An Earnest Favour

VII

Arthur. That was it. Arthur Slickson, Jack recalled. That cruel, evil, lying ...

Jack continued to listen to their conversation until he couldn't anymore. He listened as this man laid on another layer of manipulation into the web of dishonesty that he had spent three years weaving in Claire's head. Somehow, he had made a once bright and innocent young girl believe that she was deserving of this treatment.

Jack snapped, quite literally as a twig broke under his foot as he lunged out, when he heard Arthur utter, "You would do anything for me. I know from experience."

Arthur's hands were on Claire's face, but her wide, reddened yet expressive eyes were on Jack.

"Kindly take your hands off of my fiancée, or the next time we meet, you shall be staring down the barrel of my pistol from twenty paces away."

Jack meant it. With the pure and unadulterated fury he felt, he would have challenged the man right then and there. Now knowing what he did, knowing what he had done to Claire, Jack knew that he ought to challenge him for Claire's honour, to force him to marry her.

But that couldn't happen. Claire did not deserve to be his victim forever. Jack wouldn't allow it. She deserved a good marriage, and a good man. Jack did not know if theirs would be a good marriage, but he hoped that he was a better man than the scoundrel who was standing between them.

To Jack's surprise, Arthur's hands fell, and he turned his body to properly face Jack. He had not changed much in his appearance in the three years since Jack had last seen him, perhaps only the smug expression was new.

"So, you have learned Claire's scandalous little secret?" taunted Arthur.

Jack's eyes looked past Arthur at Claire, who seemed to fold into herself, as though she was trying to appear as small as possible.

Jack could not bother replying to such a remark. "Claire," he said with quiet authority. "Please come."

Claire complied immediately, walking straight past Arthur without daring to look up at him. She came to Jack's side, and he instinctively stepped in front of her.

"Go and wait for me by the forge," Jack instructed.

"What are you going to do?" she whispered, so quietly that even Arthur might have missed it.

"Go," he repeated, and this time, Claire did not question him. She turned and left them standing there.

"Do you want to kill me?" Arthur mocked when they were alone.

"I won't deny that the thought has crossed my mind in the last quarter hour or so," replied Jack stiffly. He stepped forward, close enough to Arthur that should he have reached out his arm, he would have brushed the lapel of Arthur's coat with his fingers. "But I will tell you that you have spoken with Claire for the final time." Jack found that his voice took on a new tone, a dark, authoritative tone that he had not heard from himself before. "You are never to come near her again."

Arthur let out an amused exhale. "You confuse me," he murmured. "You could have anyone. Your connections, your name, your rank ... and yet you settle for my spoiled goods? Didn't your father ever teach you that you bed those sorts of girls, Beresford? You don't marry them."

"Somehow, I do not think civilised conversation is going to get my point across," realised Jack.

Just as Arthur's brow furrowed, Jack's clenched fist connected with his jaw, projecting such force that Arthur flew back a few feet before hitting the ground. Jack shook his hand out and flexed his fingers, checking for injury, as he watched a dazed Arthur try to sit up.

As he spat blood, and perhaps a tooth, Jack leaned over him. "Come anywhere near Claire again, and I will end you," he threatened, before turning on his heel to walk away.

As he did, Arthur shouted after him in a voice marred by slurs, "You'll always know I was there first! You'll always know her bastard isn't yours!"

Jack kept walking.

He found Claire by the forge, where he had told her to wait, pulling at her handkerchief nervously. When he joined her, she gasped. Had she not been expecting him to return?

"Are you alright?" Jack asked patiently.

Claire nodded helplessly.

"Good." Jack inhaled. "I can take a lot, Claire. I have done. But I won't be lied to. You lied to me before, and that can't happen if we are to enter into this together."

"I know," whispered Claire.

Jack wanted to say a lot more. He wanted to ask her why she accepted that. He wanted to ask her if she believed she deserved his cruelty. He wanted to ask how she could love a man who treated her so ill. He wanted to ask if she knew that she was being manipulated. But it was not the time.

"Why don't you scold me?"

Claire's question caught Jack off guard, and yet it really should not have. It was what she expected, what she thought she deserved. Did he scold her? He probably told her she was stupid if ever she made a mistake, among other ungentlemanly manners.

"Because you are not a child," Jack replied, "and I am not your possessor. All I ask is honesty and transparency. It is vital if this charade is to work."

"I ... I can't believe you will still honour your proposal," said Claire tentatively. "I ... I am such a fool ... I can't believe I let him fool me again ..."

What must it have been like, Jack wondered, for Claire to tell the man she had been secretly ... courting perhaps was the right word, that she was with child, only to have him laugh at her? He had seen how very broken she was in the library the other night, and she was still so now. Jack would need to tread carefully.

"He fooled you, yes," agreed Jack, "but you saw the best in him, or at least you wanted to. And that is a very good quality, indeed. To have someone view us as our best selves is quite the ideal."

Claire dried her fresh tears with the handkerchief that she had been pulling apart. Jack reached into his pocket and produced his own. Claire accepted it with a grateful whimper.

"I will take care of you, Claire. Of you both. But you must promise me something. I ask only one thing in return."

"Yes?"

Claire's hands were trembling as she wiped her eyes, so Jack covered them with his own, helping her to dry her face.

"You cannot ever see him again," he said calmly.

If Claire was ever to be seen with Arthur Slickson, their entire marriage story would be discredited. The child outed. Their families ruined. And Jack ... well, Jack did not know if he had the stomach to ever view what he had just seen again.

"I accept your condition," Claire promised, nodding her head as her eyes watered over once more.

How protective he already felt. He could not fathom what he would feel if Arthur somehow managed to snake his way back into Claire's head. Considering his stomach had already contorted itself into painful knots, Jack wondered if he ... if they ... would survive it at all.

----

Hope you enjoyed it! Sorry it's a bit shorter than normal. It was either a short chapter tonight, or you had to wait. I posted on my message board earlier, but basically I'm really anaemic right now and I have to have an intravenous iron blast thing to get my energy back. I have been severely fatigued, like to the point where I feel like I'm going to be sick. I could sleep for ten hours and wake up feeling worse. It just sucks.

But I have one more week to get through of school before it's summer break! I. NEED. REST!

Alright, my eyes are half closed as I'm typing this. I need to sleep. Night guys!

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