ALL THE DANCES OF MY LIFE
Marguerite was the first to enter the main room that morning. Sleep had been sporadic for her last night. The events of the day before had been more intense than any others since they first became trapped on the plateau so many years before. Her sole purpose, the one prize she treasured most in life, to learn about her parentage, had been destroyed. Partly because of her own choice, the choice to stay with the man who had come to mean more to her than life itself.
Could she live with that knowledge? Could she be happy knowing she would be traveling down a different path, with a new purpose? Would the new goal in her life prove to be worthy of her intentions? After the harsh words of yesterday, she had her doubts. But hadn't John said 'when she was ready, all her secrets would be safe with him'? That had to mean he still valued the relationship which had made life bearable during their years on the plateau.
'Well, no matter. What's done is done. No turning back now,' she muttered to herself as she put water on for the morning coffee.
The others would be up soon. Especially John. Such an early riser, that one. What would they talk about this morning? Would they rehash yesterday's happenings, going over every detail? Or, would it be a silent meal like so many had been in the past when she and Roxton had quarreled over some trivial matter?
But yesterday had not been a trivial matter. 'Best to make myself scarce as soon as breakfast is served,' she thought.
****
The aroma of the perking coffee permeated the surrounding bedrooms, awakening its occupants to a new day.
John rose quickly and began dressing with his usual fervor, eager to meet the challenges of yet another day on the plateau. And, to see the lovely face of his Marguerite to which he had become so accustomed to over the last few years. He couldn't imagine what a day without her would be like.
As he pulled his shirt down over his head, he began remembering the events of the day before. Especially, the moment in the cave when she had the chance to leave the plateau, and him, and hesitated. Thank God she'd hesitated. It had given Colum the opportunity to grab the oroboris and transport himself back to Shanghai. He hadn't wanted to show it yesterday, but he'd inwardly sighed in relief. The thought of her leaving the plateau…of leaving him…
He shook his head blocking out those desolate feelings. Truth is, she hadn't left him. She had stayed. And, had openly admitted on the balcony that even though the oroboris was the reason she came to the plateau, it wasn't the reason she stayed. That had to mean she had chosen life with him over the medallion.
Well, he thought, the start of a new day. A new life with Marguerite. And, what a life it promised to be. He just hoped she hadn't managed to burn breakfast again this morning.
*****
Roxton entered the kitchen and sat down in his usual chair just as Marguerite was placing breakfast on the table before a befuddled Challenger.
He looked at the plates set before him, and then across the table to Challenger with a similarly confused look.
"Well, someone say something," Marguerite said crisply. "It doesn't look that bad, does it?"
Challenger finally spoke. "My dear, it looks delicious. Not a burned spot anywhere."
"And, smells delicious too," Roxton said, nodding his head in agreement.
Marguerite only slightly smiled, but inside was brimming over with pride. Finally, she'd cooked one meal without burning it. She just wished she were in a better mood to enjoy it.
Not feeling like testing the 'waters' with John yet, she remained faithful to her first response of the day - make herself scarce.
Marguerite was half way to her bedroom when John looked up from his plate and asked "Where you going Marguerite? Aren't you going to have breakfast with us?"
"Not this morning, you know I'm not much for morning meals. Think I'll just go lie down for a while."
John rose quickly from the table and followed her half way down the stairs to her bedroom.
"Marguerite, you feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, John. Just a bit tired. I didn't sleep very well last night. Couldn't keep my eyes closed for some reason."
It was then he noticed the dark circles forming under those gray pool eyes he lived to lose himself in. He also thought he detected some puffiness which could only mean she'd spent time crying. The thought of her weeping alone in her bedroom made his heart clutch. He should have been with her last night. To hold her and comfort her. He just wasn't sure if this was the right time to approach her. Marguerite was like a skittish colt at times. He'd learned over the years to hold his first impulses and display an inordinate amount of patience. This was one of those times.
Besides, he wasn't sure at this point if her sadness was brought on by her decision not to leave the plateau or the certainty of the destruction of her birth certificate.
Best let her get the rest she needed. He knew how even more obstinate she became without a good night's sleep.
"Go, John. Go back to your breakfast before it gets cold. I just need to get some rest," she said, turning and descending into her bedroom.
Roxton returned to the table where Challenger was loading a second helping on his plate.
"She actually cooked an edible breakfast. It's hard to believe after all that burnt toast and soggy eggs we were getting there for a while. I wonder what's come over the girl?" Challenger was obviously enjoying Marguerite's newfound talents.
"It does seem as though there's a new Marguerite in the treehouse, doesn't it?"
"John, I'm not blind to what's been going on. I hope all's well with you two. You did come to an understanding, didn't you?"
"Of sorts. It's not that clear yet where it will lead, but she did make the choice to stay of her own accord." He paused for a moment and thought. "Well, maybe she didn't make a clear cut choice on her own, but she hesitated long enough to allow someone else to make it for her. If Colum hadn't been there to snatch the medallion out of her reach, I'm not sure what she would have done. She'd dreamed for years of finding the missing half. And, there it was right in front of her. Right there for the grabbing. And, she hesitated….because of me."
"That's a lot of pressure for you, John. Do you think you're up to it?"
"I'll have to be. There's too much at stake for me to fail her now. I'm worried though about how tired she looked this morning. Maybe I should go see how she is….."
"John, let her have some time alone. She has a lot to digest after yesterday. She'll be all right." He poured a cup of the steaming coffee for John, and added, "Now! Let's finish this delicious breakfast she's prepared for us. And, just hope this streak of good cooking continues!"
*****
When the morning chores were completed, Roxton took his rifle and headed for one of the paths he and Marguerite had so often strolled. He knew there were some wild flowers growing along this trail, and he thought Marguerite could use some cheering up.
He looked for only the most colorful ones, and when he had picked as many as his two hands would hold he made his way back to the treehouse to place them in water.
****
John walked softly down the steps to Marguerite's bedroom and across the floor to her bedside. He lightly placed the vase of wild flowers on the night table, then turned to look down at her lovely face…peacefully sleeping. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but was afraid he would wake her. She needed her sleep. Best to turn around and leave.
Forgetting how close he was to the table, he turned too quickly and slammed into it. The items on the table clattered noisily into each other. He caught the newly picked flowers before they could crash to the floor, but the noise had already awakened Marguerite.
"John? What are you doing?" She struggled to sit up. "Is anything wrong?"
"No, just my clumsiness. Sorry, I woke you. I-I was just checking on you. You didn't look that well this morning."
It was then Marguerite noticed the flowers sitting upright on the night table.
"John, did you pick those? For me?"
"Well, I don't see any other occupant of this bedroom," he stammered nervously, trying to make a joke. Shrugging his shoulders nonchantly and backing up toward the stairs, he said "Uh..I'll leave you to go back to sleep."
"John, that was very sweet of you. Don't you…I mean…wouldn't you like to stay for a few minutes? I-I'm really wide awake now."
"If you're sure…you don't mind?"
Marguerite patted the bed, inviting John to sit next to her….the welcoming invitation he'd been hoping for.
"John…." "Marguerite…." both began at the same time.
They both laughed nervously. "You first," John said.
"No….why don't you go first this time?"
"Uh…uh….Marguerite, I-I….I need to say something to you about yesterday. I said some very harsh things to you. At the time, I thought they were justified. But now I regret not trusting you more."
"I don't recall giving you much reason to trust me. I kept secrets from you John…from all of you…but the reason for my funding the expedition was probably the worst one. I should have told all of you the truth from the beginning."
"If you had, you would have found the medallion years ago. And, you would have left the plateau before….", he hesitated.
"Before what, John?"
"Do I have to put it into words, Marguerite?"
"Yes, I'm afraid you do."
"You know….before we were able to know each other the way we do now. You would have taken any chance to leave the plateau those first few months."
"That's true…and by now I would know who my real parents were." Tears started to form in her eyes as she leaned into John's chest. He wrapped his arms around her to give her comfort, the comfort he regretted not giving the night before.
Stroking the hair back from her temples, he began, "I've been thinking. I realize now how much knowing your parentage means to you. When we get back to London, why not let me help you?"
Marguerite pulled away, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palm to keep the tears from charting their normal course.
"What do you mean…help me?"
"My family has money and resources, enough to search for as long as it takes."
"You'd do that for me?" Shaking her head, she added, "But your family might have a say in that."
"To hell with what my family says. Unless you haven't noticed, Miss Krux…er…Smith….or whatever your name is….the name before John Roxton is Lord. That means I'm in charge. No one tells me how or for what reason to spend our money." His voice softened as he added, "And, yes…I'd do that for you."
"Well, what does it matter now. We're never going to leave this plateau. You know it, I know it and so does Challenger."
"Why, Marguerite! Am I hearing you correctly? When did this defeatist attitude come over you? This isn't the fiery Marguerite I met almost three years ago," he chided.
She looked up into his ruggedly handsome face with the winsome smile he had fallen so in love with…so long ago.
"So what if we don't leave this plateau," he continued. "We're doing pretty well right here, aren't we? We've plenty of food, shelter, supplies…"
"Trogs, savage tribes, headhunters, raptors…..," she added sarcastically.
"Adventures, Marguerite….they're called adventures. But you left out the most important thing…good company."
He stood up pulling her to her feet. "Now, I need to remind you my dear there was something we started yesterday, something that was rudely interrupted…..that we need to finish."
"Whatever are you talking about, John?"
"Wait right there." John ran up the stairs to the main room, leaving a bewildered Marguerite watching him disappear around the corner.
When she heard the waltz music begin, a smile spread over her face as the remembrance of yesterday morning seeped through to her inner heart.
In seconds after the music began, John ran back down the bedroom stairs stopping short at the bottom step.
He walked slowly to her, and when he was no more than a foot away from her face, held out his arms and bowed deeply.
"May I have this dance, milady?"
"I'd be honored, milord."
He gracefully took her into his arms and as they began swaying to the one-two-three beat of the music, John gazed into her eyes. "And, all the dances for the rest of our lives?"
"Careful, Lord Roxton. A girl might just think you're proposing."
"The girl might not be wrong." He stopped dancing and bent to look into her face for an answer. "Well?"
She smiled wickedly and whispered, "Just keep dancing, John."
They both laughed as he whirled her off her feet, keeping in perfect beat with the music from the main room, as well as with the music in their hearts.
THE END