<strong>In Hot Water</strong><br/><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i284.photobucket.com/albums/ll4/ElusiveGypsyRose/1%20-%20Characters/Lady%201.jpg)<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Abigail Meghan<br/>O'Hourihane<br/>aka Meg Haney</strong></span></div></div><div class="floatleft">(http://)</div>There was a moment of relief when Captain Bray strode forward and delivered the news of the intruder.  While he might not have been there for her, both instinct and logic said otherwise.  Those who had plagued her family had not stopped at murder before -- why would they now?  Though she had no proof, no bloody blade, to point at and say, "There ... there is the evidence," she was certain.<br/><br/>Captain Bray was as well, and she turned to meet the fury in his gaze with instinctive fortrightness.  Her answer to his question died in her throat, with nothing more emerging than a faint squeak as she took in the half-bared chest, the pulse racing in his throat as the picture of him and Lord Ellery rose clear and hot before her eyes.  Her eyes dropped, and her color rose as her eyes ended up instead at below waist level before dropping to his feet.<br/><br/>She had brought her trouble with her, and now she had repaid her rescuers with discovery.Guilt was an effective silencer, even when logic said that only a portion of that guilt had been earned.<br/><br/>When Lord Ellery voiced his demand that she not be alone beyond the confines of her room, the instinctive rejection of such a demand, no matter his right to make it, was kept submerged by the weight of her guilt, and the equally guilty knowledge that her reaction to what she now knew had been anything but impersonal.<br/><br/>To protest, she would have to meet his eyes, and how could she do that?  His or Captain Bray's, made all the worse for the concern she could sense beneath the anger.<br/><br/>She nodded, though the nod was in response to his assessment of the situation rather than his command.    The sarcasm almost provided enough of a lash to spur her tongue into squirming out beneath the weight ... almost.  Yet the want to retreat from all the eyes that were upon her now until she had settled her own thoughts.<br/><br/>Until she had tamed them.<br/><br/>She was already turning to go, escort or not, when Lord Ellery countermanded his original order.  For a moment, her shoulders slumped as her step faltered, and then straightened as she forced herself to exhale.  Her head lifted, and she nodded to the man already stepping forward, and proceeded.<br/><br/>There was no doubt in her mind that he had realized what she had seen.   Nor was there any doubt that what she had witnessed was not meant for common knowledge.  Meg was well aware that there were secrets, and then there were secrets.  The news of her indiscretion had been known by the small contingent of servants in the household well before it had come to her parents attention.   Such things, she knew, were not 'done' among the nobility, along with a number of other things that were not done, yet were.<br/><br/>What would she have done, in those early days, had her secret been discovered by another.  It had been, of course, and all to the good, yet she did not appreciate the manner of its discovery or revelation.  It would be poor repayment of rescue and kindness to gossip, though she was also well aware that this was the sort of thing her sister would have reveled in and used for her advantage, softly at first and then with a hammer.<br/><br/>But Meg was not her sister.  Even if she did not suspect that Lord Ellery and the intense Captain Bray would have responded to such threat of exposure in similar manner to the one she had employed, she would not repay generosity with avarice.<br/><br/>Yet she did not look forward to what would surely come next, be it the lecture about wandering, climbing trees, or what she had seen.  Yet she would use what time she had to prepare, to ensure that she brought no more trouble to the household than she could help.  The actions of the assassin were part of a storm she could not control.  Her own actions, and the consequences of them, she could.<br/><br/>Her escort gave her a sympathetic glance and just the hint of a like smile as he ushered her into the room, gave the room a quick inspection -- as if the assassin might have had friends who had not chosen the same entry point -- and then left after closing the curtain.  She could hear the thunk of his boots as he took up position outside the door.<br/><br/>To sit demurely, or otherwise, seemed quite beyond the question.  In any event, there were bits of bark on her skirt that needed cleaning before she subjected Lord Ellery's furniture to it, so she crossed to the window and looked out through the minuscule opening, peering this way and that, though the shadows of movement she saw were as likely more searching, or simple rustles of leaves and branches rather than creeping men.<br/><br/>When Asher and Graham entered, leaving the manservant behind to guard, Meg waited only until the door was closed to speak, though she took some care not to speak too loudly.  She did, however, meet the gaze of both men squarely, having commanded her eyes, if not the flush that colored her cheek.  She would not force either to ask.<br/><em><br/>"Yes.  I did not climb the tree for that purpose, but I did see.  I am sorry for the intrusion, and for the trouble I have caused.  It is not my wish, or intent, to cause more."</em><br/><br/>Despite the seriousness of the situation, a hundred questions rose to her mind, and tumbled about before the dam of her lips, which she snapped shut before they could rush out.  It was none of her business, though a rather traitorous part of her wished it were.  Perhaps it was just that it would be a relief to concern herself with matters of the heart and flesh rather than darker thoughts of murder and hidden enemies.