Trusting Jack (34 page)

             
“Wouldn’t we all,” Norah said with feeling.  “I can’t believe they pushed the trial off.”

             
“Psych evaluations, competency hearings, all that bullshit,” Emma replied.  “I want to get it over with, but I don’t like the fact that I’ll have to see him in court.”

             
“Still having nightmares?”

             
“They’ve mostly gone away.  And if I do have one, Jack is right there to chase it away,” Emma smiled.

             
“Mooo,” Norah said under her breath and

laughed when Emma poked her. “Are you ready for

dinner?  How about some tasty Jell-O?” She winked.

             
“No more Jell-O, not for a million dollars.  I want sushi.”

             
Norah rolled her eyes and let Emma pull her to the door.  “Will you listen to me practice the lines I have to do tomorrow?”

             
“Sure.  After sushi.”

Chapter 45

              “I look back now, at the child bride I was.  So excited to be marrying the King of England.  And to see him, just after our marriage, to wantonly give my dowry to his lover.  It was then, at that moment, that I felt the first of many crushing disappointments.

             
“I reveled in the births of my children.  I truly loved them.  But as much as I loved them, I equally despised their father.  He was destroying me, destroying England—the birthright of my firstborn.  He was throwing it away on the whims of that filthy dog, Piers.

             
“Oh, how I rejoiced when the barons finally disposed of him!  Oh, how I wept when he was so quickly replaced by Hugh DeSpencer!”

             
“Cut.  Brilliant, just wonderful!” Thomas enthused.  “You’ve got it down pat, Norah, even if you changed some of the wording.”

             
“You like the changes then?  Emma said the flow sounded better.”  Norah removed the headphones and reached for her bottle of water.

             
“You did well,” he praised Emma.  “It sounds great.”

             
“Thank you.”  Emma flashed him a smile.  “Isn’t she fantastic?  She’s so good at getting the emotion in there.”

             
“She sure is.  We’ve got a hit on our hands; She-Wolf is going to be huge,” he replied satisfactorily.  “You ready to get the next part?” he asked Norah.

             
Emma listened, captivated by the sound of Norah’s voice as she spoke.  And when she got to the end, and let the tears come into her voice, Emma felt tears gather in her own eyes.

             
“Some condemned me for loving Roger

Mortimer, but how could I not?  He was everything

Edward wasn’t.  And he shared my greatest passion: to place my son on the throne and see him crowned Edward III, King of England.  And together, we accomplished just that.

             
“There are those who say I became drunk on power.  Looking back, I can admit it’s true.  I gloried in being strong enough, able enough, to depose a king.  And there are those who say I murdered my husband, that I ordered it done even if he didn’t die by my hand.

             
“So what if I did?  He was a fool and a coward and as long as he lived my son’s throne would never be secure.

             
“Oh, my son.  The magnificent Edward III.  And his dutiful, devoted wife Philippa.  She is his equal and even I have to admit they are ideally matched.  But I hated to give up the crown for her.  I was queen and I could have helped him become even greater.

             
“I have lived here in exile for thirty years, banished from the court I loved so much.  I lost my lover, my Mortimer.  It is the price one must pay, I suppose, for defying one king and placing another on the throne.

             
“She-Wolf?  Perhaps.  I was certainly ambitious enough, cunning enough, to be called such.  But in my mind I will always be Isabella, Queen of England.  She-Wolf be damned.”

             
“Cut!”

             
Emma stood, clapped her hands.  Norah gave a mock bow and grinned back at her.  “If I have to do that very many times, I’ll be as hoarse as you were a couple weeks ago,” she teased.

             
“Funny, funny.”

             
“I think once more, maybe twice,” Thomas

said.  “You’ve got the tone, the emotions down.  The wording is good.  I just want to see if we can make it better.”

              Norah drank deeply, put her headphones back on and started from the beginning.

***

              “You’re absolutely sure?” James asked.

             
“Absolutely.”

             
“It’s just a mighty big step, mate, buying a ring and all that.”

             
Jack chuckled and slapped him on the back.  “Yes, it is.  I’m so ready.  I know it’s right this time.  I love her.”

             
“I know, and she loves you.  You can’t help but see it.  Well, a ring it is, then.  Let’s find her a dandy.”

             
They struck out at the first jewelry store and made their way into the second.  “Tell me about your lady,” the portly, bespectacled jeweler invited.  “Does she like modern cuts or more traditional?”

             
“Traditional,” Jack told him.  “Emma values the old, the history of things.”

             
“I have just the thing, then.”  The jeweler hurried to the back and came back with a small box.  “We’ve just acquired this piece from the estate of Lady Cecily DeVane.”  He lifted the ring and continued, “It’s an emerald cut, surrounded by brilliants, set in a rose gold band.  It was Lady DeVane’s great-great grandmother’s.” 

             
He handed it to Jack, who held it reverently.  “This is it,” he said.  “This is Emma’s.”  He held it out for James’s inspection.

             
“I believe you’re right,” he agreed after studying

it.  “It’s perfect for her.  The history of it will thrill her.”

              “I’ll take it,” Jack told the jeweler.

             
“Wonderful!”  He glowed.  “I’ll include the provenance of the ring, if you think your lady would enjoy it.”

             
“She would,” he answered.  “Thank you for that.”  With a swipe of his credit card and and enthusiastic “Thank you, Mr. Brandon”, they left with the ring tucked neatly in his pocket.

             
“And when will you be asking the lovely Emma to marry us?” James asked on the drive back to Jack’s.

             
“Us?” Jack echoed.

             
“Well, yes.  You know I’ll come ‘round nightly if she cooks.”

             
Jack laughed.  “Of course.  Tomorrow night.  I’ll cook for her, and then ask.”

             
“Why wait?”

             
“We’re getting in the last of the scenes tonight.  Hopefully.  So tomorrow night it is.”

             
“Nervous?”

             
“Not a bit.”

             
“I’d be a fucking wreck,” James muttered and made Jack laugh again.

***

              “Are you certain, Mother?”  Jack paced the room, stopping before a seated Norah.

             
“You must.  As long as he lives, there will be a threat to your rule.  Edward must die.”

             
“But at my hand?”

             
“The less people privy to our plans the better.  Only you and I know you carry the cup of poisoned wine.”

             
“And Father?  If he refuses?”

             
“Then,” her voice and eyes hardened, “we end his life with the fired poker.”

             
“Cut!  Got it in one!” Thomas announced.

             
Jack sought Emma out while they were readying the set for the killing scene.  “I can’t believe this is it, that it’ll be over tonight,” she commented.

             
“I know.  It’s been a hell of a ride,” he said.  “I’d like to do something for you.”

             
“Really?  What?”

             
“I’d like to cook for you tomorrow night.”

             
Her brows rose.  “You are going to cook for me?”

             
“I am.  I make a mean shrimp linguini.”

             
“Sounds great.”

             
“My place, five o’clock?”

             
“I’ll be there.”

             
He dropped a kiss on her forehead, a longer one on her lips, and left to kill Edward II.

             
Emma watched as Roger argued, pleaded, and finally resigned himself to die.  He raised the cup to his lips, drank, and dropped to one knee.  “The king is dead,” he gasped.  “Long live the king.”  He slumped to the floor and was still.

             
“Cut!  One more time.”

             
And finally, Emma held her breath when Jack and Norah were cued for the final scene.

             
“It is finished, Mother.”  With a haunted look on his face, Jack sank to his knees and buried his head against Norah’s stomach. 

             
She ran a hand over his head in a gesture of

comfort.  “Rise, my son,” she urged him.  “You are

now truly King of England.”  She stepped back, sank

into an elegant curtsy.  “I am yours to command,

Majesty.”

             
“And cut!”  Thomas paused, then yelled, “That’s a wrap!”

             
With a whoop, Jack grabbed Norah and did an impromptu dance across the set.

             
Emma laughed delightedly.  “Well done!” she called out.  “Bravo!”

             
After rounds of hugs and handshakes, Thomas announced, “Party.  Tomorrow night, Tristan’s.  Let’s send it out in style,” he grinned, “before editing begins.”

Chapter 46

              “I’m impressed,” Emma said.  She twined pasta around her fork, took another bite.

             
“I’m glad you like it.”

             
“Not just the food,” she replied, “even though it’s delicious.  Everything.  It’s perfect.”

             
Jack had kept the lights low, added dozens of candles.  He’d scattered vases filled with roses throughout the house and their scent perfumed the air.  He had a bottle of champagne chilling and it was almost time for desert.

             
He was going to pop the question after that.  He was nervous now.  Extremely.  If she said no, he’d just die.

             
“Desert?” he asked.

             
“Of course.  What is it?”

             
“Pears poached in red wine with mascarpone on the side.”

             
She stared.  “You made that?”

             
“Well, no,” he admitted sheepishly.  “James came by and made it for me.  He snuck in the back while we were eating.”  He went to fetch it and to make sure James wasn’t lurking in the kitchen.