Read My Lady's Guardian for Free Online Page B

danger?"
    Margery remembered the heat of his gaze, the touch of his lips on her hand. Of course it was all an act. She donned a grudging smile, and buried the dny pain that touched her heart. "I did suggest we keep your position a secret, but I never thought of— of this."
    "Then you approve?"
    She hesitated. "I can think of nothing better." She slowly frowned as she watched him remove garments from his bag. "Gareth, are you planning to court me wearing those clothes?"
    He stilled, and the gaze he lifted to her was even colder. She'd made a mistake.
    "I work hard for everything I have."
    "I know that!" she quickly said. "But you're in disguise now. I could have my brother Reynold send along some clothes. They might be a bit large for you, but James would certainly never part with any garments."
    Gareth shook his head. "Sounds like the James I remember."
    "Be easy on him. He has changed for the better since his marriage. He just.. .likes his clothes."
    He leaned against the bedpost, folding his arms across his chest. "You don't think your brothers would be suspicious as to why you're sending for good quality male garments?"
    She winced. "I hadn't thought of that."
    "I shall just tell everyone I lost most of my clothes in a storm off the coast."
    "You were never very good at telling stories."
    "When I chose to, I could be." His voice was suddenly low and gruff, not quite so cold. "The marshall once bribed me with gingerbread to keep you out of the stables so they could get some work done. How else do you think I amused you?"
    She didn't remember that. Unexpected tears pricked her eyes. Life was so uncomplicated then. She had spent her days following Gareth around, trying to get his attention.
    But everything had changed. He would be following her—and he was angry about it.
    "Regardless of how you feel, you still need some new clothes," she said awkwardly as she moved toward the door. "I'll talk to my seamstresses."
    "Hold!"
    Anger overwhelmed her sadness. "I am not one of your soldiers!"
    "One of my soldiers would make sure the corridor was empty if he didn't want to be seen leaving a certain room."
    She felt a momentary weakness at her stupidity. She had almost walked out of a man's bedchamber, regardless of who might be watching. Gareth opened the door, looked outside, then closed it again.
    '"Tis clear."
    Margery swallowed. "Thank you."
    He leaned against the door, too close to her, studying her face with that coolness she hated. "Perhaps you need a keeper more than a guard."
    She controlled the hurt that suffused her. "I'm not paying you for insults. Move away from the door."
    After Margery had gone, Gareth told himself that she deserved every cruel remark he had made. She and her family had thrown him away when he was no longer useful, like an enfeebled dog. Even his clothing wasn't fine enough for her.
    She was sdll a spoiled little girl, who had the "terrible" task of picking any man she wanted. If she thought this was such a dreadful problem, she didn't know what life was really like.
    But he had sworn an oath to protect her, and he could not turn his back on that. At least now he would be getting paid for it.
    Chapter 4
    After her argument with Gareth, Margery was too upset to return to the great hall. Her bedchamber usually soothed her; it was decorated with colorful tapestries, cushions, and draperies, things she brought with her wherever she traveled. And though she'd resigned herself to sleeping alone for the rest of her life, tonight she felt especially sad and uncertain. The king's bequest had changed her entire life—and not for the better, as he'd hoped.
    But then again, King Henry thought she was a normal young woman, with dreams of the perfect husband to fall in love with. He didn't know that she would never marry.
    How could she tell him without exposing all her sins? How could she tell him that she and Peter Fitzwilliam had—
    Margery burst into tears. She clutched her fists to her chest, trying to ease