Dishonoring Jack

Chapter Fifteen

"Miss Harrison, good evening!"

Jack's stomach twisted at the voice and she resisted rolling her eyes as she turned to greet the robust man lumbering towards them. "Hello, Oliver," she said without any of the respect due to her brother-in-law and the mayor of Irvington.

Oliver, with his fine three piece suit, bowler hat, and waxed mustache, was every inch the gentleman, and he inclined his head towards his sister-in-law. "My dear wife was just informing me that you've brought someone of...questionable heritage to our event. Please, introduce me."

The metal in Oliver's voice did not go unnoticed and Jack glowered in response to his greasy smile. "Oliver, this is Donovan. Donovan, this is the esteemed Oliver Walker, Mayor of Irvington."

Jack couldn't keep the note of mockery from her voice as she motioned grandly to the man. Donovan merely bowed his head in response, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, and murmured, "A pleasure."

"Yes, yes," Oliver said, tapping his fingers together. "And you, Donovan," he tasted the words as if they were a bitter potion. "You're from these parts?"

"No, but I'm from Virginia."

Jack noticed Donovan's shoulders stiffen and he lifted his chin as he said the words. Even though his ancestry was evident in his long hair and copper skin, he didn't claim his Powhatan heritage.

"And what brings you to Irvington and to our esteemed church?" Oliver asked, pride and dismay mixed in his voice.

"I am accompanying Miss Harrison," Donovan said, not answering the first question. His words incited Jack's curiosity. Now that she and Donovan were something, had something, would he tell her what truly brought him here? Why he had left Boston and the reservation and come to Irvington?

"You're a close-lipped fellow, aren't you?" Oliver said with a grunt. "You would do well to remember your place and stay in it."

"His place is here," Jack finally interjected, anxious for the chance to defend him. "His place is beside me." Her face flamed as she spoke, but she lifted her chin with pride. He could interpret her words as he wished.

"Well. Interesting choice of a companion, Jacqueline." Oliver eyed her from head to toe, one eyebrow cocked. No doubt he was wishing his wife had more savory family members. "I would have thought you know better."

He whirled away before Jack could protest, but she hardly let his words bother her. She was more concerned about Donovan's thoughts and feelings than the ostentatious Oliver Walker. She turned to him and clutched the arm wrapped in hers.

"Donovan, I'm sorry," she murmured, her eyes seeking his.

For a moment his gaze was lost, first staring at the floor and then searching the crowd. Her eyes remained fastened on him, imploring him to give her his attention. FInally, he looked up and smiled, his eyes saddened.

"It's nothing I'm not accustomed to, Jack."

"Then, what's--"

"I'm upset with myself," he exclaimed, running a hand over his face. Signs of concern finally leaked into his features, emerging in lines around his mouth and a storm brewing in his eyes.

"Why? You were far more polite than I would have been. You were a perfect gentleman!"

"That's not it," he said, taking Jack by the arm and ushering her to an abandoned pew in the far corner of the church. Jack gratefully sat down and relinquished the weight on her ankle. "It's--I'm Powhatan, Jack. I am. But I hate admitting it."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of!" Jack said, her brow wrinkling at the words.

"Perhaps not, but nevertheless, admitting it feels like confessing some sort of...deficit. I don't want to be seen as weaker or lesser or inferior, but I am. Did you see the way he looked at me?"
"But he's ignorant!" Jack cried, wishing she could shake the truth into Donovan. "He knows nothing. You shouldn't even care about what he thinks."