Donovan's hands rose to cradle Jack's face and she curved her body against his, anxious to expand this fire until the flame burned her entire body. Hands tangled in hair and pins came undone and heat roared inside of Jack. When her eyes fluttered open, she caught sight of the eerie glow the moon cast, bathing them iridescent hues. Jack smiled against Donovan's lips.
Jack could scarcely keep track of her own emotions--excitement, furor, affection. They entangled themselves in her heart as she kissed him with a certainty that this was the best choice she'd ever made. Why, he was kind, he was interesting, and he was quite a good kisser. Jack couldn't imagine what else she could want in a man.
A shocked gasp forced Jack's eyelids to open and she pulled away from Donovan, surprised to find his hands now at her waist and hers tangled in his long hair. Goodness, this does look incriminating.
Jack expected to find Matilda Tuttlebrook or some other gossip standing before them, but the spectator she discovered was far worse.
"Jacqueline!" Anita exclaimed, covering her horrified mouth with a gloved hand. Jack's elder sister and the mother of Corrie and Christina a refined, elegant woman, Jack's opposite in every respect. Her brown hair touched with gray was pulled into a neat chiffon and her emerald green dress drew out the dark hues of her eyes. Jack flinched under her aghast glare.
"What in the name of--this isn't appropriate, Jack. It just isn't." Before Jack could say a word, Anita rushed towards her and grasped her arm, her slender fingers icy against Jack's skin. "Get up. You need to get back inside before the rest of the town sees this."
Despite her willowy frame and genteel air, Anita Walker was a strong woman and Jack reeled forward as Anita attempted to drag her back into the church. Jack stumbled forward and yelped at the pain in her wounded ankle. She looked back helplessly at Donovan who didn't know whether to find the scene amusing or horrid.
"I can't believe you, Jacqueline. You are the sister-in-law of the mayor, yet you insist on bringing this...this heathen to a church function for our troops. And as if that weren't enough, I catch you kissing him! Really, Jack, what are you thinking?"
Finally given the opportunity to defend herself, Jack jumped in, her cheeks flaming. "Oh, get off your high horse, Annie." Anita visibly bristled at the usage of her childhood nickname. "We aren't causing any trouble."
"You're always causing trouble, Jacqueline," she said with a sniff, raising her Roman nose higher. "Come back inside, immediately, or I'll be forced to inform the mayor."
Jack shuddered at the thought of her pretentious brother-in-law hearing of the kiss outside the church. He might exile her from the entire county if it were possible. "Fine. We'll be right back."
Anita flounced back into the church and Donovan rose to approach Jack, his steps smooth and graceful. Her face heated as he looked down at her, his neat hair now tussled by Jack's hands. He approached and took her hand, holding it between his.
"Perhaps that was a--"
Jack stopped him by squeezing his hand in her own as she tilted her head to look up at him. "Do you regret it?"
His lips twitched into a smile. "Not for a moment."
"Me neither."
Jack leaned up and kissed him lightly though even that was enough to send sensation through her body. Donovan squeezed her hand and Jack leaned into him as they limped back to the church, her head pressed against his arm. She didn't dare question the emotion fermenting in her heart, but she did cling tighter to Donovan to keep him closer to her.
Donovan and Jack, arm in arm, reentered the church to find the Ragtime dance in full swing, women in their voluminous skirts swept about by debonair gentlemen young and old to the syncopated beat of the quartet. Jack wished her ankle were not sprained so she could join in the affair. However, she was not so lucky to have their brief absence go unnoticed.
"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."
"I'm not like you, Jack," he murmured, voice cracked and broken. "I do care. I want to be respected as much as the next man, by merit. Not by heritage."
"But..."
Donovan dropped his head. "You don't understand."
He was right--she didn't understand. She was white, and she had every privilege. But that wasn't quite true. She may be white, but she was a woman, and she knew what it was to be disrespected and disregarded.
"Actually, I do," Jack protested. "I'm a woman. I know what it is to be ignored and disrespected. That's why I'm...why I never married. I don't want to be thought of as an accessory to some man who can't see me as more than my gender." Jack's voice grew in volume and she attracted a few curious looks. "So don't tell me I don't understand."
The creases around Donovan's eyes deepened and he reached for her hand, squeezing it. "I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't--you're right. You're right."
"If it helps any," Jack said with a tight smile on her lips. "I think Oliver already knows about your ancestry."
Donovan let out a short laugh, his eyes catching on Oliver's portly form where he stood by the punch bowl. "I suppose that's true."
"And for what it counts," Jack said, touching his arm softly, "I'm proud you're Powhatan. And I fully expect you to tell me all about it someday."
Donovan looked down at her and for a moment Jack wondered if she'd been too bold, too wild, too Jack. Maybe she would scare him away with her audacity.
But then he smiled and Jack's doubts vanished. "I hope someday I can take you there."
Jack's enthusiasm overflowed at his words and she would have leapt from the pew if it weren't for her sprained ankle. "Oh, truly? Do you mean it? I would love to see your home!"
"There's not much of a home, but I swear I'll show it to you someday, Jack." His eyes softened and the joking cheer vanished. He was in earnest, and while it should have seemed too soon, too fast, too idealistic, Jack instead believed his promise.
A smile blooming on her face, Jack murmured, "I can't wait."
His eyes focused on hers, and if it weren't for the raucous music and the crowded church, Jack was sure he would have kissed her. She wished that all the people and the noise were gone so they could have another moment bathed in magic. Sweet mercy, I would sprain my other ankle for another kiss like that.
However, their brief moment was interrupted when Donovan looked past her, and his eyes caught on something that stole his interest, just as they had when he and Jack were dancing. Whatever this distraction was, it had caused Jack to trip and sprain her ankle and she spun her head around in search of the distraction.
She saw nothing but the crowds of people. "What is it, Donovan? What has you so distracted?"
She looked back at him, but his attention was entirely lost on someone in the crowd. Jack craned her neck and yet she saw no one out of the ordinary.
To regain his attention, she slapped him across the cheek. The sting was enough to attract his attention and he looked at her with a stunned expression. "I--I'm sorry."
"What's wrong with you?" Jack demanded, her eyes filtering through the crowd to find the culprit of Donovan's distraction.
"It's...it's nothing. I'm fine."
He stood up suddenly and straightened his suit jacket, eyes lost in the crowd again. He helped Jack to her feet wordlessly and Jack caught sight of the object of his attention, a pair of men with dark hair and eyes who stood sequestered in a corner, deep in conversation. One of them caught Donovan's look and something dark passed between them.
"I'm afraid...I should go. Would you like me to give you a ride home?"
"Donovan, slow down," Jack protested, her curiosity itching. "Don't be ridiculous. Just stay for the rest of the dance."
Donovan fidgeted, turning away from the men, and Jack watched his jaw twitch. "I...I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Well, my ankle's sprained and you're my ride home, so you have to stay," Jack said, with a hand on her hip. "Who are those men?"
He spared the two men one final glance and then smiled down at Jack, worry still etched in his features. "You're right, Jack. I shouldn't let them bother me. I'm sorry."
He offered his arm and Jack took it, satisfied that his anxiety had dissipated. Though he said nothing more about the men who so disconcerted him, he spent the rest of the evening casting them anxious glances and despite Jack's incessant pestering, he refused to tell her the source of his unease.
When Donovan walked her back into her house that night and bid her a hasty adieu with a measly kiss on the cheek, Jack thought less of their magical kiss under the moonlight and more of the mysterious men at the church. Donovan had never been to Irvington before, so who could he possibly know here? What history did he share with these men? Donovan had secrets, and Jack swore she would uncover them.
I thoroughly enjoyed this chapter! What secrets is Donovan hiding? Who were those men? And does anyone else think they are super adorable together?