Panda and KDC:  I'm glad you enjoyed it!

MMJ:  Thank you.  And I guess it was time for a little comic relief.  I hope you don't get too attached to comedy, though.  Dun-dun-dun!  Things are about to get tense again.

Fab:  Have you ever considered posting them here?

Chosen One:  My fingers are crossed!  And thank you very much for the compliment.

Taya:  Hey, you deserved the compliment.  Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  Anyway, I'm glad you found interest in the beginning part.  It was a very important assumption that Malone was making.  It may just pop up again later on.

Keys:  It's nice to be seen!  I'm feeling much better now, thank you.  And you can tell your sister that you're not strange, but "special".  smiles

Alex:  Oh, I don't think he's the silent type either.  wiggles eyebrows  Yet, you must remember that they're having sex in a tree house that doesn't provide much privacy.  I bet he struggles to keep quiet; and it must be real hard for him to do so.

Chapter Nine

Against the Moonlight

Part One

The birds' chirping, though annoying, was a sign that no dinosaurs were creeping around, waiting to slash their throats.  Marguerite heaved the rifle strap higher up her slender shoulder and grumbled as she began to scale the rocky hillside.  She squinted up against the glaring sun – estimating how much further she had to climb – when Roxton's alluring behind cast a shadow over her face.  Marguerite smiled: "As much as I loathe you at the moment, I must say that I'm rather enjoying the privileged view."

"You better be," he called down to her.  "Achieving this privileged arse didn't come easily."

Marguerite barked a laugh, her hand reaching up and grasping onto another foothold.  "Are you saying that you were a chubby little boy, Lord Roxton?"

"Not in the slightest.  In fact, I was enforced with the idea that a good gentleman was not only polite and chivalrous, but also strong and healthy.  You can't properly manage your household while being a fat lump in bed.  And you surely won't live long enough to enjoy the pleasures of life if you die early of a heart attack."

"So your privileged ass didn't come easily because you spent your days playing outside," Marguerite guessed accusingly, amused at the thought of John being forced to play lacrosse with the other young successors.

"Hardly.  Granted, my brother was to become the heir so he was brought up much more strictly than I.  Yet, I was still a Roxton," he added mockingly, "and therefore I, too, had to learn how to horseback ride, fence, ballroom dance," he cringed at the final item.

"Mr. Robertson"

"What?"  By now Roxton had reached the top.  He hauled himself up over the ledge then turned, lowering his arm down to Marguerite.

She gratefully accepted, placing her hand in his and allowing him to heave her up the rest of the way.  "Your pony.  You once told me that you named your pony Mr. Robertson."

Roxton laughed, shaking his head slightly in merriment.  "I'd forgotten about that."

Marguerite dusted off her blouse and trousers; and then eyed her husband with a playful smirk.  "And why, John, would a young boy name his pony Mr. Robertson?  I would expect something more manly from you."

Roxton gave a soft smile, seemingly slipping into his memories.  "Mr. Robertson was named after a dear friend.  James Robertson was a servant at my father's estate.  He taught me how to ride, fish, swim.  He was more of a father to me than my real one."

Marguerite stepped closer, frowning.  "What happened to him?"

Roxton closed his eyes briefly.  When he opened them to gaze into her eyes, they were wet with salty tears.  "What happens to everybody…he died."  Roxton cleared his throat as he shifted his weight.  "We better keep moving.  It'll be dark soon.  We need to find a place to camp."

Marguerite felt the urge to press for more answers, but felt it would only cause more damage.  Instead, she slipped her hand into his, giving it a tender squeeze.  She smiled warmly up at him.

He pecked her on the nose and then led the way, never releasing her hand.

Part Two

Marguerite stirred, curling up tighter against Roxton's chest as a draft filtered between them.  She cracked open her eyes, peering out into the stillness of the plateau.  Or, that of which she could see of it perched high in a colossal tree, resting against their backs against the trunk.  She watched the leaves sway gently in the breeze, elegant and tranquil in the moonlight.

She felt oddly at peace; something so unusual she hardly recognized it for what it was.  Even when singing lullabies to her babies by the fire, she always carried this sense of apprehension, terrified that something was going to disrupt their lives or – worse yet – harm her children.  Yet, now, in the calm, solitude of the late hours, nestled against her husband, Marguerite was at ease.

She smiled, tiredness sneaking up on her, but she was wistful to fall under its spell, afraid that she'd loose this moment of serenity forever.

And then she saw it: something darting among the trees.  Marguerite flinched and then inched away from Roxton in order to lean over the edge and peer down into the underbrush.  The tall grass swayed as something sprinted closer.

Marguerite's breath caught in her throat and she nudged Roxton with her boot.  He jerked awake, already reaching for his rifle.  Marguerite continued to stare out into the night, fear gripping her stomach when the movements in the underbrush suddenly stopped directly below the tree.

"What is it," Roxton whispered hoarsely in her ear.

Marguerite shook her head.  "I don't know.  Something was moving around down there.  And then it stopped right underneath us."

Roxton gingerly pulled her back and then shifted his gaze across the ground.  "Did you catch a glimpse of it?  Was it a dinosaur?"

"I didn't see it, but it couldn't have been a dinosaur."

"I don't see a thing.  Are you sure it stopped right underneath us?"

"Yes."

"Well, hopefully whatever it is can't climb," he said lightly.

"This isn't the time for jokes, John."

"Why, Marguerite, I'm not joking."  Roxton glanced her way with his eyebrows raised.  "I really hope it can't climb.  I for one don't want to become a midnight snack."

Marguerite clenched her teeth and scanned the area around them.  Her heart skipped a beat when there, silhouette standing on a branch against the pale light of the moon, flashed into the corner of her eye.  She whipped her head around and gasped.

Roxton jolted, whirling around in his crouched position, the barrel of his gun swinging with him.  "What," he cried out.

Marguerite pointed her finger toward the shadowy figure.  "There!  Don't you see it?"

"See what?  There's nothing there."

Marguerite gulped.  Roxton was right.  There was nothing there.  Then what had she seen?  "I…I swear there was something there a moment ago."

"Maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you."

"Yeah," she murmured.  "Maybe."

"Come on, go back to sleep.  I'll keep watch."

"Not a chance in Hell," she retorted.  "I couldn't possibly sleep now."

"You need your rest."

"So do you," she bit back.  "Why don't you go back to sleep?  I'll take the first shift."

"No way, Marguerite.  I'm staying up."

"Please, John.  I'll wake you up in two hours.  I promise.  We've got a long day ahead of us and we won't make it stumbling through the jungle because of a lack of sleep."

Roxton hesitated, knowing she was right, but upset with the situation.  "Fine.  But one hour.  No later."

Marguerite held up her right hand.  "Promise."

Part Three

Marguerite was already awake when Roxton shook her.  She moaned and stretched, cracking open her eyes to find her handsome Lord gazing down at her.  "Good morning," he said huskily.

"Mornin'," she replied with a yawn.  "I don't suppose you'll make me a cup of coffee?"

"Mmm," he answered as though considering it, as though they both didn't already know that he would do it.  "I don't know.  I guess it depends.  How much do you love me?"

"Enough to allow you the honor of making me a cup of coffee."

Roxton laughed.  "Ok, Sleeping Beauty, rise and shine.  I'll make you coffee while you sit there looking pretty."

Roxton and Marguerite climbed down the tree.  The hunter, who'd gone down first, placed his hands on either side of the trunk as Marguerite climbed down, entrapping his wife between the tree and him.  "Have I told you I loved you lately?"

Marguerite sighed, turning around to face her adorable husband.  "Not for a few days now."

Roxton gasped dramatically.  "What a horrid crime!  I must be locked away at once."  He bent down and nibbled on her neck.

Marguerite giggled and rolled her eyes.  "You pick the worst timing to be feisty."

Roxton chuckled against her throat, the heat of his breath tingling her skin and she suppressed a moan.  "John, honestly, now's not the time."

"I know."  He pulled back with a silly grin plastered across his face.  "That doesn't mean I can't try and entice you."

"I'll let you seduce me later.  Now make me my coffee, Lord Roxton, or you won't be needing your hands."

Roxton held up his arms in surrender.  "Yes, my Lady, as you wish."  Then, whistling, he went about preparing her coffee.

End Chapter Nine

I hope you enjoyed the little mixture of humor, drama, suspense, and romance.

Chapter Ten: Out of the Grave coming soon!