Bea felt a pang of guilt as she watched him devour the bread, for not being able to come sooner. She remembered well her own desperate trip from Uprya to Arcadia and she knew well the feeling…and better, still, from her father who was given to enforcing a fast until his daughter could learn to hold their tongues, and other such niceties. It was a lesson she’d never learned, but then her sisters had taken to sneaking her food, as well. Glancing at her hands, Bea smiled softly as she sank into a seat nearby.
“I can bring you some more, as well, if you’d like,” she assured him. “Most of the house is asleep, now, so there’s little fear of being caught.” There was still some, of course, there would always be some, but Bea wasn’t worried. She knew well enough she could easily handle anything of the sort that was hurled her way.
As he commented on Victor, Bea smiled softly, nodding. “It’s not so bad, actually,” she said, quickly. More and more, she was beginning to think it wasn’t bad, at all. “He’s very kind.” It was something that could not be said for her father and it was also not something that could be said of his dear friend, Vardon. There had been a time when, given Victor’s association both with him and her father, Bea had assumed he was as awful as the others. In truth, she had married him with this assumption…even despite the fond moments they’d occasionally shared before their marriage, she had assumed that after it, after he had acquired her, she would fade into a sort of trophy or possession for him. That hadn’t transpired. If anything…if anything, it had only improved. If anything, maybe she too…maybe…Bea licked her lips.
“Well enough,” she replied, knowing that this stranger was not, in fact, interested in her love life. “As Mrs. Crandon, I’ve entrée into all of Vardon’s circles.” She nodded. “It serves us very well.” She bit her lip. “What of the two of you?” she asked, glancing towards Vera. “How progress your travels?” In truth, Bea had been a mite astonished to see the two of them together. In retrospect, she didn’t know just what she’d expected from Jack, but when she’d met him, she realized he wasn’t what she’d anticipated. There was something quite jarring in the contrast between him and Vera. It was a source of some small amusement, in truth, to Bea but she doubted either of them were quite so lighthearted about it. She also knew that they had quite recently run into a great deal of trouble, hence her own involvement. Her curiosity, for all of these reasons, was very genuine. She grinned, brightly but teasing, “Has Vera put you through your paces, yet?”
“Anything you can spare … is much appreciated.” Jack said. He was starved and while this food would do well for now, they didn’t have anything for later. They didn’t have anything for the journey homeward. It would be too dangerous to stop and buy more. He didn’t know when they were planning on leaving (Jack would want to stay as long as possible - it wasn’t everyday you could casually draw information from a spy - but Vera would want to be back to the South as quickly as they were able. They may even sneak away later tonight, if Vera thought they could).
“That right?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected her to say that about Victor Crandon. It surprised him enough to stop chewing for a moment. “Never thought someone so close to Vardon could be described as kind.” He commented, going back to eating. “Learn something new everyday, I guess.”
Most people these days weren’t. Kindness wasn’t something you learned when you were trying to survive. Kindness is what would have gotten you killed. And it still does, he thought. What sort of reward would Victor’s kindness towards her secure him in this? Nothing but betrayal. Jack wasn’t the only person who would screw over those who had been good to him for a better future. The only difference, as he saw it, between himself and Beatrice was that they just had a slightly different idea of what that meant: she wanted Vardon dead and gone; he only wanted to have enough money to live comfortably.
“So did you marry him because he was nice to you? Or for the information? Or was it somewhere in the middle?”
He shook his head when Beatrice brought up Vera, “She’s certainly tried. I just may be a hopeless cause,” He laugh. “Hey, you two have been friends for a long time? Tell me, what was she like as a kid? Was she as obsessed with only dining with silver and sitting on seats with cushions then as she is now?” He supposed, as he asked, that those were common luxuries she never had to go without. And, most likely, never thought she would have time until she ended up with him.
