I wanted to write a bit more about these two, portraying more of their personalities and the dynamic of their relationship. The chapter will be nr. 15. I will move it in a few days. I know it is a bit messy, posting new chapters in between, but can't make myself take down those I have already posted. Sorry for the mess, and thank you for sticking with me and this story. I promise you all there is more to come, both good and bad.

As always, I love hearing from you, your comments sparking inspiration every time. So let me know what you think.

He woke the next morning, a calm silence inside, as he studied the sleeping form of the girl beside him. She rested in his arms, her wavy hair a dark halo around her head against the pillow, her breath drawn calmly through slightly parted lips. She looked the image of innocence, he thought, and yet, she was not so innocent anymore.

The memory of the night resonated through him, sending a tingle down his spine at the thought. He had been on the verge of desperation, contemplating a run of the roofs in the black of night to clear his head. As his door had creaked open, he had nearly hoped for some emergency to take his mind of her. Instead, she had entered the room. Half-naked, she had stood there and asked him not to reject her as she offered herself to him. It was an offer neither his heart nor his body could resist.

He smiled and closed his eyes nuzzling his nose against her neck pulling her close. Elisabeth stirred and woke.

"Good morning, Love," he said, his voice coarse from sleeping.

A glowing smile flickered over her face when her eyes opened, a faint rosy taint spreading on her cheeks as she wriggled around within his embrace to face him.

"How are you feeling? Any regrets?" he asked.

Answering his question, she shook her head decisively. "No," she said, "I don't regret anything."

His hand stroke a lock of hair from her chin and moved to caress the skin of her neck, speckled in dark bruises where he had marked her last night. Marks on her skin of his making, marks of hunger and passion, of fulfilment. Marks letting anyone know she was his. He liked the thought.

"Good," he said, feeling reassured. He knew what awaited downstairs; at least, regret was not a concern.

The morning was already well under way, the sounds outside dying down as the Rooks made their way inside the dining hall for breakfast. His day was packed, he knew that he would have to leave shortly after breakfast, but Jacob ignored it. He wanted to make the most of this first morning with her and the limited time they had before they would have to face everyone.

Hefting himself up on one elbow, he drew her under him and kissed her gently. She stretched like a contented cat, arching her back against him and curled her fingers in his hair. The kiss was slow and tender, rid of the fervent hunger possessing them both the night before.

Unfortunately it could not last. Elisabeth had noted the time too, and now she broke the kiss.

"I have to get up," she said grudgingly, "I was supposed to be in the kitchen an hour ago. They will be wondering where I am."

She nudged him aside and sat up, clutching the covers tightly to her chest, a bit more modest in the bright morning light, than under the cower of darkness. Jacob curled against her back and trailed kisses along her arm and shoulder.

"Mhm...," he leisurely purred against her skin. "And what will you be wearing?" He watched in amusement as her gaze shifted to the floor where the nightshirt lay discarded in a bundle, and then turned to him, wide eyed.

"Oh," she said. "I have nothing to wear." Jacob gave her a wide grin.

"I don't mind, Love," he said ghosting the pale skin of her back with his hand. "You could just stay here, like this for today."

At that, she scoffed, making him chuckle at her irritated expression.

"I'll fetch your things," he said as he got up. He pulled on his clothes, internally amused at her reaction as she realized her clothes were left in her room down the hall. Her decision last night was made on impulse he mused, casting a glance at her slender form. She was still a bit too thin, but the strength residing in her reminded him of a twig of willow; strong and pliant for its size.

She sat on the edge of his bed wrapped in the cover, combing through her hair with her fingers as he finished dressing, drawing on his boots, then exited and walked down the hall to Elisabeth's room. He found her clothes lying neatly folded on her chair. The shirt he bought her as a replacement for the one he tore, her undergarments and the tattered grey skirt she always wore. The fabric was worn thin, patched in several places and the edges frayed with use. She needs something new, he thought as he walked back.

He waited in the office while she dressed, going over the supplies and noting down what he needed to restock later in the day. At the back of his mind, he wondered what had come of her father's assets when he died. Whatever he brought with him from India was probably long gone; stolen and sold all those years ago, but he must have had a bank account. Surely, someone within the order would know. A matter to take up with Greenie, it was.

When she entered a few minutes later, she looked the way she usually did, her wavy hair pulled back in a loose braid and coiled on her neck, the clean white shirt tucked into her skirt at her narrow waist. However, the tightfitting collar could not conceal the marks he had made on her neck, no matter how modest it was. She felt his gaze linger there on her neck, and noticed the faint smile ghosting his lips.

"What?" she said and turned to face the mirror before he could say anything. As she saw the dark bruises, she knew what they were. Abashed, she turned to him and covered her mouth with both hands.

"Oh, God!" she said faintly. "Jacob, everyone will know."

Jacob crossed the space between them and pulled her into his arms, chuckling at her nervousness.

"I'm afraid they already do, Love," he said and kissed her hair. "You see; you weren't in your room, last night when the guard knocked your door, and Tom came here to mount a search for you… I'm sure he let the rest of the lads know what he found in my room."

Nothing travelled as fast as good gossip within the base, and seedy information like this was like wildfire.

"Oh, God!" she said again pressing her hands against her burning cheeks, but as she met his twinkling gaze, a smile sprouted on her lips and then she broke into a fit of giggles.

"Oh, Jacob! What are we going to do?"

"We are going to go downstairs for breakfast," he said, putting his arm around her reassuringly as he led her out the door.

Outside the dining hall, he put his hand on the small of her back and was about to open the door when she stalled.

"Wait. Just give me a minute," she said and put her hands to her cheeks, trying to cool down the red roses blooming there, then closed her eyes and breathed out through pursed lips.

"That won't be much help," he thought to himself while biting down a smile. He knew the Rooks; they were in for a few laughs and cheers before the day was over and another blush would soon return.

He opened the door and they entered, the buzz of the crowd greeting them with familiarity. People were in the middle of the meal, and most did not notice them, yet. However, the lads had been keeping an eye out for him, and now they all turned their heads in their direction.

"I'll be leaving with the Rooks just after breakfast and be gone until late in the evening," he said. Faint whistles trailed from the table where the lads were sitting, the sound tugging a smile across his lips. He knew they were adamant to irk and unsettle him. At the sound, Elisabeth's eyes flicked past him to the table, prompting wolf-whistles and chuckles from the lads and Elisabeth turned bright red.

"Oh, the insolence..." he said his gaze fleeting to the floor, attention directed at the lads behind him. "Bloody wankers!" He shook his head and lifted his gaze back to her. "I don't think they'll be easily ignored, though. Go find your friends, Elisabeth and I'll see you afterwards."

She nodded, relieved, he could see, to escape the prospect of dining in the company of the lads. He lifted her hand to his mouth in a chaste kiss, raising more whistles from the table. Then he turned to go and face the waiting pack.

He took a seat at the middle of the table grabbing an empty plate and helping himself from the trays, fried bread, sausages and baked beans.

The lads were quietly waiting, eying him, exchanging glances and looking expectantly to Tom sitting across the table from him.

Jacob kept a level appearance as he poured himself a cup of tea. Then he lifted his gaze to face the circus. Tom's eyes were twinkling amused and a grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"So, Boss," he started tentatively, clearing his voice before continuing. "I checked Elisabeth's room last night and there was no answer." He paused theatrically, raising wide grins from the rest. Jacob started eating. He knew the drill, the lads would do what they could to dishevel him, and he would do what he could to stay impassive.

Tom glanced about the table and continued.

"I was ready to raise the whole base when I told you she was gone. Imagine my surprise when you had already found her."

"Bloody efficient of you, Frye," John said in mock praise.

"E 'as a second sight that one," Charles commented.

"Was she running away again?" Liam asked, "Was that why you chose to tether her to your bed?"

Oh, bloody hell.

The lads were all smirks and cheeky grins and Jacob felt a smile threateningly tug at the corner of his mouth. He lifted the cup, taking a large gulp of the lukewarm tea to conceal it while he gathered his composure. He would not let them throw him that easily, although their efforts were unyielding, some a bit too bold he mused. He would see Liam in the ring next training session he decided, setting the teacup down, once more composed and controlled.

The lads were all chuckling by now, and Jacob wondered how much he would have to give away to make them leave the topic of Elisabeth alone. While he ate, the laughter came down again, and Tom turned serious.

"I thought you said you'd never take a Rook for lover again," he said accusingly. Jacob knew he was out to burn him, and that he was not concerned, really, however the parable was not lost on him.

Months ago, he had made a mistake. One even he acknowledged. During a night of heavy celebration after taking another Blighter stronghold, he had pursued a female Rook, a girl with golden hair who shot him hungry glances whenever he was around. Hot kisses and fervent groping in the back of the pub had led to the alley behind the bar where he had fucked her against the wall. After that, he had gone back for more, always while drinking, always in the heat of the moment, finding a vacant back room or a dark corner to satisfy a basic need. She did not mind the public places, and he found that alluring, her hunger and her liberal attitude.

Their time together had been brief. It was fun and exciting for a while, problem only was; she got the idea that being his girl should grant her a higher position within the Rooks. She pushed other under her heels, extorted and threatened to gain favours and coin. She had nearly cost him the gang. When he found out, there was uproar brewing among the Rooks and Jacob had been furious. He gave her 24 hours to get out of London. She had tried to persuade him otherwise with all her womanly charms, but the spell she held over him was already broken. She left, fuming, and he had never looked back. Tom had been there to witness it all, as Jacob swore in anger that day. He would never take another Rook to bed.

To this accusation at least, he had an answer.

He met Tom's gaze.

"Elisabeth's not a Rook," he said firmly.

He tore into his food again and chewed.

Tom bowed his head, acknowledging his statement. She was not a Rook. She had not joined them for the cause, but was kept here for her own safety. However, that didn't mean Tom was thrown off. The grin he wore widened as he lifted his gaze back up.

"That doesn't explain how she ended up in your bed, though," he said.

"Yeah, how come?"

The lads broke out in another round of chuckles and Jacob was glad Elisabeth was sitting at the other end of the hall.

The laughter died down and Greg met his gaze.

"We thought she was forbidden fruit, Boss. But evidently that didn't apply to you."

This was another issue, entirely. Greg's tone was as light as the others, but the light in his eyes bore another quality. A sharpness that had nothing to do with the other quips. He had anticipated that. Jacob cleared his voice and looked Greg straight in the eyes.

"I would have sanctioned it if she chose you," he said.

Greg's smile faltered. Smiles washed off the lads' faces in surprise.

"Wait… what?" Liam said, glancing at Jacob, then to Elisabeth across the room. "She chose you? What do you…?" His eyes flicked back to Jacob. "She came to you? Like in the middle of the night, came to your room?"

"She chose me, lads. Let's just leave it at that," Jacob said and put down his knife and fork.

"Wait… wait… was she naked?" Liam.

Jacob turned his gaze and bored his eyes into the lad, silencing him in a second, while the others hollered in laughter.

Liam was going to feel the repercussions for that last comment next trainingsession.

Elisabeth walked through the dining hall carrying a pile of dishes back down to the kitchen. She could not wait to get downstairs and escape the stares and cheeky grins of the Rooks.

The good-natured torment of her friends she could handle. The women had giggled and thrown comments as soon as she sat down at the table. Liz! You're awfully late this morning. Didn't you sleep well? Was something keeping you awake.

That was part of the normal tone amongst the girls, and she had given just as good before, as what she was receiving, now.

With the men, it was worse. Wherever she went, heads turned in her direction and she felt their gazes at her back. They meant no harm, she knew that, but her face was burning with embarrassment all the same. They were so many, and she knew barely half of them, but now they all seemed to know her.

The kitchen was as usual buzzing with activity. She put the pile of dishes down on the counter and cooled her cheeks with the back of her hand, throwing a glance about the room. There were more dishes to be collected upstairs, but for once she allowed herself to stall a couple of minutes before she went back, hoping that the men would exit, getting to the chores of the day while she waited.

As she stood there, leaning against the kitchen counter the Matron came from the cellars. She had already caught sight of Elisabeth and came walking over. Elisabeth dreaded the conversation to follow. The Matron had watched over her like a hawk, taken on the role of chaperone ever since her injury. Liz both liked it and hated it. Liked it for the genuine concern Mrs. Cutler showed, hated the feeling of being watched; being under control.

Mrs. Cutler would have wanted her to wait, make Jacob court her and then make sure there was a ring on her finger before she gave herself away. Elisabeth just could not wait that long.

She felt the Matron's eyes boring into her, and before the woman could say anything, the words lingering on her tongue slipped out:

"I'm not sorry."

Her voice came out a bit sterner than she intended. The Matron sighed and took her hand.

"Liz," she said, "I'm not going to judge you." Her eyes were earnest and filled with concern. It took Elisabeth aback. She had expected some sort of lecture, but the Matron just gave her hand a good squeeze. "I just hope you know what you're doing, lass," she said before the she turned her attention to the bustle of the kitchen.

Elisabeth walked back upstairs to the dining hall. The room was all but empty as she took a turn about the tables, collecting the last items of dishes discarded. By the door to the hallway, one of the girls, Mary, stood in the doorway talking to her fiancé. Mary was a few years older than Elisabeth, and her fiancé was one of the Rooks who had been there that day in the orphanage. Tom, his name was she recalled and realized with a jolt; he was the one who had checked her room. They were talking intimately and Elisabeth had made a point of ignoring them, letting them have a few stolen moments of privacy. However, now her eyes flicked over to the pair just to see Tom studying her with a glint in his eye, then trying to conceal the mischievous grin he gave Mary.

Elisabeth felt her cheeks heat up as she hurriedly gathered the last items and made it for the safety of the kitchen. God! She could not wait for this day to be over. Behind her, she heard Mary giggle before her footsteps followed in Elisabeth's wake.

Finally, downstairs she felt relieved. She had a ton of dishes to do, and before she were done, the men would most likely have left for the day. Then she could sneak back to her room, and maybe avoid facing another Rook the rest of the day. If she took her dinner in the kitchen, she would not have to see anyone until the next day, and by then this would hopefully, have blown over.

Elisabeth didn't take heed to the covert whispers around the room, nor the concealed smiles, until she went to fill the basin with warm water.

The large kettle on the stove was empty. For a moment, she was puzzled as she went to find the water bucket to refill the kettle. Only when she found the buckets empty did it dawn on her. They set her up.

There was always water on the heat, always fresh water kept in the kitchen. Whoever emptied a container of water were responsible for filling them back up. Someone, or more correctly all the women, by the giggles around the room, had deliberately left both empty, knowing Elisabeth would need water for the dishes.

Her shoulders dropped at the thought of going out in the yard to fetch the water.

"Go on, Liz," the Matron said. "Better get it over with."

Oh God

All the Rooks were in activity outside, making preparations for the day, packing the wagons with crates of explosives to be transported to other bases throughout the city.

She gripped the buckets and walked to the stairs, steeling her mind as she kept her head bowed low, hoping no one would notice her as she crossed the yard to fill the buckets.

It was a futile hope. She got halfway there, before the faint whistling began, and she felt their eyes turn in her direction. Activity seemed to grind to a halt around her as the Rooks settled down, leaning against the walls and sitting down all around the yard.

She drew water, feeling her cheeks burn and wondering what on earth was going on. She threw a quick glance towards the kitchen stairs and saw the women gathering there, wide smiles and giggles all around.

Something was brewing. Her hand stilled on the arm of the pump as she realized she was alone in the middle of the yard. Then all of a sudden, the few faint whistles grew into a chorus. She looked around the yard until her eyes landed on Jacob standing in the doorway, cane and top hat in hand, wearing his leather coat and the austere Assassin mask that still made her uneasy. He took one glance at the scene before him and the gleam in his eye changed before his gaze settled on her. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, rapturing into butterflies under the weight of the look. Jacob twirled the top hat once over and placed it firmly on his head, then crossed the yard in determined strides.

Elisabeth dried her hands on her skirt and straightened as he came over. Her face was burning, red hot like the mid-day sun as he collected her hands and drew her close to his chest. The whistling picked up.

"Ignore them, Love," Jacob murmured, his voice so low, only she could hear him as he tipped her chin up.

She met his gaze, the warm gleam of amusement filling his hazel eyes did little to clam the fluttering feeling inside her. The yard around them erupted into shouts and cheers.

He threw a glance around the yard.

"So this is what you want?" he yelled, his voice booming over the crowd of voices.

The crowd started chanting in reply. Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! His smile widened. Unlike her, he seemed to enjoy this, feeding off the energy of the boisterous crowd and being at the centre of attention.

Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!

He leaned close

"Nail her, Boss!" someone yelled just as his face was inches from hers, and everyone started laughing. Jacob's features twitched in a scowl.

"Bloody bastard!" he hissed against her mouth, and then pressed his lips to her.

His kiss was demanding, seductively sweet and slow and overpowering as his tongue stroke against her mouth. She parted her lips in a faint moan as his fingers tangled in her hair, cradling the base of her neck. For a few moments, the crowd seemed to disappear, her world revolving only around this man and how he made her feel; her stomach a tight coil of anticipation and her knees weak. She felt punch drunk as he let her lips go, still cradling her neck. She faintly heard the crowd jeering and applauding, but all she could feel was the racing of her heart, his forehead touching hers and his breath on her skin as she tried to collect herself. She opened her eyes to meet his warm gaze shining playfully back at her.

A slightly devilish smile lifted the corner of his mouth as his thumb stroke against her cheek.

"I love this colour on you," he said, and she knew he was thinking of their night together.

The cheering was finally dying down around them and Jacob surveyed the yard. The activity was picking up, people returning to the busy day, finally leaving them alone.

"Move your things to my room, Love," he said. "We can't have this bloody circus every day." With a peck on her forehead, he threw her another beaming smile, then walked away with all the confidence in the world in his stride.