This had not been Marguerite's day. First, she had been chased by raptors at least three miles, then she slipped down a rocky slope in a skirt, which decided to slide up here hips the whole way down, at the bottom she fell face first in a mud hole with Roxton and Malone landing on top of her. One of her favorite rings came off in the mud, and the terrible twins thought her mud bath was funny, IT WASN'T! Back at the tree house that afternoon Marguerite tried to sneak off to bathe, but was caught and given a lecture by 'his lordship' about never going out alone, then proceeded to escort her to the pond. Now, she was tired, dirty, and she smelled. She just wanted to be alone.

            The water had never felt so good. As she washed she examined the cuts and scrapes on her hip from the trip down the rocky lane. She would have to ask Challenger if he had some salve to take the sting out.

            She swam around for a few more minutes, enjoying the relative solitude and trying to relax. Roxton sat rigidly with his back to her at the far end of the pond. "Are you almost finished?" John asked impatiently.

            "Yes, milord," she replied mockingly, before adding, "You could use a bath yourself."

            "Is that an invitation?"  he inquired, suddenly in much less of a hurry.

            She rolled her eyes as she climbed out of the water. "No peeking!" she warned as she wrapped a blanket around herself to serve as a towel. She picked up her clothes and went behind the trees to dress. She trusted him with her life, but not to keep his eyes to himself.

            Feeling refreshed and much better, Marguerite puller her camisole over her head and stepped into her skirt. As she picked up the blouse she had strewn over a branch a large hand clamped over her mouth as a blade came to her throat.

            "Don't scream," a threatening voice commanded. Her eyes widened in terror as she recognized the voice. "Long time no see, Margie. Did you miss me?"

            He removed his hand from her mouth and gripped her waist like a vise. "How did you get here?" she asked frantically. She thought, no hoped, that one of his schemes would have resulted in his death.

            "It's amazing what you can find out from an old man whom everyone considers crazy. Professor Sommerlee is quite concerned for your well being. He said that the last time he saw you, you had been shot in the leg with an arrow." The sinister man let his hand slip down her body to pull up her skirt to reveal a small scar. He then began raising the skirt higher, causing Marguerite to struggle.

            He dropped the hem and wrapped his arm around her once again. "Ah-ah-ah, Margie, behave." He hissed. She felt knife barely slice her skin and ceased any and all movement.

"What do you want?"

            "What I've always wanted. Now we're going to play a little game, just like old times. The next time you see me, you get to pretend we've never met, which I'm sure you can handle."

            "Why should I?"

            "That is none of your concern." He gave her a little jerk, forcing an involuntary cry from Marguerite.

            "Marguerite? Are you alright?" Roxton called, standing up to check on her.

            "Tell him your fine," he whispered.

            "It's nothing, John. I just tripped. I'll be out in a minute," she obeyed.

            Roxton frowned, not believing her, but deciding to let it drop for now. He had to admit, she had had a rough day. He and Malone weren't light, he thought with a smile as he thought about her at the bottom of the dog pile.

            "Good girl." Marguerite was released and she quickly spun to face her assailant. She glowered at him as he quickly lifted her blouse from the ground with his knife, holding his finger his lips.

            Marguerite stepped out of the trees still buttoning her shirt with the blanket draped over her shoulder.

            "It's about time, Marguerite." Roxton complained as he approached her. "What happened to your neck?" He reached over to lift her chin to examine a fresh cut, but she jumped away from him.

            "It's fine, I just scratched it on a twig when I fell," she lied.

            Roxton handed her his old handkerchief, "Here, hold this over it. You look a little pale as well, are you feeling alright."

            "The water was cold, and I am a little tired. I'll just lie down for a few minutes once we get back. I'll be good as new in no time. You'll see, John."