Part 7 – Dreams

Jack was sitting at the small counter, staring into his glass while Chrissy prepared to open the bar for the first customers. One of her helpers, a young woman, had already arrived and rearranged the chairs and tables in the main room.

"She is a little hot tempered, isn't she?"

"What?" Jack looked up at his friend and Chrissy grinned.

"Your wife. Not that easygoing."

"No, she's... she had a tough day." Jack explained and wondered, why he even tried to defend Irina. He felt bad. Not only had he hurt her, he had also chained her to her bed. No lady deserved to be treated like that. He swallowed the remains in his glass at once and slammed it to the table. Why did he feel bad? This woman was not only unthankful, but also rude, stubborn, traitorous and a liar. She was a criminal and technically she was his prisoner. He should already have arrested her yesterday. A prisoner was a prisoner and he wouldn't treat her better or worse than others.

"Here, take another one..." Chrissy offered to fill his glass again, but Jack refused.

"No, thanks. I had enough..." he murmured. "I think I will go to sleep now. I'm more than tired..."

He got up and was about to leave the room through the front door when he caught Chrissy's confused glance.

"Jack, your room is..." she started and pointed at the stairs at the other side of the room, but Jack cut her off.

"I'm sleeping in the barn." He announced.

"Oh..." Chrissy said, staring at him for a long time, even forgetting about the glass in her hand. Then suddenly she seemed to remember where she was. "Fine, that's none of my business." She shrugged her shoulders and continued drying the glasses.

"Damned right..." Jack murmured and left the room. He crossed the small yard to the barn and entered it. He climbed the stairs to the upper level where the hay was stored. When he had found a good place to sleep, he sank down and stared at the ceiling. Why was this woman always in his mind? He growled and forced his thoughts away from her. Listening to the sound of the horses and birds outside, he soon fell asleep.


The earth under her naked feet was cold and thorns hurt her sensitive feet when she stepped onto them in her desperate run. The forest was so dark that she couldn't see her own hand and she screamed in fear.

When she looked down at herself, she found herself in her night clothing.

"Irina... go! Run..." She spun around and saw her mother surrounded by soldiers. She was unable to scream, unable to run back. Her legs didn't seem to be her own. So she had to watch them kill her. Over and over again... it didn't stop. She could feel her mother's pain as if it was her own.

"NO! NO, STOP!" She screamed and fell to the ground. "Stop it, please..." She knew this was a dream... she always knew – still, she wasn't able to wake up. She had to see it again and again. She could never forget the pictures, the hate and the pain in her heart. She closed her eyes and suddenly she felt that she was no longer alone in the darkness. She felt arms pulling her into a protective embrace and when she opened her eyes, she was on a clearing, sitting at a fire. It warmed her body as well as her heart and soul.

She smiled and enjoyed the warmth, a wonderful warmth that gave her security and made her feel comfortable. Then she turned and looked at the man who was sitting behind her. As if she had never done anything else, she kissed Jack Bristow, her eyes drowning in his. His hands pulled her against his hot body and she moaned sensually at the wonderful sensations his touches sent through her body. All her fears and memories were erased... every little kiss made her forget until she didn't know who she was anymore.

She pressed herself closer to him, enjoying the sweet oblivion his closeness gave her. She felt his mouth explore her body, softly caressing her breasts, then her belly. Closing her eyes, she pulled him closer.

"Jack..." Her voice was a longing whisper. His lips went down her abdomen and she laid her head back in anticipation.

When she opened her eyes again, the fire was too bright for her eyes to bear and she moaned painfully and wanted to say to him that they should move somewhere else, when she became aware of the wooden ceiling.

She turned her head away from the almost blinding light of the sun that shone into her face and found that it was a bed she was lying on, not near a fire on a clearing, and the room was empty.

It took Irina a few moments to realize what she had dreamed. Then she sat up so abruptly that she cried out in pain, since she forgot about her still cuffed wrist.

"Oh god..." she murmured, firstly because of her hurting wrist, secondly because of the dream that now got into her conscious mind. And thirdly – which was probably worst of all – due to the realization how much that dream had aroused her – even more, how much she wished that it had not been just a dream.

She turned a little to be able to reach the cuff, then she pulled at the iron with all her strength until tears started to fill her eyes, and she thought she would rip off her own hand. She slammed her fists against the wall behind her and didn't care about the hurt in her arm. She wanted to punish herself for her dream. She hated herself for dreaming about Jack. He was an enemy, a soldier of the queen. He was a bastard, such as the men who had killed her mother had been. They were worse than any rebel would ever be. The queen's soldiers didn't know anything about honor and dignity.

Her rage returned, filling the deep void inside her that her thoughts had left. Rage she had felt all her life.

When she heard the key turn in the lock, she was fully under control of herself again. Jack entered the room and found her leaning against the wall. He closed the door behind him and approached the bed slowly. Their eyes were locked in a silent challenge although neither of them had said a word yet.

"How long did I sleep?" Irina finally asked emotionless and Jack looked out of the window.

"It's afternoon, so I assume about six or seven hours." He sat down on the bed and opened the chain around her wrist. She didn't move her arm when it was free, just looked at the man in front of her. Jack took her hand and looked shocked at her wounded skin.

"For heaven's sake, what did you do?"

"Nothing..." Irina murmured and pulled her hand out of his to look at her skin which was grazed by the iron chain. Only now she noticed that she was bleeding. "This is nothing... I was angry..." she finally explained and looked at Jack again. "...at you. I swear, I want to kill you."

"Yes, I expected that." He said and got up. He searched in his bag and finally found what he was looking for. He went back to the bed and opened a small box. "Give me your hand," he ordered and when she didn't react, he took her hand.

"I don't need your help!" Irina hissed and wanted to pull away from his touch but he held her arm.

"Shut up," he said sharply, but also with a certain softness. "You're the most stubborn woman I have ever met. How could you hurt yourself that much?"

He pulled a bottle out of his box and opened it. "This might hurt a little, but I have to treat this." Before she could contradict, he soaked a clean towel with the liquid and laid it to her wound. Irina almost screamed, and pulled away her hand.

"Are you insane?" she burst out and Jack grabbed her hand back.

"I wouldn't have to do this if you hadn't been acting stubborn!"

"And I wouldn't have had to do that if you hadn't chained me and then left." She countered furiously and bit her teeth when he continued cleaning her wound with the alcohol.

"I wouldn't need to chain you if you just started to act reasonable and stopped attacking me or trying to run away!" he murmured and finished his work by laying some leaves to the wound and binding a thin white strap of cloth around her wrist. "It should be okay again in a few days." He then murmured and got up. "Now get dressed. I want to leave this village before the sun goes down."

"Where are we going?" Irina asked and held her hurting wrist, feeling too proud to show her pain.

"I decided that it would be best to take you to my manor. We'll be safe there and can decide about how to go on."

"No..." Irina got up. "No, I have to go to London and I will."

"London?" Jack asked and looked at her. "I don't think..."

"I have to go to London! I swear to you, Mr. Bristow, no matter how many chains you use, I will always try to run away until I am in London."

He stood up slowly, his eyes scanning her thoughtfully but also suspiciously. "Why do you want to go there so badly? Are you planning an attack?"

"No!" Irina replied truthfully. "I can't tell you... it's personal! But I swear it has nothing to do with killing or attacking anybody." She held his eyes for a long time and finally he nodded.

"Fine, here's the deal. We will go to London. After everything is done there, you'll accompany me to my house where we will talk and decide about how to go on and then get an annulment for the marriage. This is under one condition. You have to promise me to not try to run away."

"I won't run away." Irina assured, but Jack didn't let it go.

"Swear." He demanded and Irina looked at him for a long time. She had never broken a promise. If she swore, she meant it. But she couldn't tell him that she planned to meet her sister and then return to her house. Promises had always been somewhat sacred to her, so how could she make a promise if she knew she couldn't keep it?

"I promise." She finally murmured and for a moment she felt guilty. Then she wondered why she even bothered. A promise given to an English soldier – worse, one of the highest ranking officers of the queen was worthless and merely a means to an end.

Jack was silent for a long time, obviously measuring how trustworthy her promise was. Then he finally nodded. "Okay. I will take you to London. If you get ready, we can leave as soon as possible. It should take us about three days to get there."