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“Down there… On the bank. ” Marguerite’s voice again.
When Brendan set her down at the water’s edge, Tyler stood within arm’s reach behind her, Brendan in front of her, both men wary, protective. Tyler didn’t have to convey his concern; he was sure it was obvious in his eyes. And perhaps because of Brendan’s memories of her, he understood immediately where Sarah had not and stayed just as close to her.
Marguerite stood, looking out at the movement of the water, the blue sky, a formation of pelicans soaring above.
“Your adopted parents were good to you. ” She spoke as succinctly as if they’d been having an interactive conversation all along, though Tyler saw her lick her dry lips, swallow.
“Yes, Mistress. I love them. ”
“That doesn’t matter. Children will love a monster if we think it’s family. We love against everything that says don’t love. ” She stared at the water moving around her ankles. “Did you know I’ve spent years donating my grandparents’ inheritance to different charities, not in spite of, but for love of my family? I wanted to help pay their karmic debt, to hope they find healing and peace together sooner, become who they were…before. Even though I can’t bear to look at a photo of them. ” Her gaze turned to him briefly. “But your adopted parents were good to you. I’m glad. I was worried. ”
She nodded, as if settling something with herself, then began to unbutton the front of the dress clumsily with her right hand. She stopped, impatience in her gaze. Glanced toward Brendan. “I want this off. ”
The tone, so close to that of the imperious Mistress they knew she could be, startled both men. Brendan’s gaze shifted to Tyler. “With your permission…?” She looked at Tyler. “Will you trust me?”
He studied her quiet expression, the weak sway of her undernourished body. “To a point,” he said at last. “My heart wants to trust you, but my fear for you?
??” Breathing a sigh through his nose, he gave Brendan a curt nod. “She can’t lift the left arm. ”
Brendan moved before her, unbuttoned each button carefully. She was completely naked under it except for the clavicle brace on her upper body and she lifted her chin as the dress fluttered back, showing that she was feeling the breeze on her skin, perhaps even enjoying it. Brendan eased her arm out of the sling so he could guide the dress off her entirely, as she’d demanded. He was as slow and patient as Tyler could wish, but Tyler saw the press of Marguerite’s lips, the tremor run through her. It made him wonder if he should have given her more pain medication this morning, since he’d been too shook up from last night to give her more than the bare minimum.
“My deepest apologies, Mistress,” Brendan said. When he began to guide her arm back into the sling, she shook her head and moved forward, taking a step sideways to move around him. When she stumbled unsteadily, both men moved in, their hands brushing as they made sure she didn’t fall. But she proceeded forward into the water.
Wearing only the necklace and the brace, she took one step deeper, then another.
The men stayed right with her. Marguerite’s eyes remained on the horizon, but she felt them around her, their concern and caring a bulwark on either side. She was absently surprised that Brendan hadn’t backed away when Tyler had moved closer, but both were apparently determined to keep her safe. Her mind rolled the thought around, but was curiously blank, peaceful. The cool touch of the water on her skin soothed as she felt it slide over everything she was. Blood, muscle, sinew, scars, beliefs… Marie Peninski. Marguerite Perruquet. A trusting child, a scarred teenager and now a woman who had lived an interesting life, to say the least. As her mind moved over the memories Brendan had stirred, they brought her forward to more recent images.
Chloe’s laughter, the children playing in her park. Tyler’s amber eyes, his easy touch. Brendan’s beauty. His devotion. The tea combination that Mr. Reynolds would bring in next. The embrace of the sky as she leaped out into the vastness of it. The impatiens she had decided to plant by the kitchen door in that bare shady spot that needed it, that was now only a mud puddle. A life without fear. A life filled with love and friendship. And suddenly, she found she wasn’t quite so tired anymore. He was gone. And she was free. Perhaps always could have been free, the moment she decided she was.
She’d reached her waist now. Tyler’s palpable apprehension was like a warm blanket that wrapped around her, making her feel safe, loved. She turned and reached out her uninjured hand. When he took it, she let her knees go and dropped below the water’s surface, immersing herself, but keeping tight hold of his hand. Knowing that he would not have permitted it otherwise, but she didn’t reach out to him only because of that. As she let the silent Gulf waters embrace her, she remembered.
Remembered her and David in that cocoon of warmth, the hold of their mother, perhaps the Mother, when all things were possible and perfect. Tyler’s strong fingers reminded her that he’d filled the aching emptiness the loss of her brother had left her with for twenty long years.
His hand tightened on hers and she let him draw her toward him and up. She found the strength to push off the sand with her own feet. Surging out of the water into sunlight and the fire of his eyes, she felt it move in her, tears and happiness both.
Tyler caught her as she pressed against him, soaking what remained dry of his shirt. The water lapped at the hips of his jeans. She turned her head, her eyes reaching out to Brendan, bringing him to them. The man took her taped hand, his fingers holding hers gently as she pressed her face into Tyler’s neck, breathed him in. Renewal. Rebirth.
When there was love like this they were possible, no matter what the darkness.
Quiet determination rose in her to plant those impatiens, nurse the blooms and bring them to life. Giving them the chance to be as vibrant as they could, in whatever amount of time the world would give them. The fear she’d always felt in Tyler’s arms was simply gone. Komal was right. Of all the things to fear in the world, the fear of being loved and loving back was the most absurd.
“Master, please forgive me,” she murmured. “Forgive me for not being strong enough. ”
Tyler pressed his forehead to hers, a shuddering going through those lean muscles as he closed his eyes. “You tore my heart out, Marguerite. ”
“I know. ” She kissed his cheekbone, his closed eyes. “Thank you for loving me beyond your heart. Can you forgive me?”
“If you promise never to leave me. If you agree to marry me. ”
She lifted her head then, felt joy flood her. “That’s blackmail,” she said, her voice not quite steady. “And you’re as persistent as a terrier. ”
“Angel. ”
“Irritant. ”
He smiled then, caressed her wet hair. “Say yes, or I’ll dunk you and hold you under until you agree. ”
“Brendan will protect me from your bullying. ”
