‘The next morning, the innkeeper sent me on my way with a basket of food and a kind word.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘I sometimes wonder what would have happened if he had asked me to stay longer. Whether I would now be living as an innkeeper’s mistress or wife.’
‘How many men?’ Jack asked quietly.
Blanche felt her lips start to quiver as she counted the times she had allowed men to take their pleasure with her. It was not the memory of the men that made her quake, but knowing what Jack must be thinking of her.
‘Less than ten. When I kissed the innkeeper it felt like I was dreaming—not me doing it but someone using my body, and after the first time it became easier. I didn’t mind giving myself to men when I had no other possibility. My heart was dead so it didn’t matter what I did with my body.’
It had been worth it to achieve what she had, and there had even been men who took care to ensure she found the experience enjoyable, but in Jack’s company she found herself wishing she were as innocent and whole as she had been on her wedding night with Mael.
‘I didn’t plan it at first, but I discovered men wanted what I could provide and often I needed what they could offer, be that a bed for the night or money to dress my children. It was a transaction I found easier to make each time, and each time a little more of my heart hardened.’
She folded her arms and waited for Jack to turn his back on her in disgust. He was silent for too long to bear.
‘You want me to condemn you for what you did,’ he said finally.
Blanche dropped her head but Jack placed his palm beneath her chin, raising it again so she looked into his face.
‘Well, I won’t. I can’t. I only have pity that you were left in such circumstances.’
His voice was gentle. His words themselves choked her. How many in a thousand would be as understanding? She reached for his hand and nestled her fingers deep in his palm. Jack curled his hand round them, keeping her hand within his. He looked out to sea.
‘Who can say what I might have done if I had found myself destitute and friendless in a less welcoming home than yours,’ he muttered.
‘You said you would do honest work. I could have scrubbed floors or carried trays, though it would not have made me as much money. You’re better than me, Jack.’
Blanche bit her lip. Now was the time to stop what she intended to do. Ignore the urge she fought so hard to control. If Jack surrendered to the same urge as she felt, there would be no turning back. She walked slowly back to the stones and looked at him. He looked puzzled but his body was tensed, a hunting hound, alert and ready to spring after a quarry. It excited her to see the vitality exuding from him.
‘Why did you tell me now?’
‘Because I wanted you to understand how it was different with you. I haven’t seduced a man for a long time. When we made love before, I did it with all of me. I wanted you, Jack. With my body, but also with my heart. I still do. We both have so many bitter, painful memories. Let’s create a beautiful one together.’
There was a moment then where she thought she had ruined everything, that Jack had invoked the memory of Margaret and it was too much for him to contemplate. He blinked away his thought and looked back at Blanche. He opened his arms and she walked into them. They cleaved to each other, arms tight, bodies crushed together. Jack’s lips found Blanche’s and he kissed her with a slow, measured thoroughness that made her head spin. They sank to their knees, still clutching at each other as their kisses became more frenzied and they could hold back their passion no longer. As they began to make love Blanche felt whole for the first time in longer than she could remember.
* * *
Afterwards they lay together, simply holding each other. Blanche discovered that as much as her body yearned for Jack’s touch, it was this embrace, this companionship and warmth that her heart had been craving. She felt like a cracked pot, mended so skilfully that the original damage couldn’t even be seen.
Clouds began to gather on the horizon. Grey and greyer, they rolled inland, obliterating the sun from view and chilling the air. Even the heat from Jack’s body couldn’t prevent Blanche from shivering now and it gave her the impetus she had been lacking to move.
She shifted against Jack, reluctant to break the contact between them. He inclined his head to kiss her, and though Blanche responded with enthusiasm, there was sadness looming the edge of her mind now. This was goodbye. She had known all along that Jack was not hers to keep, that this stolen moment of lovemaking—and it was clear to her that there was a deeper emotion than pure physical satisfaction—was the only time they could spend together. The grief welled up as harshly as if he was already in her past. Jack seemed equally disinclined to move and gathered his discarded clothing lethargically. They dressed quickly, with the slightly awkward air of people who had been more intimate than they should have been. When fully clothed once more, they stood facing each other and it seemed to Blanche there was an insubstantial barrier between them created by more than layers of clothes.
‘You go first,’ she said. ‘The path isn’t wide, and in any case it will be more discreet.’
‘We’ve just made love in the open on a clifftop,’ Jack said, his mouth twisting into a crooked grin and his brows lifting. ‘I think we’ve left discretion long behind us.’
Blanche smiled, ‘Perhaps you’re right. But I think I’ll stay here a little longer. I know you must be eager to prepare for leaving.’
‘I don’t have much to pack,’ Jack said ruefully.
‘Tell Andrey it is my instruction that you can take anything you need—clothes, a weapon, food. Whatever you require.’
‘You’re too generous. I haven’t the means to repay you,’ Jack said.
‘You aren’t in my debt. You’ve more than paid your way.’
Blanche leaned over and gave him a hug but felt him stiffen in her arms and looked up. Jack was staring down at her with an odd expression.
‘I didn’t realise I had been paying in advance,’ he muttered.
‘I don’t understand,’ Blanche said. But she did, and his next words confirmed her suspicion.
‘Was I settling my debts ahead of time just now?’ Jack asked. ‘Doing what you did to earn your bread?’
He thought she was treating him as she had been treated by so many men.
‘Of course you weren’t.’ She pushed him away and stepped out of reach. ‘I meant how you’d defended me from Ronec and worked in my house. Chopping wood and mending nets, not bedding me.’
‘I want to believe that,’ he said.
‘Then believe it!’
She was shaking with anger, unable to believe he was actually saying such things after the closeness they had shared. That he doubted why she had seduced him. The fact that the notion of suggesting payment in kind had crossed her mind when they first met made things worse.
‘I would have given you anything you needed in any case,’ she snapped, ‘but like all the men I’ve been with, you think I’m doing it for a reason,’ Blanche said scornfully. ‘Well, I was, and the reason was that I desired you as much as you desired me and I didn’t want you to leave without making love to you one more time.’
She threw her arm out in the direction of the pathway. ‘Just go. Take what you need, without any obligation. The only payment I shall exact is a memory for myself. I shall dine in my room tonight so we shan’t see each other again.’
Jack took a step towards her but halted as she stepped back, hands up before her.
‘You do not have my permission to touch me!’
His eyes blazed but he bowed his head and strode away without a word. Blanche watched him go through a film of tears. She slumped back against the stone and sat in the same place she had so recently been in Jack’s arms. The argument had flared so quickly and now they would part on hostile terms. She wiped a hand furiously across her eyes.
It was definitely for the best, she told herself, as she made her way down the path. Because if she was not furious with Jack, she did not know how she would be able to endure him leaving. She didn’t follow him down to the castle but instead took the concealed turning to the harbour. Even her joy and pride at sitting on board White Wolf felt muted and diminished after the argument. Her ships and her identity as Bleiz Mor had been her only comfort during dark times, but as she leaned against the railing and watched until the sun set, that comfort was nothing compared to what she had found in Jack’s arms.
* * *
Remorse hit Jack like a fist to the kidneys halfway down the path, as the last traces of resentment slunk away like a dog with a tail between its legs. He leaned against a tree and wiped a hand across his eyes, then stared bleakly back the way he had come.
Had he ever really believed that making love to Blanche had been in return for the clothing and food? Of course not, and he couldn’t if his life depended on it work out why he had said such cruel things to her after they had shared such ecstasy. His skin fluttered and tightened, making his frame feel too small for itself at the thought of Blanche’s hands skimming over his body, teasing him and summoning him to greater and greater heights of pleasure. At the crucial moment he had pulled away in his determination not to risk pregnancy, she had taken him in her hand and led him to completion.
Perhaps it had been that—the skill and assuredness with which she had drawn the climax from him that made him think of her doing it for the men she had given herself to. He’d been overwhelmed with the richness of the feelings that had enveloped him and had lashed out in jealousy.
How could he have ever said such things aloud? It was far from his finest hour and he ground his teeth in contrition. He’d told Blanche that her past did not matter then proved otherwise in the worst way at the worst possible time. He’d insulted her, and remembering the wounded expression in her eyes was a penance he would perform for the rest of his nights.
He started to walk back up the path, but as it wound around on itself he had second thoughts and turned back. She’d made it clear she wanted to be alone and he would not force his presence on her when she had made her wishes so clear. He would seek her out and speak to her later to beg the forgiveness he had no right to deserve. He’d go down on his knees and swear endless devotion if she would only pardon him for such base accusations.
He returned to the castle and saw Andrey who was sitting with Marie in the courtyard, catching the sun in a corner. The couple were resting with their heads together, hands linked and speaking quietly, laughing over some private matter. The simple sight of such contentment was almost too much for Jack, but he watched from the gateway until Marie kissed her husband’s cheek and left him. She passed Jack as they crossed the courtyard and she gave him a nervous curtsy.
‘Marie,’ he said. ‘I want to thank you for the care you gave me. I wish you well.’
She smiled nervously and continued on her way. Jack joined Andrey.
‘Did you find Blanche?’ Andrey gestured for Jack to join him in Marie’s vacated place.
Jack confirmed he had, hoping to convey that nothing had taken place which could not have done in full view of the entire household. There was a knowing look in Andrey’s eyes that made Jack wonder if the older man had known what fate he was sending Jack to meet with when he had passed on Blanche’s message. He fervently hoped not. He did not want this man, who was protective over Blanche and who Jack had started to regard warmly, to think any less of him for what he had done. He passed on Blanche’s instructions with a guilty conscience. It would be better to leave with nothing but the clothes he stood in, rather than let her think he still believed what he had said, but he was not so foolish as to begin his journey with nothing.
‘When I’m gone, will you take care of Blanche?’ he said.
‘Do you think she needs taking care of?’ Andrey’s brows met in a grey thatch.
‘Yes, I do,’ Jack said earnestly. ‘From men like Ronec, or whoever would seek to use her or do her harm.’
Men like me, he thought grimly. He’d done just as much harm if not more than Ronec ever could.
‘I know she’s strong but she shouldn’t have to be all the time.’
‘She’s shouldered too many burdens for too long. If only the fighting was over she might cease, but until then she’ll carry on doing what she does, even if it destroys her.’
‘Running the fort and estate would be taxing even on a man,’ Jack agreed. ‘I admire her more than she knows.’
Andrey gave him another inscrutable look and Jack got a sense there was more that he knew. Did Andrey know how she had supported herself? Had she lied when she told him she had stopped?
‘I care for her but I can’t stay,’ he said gruffly.
‘You have to go. Doesn’t mean you can’t return,’ Andrey said with a shrug.
The thought had crossed Jack’s mind before but now it solidified, growing larger. What did England have for him other than sadness and a grave? Here could be a new beginning at the side of a woman he knew now he loved. A woman he suspected loved him back. He needed to speak to Blanche and see if there was any possibility of her wanting the same thing.
* * *
Blanche didn’t appear at dinner and Jack barely touched his food. He lingered after the rest of the household had left but Blanche seemed to be keeping her intention of dining alone. Jack returned to his room but instead of entering he paused at the turn of the stair. Blanche’s room was above his. She forbade anyone from entering but the thought of not seeing her left him trembling. He climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. There was no answer, even when he knocked more firmly. She wouldn’t know who was knocking and he worried she had decided to refuse all visitors. He should go, but his need to see her and make amends was too great. Cautiously, he lifted the latch and pushed the door open a crack.
‘Blanche?’
There was no answer and he sensed the room was empty. Knowing he was trespassing but drawn irresistibly to discover Blanche’s home, he entered.
The room was light and airy but not what he had expected. Unlike the richly decorated hall on the ground floor, with the tapestries and expensive furniture, Blanche’s suite was almost bare. Tapestry frames stood before the windows but there was almost as little furniture as there was in Jack’s own room. All her wealth was displayed in the public rooms.
The bed that stood in the centre of the floor was hung with mismatched curtains. Jack ran his fingers over the threadbare blue drapes at the end and found tears that had been repaired with neat, almost invisible stitches. The scarlet curtains that hung at each side were in better condition but faded to dull pink where the sunlight had bleached the colour from them. In winter they must provide little protection from the bitter winds. The bed itself was covered in an intricately embroidered counterpane, repaired carefully and partially hidden beneath a pile of furs similar to the one on Jack’s bed. He suspected his had once belonged here. He stroked the nearest fur, his imagination wreaking havoc on his senses as he pictured Blanche lying there. His conscience pricked, regretting that he had ever intruded, and he turned to leave.
Blanche was standing in the doorway, hands rigid at her side, her eyes blazing with fury.
‘I told you never to come up here,’ she said, each word a shard of ice. ‘You are the first person ever to disobey my orders. First you insult me, now you violate my hospitality in the basest way possible. Tell me why I shouldn’t throw you out right now?’
Chapter Sixteen
Blanche flung a hand out, pointing to the door.
‘Well? Why shouldn’t I summon my servants and throw you out of the fort?’
‘I can’t. You’d be right to.’ Jack’s guts twisted. ‘I have no defence. I should have left when I realised you weren’t here but I was surprised by what I found. Your room is so bare.’
She nodded, face like thunder.
‘Shall I tell you why I live like this?’ Blanche snapped. She continued without waiting for his answer, though he would not have dreamed of interrupting her. ‘It is because I have so little and every week is a battle to survive. I spend all my money on the rooms that visitors might see. I could spend some on this room but I choose not to, and what does it matter. I am—usually—the only one who sees it.’
She walked to a small table before the window. On it was a casket not much bigger than her hand, with a plain clasp. She opened it and Jack saw the glint of silver before she closed the lid again with a snap.
‘As long as I keep up the appearance of a wealthy widow, I stand a chance of keeping my liberty.’
‘Liberty?’
‘From marriage,’ she said, turning her eyes on him. ‘Ronec would not miss the opportunity to take me as a wife if he could claim I could not support myself. Others would have the same idea. They would take what little I have left and my independence along with it.’
She gave him an arch smile. ‘Sleeping on a lumpy mattress in threadbare hangings is a small price to pay. Don’t you agree?’
She was right, but such fierce pride made him sad. Was this what Andrey meant about her living as she did? If she were so determined to keep her independence, why would she ever agree to what he had come to ask?
She stood up, facing Jack, and her face became marble.
‘Now you know. Is there anything else you need to see? You’re leaving soon so I trust you’ll keep my secret. I have no fear you’ll share your knowledge with Ronec.’
‘You don’t have to ask that,’ Jack said fervently. ‘I would die before I told him anything.’
He stepped closer to Blanche. She did not move away.
‘What did you want?’ Blanche asked. Her voice was still cold.
Uncovering the Merchant's Secret Page 18