A/N: I should probably take more time to edit this but I am impatient and really want to share a new chapter with you lovely, lovely readers 3

A/N2: Also, the fic will be rising to explicit quite soon. Just FYI. :D


Leaving her cloak at her grandmother's, Darcy spend the rest of the day chasing butterflies and watching her horse, Lady, graze by the stream. She hid in the shade and tried to ignore the sadness dwelling in her chest. Although Brock was an easy walk away, she still missed him. How could she convince him of her heart? He obviously wished to be blind to all that was in front of him, no matter how much she explained her true feelings. While losing her virtue to someone other than her betrothed may help her cause, she could easily travel down to another village and find a willing partner. She chose Brock and would not waver or find a substitute. No other man had made Darcy feel what Brock had with just the gentlest of touch or faintest of smiles. She thought he felt the same but perhaps she was wrong.

Maybe Darcy should give Brock a visit this night. She could tell he was on the precipice of losing out to his lust, or at least she assumed he was. If the only thing stopping him was a sense of duty to her virtue, then she would just have to convince him that it was a useless sense of morality. She began to form half of a plan, mindlessly making a flower crown for Lady as said horse alternated between nibbling on grass and nuzzling Darcy. When an itch tickled Darcy's shoulders, she looked behind her and saw Jack strolling out of the forest and into the field. His boots swished through the tall grass and flowers. The noise made the hair on Darcy's arm stand on end. She remembered Brock telling her to not be afraid of the mysterious clansmen. Although she could argue she was not afraid at the moment, she would have to admit she was mildly curious. The closer he walked, the more Darcy could make out of his grin and calm, easy demeanor.

"Hello, my Queen," Jack said humbly, standing still when he was a few large strides away. He offered Darcy a low bow and she rolled her eyes.

"A baron's daughter is hardly a queen. You can stop the attempt at charm," Darcy commanded and Jack shrugged.

"It depends on the baron's daughter, I suppose, and who she is to the beholder," admitted Jack and Darcy let out a small laugh.

"And pray tell, why does this beholder see a queen? Although I appreciate the sentiment, I can say I will not allow you to seduce me."

"I fully intent to leave the seducing up to Brock," Jack said with a smirk and mischief sparkling in his eyes. He sounded as if he were singing out a tease. Darcy raised her eyebrow and watched Jack for a long moment. His smirk did not falter but he did avert his gaze.

"Well, you'll be waiting a long time, I can assure you. I can hardly make heads or tails of what he wishes. One day he warms to me like a fawn to its mother and the next he can't wait to get rid of me. I know not what to think other than I should leave him to his grumpy solitude," Darcy said.

"Brock is honorable at heart. And honorable men will dance around what they wish if they fear it will sully a beautiful woman's reputation," said Jack. It was as Darcy feared, Brock was terribly moral. At least when it came to her. How horrid.

"And if the woman wants her reputation to be sullied?"

"Then she may have to hide in his bed and not give him much of a choice," Jack said with a suggestive grin. Although the thought was quite like the one Darcy had just moments ago, she could not help but wonder if it would truly help her cause. Surely, Brock would not appreciate being cornered. For certain, Darcy did not appreciate being cornered with her impending wedding.

"I fear Brock would still kick me out of his hut if I attempt that. He seems to have no difficulty sending me home at the slightest provocation," admitted Darcy, looking back down at the flowers in her hands. The crowns appeared childish all of a sudden. A pang of disappointment clenched her chest.

"Brock will come 'round, I am certain of it," Jack said gently. He crouched down to sit beside Darcy. "You feel him in your heart, yes? Like a second beat in time with your own?"

Darcy wrinkled her nose at the metaphor. Sometimes, she thought that she knew exactly what Brock felt but she hadn't felt his heartbeat inside her chest. The idea was...intriguing though. Akin to poetry, even. Biting her bottom lip, she tried to focus on feeling her heartbeat. She didn't feel any different but wondered what it would be like to have Brock's heartbeat pounding next to hers. She could easily imagine feeling it beat underneath her hands as she ran her fingers down his neck and chest before her lips followed suit. The thought caused her cheeks to flush and she looked away from Jack's intent gaze.

"Love like that only ends in utter despair or absolute joy. I have faith it will play out like a fairy tale," said Jack and Darcy let a bitter snort of derision.

"That is a rather bleak view on the matter of love. Also, I would not go as far to call it that," Darcy said, becoming distracted when Lady nuzzled her for another pat on the head. She scratched the horse between the ears. "I simply find him pleasing to pass the time with."

"Your horse, here, is pleasing to pass the time with. I think your wish of passing the time with Brock would consist of acts a tad more improper," Jack teased and Darcy couldn't help but let out a little laugh.

"I suppose that is true," shrugged Darcy. After a few beats, she pursed her lips and watched Jack as he let out his hand for Lady to sniff. Although she seemed a little wary, she allowed him to pat her on the head. "You seem to know much about Brock. What sort of women did he have interest in before I met him?"

"My better judgement tells me to let him answer that for you," Jack said with a smirk, eyes still focused on Lady. An image of the prostitute from the village flashed through Darcy's mind and she felt a tickling in her throat. Swallowing past it, she let out a sigh. Although she was fishing for the answer, she'd hate to hear that was the sort of woman Brock preferred over her.

"I think we've established that Brock hardly tells me anything," Darcy said, plucking a few more flowers to weave into the crown.

"Have we now?" Jack asked lightly. There was a teasing glint in his eye that Darcy did not appreciate given her circumstances and lack of success.

"You're hardly any help at all," said Darcy with a pout. "I did not think it would be this difficult to seduce a man. I always overheard conversations of women discussing how troublesome it was to keep an unwanted man deterred but it appears I have the problems that most women yearn for."

"Be careful. When a wolf has the taste of soft flesh, then nothing else will do," Jack warned with a wink but there didn't seem to be any ill omen in his tone. In fact, he broke out into a silly, proud grin and Darcy simply rolled her eyes at his odd metaphors.

"Are you suggesting Brock is holding himself back in fear that once wayward kiss from me will cause him to lose all control of himself?" asked Darcy skeptically, offering Jack a sidelong glance.

"I never suggested Brock was the wolf," Jack said, voice lowering slightly and strange intent hidden beneath the words. She wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to say but a shudder ran through her body, coiling in her gut as a strange anticipation she could not full name. Without warning, Jack stood up and stepped back to offer another bow. "Perhaps you should visit Brock this night. He may appreciate the company."

"He specifically told me that that he did not want me to wander out tonight. I doubt he'd react well to me disobeying a direct order," Darcy countered as Jack turned to walk away.

Without turning around, Jack shouted out his reply with a cackle. "He specifically said he would not know what he would do if he saw you. Perhaps you'll be pleasantly surprised. 'Tis a full moon tonight. A night for romance and trysts, to be certain."

As Darcy watched Jack saunter off into the forest, she wrinkled her nose. He was a strange man. She wasn't sure what to make of him yet, though he seemed rather harmless. There was an air about him that put Darcy at ease, as if she could trust he would rather put himself in harm's way before it befell her. He didn't strike her as a particularly honorable man but he seemed to stand taller around her, treating her with a respect she felt she had earned more so than one that was forced because of who her father was. What she had done so far to earn this respect, she wasn't sure.

Placing the flower crown over Lady's ears, Darcy was pleased when it did not immediately fall off. Mulling over her next actions, she brought her mind back to Brock and wondered over her next actions to ensnare the handsome blacksmith. Jack's word might have a kernel of truth in them. Timid misses only accepted what was thrown at them. If there was one thing that Darcy was not, it was timid.


Evening fell without incident but Darcy could not sit still. Although grandmother put her to work mending, Darcy still found herself looking out the window and letting out mournful sighs. As darkness fell, the air grew cooler and grandmother insisted Darcy keep her cloak on. For some reason, Darcy was annoyed by this command. She wasn't sure why, as it was one she'd easily follow without concern before. It was not a hot night but the cloak stifled her nonetheless. Yet, Darcy was a dutiful granddaughter. Given her grandmother had no inkling that Darcy would be taking Jack's advice and try to stir some romance in Brock, it was the least she could do. By this moment, all Darcy had left to lose was her pride and she realized that it if desperate times called for desperate actions, she would be with one less betrothed if she succeeded. So, surely, she could risk pride.

Nerves began to eat away at Darcy, for her grandmother did not seek sleep as early as was her habit. There were times that Darcy thought perhaps her grandmother did know the less than pure thoughts than ran through her head. Except, grandmother just hummed and did her mending in the candlelight without complaint or secretive glances. Eventually, Darcy feigned exhaustion and ran to her room, listening for the sounds of her grandmother searching for respite.

Despite Darcy's best attempts to stay alert, she fell eventually asleep. She woke hours later. Thankfully, Darcy had not missed her opportunity. It was still dark and the full moon shone high above the trees. Knowing that now was her best chance, she crept out of her room and slowly made her way to freedom. As she passed the sturdy table they used for dining, she tossed her crimson cloak onto the surface. A large weight was thrown from her shoulders at the motion and she wondered why she had not attempted it sooner.

The front door opened with the tiniest of creaks. Hardly noticed in the day but it rung loudly in the dead of night, as if calling out for anyone to stop Darcy before she could escape. She waited a long moment, the sound of her breathing mingling with cricket hums and an owl's soft hoot. Once Darcy was certain her grandmother would not stir, she stepped outside and closed the door behind her. Her breath left her chest in a long whoosh as she looked out at the forest and pathway. Moonlight illuminated the herbs and flowers growing in lush, chaotic beds that littered the front of her grandmother's home. The trees lining the forest cast long shadows on the ground. Nocturnal creatures tentatively made their presences known but Darcy felt no fear or apprehension walking further towards a pool of moonlight.

Yet, her skin began to itch and even with Darcy's best efforts, she could not alleviate the pain it caused. Undoing the laces of her kirtle in an attempt to loosen the rough fabric against her skin did not help either. Eventually, Darcy just pulled the damn thing off and tossed it by her feet. Moonlight touched her skin and she grew warm. A gentle breeze blew, tugging at her hair but pulling a satisfied sigh from her lips. Now only in a linen shift, she felt a little less bound but the itching sensation was only dulled.

Exhaustion sunk into Darcy's body, clinging to her bones. She stopped to sit near a patch of bluebells to catch her breath. The smell of the flowers was sharper than usual, tickling and stinging her nose until she sneezed. A displeased whine sounded off at the back of Darcy's head and she looked around to try and find the source. When she saw nothing, Darcy yawned. Somehow, she was dangerously fatigued but also felt like a vicious creature impatiently waiting for the right moment to pounce on its prey. Approaching Brock with the intent to seduce if she were constantly yawning may not be the best of tactics. So, she lay down on her side and cushioned her head with her arm.

Darcy had the intention of closing her eyes just until the lethargy pass. Loud howls echoed through the trees. Three different wolves sang out and she thought that they sounded excited. The last thought Darcy had before the world went dark was that she would so love to join them in celebrating whatever caused their joy.