TOKENS OF LOVE

By Eva

Morning always came too early for Marguerite Krux and today was no different than all the others since the treehouse had become her home three years ago. She would have been content to spend most of the day languishing in her bedroom, but hearing the hustle and bustle already going on in the main room, she knew it was only a matter of time before…..

"Marguerite, are you awake yet?"

The dark-haired beauty recognized the determined voice and the sound of the younger woman's firm gait bounding down the stairs to her room.

The occupant of the small bed raised her head in time to see Veronica swing her face around the doorframe. "What are you still doing in bed? The sun's been up for hours."

Squinting her sleep-filled eyes, she yawned and sighed, "What time is it?"

"Nearly 8 o'clock." Smirking she said, "You ask the same thing every morning, Marguerite. Maybe you should start going to bed earlier. You wouldn't have such a hard time waking up on time."

"On time for what?" she asked scornfully. "And, what are you doing in here? Surely, you don't need help with breakfast."

"No, I'm looking for the water pitcher you borrowed from the kitchen last night." Hands planted on her hips, her eyes circled the room. She finally spied it on the vanity, still sitting on the tray Marguerite had forgotten to return to the main room.

There were times the company of so many people in one place overwhelmed the raven-haired heiress, and occasionally she retreated to her room for a bit of solitude. Yesterday had been one of those days. She'd begged off eating supper with the others by saying she felt a tiresome headache coming on, and wanted to take her evening meal on a tray in her room.

"Here it is." Grabbing the pitcher off the tray, she started for the stairs. "Hurry and get up, Marguerite. Breakfast's been on the table for a while now. You don't want to eat cold food."

When she was out of sight, Marguerite wearily dragged her tired body out of bed and slowly stumbled to the window for a breath of fresh air. Taking a deep breath, she paused and waited a few seconds bracing herself for what she knew was coming next. Like clockwork…..

"Marguerite!" No one could mistake the sound of that voice. "Are you up yet? Breakfast is getting cold."

In his usual early morning, high-spirited way, he rushed into her room pausing at the doorway just long enough to let his eyes wander about the room looking for her.

"There you are." Walking to the window, he wrapped both arms around her shoulders, scooping her body to his in a generous hug.

Unresponsive to his cheerful mood, she frowned and asked, "Does anyone ever think to knock? For all you knew, I could have been standing here in my knickers."

Pulling back to see if she was indeed in her knickers, he seemed almost disappointed to see she was still in her sheer white nightgown, even though it was his favorite.

"You're not even dressed yet." He started looking aimlessly around the room.

"Did you come in here for any particular reason, John?"

"There it is." He collected the china cup off the tray still sitting on the vanity and started for the stairs. "Can't drink my coffee in some old chipped mug. You know how I prefer mine in a cup. And, this one's my favorite. Don't want to jinx the day by breaking tradition." Tossing over his shoulder as an afterthought, "Get dressed, Marguerite. The morning's half over and breakfast's….."

"…getting cold. I know," she nodded, finishing the sentence with him.

Laughing, he ran up the stairs as Marguerite began picking through her blouses hanging on the wall hooks trying to decide which one to wear today. Well, what did it matter which one she wore. The white one, the blue one, the lavender one…no one ever saw her but the same handful of people everyday. The only person she really wanted to impress was John, and as far as he was concerned he pretty much preferred her without one.

She tossed a blouse on her bed and started pulling down the straps of her gown to her waist.

"Marguerite? Do you still have…..?" Malone ambled into her room without thinking to call out first.

Marguerite gasped and grabbed the blouse off the bed, clutching it to her bare chest.

"Oh….." The embarrassed young journalist quickly covered his eyes and turned his face away from the half-naked woman. "Sorry, I didn't know you weren't dressed."

"Well, you would have if you had knocked…and asked before you came barging in," she shouted angrily. "Honestly, I have no privacy in this house. Would it be asking too much if you were to knock next time before rushing in uninvited. And, was there something you wanted, Malone?"

"The tray you brought in here last night. I need it to clear the dirty dishes off the table."

Still holding the blouse up to hide her bare skin, Marguerite stomped to the vanity and rattled the tray sitting atop it. "It's right here. Just take it and go. I'd like to get dressed sometime this morning."

Shaking his head, but still keeping his eyes averted from the angry woman, he slid the tray off the vanity and said, "Sorry, Marguerite. I'll knock next time. Just don't tell Roxton that I....well, that I saw…you know…"

"Just go!" she shouted.

This day was not off to a good start.

*********

She walked into the main room expecting…hoping…she would have the kitchen all to herself. Every morning it was the same though. John was in his usual place, already working on his second helping of hotcakes. The man had a voracious appetite for his morning meal.

Malone was clearing dishes off the table with the tray he'd retrieved earlier from her room. Challenger was perusing the shelves of books in the library, and Veronica was at the stove working on another plate of breakfast for the latest arrival at the table.

Slumping into her usual chair, she yawned and looked to Malone. "Coffee, I need coffee. Malone? Any coffee left?"

"Coming right up." Taking a heavy cloth, he grabbed the handle of the hot pot from the stove and whirled around to pour a cup for the heavy-eyed woman. With his other hand, he reached across the table for an empty cup and clumsily knocked over the tray of dirty dishes. One of the half-empty mugs tilted off the tray and fell into her lap, splashing coffee onto the lavender blouse she had finally chosen to wear for the day.

"Aayyyyyy!!!!! Malone! Oh, no!!!! Look what you've done. It's not enough that you walked into my room this morning…unannounced! Uninvited! With me standing there half-naked. Now you've gone and ruined my favorite blouse, too!!"

The room went suddenly quiet.

Challenger was the first to speak. "Uh…well…found the book I was looking for." He turned and quickly ran down the stairs to his sanctuary.

"And…I have weeding…in the garden…so…I'm just going to…uh…go now." Veronica gave Roxton and Ned an 'oops' face and after carefully placing the plate of food on the table, walked swiftly to the elevator.

Roxton stopped eating mid-bite, and stared expressionless at Malone's blushing face.

Ned stood there frozen, as though his feet were nailed to the floor. His eyes shifted between Roxton's face and Marguerite's.

Finally, he called out to the woman in the elevator. "Wait, Veronica. I'll go with you. I have…uh...some wood to chop. Sorry about the blouse, Marguerite." He looked at Roxton. "It's not what you think. I went for the tray and I forgot to knock…and…." Shrugging, he decided to make a quick exit by hastily joining Veronica in the elevator.

Enjoying himself immensely now, Roxton grinned broadly. "Well, I'll say this for you, my dear. You really know how to clear a room."

"Don't make a joke of this, Roxton. I have to take this blouse off now and soak it before it stains. Although, I may as well toss it out. Coffee almost never comes out," she moaned.

Taking a last swig from his china cup, he crumpled his napkin next to the empty plate and moved around the table to sit in the chair next to hers. Putting his arm around the back of the chair, his other hand began playing teasingly with the top buttons. "If you need help, I'm free this morning. No lab experiments, no garden to weed, no wood to chop….."

Pushing his hand away, she jumped up and started for the stairs to her room.

"Ohhhh…..John!! Is this all you ever think of? Didn't you get enough of this last night."

For a while now, she and John had been spending part of their evenings in her room. Sometimes they would sit on the bed for hours at a time, talking, teasing. Some nights after he'd done his daily chores outside, he would sit in the wicker armchair by the window, cuddling Marguerite in his lap while she chattered on of how she'd spent her day without him. Often he would make his way back to her room when the others were asleep, and their sessions would elevate to a more intimate level. Last night had been one of those times.

Seeing his disappointed face, she instantly regretted the hastily said caustic words. Turning away, she ran to her room to avoid having to say what she knew he would be expecting.

A few minutes later, he followed her down the stairs to her room, and called out before he entered.

"Marguerite, is it okay if I come in?"

"Why bother asking now? No one in this house ever knocks or asks." She had removed the blouse and was folding it into the basin on the night table. After pouring water over it and dunking it so it was covered, she turned to move into John's arms that were open and waiting to surround her.

Holding her close, he whispered into her ear, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Is it something I've said…or done?"

"Oh, John," she whimpered into his chest. "No you didn't do anything wrong. I just didn't get enough sleep last night."

"Then it is because of me. I kept you up too late. Do you want me to stop coming to your room in the middle of the night?"

Looking up into his anxious face, she said, "No! Oh, no! I love what we have together. It's the only quiet, private time we have. I don't want that to end."

"Well, something's put you in a bad mood…and I don't think it's the lack of sleep. You've lost sleep before and not been this…well…you know…"

"Cranky? Irritable? Impossible to live with?"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her arm and pulled her down next to him. Wrapping one arm around her, he took her chin in his other hand and turned her face up to look at him. "Tell me what's wrong. Was it Malone walking in on you getting dressed this morning?" he teased with a twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe I should have a talk with that boy. Is there anything going on between you two that I should know about?"

Marguerite gently slapped his chest and said, "John! Bite your tongue! But, I do think you've hit the mark. Malone walking in on me was just the last straw. I have no privacy. First Veronica wakes me up, then you, then Malone. And, no one ever knocks. Not that there's anything there to knock. There is no door after all," she said grimly.

"And, I'm still not easy with taking all my meals with so many people. Back in London, I just called for room service and my meals were brought up on a tray."

It was all beginning to pour out now.

"And, if I wanted privacy, I just hung out the Do Not Disturb sign. Here…there are no rooms off limits. Especially mine, it seems. I'm just surprised George didn't make an appearance this morning."

Roxton stroked her hair comfortingly. "Sounds like someone is homesick. Anything else? I'm here to listen."

"And, why does Veronica insist on cooking all those heavy fat-loaded breakfasts. Hotcakes, fried potatoes, biscuits. What would be so wrong with something like crepes, or poached eggs, or just plain fruit?

Smiling at the complaints she'd kept secret for so long, he leaned over to look into her face. "Is there more?"

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath. "No, I think that's it, for now. I'm sure there's more, but for now that's…probably it."

Putting both arms around her, he held her close to him. "I'm sorry we've been so thoughtless. You're right. I shouldn't be rushing into your room uninvited. Veronica needs to stop waking you before you're ready. And, Malone…well he definitely needs to be more careful about disturbing your privacy." Holding her arms, he pushed her away a few inches. With a sideward glance, he said, "Just how much of your half-naked body did he see this morning?"

"Very funny, Roxton. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. Neddy-boy only has eyes for Veronica." Playfully plucking at the back of his shirt collar, her voice softened, "As for you, you know you have a standing invitation, you're always welcome in my room no matter whether it's day or the middle of the night. But, maybe you could be a bit more quieter…in the morning that is. I don't wake up as quickly as you and the others do."

Nodding his head, he said, "Consider it done. And, I'll have a talk with the others about respecting your privacy. As to Veronica's cooking, I'll leave that part to you."

"Oh, John. You're too good to me." Kissing him on the cheek, "Why are you so good to me?"

"You have to ask." Nuzzling her neck, he whispered softly, "Because I love you, Marguerite Krux. For all your peculiarities, all your quirky habits, through all your mood swings, your crankiness in the mornings…I still love you. But something tells me I need to start thinking of ways to show you instead of just saying it."

"Mmmmm…well…you're beginning to convince me. Maybe if you were to….."

Before she could finish the words, he held her face and brought it up to catch her lips with his. Kissing her, he felt the tension of the morning melting away.

Smiling, she stood up suddenly and said, "Okay…now you need to let me get on with getting those stains out of my blouse. And, I'm sure there are plenty of chores you need to be taking care of this morning."

He stood up and faced her. "Are you going to be all right? You feel better now?"

"I'm fine. I just need a little time to myself. Maybe even lay down and catch up on some lost sleep. You run along. I'll be all right." Touching his cheek, "Thank you, John. You've always been my knight in shining armor. Whatever would I do without you?"

*********

The day progressed like any other day on the plateau. Veronica spent most of the day weeding their burgeoning vegetable garden. Malone chopped several cords of wood for the kitchen stove. Challenger, as usual, stayed hidden downstairs in his lab. Roxton cleaned up the mess Neddy-boy had made at the breakfast table and tidied up the kitchen, while Marguerite worked on getting out the coffee stains on her favorite lavender blouse.

The rest of the day she stayed in her room…reading, napping, enjoying the privacy being afforded by her darling John. By late afternoon, she had decided to join the others for evening meal when she heard Roxton coming down the stairs. She had come to recognize his footsteps above all the others.

He paused outside the door. "Marguerite, can I come in?"

Pleased with this newly found courtesy, she beamed and said, "Yes, John. Of course, you can come in."

He entered her room carrying a tray of covered dishes, a goblet filled with a burgundy wine, and a small water glass with one of the orchids from the conservatory tucked inside.

Mouth gaping open, she asked, "What's all this?"

"Room service for milady."

"You didn't have to do this. I was coming upstairs for supper." Looking over the tray he placed on the night table, she was delighted with the attention to the little details he had obviously spent so much time with to make her dinner perfect. The napkin was folded into a stand-up triangle, there was a separate plate for the hot rolls…even his 'favorite' china cup was there filled with herbal tea. But the delicate lavender color of the orchid was the most loving touch of all.

Her face glowed as she said, "Thank you, John. But you did bring enough for both us, didn't you?"

"No, this is just for you. To be eaten in the privacy of your room."

"But you're going to stay and talk with me, aren't you? I want to know all about your day. What did you do today?"

"Oh…a little bit of this…a little bit of that. But I do have one more…very important chore left, then I'll come back." He turned and left the room almost skipping up the stairs, humming to himself.

'Whatever is he up to?' she thought. Pulling up the wicker armchair, she sat down at the table where her 'room service' tray had been laid. Uncovering the dishes, her heart melted at the thought of John preparing all this for her.

She was well into her perfectly prepared meal, when she heard Roxton outside the door lightly hammering something into the doorframe.

"What are you doing out there?"

"Just go on eating your supper. This will keep till you're done."

Knowing she could never finish till she knew what was afoot, she crossed the length of the room and walked up the stairs.

She couldn't believe her eyes. Gasping she saw a small plank of wood hanging by a piece of twine over a nail on the doorframe, eloquently engraved with the words…."Do Not Disturb".

With a lump in her throat, she crinkled her nose and said, "John…you did this for me?"

Standing back proudly to admire his handiwork, he looked her lovingly in the eyes and said, "I did it for us."

Folding her arm in the crook of his, he led her back down the stairs and to the privacy of her room, knowing with the new sign hanging outside the door, there was every hope that tomorrow morning would bring a fresh air of peace…for everyone in the treehouse.

The End