Free My Lady's Guardian by Gayle Callen

what they were doing. The twins wanted to know if he returned merely because he'd heard about the king's bequest. She held her breath, as if she, too, needed to hear the answer.
    "I grew restless in France. Battles and tournaments held little allure, so it was time to find my place in life, to look for a good English girl to marry."
    She felt herself blush again. Lies, all lies. As if he would ever trust anyone.
    "Please, ladies, do not think I considered myself worthy of Mistress Margery." Gareth leaned forward in his chair, pitching his voice lower and looking deeply into her eyes. "But I knew I had to see you again."
    Margery thought that even Anne sighed.
    Though it was all an illusion, part of her clung to his words. She wished that a man would want her just for herself—not her money or status or property.
    But then, Peter hadn't wanted any of that, either. He had wanted to conquer her body, to make a fool of her. Even in the spirit of make-believe, she couldn't let another man think he was seducing her so easily.
    "Then how did you find me, Sir Gareth?" she asked, rather amazed at her own cool voice.
    He raised one eyebrow, then sat back. "I went to London first and asked about you at court."
    She thought she detected the first hint of wariness in his voice, and warmed to this game they played with the truth. "And what did they tell you?"
    "That you had come here, to one of your new holdings."
    "And what else?"
    He looked away, and seemed almost to squirm in his chair. Was this another act? Why did she sense a deep mystery about him?
    "Mistress Margery, I—"
    "The truth, Sir Gareth." She wanted to laugh aloud at that.
    "I heard that you are free to choose a husband."
    He suddenly dropped forward on his knees, practically in her lap. Cicely and Anne shrieked and started to giggle. He took her hands, pressing his lips against her knuckles.
    "Mistress Margery," he whispered, lifting his head to look into her face, so close she could feel the warmth of his body, "I freely admit I rejoiced on hearing that you are looking for a husband. Can you blame me? I am looking for a wife. I knew what kind of girl you were, and I thought I would see what kind of woman you had become." He looked
    down her body, then back up. "A magnificent woman."
    "And very rich," she said, her cynical smile unforced.
    Gareth stiffened, searching her eyes. She pulled her hands from his, then watched as he got to his feet. He towered above her, and the twins no longer giggled as they, too, looked up at him in awe.
    "You believe the worst of me?" he asked softly.
    "I do not know what to believe."
    "Even after everything that happened when we were children?"
    "Men change." She knew that from experience. Men lied, too.
    He took a step backward, and his chair almost toppled to the floor. "I shall prove to you that my intentions are honorable. What would you have me do, mistress?"
    "Sir Gareth, only time will tell if you are honorable."
    There was an uncomfortable silence. Gareth stood between the three women, a big man who seemed too uncivilized for lutes and singing and embroidery. When she looked up at him, she saw bonfires in the wilderness, the howl of wild animals kept at bay, the protection and warmth of a man's body through the night.
    Anne cleared her throat. "Margery, would you like to play a game with me?"
    She shook away such dangerous, forbidden dreams, and quickly agreed. A contest was just the thing to distract her. Anne brought out the Tables board and playing pieces, and began to set them up at the head table.
    Gareth remained still, looking down on Margery, who stared at the fire, not at him. He reluctantly admired her quick wit and intelligent responses. To his surprise, he had almost enjoyed saying just enough of the truth to make her uneasy. He couldn't remember the last time he had had such a conversation with a woman.
    Or the last time he had become so easily lost in a woman's eyes. When she had stared up at him, he'd felt.. .strange,