He assisted her easily into the curricle. But as Reinette settled her skirts over the bench she twisted to reclaim one of her hands within her own. She grasped it firmly, as of daring him to even consider breaking the connection between them
( ... )
She did not possess the same certainly as Jack when it came to her own particular path, so she chose not to comment further on it. Even she was not that strong an actress.
But as difficult as it might be, as painful? She was pleased for him. Pleased at the idea of someone like Jack, cutting a swath through life and making proper work of it. So many people failed miserably at their ultimate charge --- living.
She borrowed just enough moments to cobble together what was surely something approaching a genuine smile just before his mouth gently met her own.
Jack lingered, lips on lips and contact on contact. It was strange because this was something else. The kisses of the night before had been a joke, an attempt to set tongues wagging. Though he wondered now if that hadn't been an excuse. An excuse neither of them could have quite realised.
He pulled back, after a moment, but not far. Just a breath between them, and breath that could be felt against skin.
He didn't know what to say, because he wasn't good with words. He wasn't one adept at talking because he hid himself so well.
But in his mind something struck. Something in what she'd mentioned before, about her lack of life expectancy. It worried him, worried for her fragility and he chided himself for not knowing his history well enough to know her story and not need to ask.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a whisper, stroked a finger along her cheek. "What you said, with you. What's wrong?"
She liked the way this felt. Liked the way that he felt. There was no pressure, no need to work herself into exhaustion in an attempt to impressive him. Indeed that had just spent the better part of the morning trying to push the other away.
They were resting, however briefly. And for some reason against Jack it actually felt restful. Some, she was certain, saw his eyes and his smile and his form and found temptation. She found it in this.
His question caused a sharp intake of breath. She had thought she had escaped her own inquiry from their interchange of confessions. Not only had he come back around to her own weakness, he had done so when she was close against him and there was very little to do to hide. Any attempt made to dissemble, and he would feel it. He would know.
Her gaze lowered by inches to his mouth, and then her eyes closed altogether as his finger moved over her cheek.
"I suppose the answer depends upon what doctor you ask. They all have their opinion."
Jack felt her falter, but he was prepared for it. He knew his question would have not been an easy one, and that to a degree it was well past his place to ask. But ask he did, and he was there when her body shifted. There with an arm tight around her, supporting her.
He didn't want to push too much. But then he felt that perhaps she'd let him know if it was too much. If they got to the point where enough was enough. If she wanted to withdraw, he had confidence that she would.
She did not immediately pull away. It was born from a sense that with how much was already exposed and opened, what harm could a few more words be?
If she did not stop to examine the question, she would be fine. Her chin lifted slightly again with resolve.
"My constitution. My lungs. My breeding. My blood." Instinctualy her palms shifted to rest flat against Jack's chest, effectively hiding the scars on her risks. Reinette chided herself for not already putting on her driving gloves.
"I have been placed on the most absurd diets. You would laugh, I think."
Lifting one of his hands, Jack placed it atop hers against his chest. The words saddened him, because that was the sort of thing he couldn't fight. He never could. Not nature, it was too strong.
"Oh would I?" he said, with a small attempt at a smile, squeezing his hand over hers. "I've spent the last ten years living off pizza, chocolate éclairs and coffee. Not much diets stranger than that now, is there?"
"I must remember to take you to the greenhouses," she said in passing. Not an attempt to distract him, but something she genuinely thought Jack might enjoy after sufficient rest and time to nurse today's wounds.
"And I cannot imagine what sort of eclairs you were eating. Hardly a properly made one if they did not come from the kitchen's here."
She was of course making light of a situation that had been ever present in her life since the age of seven. She recalled her own tears as she begged her mother to be allowed to return to the convent school and her friends there. And of course the subsequent refusal. It was the following summer that she met the Doctor.
"Mine was a prescribed diet of celery and tonic water. I cannot think it had the result they intended."
"I tell you what, you get me one of those eclairs and I'll get you a meat feast from Jubilee Pizza and we're even," he smiled again, and a little of it to himself at the absurdity of the idea of bringing a takeaway pizza to 18th Century France.
It was the sort of absurd idea that he liked.
Again it was nice, in a way, to busy the mind with silly thoughts of things that didn't matter. To pretend that there wasn't things that did. But pretending only lasted so long.
The idea of such a feeble diet annoyed him. It infuriated him. Maybe she was ill. Maybe. But maybe she was ill in a way that in times he knew could be treated so very easily. He could help, couldn't he? This time he could help.
"I'll get you medicine," he said quickly. The words almost poured out so he couldn't take them back. "Real medicine. Medicine that will work. I can take you to see a doctor."
"Jack, if you continue to smile at me just so?" Reinette was caught up in the moment of reprieve. The ease between them and the teasing words and though it was very different than the night before it was still welcome. "I shall see you are brought and entire meal of French pastries
( ... )
"Oh then in that case I'll have to make sure to keep smiling then, won't I?" He lifted a finger and brushed it again over her cheek. Just the briefest of touches.
"Is he now?" he added, an eyebrow lifted suggestively. "What's he look like? Because you know I've been known to have a fine hand for chefs." He laughed, teased, it was as though the moment needed the lightness to contrast the dark.
He saw though, as the conversation progressed, how her eyes fell with the tone in her skin. It wasn't fair of him really, to offer things out of her time and understanding-- No. No that was wrong, it wasn't that she wouldn't understand. She had the capacity for it, and her mind was certainly able, but still, he may as well be offering to cast a spell.
But could he let it rest there? Not comfortably, he thought. "It's not the same," he said quietly, his voice a mirror to hers. "The people I could take you to, they know more. They understand and they could help. They could
( ... )
"He is extremely attractive, if it must be said. I have only now found a kitchen staff that can perform the most basic of functions in his presence. It was growing irritating."
Yes, the conversation was far superior.
"And he is obviously quite skilled with his hands. If you are pleasing enough perhaps I will allow you into the kitchens when he kneads the dough."
There was an almost desperate need for him to latch onto the absurdity of this part of the conversation and abandon the rest. Reinette did not like feeling desperate.
"You cannot know that," she countered. Not because she was so certain that he could not. But because what she said was true. She was weary of it. When she stepped away from Louis, to some extent she stepped away from the fight as well. There was something different now, a sense resolve. "And beauty is hardly a reason to preserve a thing. Some of the loveliest things I know are the flowers in my gardens. Their time is measured as well. Perhaps I do not need mending."
"Oh, well, best not let your kitchen staff meet me then."
He understood the need to take solace in the ridiculous. He did it so very often in his own life. It was often written off as flippancy, or worse as heartlessness. But that wasn't it. It was a barrier, a protective measure, but one she seemed to share.
And so the next line of the thought would voiced. Quiet, an obvious continuation of a thought. "I wonder..." he said, thoughtful in his tone, "just how alike we are..."
He took a breath at her reasoning. He could quite easily find a counterpoint to it, but that wouldn't be fair. He knew too that sometimes people found strength in being in control of their own mortality. He wouldn't take that from her. So for now, at least, he'd not push.
"Fine," he said. "Fine." And he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"I am going my best to keep them away. Even if that requires that I be the one to turn down your bed every night."
Though it was not an entirely unpleasant thought. Even as heated as their argument had been, it still stood as the best day she had shared in some time.
But at his question her gaze fluttered upward and then found an anchor. The truth of the matter was not difficult to sort through to find.
"A great deal, I think."
It was not always a good thing. She would know best how to get underneath his skin. And him in turn her. There would be far less places to hide. This time she did not close her eyes as his lips touched her forehead. Instead she presented him with the brightest of smiles for when he pulled away.
Reinette was not so foolish as to think she won.
"Well, Jack. Have we argued our way into an appetite or would you still like to go driving?"
"Well I'm sure a clever woman like you would never turn down my bed." He amused himself with twisting and playing with the words and their intention. It never hurt to take them elsewhere, or... he didn't expect it would ever hurt with her.
Her smile was warming, and it prompted a smile from him in return. A reaction almost reflex. He couldn't help it, he'd be foolish not to smile when on the receiving end of such a gaze.
The question prompted in his mind an immediate thought, and he knew best to push it away. If she was ill then the cold air was likely not best for her (and certainly not in the 18th Century. She could hardly go and take an asprin). But then to say as much would be to be saying something he didn't wish to. So instead, he nodded, twisted a slight smirk again.
"But of course I would." Reinette actually caught the light tones of her own laughter. "Because I am actually clever enough to know that a bed is not always required. Had you not heard Jack?"
Yes, that was definitely her laughter.
"I suppose the future is not as advanced as I thought."
She accepted his answer easily, as neither of them had breakfast that morning. Reinette supposed it spoke to a certain eagerness on her part to spend the day with Jack which she would have to examine later. After all, it was not all play acting and a determination to set the court on its ear.
She stepped away and felt the air rush in to fill between them as she smoothed her skirts and then offered him her arm.
Reply
But as difficult as it might be, as painful? She was pleased for him. Pleased at the idea of someone like Jack, cutting a swath through life and making proper work of it. So many people failed miserably at their ultimate charge --- living.
She borrowed just enough moments to cobble together what was surely something approaching a genuine smile just before his mouth gently met her own.
Yes, Reinette offered. She was sorry as well.
Reply
He pulled back, after a moment, but not far. Just a breath between them, and breath that could be felt against skin.
He didn't know what to say, because he wasn't good with words. He wasn't one adept at talking because he hid himself so well.
But in his mind something struck. Something in what she'd mentioned before, about her lack of life expectancy. It worried him, worried for her fragility and he chided himself for not knowing his history well enough to know her story and not need to ask.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a whisper, stroked a finger along her cheek. "What you said, with you. What's wrong?"
Reply
They were resting, however briefly. And for some reason against Jack it actually felt restful. Some, she was certain, saw his eyes and his smile and his form and found temptation. She found it in this.
His question caused a sharp intake of breath. She had thought she had escaped her own inquiry from their interchange of confessions. Not only had he come back around to her own weakness, he had done so when she was close against him and there was very little to do to hide. Any attempt made to dissemble, and he would feel it. He would know.
Her gaze lowered by inches to his mouth, and then her eyes closed altogether as his finger moved over her cheek.
"I suppose the answer depends upon what doctor you ask. They all have their opinion."
Reply
He didn't want to push too much. But then he felt that perhaps she'd let him know if it was too much. If they got to the point where enough was enough. If she wanted to withdraw, he had confidence that she would.
"And what about the ones you ask?"
Reply
If she did not stop to examine the question, she would be fine. Her chin lifted slightly again with resolve.
"My constitution. My lungs. My breeding. My blood." Instinctualy her palms shifted to rest flat against Jack's chest, effectively hiding the scars on her risks. Reinette chided herself for not already putting on her driving gloves.
"I have been placed on the most absurd diets. You would laugh, I think."
Reply
"Oh would I?" he said, with a small attempt at a smile, squeezing his hand over hers. "I've spent the last ten years living off pizza, chocolate éclairs and coffee. Not much diets stranger than that now, is there?"
Reply
"And I cannot imagine what sort of eclairs you were eating. Hardly a properly made one if they did not come from the kitchen's here."
She was of course making light of a situation that had been ever present in her life since the age of seven. She recalled her own tears as she begged her mother to be allowed to return to the convent school and her friends there. And of course the subsequent refusal. It was the following summer that she met the Doctor.
"Mine was a prescribed diet of celery and tonic water. I cannot think it had the result they intended."
Reply
It was the sort of absurd idea that he liked.
Again it was nice, in a way, to busy the mind with silly thoughts of things that didn't matter. To pretend that there wasn't things that did. But pretending only lasted so long.
The idea of such a feeble diet annoyed him. It infuriated him. Maybe she was ill. Maybe. But maybe she was ill in a way that in times he knew could be treated so very easily. He could help, couldn't he? This time he could help.
"I'll get you medicine," he said quickly. The words almost poured out so he couldn't take them back. "Real medicine. Medicine that will work. I can take you to see a doctor."
Reply
Reply
"Is he now?" he added, an eyebrow lifted suggestively. "What's he look like? Because you know I've been known to have a fine hand for chefs." He laughed, teased, it was as though the moment needed the lightness to contrast the dark.
He saw though, as the conversation progressed, how her eyes fell with the tone in her skin. It wasn't fair of him really, to offer things out of her time and understanding-- No. No that was wrong, it wasn't that she wouldn't understand. She had the capacity for it, and her mind was certainly able, but still, he may as well be offering to cast a spell.
But could he let it rest there? Not comfortably, he thought. "It's not the same," he said quietly, his voice a mirror to hers. "The people I could take you to, they know more. They understand and they could help. They could ( ... )
Reply
"He is extremely attractive, if it must be said. I have only now found a kitchen staff that can perform the most basic of functions in his presence. It was growing irritating."
Yes, the conversation was far superior.
"And he is obviously quite skilled with his hands. If you are pleasing enough perhaps I will allow you into the kitchens when he kneads the dough."
There was an almost desperate need for him to latch onto the absurdity of this part of the conversation and abandon the rest. Reinette did not like feeling desperate.
"You cannot know that," she countered. Not because she was so certain that he could not. But because what she said was true. She was weary of it. When she stepped away from Louis, to some extent she stepped away from the fight as well. There was something different now, a sense resolve. "And beauty is hardly a reason to preserve a thing. Some of the loveliest things I know are the flowers in my gardens. Their time is measured as well. Perhaps I do not need mending."
Reply
He understood the need to take solace in the ridiculous. He did it so very often in his own life. It was often written off as flippancy, or worse as heartlessness. But that wasn't it. It was a barrier, a protective measure, but one she seemed to share.
And so the next line of the thought would voiced. Quiet, an obvious continuation of a thought. "I wonder..." he said, thoughtful in his tone, "just how alike we are..."
He took a breath at her reasoning. He could quite easily find a counterpoint to it, but that wouldn't be fair. He knew too that sometimes people found strength in being in control of their own mortality. He wouldn't take that from her. So for now, at least, he'd not push.
"Fine," he said. "Fine." And he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Reply
Though it was not an entirely unpleasant thought. Even as heated as their argument had been, it still stood as the best day she had shared in some time.
But at his question her gaze fluttered upward and then found an anchor. The truth of the matter was not difficult to sort through to find.
"A great deal, I think."
It was not always a good thing. She would know best how to get underneath his skin. And him in turn her. There would be far less places to hide. This time she did not close her eyes as his lips touched her forehead. Instead she presented him with the brightest of smiles for when he pulled away.
Reinette was not so foolish as to think she won.
"Well, Jack. Have we argued our way into an appetite or would you still like to go driving?"
Reply
Her smile was warming, and it prompted a smile from him in return. A reaction almost reflex. He couldn't help it, he'd be foolish not to smile when on the receiving end of such a gaze.
The question prompted in his mind an immediate thought, and he knew best to push it away. If she was ill then the cold air was likely not best for her (and certainly not in the 18th Century. She could hardly go and take an asprin). But then to say as much would be to be saying something he didn't wish to. So instead, he nodded, twisted a slight smirk again.
"Oh I've always got an appetite."
Reply
Yes, that was definitely her laughter.
"I suppose the future is not as advanced as I thought."
She accepted his answer easily, as neither of them had breakfast that morning. Reinette supposed it spoke to a certain eagerness on her part to spend the day with Jack which she would have to examine later. After all, it was not all play acting and a determination to set the court on its ear.
She stepped away and felt the air rush in to fill between them as she smoothed her skirts and then offered him her arm.
"Shall I give you a tour of the kitchen's then?"
Reply
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