A beaten and bruised Marguerite had been lying in bed for three days, and though sore and glad that everyone cared so much about her, was extremely bored. Challenger had given her a clean bill of health after her initial fever had subsided, attributing it to the blood loss and strain of the previous day's events, but everyone doted on her as if she was a small child, and it was really starting to get on he nerves. There had been some highlights though.
Beside her bed lay a journal, telling of Ned's account of his vision, and his promise to keep this story out of his books. She cried every time she read it, mourning for the parents she had lost. On top of the book lay the locket she found amongst her belongings when she was a small child, inscribed with a loving message she didn't dare believe until now.
Veronica lightly wrapped on the doorway, "How are you feeling today?"
"Wonderful, are you going to let me leave my cell today?" Marguerite snapped.
"That bad, huh. I might be able to convince Challenger to let Roxton carry you out to the balcony today."
"That would be much appreciated. There is only so many times you can sing 'Ninety-nine bottle of beer on the Wall' before it gets tiresome."
"Well, don't get your hopes up, you won't be aloud out of the tree house for at least another week, even if they do extend the perimeter. I'll try to sneak you some contraband though. Assai said they will be making some of the Zanga's Mango wine tomorrow."
Both women were giggling over something when Roxton cleared his throat. "Am I interrupting?"
"No, I was just leaving." Veronica jumped off the edge of the bed and quickly skipped out of the room.
"Don't forget that gift you promised," Marguerite called after her.
Roxton eyed Marguerite, "How's your leg doing?" He walked over and lifted the sheet to look. Reflexively, she pushed his hand away.
"Just fine. In fact, Veronica and I were just talking about going for a hike to the Zanga Village tomorrow."
"You may have to post pone your trip for a couple of weeks. Your not going anywhere I can't carry you for a while. And the trip back the other day really took it out of me. You're a lot heavier that you look."
She grabbed the pillow behind her back and swung it at him full force, "John Richard Roxton!"
"Ouch, watch what you're doing," he griped as he covered his face with his hands. He made a grab for the pillow, but tripped over a discarded piece of clothing, and fell onto the bed next to Marguerite.
They both immediately became more serious as he looked into her eyes. "This is nice," he breathed leaning on his elbow facing her.
"It is, isn't it?" she said with a smile tickling her lips. She sat up, leaning against the wall, and Roxton positioned himself next to her. It was a tight squeeze. "If you make this a habit I'm going to need a bigger bed."
"Hm, I was needing a new project," he teased, hugging her close to his side. Then he became serious, "I've been meaning to ask you something."
"I hope I can answer you question, John," she said quietly, fearing were this might lead. She told Veronica, but she wasn't sure if she was ready to tell Roxton.
"What made you jump in front of Beaumont's gun the way you did. Veronica and I could have stopped him before anyone got hurt."
Marguerite breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I'm glad your confident of that, and I'll remember that next time, but at that moment, all I could think was that he had stolen two families from me, and I was blind to it. I wasn't going to let him do it again, right before my eyes."
Roxton looked into her eyes. He remembered Veronica talking about Beaumont murdering a man Marguerite loved when she was young. The reasons for her running away from him made sense now. He had mixed feelings, sorry for her heart to have been broken, making her afraid to love, an innocent man's death, but he also wondered where he would be if she had never shown up in his life, a thorn in his side and a song in his heart.
"So are you going to tell me about him or not," Roxton asked.
It took a moment for Marguerite to figure out whom John was talking about, but when she did she smiled and said, "Darien was a lot like you, bull headed…"
