Jackelle 2.0

“Do you need anything? Water? Maybe I should check on your bandages.”

“Bree, I’m fine.”

“You were stabbed. Again.” Brielle was pretending to tidy up the hotel room but mostly she was just using that as an excuse to pace. If she held still too long she wouldn’t be able to do anything but start crying again.

“You’re not fine, nothing about this is fine, Jack. People are trying to kill you.”

“Okay, well, they didn’t succeed. I’m hard to get rid of.”

“That’s not funny,” Brielle snapped, aimlessly folding and re-folding some clothes. “This is serious. It’s just luck that he stabbed your shoulder and not your heart. You could’ve died ten feet from me and it could happen again. This is the second time I’ve watched you almost die and what am I supposed to do if I lose you, Jack? What happens if-“

“Hey, easy. No one is losing anyone.” Jack stood up from where he’d been sitting on the edge of the bed, catching her wrists and pulling away the shirt she’d been strangling.

“Go lay down, you need to rest,” she scolded. Jack pulled her closer and she tried to squirm away. “You’re going to hurt your shoulder.”

“To hell with my shoulder,” Jack replied. “Brielle, I’m fine. I promise. Hey, look at me.”

Brielle finally abandoned the laundry and looked up at him. She hadn’t even realized that she’d started crying again until he reached out to brush a tear off her cheek.

“I’m fine,” he said again. “It was just a little poke. It kind of tickled, really.”

Brielle scowled. “Jack, stop kidding around.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Okay? I promise. Please come to bed?”

Brielle relented, shooing him into bed before changing out of her fancy dress and washing her face. She stared at her reflection for a few moments. She looked pale and worried, but she supposed anyone would look like that after seeing a stranger try to kill their husband. She felt sick just thinking about it. She reached up to place her hands on her stomach, feeling the small but definite bump that had been forming. She’d been hiding the news of her pregnancy for almost three weeks but she didn’t think she could keep it a secret much longer. The idea of someone killing Jack before he even got to meet his child made her want to throw up. But she wasn’t up to having the conversation tonight; she was absolutely drained and even if Jack was trying to hide it she was sure he was too. She could wait a little longer.

Brielle left the washroom and climbed into bed, careful to avoid jostling Jack’s injured shoulder. She laid down on his other side and curled against him. She thought he was already asleep but he turned his head to kiss her forehead and she clung to him as more tears leaked out of her eyes.

She barely got any sleep despite being exhausted, but she got up early and got them ready to leave on time anyway. Marnie had indeed found someone to act as security as they traveled, though Brielle was a little wary about it. She suddenly saw potential assassins everywhere. Since Jack wanted to stick to their schedule, they set off that afternoon for Plimford.

“The dean of the university at Plimford is good friends with Theron Montesse,” Marnie said, glancing at Brielle as if for confirmation. Brielle nodded absently.

“As such, Theron has had some sway with him,” Marnie went on. “The university began offering more scholarships and so the dean asked for you to appear at the annual gala they host for alumni and people who donate to the university. There will be a lot of people there eager to see you, but there will definitely be some more of the old fashioned upper crust types there too. So just, you know, be prepared for the dark looks.”

“Great,” Jack sighed.

“Don’t worry, there’ll likely be more supporters than anything else and they’ll be very excited to see you both.”

Between Marnie being with them in the carriage and the long ride and preparations for the gala, Brielle didn’t get a chance to talk to Jack about her condition. She decided it could wait until after his speech and the party anyway, otherwise he’d be distracted. She almost wanted to ask him to just cancel, given the assassination attempt. But she knew he wasn’t going to cower in fear and hide, so she kept quiet despite the fact that she felt close to passing out the entire time they were getting ready for the gala. She helped Jack finalize his speech in the morning and she could hear him muttering to himself as she finished getting dressed.

She’d chosen a blue dress, since it was her signature color. It was simple powder blue silk, with very ruffly sleeves hanging off her shoulders. She simply tied her hair back with a matching ribbon and the only jewelry she wore were her wedding ring and the necklace Jack had gotten her. His speech practice broke off as she stepped into the little living room of their suite, adjusting the bow in her hair. She glanced up to find him watching her.

“What?” she frowned, temporarily panicking that he’d noticed the bump under her clothes.

“You look beautiful,” he said, and she blushed. He smiled as he stood up and pulled her into a kiss.

“Don’t strain your shoulder,” Brielle said after she pulled away. “And don’t say it’s fine,” she added sternly as he opened his mouth. He sighed.

“Just please be careful and don’t hurt yourself,” Brielle said, softening and fixing his tie. “I can’t have anything else happening to you.”

“Does that mean you like me?” he asked, lips twitching.

“Just a little.” She leaned up to kiss him again. “Let’s go.”

Brielle was on edge all evening but she tried her best not to let it show. Jack’s speech received a lot of enthusiastic applause and Marnie had been right; a lot of people wanted to meet him and talk to him. Brielle stayed by his side as long as she could, but after a while she needed to take a breather. She stood over beside the refreshments table, holding a flute of champagne that she wasn’t going to drink. It seemed like the evening was going to be a total success, until she spotted two familiar faces approaching her.

Victoria and Lars Pinkerton were among the “old fashioned upper crust” that Marnie had mentioned. Brielle had met them a few times; the siblings were some of the most atrocious people she’d ever come across. Victoria sauntered in Brielle’s direction, her jet black curls twinkling with diamond pins and her bright purple skirts swishing around her.

“Brielle,” she cooed. “How nice to see you again, darling.”

“Hello, Victoria,” Brielle sighed.

“That was quite the impressive speech your husband gave,” Lars said, smirking in a way that implied he wasn’t impressed at all.

“He’s a wonderful public speaker,” Brielle said, ignoring his contempt.

“I have to tell you, Lars and I were taking bets on how long it would take for you to find your way to the refreshments,” Victoria said, laughing lightly as if they were all in on a joke. “You always did have such a sweet tooth. Between you and me, dear, you might want to slow down on the pastries.”

Victoria lowered her voice slightly. “It looks like you’re starting to put on some weight.” She glanced pointedly at Brielle’s stomach and Brielle’s hand tightened on the glass of champagne.

“I suppose it’s natural to let oneself go after marriage,” Victoria went on. “But in your case I wouldn’t risk it. As one woman to another.”

“Is that so,” Brielle said flatly.

“What with your husband hiring women for his staff,” Lars said, glancing over toward where Jack and Marnie were talking with some scholarship students. Victoria nodded.

“You’d best be careful,” she said. “I mean, you still have a pretty face but the little assistant over there is at least maintaining her figure. And truth be told, as quaint as your husband is, he is rather handsome.”

“Now Vicky, he’s not quaint,” Lars said. “He’s progressive. I’m sure the women he hires will learn a lot, working under him.”

Victoria snickered at the insinuation in his tone and Brielle felt fury rising in her chest. She tried to tell herself not to let it get to her.

“Though I heard someone attacked him in Faybell,” Lars added, taking a sip of the drink he was holding. “Maybe you won’t have to worry about mistresses after all, if he keeps pissing off the wrong people.”

Brielle reacted without thinking. She splashed the full glass of champagne into Victoria’s face, making her screech. Then she punched Lars in the face hard enough to draw blood. He dropped his drink and clutched his nose, cursing. Brielle’s heart was about to pound angrily right out of her chest and she was aware that everyone in the room was suddenly looking at her because of all the commotion. She set her champagne flute down so hard it cracked.

“Excuse me,” she said to the crowd. The banquet hall was quiet aside from Victoria and Lars’s fussing as Brielle turned on her heel and walked out. She went out into the hallway and walked with no idea of where she was going. She found a closet full of cleaning supplies and locked herself in just before she burst into tears. Normally the likes of the Pinkertons wouldn’t shake her up so badly, but she was pretty pre-shaken tonight. She jumped and almost banged her head on a shelf as the door opened.

“Bree,” Jack said, looking at her worriedly. “There you are. What happened?”

“N-nothing,” Brielle hiccuped through her sobbing.

“Brielle. Something has been bothering you for days now. You have to tell me what’s going on.”

She shook her head, trying to catch her breath. “You sh-should get back.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Jack-“

He smooshed himself into the closet with her, shutting the door and grabbing her shoulders. “Bree, talk to me. Please.”

She managed to draw in a shaky breath. “I didn’t imagine this conversation happening in a janitor closet,” she sniffed.

“What conversation? Are you…unhappy? With me, I mean?”

“What?” Brielle was so startled that she managed to stop crying for a few moments. “Jack, that’s a stupid question. I love you, more than anything.”

“Is this about the poorly planned assassination attempt, then?”

“Yes. No. I mean, that’s part of it.”

“Brielle, I told you, I’m really fine-“

“It’s not fine, Jack!” Brielle interrupted. “Stop trying to act like it’s fine. But it is why I…need to tell you something. I wasn’t going to yet. I was trying to wait until the tour was over.”

“Tell me what?” Jack was frowning in concern.

“A few weeks ago I started throwing up a lot,” Brielle said reluctantly. “So I saw a doctor. And we realized that I’m…”

“That you’re what? Brielle, are you sick?”

She opened her mouth but no sound came out at first and Jack’s grip on her shoulders tightened in alarm.

“Brielle.”

“I’m pregnant,” she squeaked out softly. He froze.

“What?”

“I’m pregnant,” she repeated.

“You’re pregnant,” Jack said slowly, looking dazed. “Wait, you said a few weeks ago? Bree, why didn’t you tell me?”

Brielle felt her eyes get damp again. “You worked so hard to get here and I knew you’d just put it all on hold to worry about me and I didn’t want to do that to you and I thought it would freak you out and then someone tried to kill you and then the stupid Pinkertons were saying awful things about the assassin and how I’m getting fat so I attacked them and I shouldn’t have done that Jack I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to embarrass you I just hate them and I’m scared and-“

“Hey, Bree, I need you to breathe.”

Jack pulled her closer to keep her from crumpling onto the floor as she hiccuped and dissolved into tears again.