, she merely looked at him with surprise, and offered him a small, nervous smile, then turned away. Roxton grinned broadly, and despite the heat, was in wonderful mood the rest of the trip back to the treehouse.
After they dropped off their supplies and Challenger's stupid rocks, the group unanimously agreed to a swim. All the others immediately dove into the water, but Marguerite sat on a rock, with her legs dangling in the water. Roxton, still in an incredibly sunny mood, dove into the water, firmly grabbed Marguerite's legs, and pulled her under. She came up, sputtering angrily, but after looking at Roxton's boyish grin, she burst into laughter.
Roxton's grin grew wider, and he offered her his hand. "All in good fun, right?"
"Right," Marguerite said with a laugh, before splashing him in the face.
After awhile, the others were ready to head back, but Marguerite wanted to stay longer.
"Go ahead," Roxton said. "I'll stay with her."
Roxton sat watching Marguerite swim until she climbed up onto the rock to sit beside him. She looked breathtaking. Her eyes were bright and sparkling and her skin was glowing.
They sat in companionable silence. When he looked away for a moment, she shyly stole a glance at him. He was so strong and handsome. His shoulders were broad and his stomach, back, and arms were covered in muscles. He looked so sure and capable - like he could handle anything. And his eyes... they were so deep and expressive. Sometimes, just sometimes, when she caught him staring at her, she could almost pretend that he loved her. Then she would realize what she was thinking and catch herself. She would never open her heart to anyone, especially a man. If she let him have her, he wouldn't want her anymore after that. Or, worse yet, he would use her and then abandon her and take everything she left once they returned to England. Occasionally, she thought that she might be mistaken, that Lord Roxton was different. But if she opened her heart to him, she would have to tell him everything, and if that happened, she thought with a sigh, she very much doubted he would love her anymore. There were, she decided, doors that were better left unopened. But she could still let herself pretend...
Roxton turned around, catching her staring at him. His eyes locked onto hers, and she turned away, embarrassed. "Don't," he whispered, turning her face back around and tracing it with the tip of his finger.
"Roxton," Marguerite said timidly, her voice shaking. "I don't think..."
"Shhhh," he muttered, letting his fingers trail down her elegant neck. "Don't think." As he leaned in closer, letting his lips lightly brush hers, they were startled by the sound of someone's throat clearing. They both jumped, turning around to Ned and Veronica grinning sheepishly.
"Dinner's ready," Ned said, "if you want to head on back." He and Veronica turned and left, as quickly as they came.
"Thanks," Roxton said sarcastically, turning back around, but the moment was gone. Marguerite was standing up, preparing to follow Ned and Veronica. "Wait," Roxton said, grabbing Marguerite's wrist, but she twisted away and walked back to the treehouse. "Damn...," he said angrily. He had been so close, so close to breaking though some of her damned defenses. Not for the first time, he wondered what had happened to her to make her so untrusting and aloof.
Just as Ned and Veronica had said, dinner was sitting on the table. Everyone was famished and quickly ate. After they finished, Veronica said, "I think I'll head over to the Zanga village. If I leave now, I'll make it before nightfall. Assai said there is a large celebration and I wanted to go. Anyone else up for it?"
"I'll go!" Ned said eagerly.
Roxton looked at Ned and discretely winked, as Ned blushed. "Truthfully," Roxton said, "I'm not really up for it. I think I'll stay here."
"Challenger? Marguerite?" Veronica asked.
"I'm with Roxton. I'm not ready for anymore hiking," Marguerite said.
"Actually," Challenger said, "I'm always interested in learning about the local customs. If it's okay with you two," he said, looking at Marguerite and Roxton, "I think I'll join Ned and Veronica."
Roxton smiled at the thought of being alone with Marguerite, and started to say it was fine with him, until Marguerite blurted out, "But Challenger, aren't you tired? Why don't you stay? We can listen to records or something or... or... something."
Challenger looked at Marguerite, puzzled. "My dear, what's wrong?"
"I just didn't want to spend the night alone, that's all." Suddenly, she realized what she had said and saw Roxton smirking at her suggestively, and she flushed and glared at him angrily.
"But I'll be here. I'm not that bad a fellow, am I?" Roxton asked.
"Whatever..." Marguerite muttered as she stormed off to her room. "Roxton, you go too. It's not like I care what any of you do anyway."
"Uh-oh," Ned whispered. "Are you sure you want to stay, Roxton?"
"I think I'll be able to handle it," Roxton said, inwardly grimacing, as he uttered a goodbye to the others. He knew he shouldn't have looked at her like that after her "spending the night alone" remark, but hell, he had just been teasing her. Sometimes she just couldn't take a joke. It seemed like ever time he gained a step, like at the lake that afternoon, he ended up taking two steps back. He was trying to be patient. In fact, he felt he was more than patient. He had put up with more than any sane man could handle. But he was rapidly running out of patience. *What the hell was wrong with that woman?* he thought. As always, he didn't know if he wanted to kiss her or strangle her.
Marguerite was sitting on her bench, glaring angrily into the mirror. She was tired and annoyed, and she just wanted to go to bed. She sighed *No one could ever really love her* She wondered why. She had not been a horrible child, not that she could remember anyway. She had always wondered what made her parents hate her. Other children had never been exceptionally fond of her, so she spent all her spare time studying, trying to learn as much as she could, hoping to make her parents proud. They never spent enough time with her to notice... But she could, she mused, thank them for everything she knew. She had never quite found out what was wrong with her... It was just something she had grown to accept with time. And it wasn't just her parents. She had never had any female friends, and men... They either wanted to sleep with or wanted her money. And many times they had wanted both. She knew she was meant to be alone." Stupid, stupid, stupid," she mumbled. She was stupid for even letting herself think that he could possible care about her, that he could possibly be different. He was just like every other man. The only reason he was probably still pursuing her was because she had refused him. "No," was something she was sure Lord Roxton had never heard before. Well, she refused to be another name to add to his list of conquests. She would never let another man use her for anything, ever again. She had vowed she would die first. She picked up her brush and began to angrily untangle her thick curls before she went to bed.
Roxton was pacing around the living room. He was tired of this game. He loved Marguerite. He knew she felt something for him too, he just knew it. He doubted he would get a chance like this - a night alone with her - for awhile, and he refused to waste it. He was going to talk to her and demand to know where they were going to go with this little game they had been playing and he was going to find out how she felt about him. *And this time, she wasn't going to evade his questions either* he thought.
He walked up to Marguerite's room. Any anger he was still holding on to vanished as he entered the room. She stood as he came in, and his breath caught in his chest. She looked like an angel. She was wearing her long, white nightgown and had her hair loose, making her eyes look even wider. Standing there in her bare feet, she looked so young and innocent, like a little child.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously as he stepped closer towards her. "What do you want?" she asked him.
"Just to talk. Look, I'm sorry about earlier. Please forgive me. I was just teasing you," Roxton said apologetically.
Her face softened, despite her attempts to stay mad. "Well, I suppose I forgive you. Maybe I overreacted just a little bit and... are you listening to me, Roxton? What are you looking at?"
"You..." he breathed softly.
She backed up a little. "Why?" she asked suspiciously. "What do you want from me? Don't look at me like that."
"Marguerite," he sighed, exasperated. "I don't want anything from you, other than maybe a little trust."
"I trust you," she said, still backing away from him.
"Do you?" he asked softly. "Then why are you moving farther and farther away from me?"
She realized she was indeed still moving away from him, and quickly sat down on her bench and began to brush her hair again. She looked down, not looking at herself in the mirror and definitely not looking at him. She felt him standing behind her, she could feel him looking at her.
He caught her hand and gently took her brush from her. "Let me..." he said, as he sat next to her and began to brush her hair. Against her better judgment, she let him. After all, she told herself, it didn't mean anything, and it did feel good to relax for a minute and lean against him... Suddenly, she realized he had put the brush down and was running one hand through her hair, while slowly brushing his other hand along her arm. She felt his lips at her neck, traveling slowly toward her shoulder, and she stiffened noticeably.
She could feel his warm breath in her ear, hear him whisper, "Relax."
"Roxton, I mean John, I mean... I can't... Please, stop now," she said, her voice wavering.
"Marguerite... It's..."
"No more," she interrupted softly, muttering more to herself than to him. "No more men using me," she finished, too quietly for him to hear.
"No more what, darling?" he asked gently.
That caught her by surprise, and she looked at him curiously. "Darling," she repeated speechlessly. "No one has ever said that to me before."
He felt his gut twist from her innocent, simple statement. *No one had ever called her "darling" before? That was impossible* he thought, looking at her. "Marguerite," he paused, then continued, "I don't know what had made you so untrusting, but I promise you, I want nothing from you... I just want you? Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes," she whispered, almost so softly he wasn't sure she had spoken.
He sat behind her and began massaging the tense muscles in her neck. "Trust me," he said, "Trust me, I promise..." His voice trailed off, as he turned her around. He brought his face down and began to brush his lips against hers. He pressed his lips gently against hers, softly at first, then more passionately. He felt her begin to respond and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. When the kiss grew too intense, Marguerite pulled away slightly, gasping for breath. He looked at her, and she could see his smile reflected in his eyes. *How strange* she thought. She had never before met a man with such kind eyes. She had long ago learned how to read people's faces. She could look into their eyes, know what they wanted from her. But Roxton... she could only see kindness in his eyes, and she honestly had no idea what he wanted, and that was why he made her so nervous. But maybe, just maybe, he really was different. Could he really love her?
He looked at her, and could see her wariness in her eyes. He knew that she wanted him, that she cared about him too. His brow wrinkled slightly. She looked almost afraid... Of what? Afraid of him? He brushed that thought aside. He was being stupid. He smiled at her and began to trace her collarbone with his fingertips. His hand lowered slightly, and he softly stroked the swell of her breast. She breathed in shakily and placed a hand on his muscular chest. She could feel his heart beating quickly, could hear his sharp intake of breath as he bent down to lightly kiss her.
"God, you're beautiful..." he whispered, his warm breath tickling her chest. As he leaned back up to kiss her lips again, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her, tentatively slipping her tongue between his lips. He uttered a low moan, and scooped her into his arms, laying her on the bed. "Please," he whispered. "Please let me love you."
Marguerite looked at him. Perhaps, just this once, she could forget about everything else and could let him love her, if only for a night... Even if it wasn't true, she could pretend it was. She nodded, pulled him down beside her, and let him love her.
******************
She was in the room, and she could hear him yelling, feel him hitting her, she looked at his cold eyes and say that he wanted her. She could see herself fall onto her knees, could hear her voice, begging, "Please no. Not tonight, please." She heard him laugh, and felt him pull her against him. She was screaming... Not again...
******************
"Marguerite!! Marguerite!!" She heard someone calling her name, felt someone shaking her, and she swung her arms in front of her, violently. Roxton caught her hands and pulled her close to him. She was shaking in his arms. "Marguerite, wake up! It's okay, you're all right! You were dreaming."
She realized she was in the dark, in her bed, and in Roxton's arms... "It wasn't real. It wasn't real," she repeated over and over again.
"That's right," he said tenderly, smoothing her hair. She was still shaking, and he pulled her tightly against him, concerned. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"NO!" she said, firmly. She laid back down, and he pulled her toward him. All of a sudden, she saw him instead of Roxton and she froze and pulled away, turning onto her side. She knew it was stupid, and she knew it was Roxton, but still... She was stupid and should have known better than to try and get involved with anyone. She thought it would be different, but the demons would still be there. She knew they would always be there... She truly cared for Roxton, but she was so afraid. She waited until she heard Roxton's deep, even breathing, and slipped out of bed. She walked out to the balcony and stood there, alone. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Everything would be fine. She would have to tell him that it was all a mistake in the morning.
Roxton awoke with a smile the next morning and turned over, reaching for Marguerite. He opened his eyes, and saw that she was gone. He got up and walked out of the room. When he couldn't find her in the tree house, he went onto the balcony. He saw her, curled into a ball, asleep next to the railing. "What the hell?" he said. He went over to her and picked her up. He carried her into her, laid her down, and covered her with a blanket. He would ask her about it later.
He was in the kitchen, whistling and making breakfast, when Malone, Veronica, and Challenger returned home. "Hello! Have a good time?" he asked cheerfully.
"Someone's in a good mood!" Challenger observed. "Where's Marguerite?"
"Still getting her beauty sleep, I believe," Roxton remarked, then turned. "Ah-ha. There's sleeping beauty now!"
Marguerite looked pale and tired, and her eyes had dark smudges underneath them. If Roxton noticed, he gave no indication of it, and happily set her breakfast in front of her. She pushed the food around for a few minutes before abruptly standing up and declaring she wasn't hungry. She turned and left the others staring after her.
"What's wrong with her?" asked Malone.
"I don't know," said Roxton, frowning. He hoped she wasn't beginning to regret what had happened. He had to talk to her... alone.
Marguerite threw herself onto her bed. It hurt too much to see him, smiling and whistling. She couldn't tell him. Perhaps, if she just ignored him, he would realize that it was a mistake. She would have to be strong. It would work. It had to work.
Roxton was growing increasingly frustrated. All his attempts to speak to Marguerite privately had failed. She had purposely never been alone with him the whole week, since that night. He was sure of it. Whenever he tried to touch her, she stiffened and backed away. She had either spoken coldly to him or ignored him whenever he talked to her. He had no idea what was wrong - especially since she wouldn't even look him in the eyes. He hadn't even gotten to find out why she was sleeping on the balcony. "What the hell is wrong the that woman?" he asked aloud. Well, he was going to find out, today, he decided. He would get her by herself, and talk to her, even if he had to drag her away. He saw her standing by the elevator, and turned. "Marguerite, I need to..."
"Come along, Challenger. Are you ready to go?" Marguerite interrupted.
"Marguerite..." Roxton said, his voice low, "I was trying to..."
"Challenger, come on!!" said Marguerite, as she climbed into the elevator and left.
Challenger looked at Roxton and patted his shoulder, while Malone and Veronica smiled sympathetically. They had all noticed Marguerite's cold treatment. "Don't worry about. I'm sure it's just one of her moods. At any rate, I'll try to talk to her about it," Challenger said as he turned to followed Marguerite.
Challenger walked rapidly to keep up with Marguerite's furious pace. When he finally reached her, he gasped out, "Would you slow down a minute? What's wrong?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. I'm just in a hurry to help you map out this plateau, that's all," Marguerite said.
"Marguerite, stop a minute. My dear, you are obviously upset about something. All of us have noticed your behavior this week toward Roxton. He was trying to talk to you when you ran out. He doesn't understand what's going on. He was quite upset. Did you two fight about something? You can talk to me, you know. What's going on?"
"Nothing. I just, well, nothing. I don't want to talk about it."
"All right, but if you change your mind..."
"I'll let you know," Marguerite said.
Roxton stood, gripping the railing tightly with his hands. He was absolutely furious. She had no right to treat him that way, especially in front of all the others. He wondered if she was even worth the trouble, then he remembered the way she felt in his arms, the way she kissed him. Damn, but she was worth it. Of course, he had no idea if she would ever speak to him again, so whether or not she was worth it seemed to be a moot point at the moment. He glared out into the trees. He could not remember the last time he had been so mad. He picked up his gun and stormed out.
"Roxton, where are you going?" Veronica called.
"To talk to Marguerite!" he yelled angrily. He caught up to Marguerite and Challenger quite easily and walked up to them.
"Well, Lord John Roxton. To what do we owe the honor?" asked Marguerite, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Roxton's eyes narrowed dangerously. He glared at Marguerite, and without turning his head, said, "Challenger, leave us."
"Certainly," Challenger muttered, glad to be leaving. "I'll be at the treehouse."
"George!" Marguerite said sharply, turning to follow him.
"Marguerite, stop," said Roxton.
"Excuse me, my Lord," Marguerite said, dropping a curtsey, "But I will do exactly what I please, and that does not include being in your presence." Marguerite tried to walk away from him, and Roxton reached out to grab her hand.
Roxton laughed harshly, and said in a very low voice, "You, my delightful Miss Krux, will stay." Marguerite tried to pull away, but he refused to let her go. "We are going to talk about this!" he demanded.
Marguerite tried to keep herself from panicking. She had never seen him like this before. "I have nothing to say to you! Let go of me, NOW!"
"Calm down, my dear Marguerite!" Roxton said, his face growing harder by the second. "You will answer my questions, and then you are free to go. What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you going out of your way to ignore me, and what the hell were you doing sleeping out on the balcony that morning? What did I do to you?" Roxton said, his voice losing his anger and taking on a pleading tone. "Please, I love..." At those words, Marguerite's attempts to escape grew even more frantic. "Look, I know you love me too," he said, trying to pull her closer to him.
Marguerite closed her eyes. Her was her chance, she knew she had to take it. She drew a deep breath, and opened her eyes to look Roxton in the face. "Love," she said, her laugh an angry, ugly sound. "You mistake that for love? Come on, Lord Roxton. I would think that you, of all people, would know what meaningless sex is. I'm certain it is something that you, as well as I, engaged in it numerous times back in jolly old England!"
Roxton looked at her searchingly. "No. I don't believe you. I know it meant more to you than that."
"Please. I knew it was what you wanted, and at the moment, I wanted it to. The silly flirtation was starting to become a distraction, so I ended the distraction. That is all. Don't tell me you actually thought I cared about YOU?" Marguerite said. *Oh God, this is harder than I thought. I have to stay strong. I have to do this* she thought.
"Marguerite, I love you!"
"Well, that is quite unfortunate because I do not return those sentiments," Marguerite said, staring at him.
"Could you tell me why, at least, so I can tell you why you are wrong?"
Marguerite breathed deeply. This was it. She had put the knife in, now she had to twist it. She told herself that self-preservation had to come first, then said, "You really expect me to love and trust you? Trust someone who kills his own brother? Ha! I was merely looking for some entertainment, and at the moment, no other men were around, and THAT is all."
Roxton closed his eyes tightly. He felt sick to his stomach. He opened his eyes and saw Marguerite smirking at him. His hand involuntarily tightened around her wrist and he began to pull her closer toward him. Marguerite reacted like a small, caged animal and bit him. He pulled his hand back and slapped her. "You bitch," he said coldly. Marguerite's head snapped back and she stared at him but didn't move. "You are no better than a common whore," he whispered as he dropped her hand and walked off.
Marguerite stood absolutely still until he was out of site, and then collapsed onto the ground. He was right, about all of it. She hung her head, and felt a tear fall down her cheek. She angrily brushed it away. She had never cried, even during the worse times. She could thank him for that. He had never liked it when she cried. He had laughed and called her weak. Well, he was right about that, at least. Only weak people cried, and she had never allowed herself to cry since then. And anyway, it was all true. She was a common whore, if not worse. He was trying to insult her, but he'd had no idea how close to the truth he actually was. "Oh Roxton," she sighed, "How could you have guessed?" She was so sorry for the hurt she had seen in his face, but she knew it was the only way. She stayed there, with her arms wrapped tightly around her, rocking herself back and forth. She was afraid to return to the treehouse, and she didn't know how to face Roxton. Well, she would have to do it sometime, she thought. She picked herself up, straightened her skirts, and with a heavy heart, walked back.
Roxton leaned up against a tree, breathing hard. His eyes tightly shut, hoping it would also shut out the truth. "Damn!" he yelled, turning to punch the tree with his fist. He couldn't believe he hit her. She would never forgive him, and he would never forgive himself. Well, not that it mattered after what she'd told him. He felt he go quite a long time without seeing her face... Besides the fact that she'd hurt him deeply, he was mortified that he'd allowed himself to strike her. He'd never hit a woman - ever. She was, most definitely, he decided, the most cold-hearted bitch he'd ever known. But she didn't deserve to be hit. He stayed there a long time, trying to stall his return to the treehouse as long as possible. What she'd said... his brother... She was right. He was careless and stupid. She was right not to trust him. He decided to get it all over with, and turned to walk slowly back to the treehouse.
He walked into the treehouse and saw the others sitting there, then he turned and saw Marguerite, her face turned away from him. "Fine! If this is how you want to be, go ahead!" he yelled at her, before stomping to his room and slamming the door. The others stared after him, then turned to Marguerite.
"Don't even think about saying anything. I don't care what any of you think!" she said, before also storming off.
Veronica, Challenger, and Malone stood there, looking at each other with silently.
The mood remained the same in the treehouse for the next week or so. Marguerite and Roxton were in horrible moods, spouting off hurtful, sarcastic comments to each other, or blatantly ignoring the fact that the other even existed. Any attempt to lighten the mood was met with silence, and Marguerite and Roxton had vented their frustrations on the Challenger, Malone, and Veronica on more than one occasion. After another angry comment from Marguerite directed toward the unsuspecting Malone, Veronica stood up and slammed down her book. "THAT IS ENOUGH!" she yelled. Everyone stopped and looked at her. "I have had it, and I know everyone else has too. It has been impossible to live here lately, and I won't have it. Now, Malone and Challenger, get your things. We are leaving to stay in the Zanga village. You two are going to stay and work this out. If you are still fighting when we return in two days, you WILL find somewhere else to live until you get over this problem. Do you understand?"
Marguerite and Roxton both opened their mouths to speak, but were silenced before they could say anything.
They stood there silently as the others gathered their things and left. No one bothered to say good bye.
"Good idea, Veronica!" Ned said as they gladly left the treehouse, Marguerite, and Roxton behind. "I didn't think I could take it much longer!"
Challenger laughed. "I don't think any of us could."
Back in the treehouse, Marguerite and Roxton glared at each other. "Well, I guess we say something," Roxton said.
"Or, we could just pretend that we made up. That way we wouldn't have to talk." With that, Marguerite turned around and stalked out.
"Wait a minute, my dear," Roxton said, a sarcastic grin on his face. "If you haven't noticed, I am once again the only male around. Does this mean we get a repeat of your delightful show? Of course, money is no good around here. Otherwise I'd offer you. No doubt you are very good at what you do, so I'm certain you are quite an expensive piece. However, I am fortunate to be a Lord, so I certainly will be able to meet any price you ask." He saw Marguerite glare at him, and said, "What's the matter? You aren't working today? Well, what about tomorrow?"
Marguerite smiled and said, "Why don't you ask your friends my fee when we return to London. I am certain most of them will know." Then she turned quickly away and gulped. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up. Why couldn't he just stay away from her?
Roxton was tired of this. Why couldn't they just talk? Why couldn't he keep his stupid mouth shut? He grabbed her arm and whirled her around. "That is enough. I am tired of this. What did I do? Look, I am sorry. Okay, is that what you want?"
Marguerite was twisting violently and trying to get away from him. "Let go of me! You mean nothing to me! Your apology means nothing to me! Why can't you understand that?"
"Fine! You mean nothing to me either! It was just another good screw for me In fact, nothing special at all. You aren't even one of the most beautiful women I've had! I prefer my women not be quite as "used" as you claim to be. In fact, I'm sure I'll forget you as soon we return to London. There! Is that what you want to hear? Is it? Answer me, damn you!" Roxton yelled, shaking her. She just stood there, her eyes closed, her hands clenched by her sides. He shook her again, but she said nothing. "You disgust me. I can't believe I let myself care about someone like you." Then he released her.
Marguerite was muttering to herself over and over again. She was numb all over and was using all her strength to keep from breaking down. However, as soon as he released her, she collapsed onto the floor and started sobbing - heaving sobs that shook her whole body.
Roxton turned to leave, but stopped at the sound of her sobs. He turned and saw her and his heart broke. "Oh hell," he muttered, and went over to her side. 'Marguerite, darling, I'm so sorry, please don't cry... I didn't mean any of it. I was just trying to hurt you, because you hurt me. Please tell me what started all this. Please... Tell me what's wrong..."
Marguerite looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. She yelled, between her sobs, "You want to know? Are you sure, because once I tell you there's no going back?"
He touched her arm lightly, and said, "Please tell me."
"Just remember that you asked for it. I grew up in a boarding school. I suppose I was an accident or something, I don't know. Whatever I was, I know my parents didn't want me. After I finished my studies, I met a man about my age. He paid attention to me... told me how smart and beautiful I was, told me he loved me. I was so thrilled someone actually wanted me. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We had a beautiful wedding. Of course," she added with a harsh laugh, "My parents were out of the country, so I had no one to give me away, but no matter... So, as soon as we married, it all began to change. He began to ask for huge amounts of money, and I, being the stupid idiot, gave it to him. " She paused and took a deep breath. When she continued her voice was shaking. "I soon found out he had spent almost all my money. He was a gambler and a smuggler, and he owed huge debts to some very dangerous people. He began to blame me... I had no more money to give him. He would go out, late a night, and return early in the morning, smelling of liquor and cheap women's perfume. Once I made the mistake of asking where he had been. He... he... began to beat me and... and... use me, and I suppose I relieved his tensions, so it became something of a daily ritual," she said with a wry smile. "The men he owed money to were become very angry, and demanded payment. My husband decided..." she took a deep breath and then pushed on, "He decided to sell me to them to make up the debts. You were right, right about all of it. I was nothing but a cheap whore. At first, I protested, and we fought. He hit me and I fell against the bedpost and was knocked out. When I woke up, I was tied to the bed and one of the men was... was on top of me!" At that memory, Marguerite lost what little composure she had left. She flung herself onto the floor, her sobs shaking her body, and managed to gasp out the rest of her story. "I quickly found out that it was more enjoyable for them if I fought, so I learned to lie there quietly. You were right! I was a whore! I just laid there, I let them... One day, my husband crossed the wrong man too many times. He was murdered. I thought I was free, but he still owed debts. Lots of them. I had to continue working for them... I ran, I swear, I tried. I escaped but they found me. I couldn't let them use me anymore... I... They said they would kill me... I was in the alley one night and walked into the lecture hall and heard of the exploration and offered to fund it, with the little money I had left to live on... Told the men any jewels I found would be theirs. I have to find enough to pay them back, or I can never go home..."
Roxton had tears in his eyes. The woman he loved, treated that way, if only he'd found her earlier. If only she'd told him... Oh God, he'd grabbed her, hit her, called her a whore! He was no better than her husband. Oh, God forgive him! He reached down and picked her up off the floor. He was so full of pity for her and self-loathing for himself that he literally felt his gut twist. He pulled her tightly against him and held her for a long time, stroking her back and whispering soothing words in her ear. "Shhh. It's okay now. I promise..."
Marguerite looked at him. "No... It's not alright. I... I... How could you ever love someone like me? I knew you couldn't... You were right! I'm a... a... whore!"
"Oh God, Marguerite! I am so sorry! I was so mad at you, because you'd hurt me. I didn't mean to hit you, and I didn't mean any of those things I said! I love you! If you'll let me, I want to take care of you for the rest of lives! I promise I will never ever hurt you! You'll never be hurt again! Look, I'll take care of those bastards for hurting you! I swear it! Please forgive me!"
She looked at Roxton and saw the sorrow in his face. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk to me again..."
"Marguerite! Haven't you been listening to me? I love you! Do you know what that means?" He looked at her closely and realized that she didn't know what that meant. No one had ever loved her before... He pulled even closer to him, and kissed her head. "I love you! I don't care about any of that, and my darling, it wasn't your fault. None of it... Those men, your husband, they are bastards. They did this to you. If your husband wasn't dead, I would kill him. I swear it! You, my dear, are the strongest, bravest, most beautiful person I have ever met. I understand it might be difficult. If you are willing to try, we can go as slowly as you want!"
Marguerite smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. "I'll try," she whispered.
Roxton smiled and hugged her. "I love you!" he said.
She looked at him, and then smiled timidly. "I... I...." Her voice was trembling.
Roxton looked into her eyes. "It's okay. I know. You can tell me when you're ready."
"Thank you," she said simply.
That night, Roxton was lying awake in his bed, thinking his darling Marguerite. He knew now why she was so cautious and afraid of him. He felt so guilty for what he said, and knew he was the luckiest man in the world because she forgave him. Suddenly he heard a timid knock on his door, and Marguerite entered.
"Roxton..." she said hesitantly.
Roxton simply held out his arms, and she climbed into the bed next to him. He wrapped his arms around and held her. She fell asleep in his arms, and as he looked at her, he knew everything would work out. She was the first woman he had ever known that he would be perfectly happy with simply holding in his arms all night. She was feisty, strong-willed, brave, beautiful, caring, infuriating woman, and he loved her more than anything else. He knew she had a lot of demons to overcome, but together they would work everything out. He smiled in the dark, kissed Marguerite's cheek softly, and fell asleep.
The end