Jack Frost: King of Thieves

CHAPTER XXVI: Merely A Ruse

Jack sat near the fireplace in the Overland home, enjoying its warmth, watching as serving girls cleared the plates and what was left of the evening meal from the table. Sir Sandy had long since bidden Jack good night and, with Elsa leading him back to his chamber, had gone off to bed. The dogs still lay on the floor nearby, as if unwilling to let him out of their sight.

It had been a strange night, and he stared into the fire burning in the hearth, puzzling over the bargain he had made with Overland's father. Of course, Jack understood that the old man didn't wish to see the Crown or its agents taking this house away from Elsa when he died. And he supposed that would be reason enough for Sir Sandy to chance this charade he had proposed. But Jack sensed that there was more at work here than that. Sandy had recognised his name, though Jack didn't know how that was possible. The old man had appeared genuinely frightened of him at first. What was it he had asked? Are you here to exact revenge?

Later, once Sandy had convinced himself that Jack meant him no harm, he had hinted again at knowing more about Jack's past than the archer did himself. He had offered to teach Jack something of his own history.

And Overland seemed to take great pleasure in teasing Elsa with suggestions of romance between her and Jack. Were these merely the eccentricities of an old man, or confused emotions brought on by grief and the shock of bad tidings? Or was there more to Sandy's teasing and riddles?

Overland might have looked old, but his mind seemed sharp enough. There was a purpose in all of this, though what it was Jack couldn't fathom.

Elsa reentered the hall, hesitating briefly at the sight of him sitting in his chair, and then continuing over to the table. The dogs raised their heads and followed her with their dark eyes. She examined the table, appeared satisfied that it had been tended properly, and wandered back toward where Jack sat, now watching her.

He wasn't sure he understood her, either. Sir Jackson had been dead for days, but as far as Elsa was concerned, she had lost him this very afternoon. Jack could see the sadness in her eyes; he recalled how deeply she had been moved by news of the knight's death earlier in the day, though he hadn't known then who she was.

Yet the only tears he had seen in her eyes, she had shed not for her own loss, but for Sir Sandy's. It almost seemed that she cared more for her husband's father than for her husband. Perhaps that was what happened when a knight left his home and love for ten years.

He couldn't deny that she was an attractive woman. Not merely pretty like a barmaid or a country maiden; hers was an unconventional beauty. High cheekbones, waves of platinum hair, eyes that were sky blue and that seemed to miss nothing of what happened around her. There was both grace and strength in her body. She appeared to be as comfortable cleaning the muck from a dray's hoof as she was hosting dinner for a stranger.

And though she clearly hadn't been happy about the deal Sandy had made with Jack, she hadn't refused, either. Was she merely pragmatic, or did she have her own purpose in playing along?

Too many mysteries. Jack wondered if he wouldn't be better off leaving Burlington Manor now, while he still had the chance. But he didn't rise from the chair. Curiosity held him there; the promise of learning more about his past, about his family, about the odd twists and hints of fate that had led him from King Manny's army to the warm glow of this fire, and the company of this mysterious and handsome woman.

"Sandy says we're to share my chambers," she said, after a lengthy silence.

The fire popped, startling the dog nearest the hearth.

Jack didn't answer her.

"It is merely a ruse to convince the servants," she added, her tone businesslike.

Jack allowed himself a small smile. "If the aim is deception, you should address me as 'husband,' or 'my dear.'"

She scowled at him. "Don't be ridiculous." She turned, starting toward the stairs. "Let us retire now."

He didn't move. "Ask me nicely."

Without turning or pausing, Elsa started up the stairs. Jack thought she would ignore him entirely, but as she climbed the steps she said in a low voice, "Please, husband, will you join me in our chambers?"

Jack pushed himself out of the chair, crossed to the stairway, and started up after her. The dogs loped along with him.

Reaching the top of the stairway, Jack and the dogs followed Elsa down a narrow corridor and into her bedchamber. It was a modest room but it felt warm and comfortable. A fire had been lit in the small hearth, and a few candles burned beside the bed.

Elsa closed the door and turned to face him, her expression severe. "I sleep with a dagger," she said, glowering at him. "If you so much as move to touch me I will sever your manhood. Understood?"

Jack's eyebrows went up. "Thanks for the warning."

She gestured toward a large cushion next to the hearth. Clearly, this was usually intended for the dogs, but there could be no mistaking her intent. For tonight—and no doubt all the nights to follow—this was to be his bed.

Without so much as a "goodnight", she pulled closed the curtains that surrounded her bed. Jack stood where he was, watching her. She blew out the candles around her one by one until the only light in the chamber came from the fire in the hearth.

With the candles out, Jack couldn't see past the curtains, but he heard a rustle of cloth and imagined that Elsa must be removing her dress. A thought came unbidden: It had been a long, long time since last he had lain with a woman.

Jack stepped to the hearth, sat down on the bedding and started to pull off his boots. One of the dogs trotted over to him and lay down beside him, taking up more than its fair share of the cushion. Jack couldn't help laughing. It surely wasn't the companionship he would have preferred, but it would have to do for this night.