An Unnatural Beanstalk: A Retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk (Entwined Tales Book 2)

by Brittany Fichter

  “We’ll find a way to stop him and get you out . . . without letting him hurt your family,” Jack said softly. “I promise.”

  Eva’s eyes pricked at the corners. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  How long they stood like that, she couldn’t tell. It couldn’t have been more than a minute or so, but for some reason, it felt like an eternity. Finally, however, she had enough sense to take a deep, steadying breath and look down at the work before her.

  “I suppose we should continue searching if we’re ever going to find this ridiculous ledger.” She gave a strangled laugh. “So far, I’ve read far more than I wish to about dachshunds, fermenting winter berries, and the art of knitting magic mittens for babies.”

  “This man really is mad.” Jack shook his head. Then he sighed and looked up at the ceiling-high bookshelves, every single one filled completely with ledgers. “How are we going to find one single—”

  Before he could finish, footsteps sounded in the hall and paused in front of the door. Jack grabbed Eva by the arm and pushed her under the desk then crawled behind it himself. The doorknob rattled, and Eva felt her stomach turn. This was it. Someone would discover them, and the duke would be informed. She would be placed under constant surveillance, locked away in her room, and the duke would use one of his horrible magic baubles to put an end to Jack. He’d probably make her watch and take notes in one of his stupid ledgers.

  But to her relief, whoever it was didn’t have a key, because after a moment, they resumed their walk down the hall.

  “I don’t think we’ll be finding that goose tonight,” Jack whispered. “When is he supposed to come back?”

  “The day after tomorrow.”

  “Well.” Jack stood and held out a hand. She took it, and he helped her up. “Then I suppose we shall just have to resume our goose hunt tomorrow. But in the meantime, milady.” He picked up his platter and the goblets he’d tossed on the floor when they’d come in. “Would you prefer wine or cider?”

  Eva giggled and slapped his arm playfully. She knew she should be disappointed that they hadn’t found the ledger. With each passing day, they grew closer to whatever end the duke had planned. But beneath what should have been disappointment was also relief, and . . . dare she think it? Excitement. For the first time in her life, she was looking forward to spending an evening alone with a boy.

  And, if she was going to be very truthful, a handsome one at that.

  9

  It’s Not My Fault You’re Stumpy

  “ . . . and the next time we have a visitor of status, I do wish you would slouch a bit. It’s improper to be above your superior, my harp.” The duke stopped in the middle of the little bridge and gave Eva an appraising look, much like Eva’s father gave the horses he considered buying at auctions. “At least your figure is decent. Slim, but rounded enough to satisfy all feminine curves.” He turned back to the path and began walking again. “We’ll need to make sure to lower your chair, though . . .”

  “It’s not my fault you’re stumpy,” Eva grumbled as she followed.

  “What was that?”

  “Those gourds over there look bumpy.”

  “If he refers to your feminine curves one more time,” Jack leaned forward and hissed, “I’m going to hit him.”

  “What was that, my harp? You really must learn to speak up,” the duke called back.

  Eva plastered a false smile on her face, hoping desperately that he hadn’t heard Jack’s threat. “Having such a . . . keen eye for propriety must make life rather interesting.”

  The duke’s eyes grew wide with the praise, and a beatific smile lit his face. “Though I cannot in truth say that I haven’t studied social graces with zeal in order to perfect such abilities, I can say in earnest that much of my taste is all very natural to me.”

  Jack and Eva shared a glance. For all the duke’s talk about social graces, it would be a miracle if he could manage one meal without talking with food in his mouth. Or talking at all.

  But he continued talking, missing their interactions completely. “In fact,” he said, stopping to study one of the bean fields at the foot of the little mountain, “it made my life rather difficult when I was a young boy and no one, with the exception of my dear mother, may she rest in peace,” he stopped and placed his hand over his heart briefly, “believed or took heed of my warnings. But I can offer my services to their full extent through my elevated status now that I am master of title and property. And you, my harp, will be there by my side to learn and then pass on such social graces to our children and anyone who has the grand benefit of sitting under your tutelage.”

  Eva was saved from having to form a gracious response when the duke led them from one field to the next, and in his fervor on the subject, forgot to hold the gate so that she could pass through behind him. Jack leapt forward and grabbed it before the gate could swing shut on Eva. But in doing so, he tilted his platter and the goblets tipped and splashed all over her.

  Eva let out a shriek as the cold liquid ran down her hair and face, but then she burst into giggles. The dress she was wearing had been requested specifically by the duke that morning, and it was her least favorite of all the gowns in her wardrobe.

  “What a shame,” she said, attempting to smother her laughter when the duke turned and stared at her in a horrified stupor. “Sir, I’m afraid I shall have to return to the house and change my dress.” She held her sopping gown away from her legs. “I know you have business to attend to here, so my cupbearer and I will return to you as soon as we can.” She turned briskly to begin walking back to the house, overjoyed to have an hour to herself, for she would certainly need a bath, when the duke followed.

  “I must say, that’s the third spill this week!” When neither Eva nor Jack stopped, he ran between them and blocked their path to the house. Placing his hands on his hips, he glared up at Jack. “You, James—”

  “Jack.”

  “ . . . are possibly the clumsiest servant I’ve ever met. If you wish to continue in my services, I suggest you learn a bit of grace.” He eyed Jack’s uniform warily. “And perhaps how to look presentable as well.”

  “I really do need to change my dress,” Eva said, hoping to draw the duke’s attention away from Jack again. “May I go now?” How she hated that question. If she were marrying a man who was even half as pompous as the duke, she was sure he wouldn’t make her ask permission to do things like leave his presence. But she had softened her demands on the duke whenever Jack was present. He already disliked the younger man, and she didn’t want to give him any reasons to get rid of Jack, particularly as the duke’s dismissals of his servants usually involved magic.

  The duke gave a dramatic sigh and looked out at the fields longingly. “Very well, but when you are finished, I should like to see you again.”

  “On this particular hill?” Eva asked.

  “No, meet me in my study. I have some material I should like for you to read.”

  Eva nodded and turned to go. As she went, though, her heart sank lower than it had been in weeks.

  In the four weeks since Jack had arrived, Eva felt as though she had rediscovered herself. Though she still played the unwilling fiancée, bowing to the duke’s wishes grudgingly so as not to endanger those around her, she knew that as soon as the duke was gone on another two- or three-day trip, she would once again get a taste of what it felt like to be herself. Jack, though somewhat unlikely to bathe on a regular basis and fairly inept in the realm of the social graces that the duke so highly favored, was completely and utterly without pretense. Never had Eva felt so comfortable around another person that she wasn’t related to. So if obeying the duke meant keeping Jack around for a little longer, that was a price Eva was willing to pay.

  If she was truly honest with herself, she was forced to admit that she was actually enjoying life in a way she hadn’t in over a year. Though Jack was supposed to be silent whenever he posed as her attendant, he always found little ways to remind her that he
was there, ways that would have never even crossed the duke’s mind. For instance, a rainstorm of epic proportions had come several weeks earlier. Eva had requested leave from their usual walk the next morning because of the mud, but the duke insisted that they continue with their exercise, rain or none. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he also insisted that she wear the most ridiculous high-heeled shoes she owned.

  Not once on their walk had the duke turned to see how she fared. Instead, he waxed long about himself, only stopping to chide her when her progress grew too slow for his liking. Jack, on the other hand, had been there with a steady arm every time she had slipped and fallen. And as soon as they were out of sight of the duke once they reached the house, he had let her lean on him all the way up to her room to nurse the ankle she had twisted during one of her falls.

  She had also found immense comfort in knowing she wasn’t completely insane whenever the duke made ridiculous requests or spent an excessive amount of time critiquing her person. Had she been alone, Eva might have been tempted to believe him after hundreds of such vexing sessions as the duke told her how she really ought to present herself. How inadequate she was. How he wished her to be shorter or more delicate or to have longer eyelashes.

  The insults had stung at first, and during her first three weeks alone at the duke’s home, she had fallen into danger of beginning to entertain questions as to whether she really did need better features. But since Jack had come, all she had to do was turn around for a fleeting glance at her friend, and with the roll of his eyes or the slight furrow of his brow, she knew that she really wasn’t as bad off as the duke’s lectures made her sound.

  There were many times, unfortunately, that Jack couldn’t be with her to lessen the verbal blows of her captor. Whenever the duke was not on one of his mysterious trips, he generally insisted that Eva stay in his study with him while he wrote in his ledgers and explained his notes in great detail. Jack was also prohibited from leaving the outdoor sleeping situation, as were all servants and workers, whenever Eva played her harp. And though Jack’s presence at first had merely been a breath of fresh air, a subtle reminder of the world outside, Eva found herself craving his attention more and more with each passing day. She sometimes wished to stumble, simply so she could feel the warmth of his steady hand whenever he reached out to catch her, and whenever the duke insisted on holding her hand and pleading for just a small kiss, she couldn’t help wondering if she would have refused so readily if Jack had been the one to ask.

  “Are you feeling well?”

  “What?” Eva looked up and realized Jack had asked her a question. They were almost to the house, and she had wasted the majority of their precious time alone brooding.

  “You look a bit pale,” Jack said, taking her gently by the arm and turning her to face him. “I asked if you’re feeling well.” He raised the back of his hand and placed it gently against her cheek. “You feel a bit warm.”

  “Oh,” Eva tried to sound lighthearted as she resumed her walk back to the house. “For not having a particularly attentive mother, you seem well adept at assessing the health of others.”

  Jack gave her a wan smile as he followed her. “You forget, I have two little brothers. While my mother doesn’t seem to dislike them the way she does me, she was never one to coddle any of us once we were past infancy.” A shadow flitted across his face, but it was gone so quickly Eva wasn’t sure if it had really even been there. “My father, however,” his voice softened, “was very attentive up until the day he died.”

  Eva resisted the urge to take his hand and squeeze it, and instead satisfied herself with giving his shoulder an awkward pat as they walked.

  “I suppose I’m getting tired of the charade,” she said. “We’re no closer to discovering his plans, and I fear his goals are nearing completion.” She stopped and looked up at the big house as they moved beneath its shade. The noon sun was growing rather hot, and her dress was sticky with the residue of Jack’s spilled goblets. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before she stepped closer and pitched her voice low. “I’m scared, Jack. What do we do if—”

  “We’ll find a way, Eva.” He placed a callused hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. “I’m not going to leave you to him. I promise.”

  “What about your brothers?” she whispered. “I don’t know how much longer this will take.”

  “Mortimer said he would take care of them until I was finished here. It was part of the deal.” He glanced around and nodded at the house. “We’d better keep moving before someone spots us.”

  He was right. They’d stayed out talking too long already. Eva sighed and headed toward the door.

  “What has you so worried all of a sudden?” he asked when they found the inner hall clear of servants.

  “I suppose it’s this meeting he wants.” She shook her head as they turned a corner. “Every time he—” She paused and Jack held up his platter to a proper height as two young servants passed them. They only spoke again when the servants were long gone. Unfortunately, they were close to Eva’s room by then.

  “Every time he wants to speak with me alone, I just know he’s going to have a wedding date. Then we’ll be too late, and he’ll get everything he wants after all.” They came to a stop outside Eva’s door. Eva wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. “I wish Rynn were here. She would know what to do.”

  Jack frowned and rubbed his neck thoughtfully with his free hand. “Well,” he finally said, “whatever he says, I’ll be right there behind you, and that means we’ll be one step ahead this time.”

  Eva tapped his nose with her finger and gave him a sad smile. “You’re sweet. But I get the unfortunate suspicion that this is one meeting he’ll want to have alone.”

  An hour later, after a bath had been drawn and her clothes and shoes had been changed, Eva stood dutifully in the duke’s study. What seemed like such a cozy, comfortable room on the nights when Eva and Jack searched for the mysterious Golden Goose ledger felt cold and inhospitable during the day. Or maybe it was just because the duke was present. The only comfort she could find was in Jack’s silent presence behind her. Even if he was only a servant, and a false one at that, he was there.

  The duke walked in with an air of confidence, his idiotic smile spread from ear to ear. He paused on the way to his desk and examined Eva with his beady gaze. When she’d first come to the manor, it had unnerved her the way his eyes examined her person, always looking for a runaway lock of hair or a wrinkle that had been put in the skirt of her dress, but it no longer got under her skin. One day, she promised herself, the tides would turn, and without endangering Jack or anyone else, she would be able to meet his critical stare with a good hard cuff to those sickly pale cheeks. Until then, however, she simply satisfied herself with imagining it over and over again in her head.

  “Quite decent,” he finally said, nodding slowly at her gown. “While I’m partial to the dress you were wearing this morning, I’m surprisingly fond of this one as well. It makes you look shorter.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Eva saw Jack’s hands flex.

  “What exactly was it that you called me here for?” Eva asked before Jack could get himself into trouble. She was shocked the duke had allowed him to remain even this long.

  “Ah, yes.” The duke went around to the other side of his desk and picked up a book. After blowing a layer of dust off the top, he walked back and handed it to Eva. “While I have enjoyed our exercise and concurrent discourse, I have decided that with the pinnacle of our plans drawing nearer, it’s high time that you become familiar with your future duties.”

  “Duties?”

  “Your duties as queen, of course.”

  Eva looked down at the book in her hands. She didn’t dare open it yet, but the sheer thickness of the volume was mildly terrifying. Flurries of angst, much like the flurries in a winter snowstorm, began swirling in her gut. Were they really so close to the end of his plans already? She had hoped for more
time, the remainder of the summer at least, before she had to make a decision on what to do regarding the duke. Determined not to let her anxiety get the better of her, however, Eva licked her lips and decided to take advantage of the situation as best she could.

  “When you say queen,” she said slowly, “you really mean to say that . . .” Her mind worked as fast as it could trying to come up with another way to draw his secrets out of him. “You mean you want me to marry the king?” She knew better, of course. But he already thought her a dunce compared to his impressive intellect. She might as well use this against him, anything to work those secrets out of his tight little grasp.

  As she’d expected, the duke put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. “There are some days, my harp—”

  “I told you not to call me that.”

  “ . . . when I wonder just how many ways your parents neglected your education and the building up of your intellect. Why else would I have spent all this time writing you poems and stories and singing the songs of my own creation?”

  Oh, the songs. Those terrible, terrible songs. Jack had once aptly likened them to a cow attempting to sing.

  “But you are only second in line for the throne. King Eston is only thirty and five years, and from what I hear, in quite good health. He still has much time to find a wife and have children.”

  “True as that may be, my cousin has little desire to raise a family. He’s too busy waltzing around with whatever woman he wishes. Wooing for fun, rather than for keeps, as he likes to say. And it’s causing no small amount of concern amongst the nobles.” He stopped his pacing and gave her a fierce smirk. “Believe me when I say that our chances of gaining the throne naturally are quite good. And if all goes according to plan, they will be even better.”

  He paused and rubbed a finger on one of the bookshelves, his brow momentarily creasing when he examined his finger. “That, of course, brings us back to the topic of your education. And as you are obviously lacking in an understanding of the finer points of etiquette and the responsibilities of queen, I want you to have this book read by supper of two days henceforth.”