AN: Wow, It seems like forever since I updated. I think it was before weddings, illness, and disasters. But upon reading a story that I invest a lot of time in, only to have it never been finished, I was ready to kill the author. I then realized I was just as bad. My muse took over. Sorry for any mistakes. And thanks to all the people who have reviewed my story. If it were not for you, I would never have the courage to turn my thoughts into words. Thank you!
Disclaimer: I still don't own them, but Christmas is coming up!!
Chapter 5: All Good Things must....
Marguerite closed her eyes and took one more deep breath. She was Marguerite... Parsifal, an International Jewel Thief, and a whole lot more... SHE did not back away from anything and now was not the time to start. 'Win or lose, it's time. Too bad the stakes were so high.' She opened her eyes and looked again into Roxton's eyes, daring him to run. "We need to talk."
Roxton sighed heavily and turned away from her. He moved to the window and lingered there, staring outside. In reality, to look anywhere but in her eyes. "I know. The caterers are having issues and the florist states he cannot possible get those orchids Mother wants and the whole bloody thing is threatening to fall apart. You would think-"
"That's not what I meant."
He turned in her direction, but still could not bring himself to look in her eyes. "Oh. What do you mean?" He asked quietly, eyes still unnaturally down on the floor.
She slowly walked to him and cupped his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Talk about this," she stated as she pointed to herself and then him. "What is wrong with us? What is going on in your head? And don't tell me 'nothing' again, Roxton, you don't lie very well."
He looked at her. What could he say? "I am just tired, Marguerite. It seems nothing is working in this wedding or haven't you noticed?" He winced a little. That had come out a little more sarcastic than he would have liked. He did not want to challenge Marguerite, just get her to leave him alone about all of this.
Marguerite touched his cheek softly. "I know things haven't been working out the greatest, but don't use this wedding as your only excuse. This... thing that is wrong with you has been there since before the wedding decided to go to hell. So, again, what is wrong with you?"
Roxton flinched at her soft touch, but harsh words. He pulled away from her and stalked across the room to the desk. "What's wrong with me? Wrong with ME? So this is instantly my fault? Everything is going wrong and it must somehow be my fault... is that it?" He was yelling by the time he had finished. Some part of him realized he was just trying to cover his own issues, but he was too lost in the madness of this sudden anger to think clearly.
"I did not say the wedding problems were your fault, Roxton. I AM saying that YOU are the one having some sort of problem. I am handling the wedding disasters fine, your mother is handling them fine, the only one that is not, is YOU. YOU are clearly not fine despite your hourly instance that you are fine and nothing is wrong. Well?" Marguerite returned his attitude right back.
"I AM fine. I am tired of all this wedding... stuff. It should not be so bloody hard to walk down the aisle and say 'I do'. Everything is getting messed up and I am tired of it all. There, are you happy?"
"Not especially. Your mother and I can handle the wedding. Now what is really going on?" Marguerite was determined to find out the truth, she had not come this far for nothing.
"I just told you. I am fine. Drop it, now." Roxton glared at her, ready to boil over.
"Liar."
He practically vaulted over the desk and grabbed her arm. "I am not a liar. I am a well-respected and honorable man. I.do.NOT.lie," he seethed out, an intense fire blazing in his eyes.
Marguerite bit back her own angry retort and decided anger was not working. She needed to try a different direction. "Then show me. I love you and I am going to be your wife, please tell me what is wrong," she implored him, coming awfully close to begging. 'Only for John,' she thought.
He let go of his grip on her arm, almost shoving her away from him. He really could not take anymore of this. First his uncle, those 'friends', this wedding, the increasing nightmares, and now Marguerite. Everything was closing in and he simply could not take it any more. "I am tired of all of this. Parties, estates, planning, society, playing this... this part. I regret it all. I am tired of the constant questions on my choices and the constant bombardment of responsibilities that normal men would not care about. My Uncle will not agree with me on anything, least of all..." He stopped, even in his anger, he did not want to bring this up.
"Least of all, what? Roxton?"
"Nothing, Just leave this alone, Marguerite."
"Roxton... John, let me help you. Share your problems with me."
Roxton laughed harshly. "Oh, that is priceless. The Queen of Secrets wants me to share MY problems... my secrets with her. You cannot HELP, Marguerite."
She bit down another angry retort and replied, "How do you know until you try?"
"You just can't!"
"Roxton-"
Roxton lost complete control on his thoughts and blurted out, "He doesn't want me to marry you. He does not want your 'kind' in the family. Apparently, he is not alone in that opinion in 'the circle'." His hand instinctively went to cover his mouth, upset that he had blurted this out, but there was no stopping the train wreck about to occur. He added, "Are you happy now?"
Marguerite just looked at him, the hurt clearly evident for a fraction of a second in her eyes, before the composure took over her face. She tried to laugh slightly. "Well it is a good thing I am not marrying your uncle, isn't it?" She looked directly in his eyes, but he was not smiling. His look, said it all. "Only it's not just your uncle is it? Roxton, is it?"
"Marguerite, please..."
"No really, Roxton. Is that what you think? Are you having second thoughts? Your heart has changed? I am not good enough for your family? The plateau was great, but in the harsh light of London, I just don't measure up? Is that it? Tell me!" Her voice quivered at the end, her eyes almost begging him to lie. She had put all her trust in him and she felt as though her whole world was crumbling. 'How could I have been so stupid?'
"Marguerite, it's not-"
"Do you still love me? John, answer me, do you still love me?" She had interrupted him, realizing suddenly that he had not said 'I love you' since the first day she had been back. She waited with her eyes closed for his answer. She knew as long as he loved her, they could overcome anything.
He was trapped. He could not lie, but he did not want to hurt her. He had no clue what was going on in his head or heart right now. He knew, though, she deserved the truth. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "I don't know... I just don't know anymore." With that he left the room, unable to take the tears he knew would be on her face. He quickly walked straight out the door of the estate into his car. He needed a drink... more than one. Anything to take away the pain he just caused.
Marguerite stood in her room. She quickly checked to make sure everything was right. She walked swiftly to John's room and placed the note and the ring on the mantle of the fireplace. She turned down the hall and to the front door. At the door, she picked up her old suitcase, brushed the tears from her eyes and walked out the door to her taxi, never once looking back.
Stay Tuned for Chapter 6: It Don't Mean a Thing... Coming to a computer near you (and way sooner than you think!)