Roxton took off after Marguerite, swearing under his breath. They'd already lost the kid, and she hadn't even been on the plateau for two days. He could barely keep up with Marguerite as she zigzagged all over the forest, constantly calling to the child. He'd never seen her showing so much concern for anyone. He had to admit he was a little surprised, as they had known the girl not even two days. "Marietta!" He heard Marguerite, somewhere ahead of him. He ran after her, also calling to the girl.
When Marguerite headed back towards him, he almost ran into her. He caught her arm and turned, running with her, "She must've gone another way! But I could've swore the last time I saw her she was over towards this edge of the field. Maybe she got turned around." Roxton let go of her arm and responded, "I doubt it. If she'd doubled back we would've seen her." They continued to search the woods, Marguerite becoming frantic, and Roxton wondered if something had happened to Marietta. Finally, nearly an hour later, they headed back towards the meadow, fear gripping their hearts. "Marguerite, I know it's a horrible thought, but she might have gotten-" Marguerite quickly cut him off, "Don't say it, Roxton. I don't want to hear it." He complied with her wishes, but worried silently that they wouldn't be able to save the girl.
The couple entered the meadow, preparing to search in another direction, when they saw Marietta sitting in the middle of the field, picking flowers. The pair exchanged looks, and quickly approached the child. "Marietta!" Marguerite called, running ahead of him to kneel in front of the child. "Marietta, where were you!" The girl looked up at her and grinned, "Mummy!" she happily greeted, then looked above Marguerite's shoulder as Roxton stood behind her. "She must've just been playing right inside the woods and we missed her, thinking she'd gone in further." He offered to the heiress. She stood up and frowned, "I think we should go back to the treehouse." Roxton saw the change in her emotion, and knew now was not the time to argue, "I'll get our things." Marguerite, alone with the child, sat beside her and stated, "You aren't supposed to scare people like that, Marietta. It isn't nice." Big brown eyes met hers, and the girl asked, "Mummy scare?" The woman's heart melted, and tears threatened. "Of course I was, Marietta. I don't know what it is about you, but you've caught my heart." she quietly added, "As much as I wish you hadn't." Marietta just laughed, and Marguerite wondered if it was she the girl was laughing at. Picking her up, the raven-haired woman hugged her briefly. The child wrapped her arms around her 'mother's' neck and laid her head on Marguerite's shoulder, "Love, Mummy. Love"
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The walk back to the treehouse had been uneventfully, much to Marguerite's happiness. They arrived back shortly before sunset, and Marguerite quickly retreated to her room, leaving Roxton to look after Marietta. She thought about the events of the day. The child had scared her today, running off. Marguerite was afraid she was letting herself get too close to the young girl, and couldn't understand it. She tried to keep her heart frozen to everyone, yet this girl had commanded all of her attention and affection. Then what she'd said…the heiress wasn't entirely comfortable with the girl's reference of her as her mother, and know this thing today… she wasn't prepared for such an obvious vow of affection, from Marietta or Roxton.
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Marguerite sat by her mirror brushing her hair nearly two weeks later, attempting to get rid of some of the snarls that would be horrid to try to get out later if let stay. She paused for a moment and, looking in her mirror, gasped at the sight that met her eyes. She saw behind her in the mirror a miniature version of herself. Her long, curling dark hair and serious expression. Her creamy skin and intense eyes. But she realized that those eyes were brown, not the blue gray color of her own. Whipping around, she saw Marietta standing on the bed, watching Marguerite, her face the one the woman had saw, so like her own. The heiress stared at her small doppelganger in shock and confusion. How had she not realized how much the child looked like her before now? Was it because the child's hair always seemed to be in disarray, and her clothing was so different from Marguerite's? No, because those things were still true at that moment. Was it because she always seemed to be in motion, flitting around constantly, like a little nymph? Whatever the reason, Marguerite saw clearly now the mysterious resemblance, and thought that it was strange for two stranger's to be so alike. "There's no such thing as coincidences". That's what she'd told Roxton once, and she knew they'd seen enough on the plateau alone for her to believe that.
She brought her thoughts back to the present, and realized she was now being watched curiously. Switching her attention back to her mirror for a only a fraction of a second, she quickly asked, "Weren't you supposed to be watching Roxton to make sure he didn't get into any trouble, Marietta?" the girl giggled, "Daddy!" Marguerite frowned, but then remembered the conversation she'd shared with the hunter earlier. She'd allowed herself to open up, and now wasn't the time to be taking back that decision. "Sure. I suppose he can look after himself for a while, though." Turning back to her mirror and pulling the brush through her thick unruly hair, she managed to start to get it untangled. They stayed that way for a number of minutes, the child on the bed, watching the woman at the mirror. Finally, after Marguerite had gotten out as many snarls as possible, she went to sit on the bed beside the girl, requesting, "Turn that way, Marietta." Obeying silently, Marietta turned away from Marguerite. The woman gently brought the brush down through the child's curls, so like her own. She felt a sudden pang, and realized that as much as she did for this child, it wasn't her own. As she brushed away small leaves that had gotten stuck in Marietta's hair, Marguerite's heart seemed to soften. This normal, everyday gesture of a mother caring for her child made her cry out inwardly. Even if Marietta wasn't hers, the girl thought she was, and in that very next moment, when Marietta sighed, "Love Mummy.", Marguerite knew that she'd do nothing to make the girl think otherwise. She'd had no parent's of her own anyway, she was an orphan. Marguerite didn't want to think of this beautiful little girl, who'd captured her heart so easily, being shuffled between foster families. People who thought they wanted a child but couldn't handle it. She didn't want Marietta to ever have to scrub floors, or be punished in the horrible ways that unwanted children often were.
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Roxton was in the lab talking to Challenger about the day's hunt, on which he and Veronica had brought back enough meat to replenish their supply for a long while, and Challenger's scientific defeat that had occurred when he almost blew himself up while the other's were away. "And Marguerite and Marietta? I would've assumed that Veronica would be more of the mothering type. But I agree with you that the child may be just the thing that Marguerite needs. She's always been the most, uh… secretive. You know. The child may help her to…uh…" Roxton laughed, "To help her become civil for once? It's okay Challenger, we all know enough about our Miss Krux to know that she's not the easiest person in the world." The man nodded, then paused a moment before tentatively beginning, "One other thing I wanted to talk to you about." When he didn't continue, the hunter prodded, "Yes? Well, out with it, George!" "Yes, well the thing is, I know that the child addresses Marguerite as her mother." he offered, trying to find his footing for what he wanted to say. Roxton grinned, "Yes. Apparently she sees me as her father, too! Marguerite wasn't all too happy about that, as you can imagine." Challenger, however, did not share in his mirth. "John, I don't think that you should be encouraging this girl to think that the two of you are her parent's. If she continues to believe that, then what will she think when we finally find a way off of this plateau, back to England, and she goes back to her orphanage?" John's face dismayed something reminiscent of anger, or disappointment. He hadn't thought of when they got off the plateau, but he knew that they may be stuck here for a long time. "Challenger, you know that I have always respected your opinion, as I always will, but this time, I can't agree with you. That child may be with us for years. You know that as well as I do. So does Marguerite. In my opinion, she can call me whatever she likes, if it makes her happy. She's a sweet child, Challenger. We've all seen it, even in the short time she's been here." Challenger's rebuttal was angry, "You will show her love and affection for the time being, but when we are back in England she will be back at the orphanage, parentless! That is not fair to her, John, and I would think that Marguerite of all people wouldn't want to torture her like that!" Roxton's face was furious, but he remained calm, restraining himself. He quietly replied, "Of course she wouldn't. The child won't go back to an orphanage, George. I'll see to that. She's as much a part of our lives now as any of our own children would be. She'll stay with us." The scientist looked up, his anger fading and becoming doubt, "Who is the us, John? You don't know yet if she will stay beside you, no matter how much you love her. Or how much she loves you." The hunter's eyes widened, surprised at the man's knowledge of he and Marguerite, and his face went pale, "I know, George. I know that. But a man can pray." He turned to leave, but he paused to add firmly, "But that child will be ours, forever, Challenger. You can count on that." He left, mind a whirl of thoughts.
The older man watched him go and sighed. "How I hope you're right, John. How I hope"
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Roxton walked silently towards Marguerite's room, where she was working on a dress that she was making for Marietta, who only had one. He told her what Challenger had said to him, and she listened soberly. "What did you say to him?" she asked when he paused. Looking into her frosty eyes, he replied, "I told him that I wouldn't let her go back to an orphanage. And I won't. My question is, are you gonna be there for her? For me? I don't want her to have you and then get yanked away, but I won't give her up. I won't give up either of you. Marguerite, come back to London with me, as my wife. Please. That's all I ask of you. Agree to be with me forever and I'll be the luckiest man alive." She looked away and stated, "Roxton, I can't…" He started to stand, knowing what she'd say. She couldn't do what he was asking of her, she wouldn't. She quickly grasped his arm so he couldn't leave, "John, wait!" He pulled away and walked towards the door but she quickly stood and called, "Yes!" He stopped, and neither moved. For a long time, the air was still. Then he turned back slightly to look at her. "Yes?" he asked. She sighed, wary, then nodded, "I-I will. Yes."
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A.N.-sorry bout the paragraphs running in together, i seperate them beforehand and they always end up like you guys see them. sorry. Thanks for the reviews, though! My lil' muses did a happy dance! lol. Thanks!
