“Jonathan Faercourt,” he said with a slight bow, “but my friends call me Jackie.”
A giggle rose in my throat, but I choked it down and curtsied instead. “A pleasure, Master Faercourt. My name is…” I hesitated, considering whether to tell him the truth. “My name is Grace.” I always liked the name better than Evelyn, anyway.
“Grace? You don’t seem sure about that.”
“Oh, you took me by surprise is all.”
“I didn’t intend to sneak up on you, but I was surprised to find anyone here.”
“Nonnie”—I motioned to my horse— “wanted to get away from the village and this seemed like a nice place for a horse to wander.”
Jackie studied me. His gaze made me feel translucent. “This is a nice place. It’s the reason I came here, too.”
“Do you live in the village?”
He turned and pointed through the trees in an eastern direction. “No, I live on an estate about three or four miles that way.”
I realized, then, that I might have trespassed. “Is this your land?”
“It is, but you are welcome. You’ve made a delightful addition to the daisies and violets.”
His compliments unnerved me, and I felt gangly and gauche. Another blush heated my cheeks.
“You’re not from Thropshire, though,” he said. “I know all the village girls and I’ve never seen you before.”
I shook my head. “I’m visiting, passing through on my way to Braddock.”
“Braddock? Have you booked passage on a ship?”
“Yes.”
“What a shame.” He clucked his tongue. “Inselgrau is so lacking for sources of natural beauty. It could barely stand to lose one of its finest specimens.”
“Do you mean me?” The men at Falstaff were mostly old, or married, or both. No one had ever flirted with me, before. Was that what Jackie was doing? “Or are you making fun of me?”
“Not at all,” he said. “I’m telling you the truth. I hope you’re not in a hurry to leave. I’d enjoy your company.”
“We’re leaving tomorrow.” I didn’t think Gideon would stand for us to stay any longer than that.
“Tomorrow? Who is this we?”
“My brother and I.”
“Your brother? Maybe I could talk him into delaying your departure for another day. In which of the inns have you reserved your rooms?”
I shook my head and waved him off. “I shouldn’t even be talking to you. If he knew, he’d be angry.” Angry was a polite word for what Gideon would be.
“Angry? Why?”
I shrugged “He’s protective, I guess.” My excuse sounded unconvincing to my own ears, and Jackie must have thought so, too.
“If he’s so protective, then why are you out here by yourself?”
“I slipped away before he woke up.”
“Then I’ll have to make the most of your company in the time we do have.” Jackie tilted his head and squinted at the sun. “Just how much time do we have, exactly?”
I laughed, unable to help myself. “If I don’t show up for supper, I’m sure he’ll come looking for me.”
“Good. We have more than a few hours until suppertime. Get your horse and we’ll ride for a while, if that suits you?”
I nodded and started for Nonnie, but stopped before taking a second step. I would have to hitch my skirts to make my way across the frigid creek. Alone, I wouldn’t hesitate, but in the company of gentleman.... Jackie noticed my hesitation and, before I could register his intentions, he had lifted me off my feet and carried me across the creek. My heart thumped like a timid rabbit’s, and my breath caught in my throat.
Jackie deposited me on the bank next to my scruffy boots, which looked particularly road-worn next to his gleaming attire. He crouched beside me, focusing somewhere in the distance. I studied his profile as I laced my boots. He wasn’t as tall as Gideon, or as broad, though not many young men were. Still, Jackie had nearly half a head of height on me, and his tailored coat set off a sturdy set of shoulders. My heart fluttered as I remembered the easy way he lifted me and carried me across the slippery rocks.
When I had finished tying my laces, he stood and stretched a long fingered hand down to me. “Ready?”
When I took his hand, he pulled me to my feet. I paused again, remembering the hassle involved with mounting Nonnie back at the stables.
He laughed. “What’s the trouble now?”
“Would you mind looking away for a moment?” I didn’t want him to lift me onto my horse the way he had lifted me across the creek. I could tolerate only so much being tossed about in one day.
Once had I settled in the saddle and arranged my skirts as tactfully as possible, I cleared my throat. Jackie mounted and urged his horse around, facing east. He nudged her forward with a gentle knee. I followed beside him, splashing through the creek and then up the hill through thickening trees away from town.
“May I ask…? Where are you and your brother going after Braddock?”
My stomach clenched, mostly because I didn’t know the answer myself other than Gideon’s ambiguous plan to take us to Dreutch.
“To the Continent,” I said. It was the safest answer. Maybe Jackie would take my vagary as a hint to change his line of questioning.
He smiled. “I assumed that much.”
“We’re going to do a bit of roaming I think. Sightseeing.”
“Will you go to Galland first?”
So much for taking a hint. Galland had a large port city called Pecia that received most ships from Inselgrau. It was logical to assume that would be our first destination. “I believe so.”
“And then from there will you go south? Venitzia is beautiful in the spring.”
I shook my head. “No, I think we will go north.”
“To Dreutch, then?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a dreary place. Why go there?”
“We have family we must see. They’re expecting us.” I hated inventing lies on a whim. Perhaps Jackie would ask something I couldn’t answer—or would answer incorrectly—and he would suspect my deceit.
“You don’t sound eager,” he said.
“I’ve never been away from home before.” True enough.
Jackie halted his horse and turned in his saddle to face me. “So, why go?”
I stopped beside him and considered my answer. “My family hopes to reestablish connections beyond Inselgrau. Our relatives in Dreutch offered to host me and my brother for a while.”
“Hmm.” Jackie put a finger to his chin in a thoughtful pose. “They’re looking to marry you off. They want to align some sort of business or political relationship. Am I right?”
Letting him draw his own conclusions was easier than making ones up. “Maybe.”
After that, he turned the conversation to other matters and revealed a bit about himself. The land over which we rode belonged to him. His parents had died at a young age, leaving Connolly, as he called it, to him and his younger sister, Cicely, who lived with a distant aunt in Pecia. “I visit as often as possible,” he said. “On her eighteenth birthday I’ve promised she can come here to live with me. Until then I keep the place alone, except for the staff.”
Sympathy twanged my heartstrings. While I had no siblings, I never lacked for family, even after my father died. “How long until that happens?”
“Two years. She counts them eagerly.”
Jackie looked too young to be the master of such a grand estate, but I was not assuming enough to ask his age like I had with Gideon. But, then, I hadn’t run for my life or shared sleeping arrangements with Jackie, either.
We passed close enough to his manor house for me to catch a glimpse of a grand home constructed mostly of white stones and pale brick. The house was newer than Fallstaff, and lacked its imposing stature, but Fallstaff was a palace of sorts, after all. Connelly was modern and Fallstaff a relic, but a home I had loved dearly.
The light faded as Jackie and I returned to Throps
hire. If I didn’t return soon, Gideon might risk breaking his already bruised rib in an attempt to throttle me. Only if he catches me first.
At the edge of town, Jackie took my hand in his warm fingertips. “I don’t know when I’ve ever spend such a pleasant afternoon,” he said. “I regret it ending so soon. Had I known I would encounter you, I would have made plans to invite you and your brother to dinner. It would have certainly been finer than wherever you must be dining tonight.”
His eyes drifted to the rooftops of the village as if trying to determine under which one I might be sleeping. The Silver Goose was not the only inn in town, but from what I’d seen during my tour earlier in the day, it was certainly the nicest.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” I said. “I don’t have anything appropriate to wear.”
Jackie gazed into my eyes until my heart skittered. “You could wear sack cloth and ashes and look like a queen.”
My smile fell. Something cold swam in the undercurrents of his charm. “You’ve got a way with words, Mr. Faercourt. I’m sure the ladies of Inselgrau are all quite charmed.”
Jackie’s expression sobered, and he let go of my hand. “My compliments are genuine, and I apologize for ever giving you the idea they weren’t.”
“N-no,” I stuttered, mortified that I had potentially misjudged and offended him. “I should apologize. That was rude of me.” I looked down in my lap and twined my fingers through Nonnie’s reins.
His hand returned and took mine again. “You are forgiven, if you’ll forgive me for being too forward. I don’t want our memories of each other tarnished.”
I sucked in a breath and raised my eyes to meet his. “I don’t want that either.”
“Then let me wish you goodbye and safe travels. I must also hope for myself that our paths cross again soon. Goodnight, Grace.” Still holding my hand, Jackie raised my knuckles and skimmed his lips over them.
The day had been something special—a bright flicker in a time of darkness. I vowed to treasure it. I forced myself to speak, although my throat had gone dry. “Goodnight, Jackie.”
Chapter 7
A drowsy stable boy took Nonnie’s reins when I pushed them in his hands. A glance at the sky and the position of the sun indicated I had been away longer than intended. Gespenst still rested in his stall, so at least Gideon hadn’t gone out searching for me. If I was lucky, Gideon had spent the day napping and was oblivious to my prolonged absence.
But, as the last few days had proven, I wasn’t that lucky. While Gideon wasn’t out tearing apart the town, he was pacing the length of our room when I returned. His angry footsteps pounded the floorboards and tension bunched his shoulders into angry knots of muscle.
“I see Moira found a shirt for you.” It was an inane comment said in hopes of throwing him off course. I sat down on the sofa and untied my boots, trying to put off the inevitable by keeping my face and attention turned from him.
“What? Oh… yes.” Gideon paused and fingered his shirt buttons. “Don’t try to distract me, Evie.” He stepped close enough that the toes of his boots nudged into the periphery of my vision. “Where in the shadowlands have you been all day?”
I made the mistake of looking up at him. Gideon’s face was hard and sharp like a battle-axe. A fine sweat broke out on my neck.
Never show your fear. That was my father’s advice for encountering wild animals—something he’d reminded me every time I went hunting with him and many of the times I left the castle roaming with Nonnie. Gideon reminded me of a feral beast at that moment. In my mind’s eye, I imagined slaver dripping from his canines, but I continued undoing my boots, feigning nonchalance, and hoped my shaking hands wouldn’t give me away.
He stamped his foot. “Answer me, Evie!”
“I went riding.” My voice sounded much steadier than I felt.
He made several strangled noises as I imagined his face turning purple. “Riding?”
“Don’t worry. No one recognized me.”
“Don’t worry?”
The air shifted as he stepped closer to me. I looked up, but too late. Gideon jerked me to my feet and held me by my shoulders. His fingers, ten strong vices, dug into my flesh. He shook me, slowly at first, then harder. He stopped when I cried out, but didn’t release me. “I killed two men yesterday, Evie, for you. I was almost killed by a third who fought me so he could run you down. I was trying to protect you.”
Gideon stopped to catch his breath, and gritted his teeth. “You are not safe. Not here, not at home, not anywhere.”
His words hit like a fist in my gut. My knees failed, and I sagged on my feet. His grip kept me from falling to the floor in a heap.
“Yes,” he said, “you are back here in one piece, and hopefully no one followed you.” He spoke in low tones, but with no less vehemence than when he was yelling. “You were lucky—that’s all. Lucky and extremely stupid. Can you understand?”
“Yes,” I sobbed and waited for Gideon’s retribution. Instead, he released me so suddenly I staggered and almost lost my balance. I wobbled and sank onto the sofa, rubbing my shoulder and trying hard not to pout.
“Moira came up a little bit ago to say she has dinner ready for us.” His voice was ragged with spent rage. “Are you hungry?”
I lacked the nerve to look him in the face, but I nodded in the affirmative. I was starving. Even after Gideon’s righteous admonishment, the thought of a hot supper made my stomach gurgle.
“Wash up and come eat, then.”
I looked up, hopelessly wanting to see forgiveness. “I’m sorry and you’re right. I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”
His eyes seemed to swirl like gray morning mist. No harshness showed in his gaze, but neither was there pity. “You don’t have to make it up to me. If it weren’t for you, I don’t know if I would have survived last night. I only want you to be conscientious of the danger at all times. I can’t protect you if I don’t know where you are.”
“I understand,” I said.
“If I hurt you,”—he nodded toward the shoulder I was still rubbing— “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
He nodded. “I’ll see you downstairs.” He turned on a heel and strode from the room.
Gideon’s words bounced around my head until it felt swollen with shame and regret. Still, a tiny part of me hardened around one small seed of light: Jonathan Faercourt. I would keep our time together in my memory like a talisman, something I could pull out every-so-often when I needed comfort.
As soon as I stepped out of the room, the smells of dinner greeted me—sage and fennel, from what I assumed was sausage, and a smoky sweet scent like cinnamon. I closed my eyes and inhaled. The prospect of a first-rate dinner improved my spirits. By the time I joined Gideon, he had already devoured most of the food on his plate.
“And apple sauce pies when you’re done,” Moira said as she brought me a portion. I took a seat across from Gideon, but wished I could sit on the other side of the room, alone, with my back to him. He may have crested the highest wave of his fury, but anger still radiated from him like heat from a hearthstone after the banking of a fire.
I stuffed a slice of sausage in my mouth and savored it. Moira had flavored the potatoes with crunchy bits of bacon and flecks of rosemary. Maybe there was more than one bright spot in my retreat. Moira and The Silver Goose’s kitchen made the necessity of leaving home more bearable.
“Well, sir, do you care to lick your plate, or can I bring you a pie, now?” Our hostess appeared at Gideon’s side and wiggled her eyebrows. He didn’t quite smile, but almost. Her good cheer was impossible to evade, even for a hard man.
“‘S what I thought.” She took his empty plate away and returned with something like a turnover oozing sticky hot filling. Yes, definitely a bright spot.
He cut into the little pie and steam leaked out along with the scent of apples and cinnamon. He caught me staring and pushed the plate toward me.
I shook
my head. “No, I’ll get my own.”
The corner of his mouth curled up as he drew his plate back across the table. “We’re heading out in the morning.”
“Aren’t you worried about your injuries?” I asked through a cheek stuffed with potatoes. My good manners had taken a steep decline in a few short days. What did it matter? I wasn’t really a princess, anymore.
“I’m more worried about staying in one place too long. We’ll have time to rest on the ship.”
“How long does it take to get to the Continent?”
“One night if the weather holds.”
Moira appeared at our table again, and she traded my empty plate for one bearing another little pie like Gideon’s. “You’ll want to take that up to your room,” she said. “There’s a crowd that likes to gather here for drinks and a bit of fun. The first one of them has just come in the door.”
We all turned to see a middle-aged man settling onto a seat at the bar. Moira’s husband filled a tankard and set it at the man’s elbow. “They’re a decent bunch,” she said, “but I take it you’d rather keep your presence unnoticed.”
Gideon and I made a hasty departure upstairs to our room. I sat down on the couch, focused on the cooling applesauce pie and not on being alone in a room with a man who probably wanted to thrash me. From the corner of my eye, I watched him sink onto the mattress. He grimaced and put a hand to his side. I knew better than to comment.
“How did you come to work for my father?” I bit into the pie, savoring its sweetness, and tried not to gobble it like a glutton.
Gideon twined his fingers together in his lap and frowned. “I got word from someone who knew the old man who was your father’s horse master before me.”
“Freemont?”
“Yes, Freemont. When I was told of his death, I came to your father for the job.”
“Where did you come from?” The question testified to my careless attitude when I had lived at Fallstaff. I never cared enough before to question his presence at our estate. If Father had trusted Gideon enough to hire him, then that was all that had mattered, but now I felt I should probably know more about my enigmatic companion.
Heir of Thunder (Stormbourne Chronicles Book 1) Page 7
