Disclaimer: 'Jack Of All Trades' is owned by Renaissance Pictures, and this fanfic is only meant as an act of
love, and not theft. Please don't sue.
THE MISSIONARY POSITION
Part 1
by Arianwen P.F. Everett
Jack Stiles had known that this was a bad idea from the moment he'd heard of it. His English partner, Emilia Rothschild, had invited a group of missionaries from both Great Britain and the United States to come to Pulau Pulau, all expenses paid for by her shipping company. Emilia had proclaimed that missionaries made excellent informants, being as they liked to stick their noses into everybody's business. They also disrupted the day to day lives of those in authority, with their constant 'suggestions' for improvements. In the interest of PR, Croque and Brogard would be forced to put up with them.
Jack had definitely seen her point, but he also knew that as her attaché and the only American on the island, it was part of his cover, to assist in the group's settlement. Which meant, that he'd be as much a target for them, as the French aggressors. He knew that even on his best behavior, these people were bound to find fault with him, religious types always did, and he'd successfully avoided them since childhood. Until now.
"So, Mr. Stiles, how is it that a man such as yourself is yet unmarried? You were an absolute genius with the children at the orphanage! My, your relating of your experience at Valley Forge had their young minds enthralled in learning, and yet you, yourself, have no home, no heirs?" Mrs. Bellsot cooed, pulling her painfully shy, 18 year old daughter, Margaret, behind her, and trying to position the girl beside their escort.
Jack struggled with his kind heart. If he said what he was thinking of saying, it would most likely encourage the older woman, but his heart went out for her suffering child. People needed to feel good about themselves, and Margaret was continually being thrown into social situations she was obviously ill prepared for. She stuttered and blushed constantly, and afterward, was berated by her mother for her shyness. How was she ever expected to get over her shyness this way? He had to throw the girl a lifeline, give her some confidence. After all, it was the Christian thing to do.
"Well, I wasn't the only one. The younger kids really responded to your daughter's reading of the bible. You read quite well Margaret," Jack praised, only to discover his good deed backfire.
The girl turned beet red, and lowered her head at the comment. "Thank... Thank You, Mr. Stiles."
Just as he'd feared, Mrs. Bellsot took his direct compliment to her daughter as interest, and began to rattle on about her child's other fine qualities. And Margaret's torment worsened.
Just when Jack thought he was completely sunk, a ray of sunshine broke through the clouds.
"Oh, there you are. I was on my way back from my meeting with the Governor on behalf of the mission, and I thought I'd meet up with you three in the village," Emilia Rothschild called out, smiling as she made her way through the brush towards the small road Jack and the Bellsots had been traveling.
"Well, it's a good thing you didn't waste a trip. Your Pulau Pulau sun can be quite taxing," Mrs. Bellsot fussed, trying to sound lighter than she felt. In truth, she had never realized the physical demands of missionary work, having spent all her life in Philadelphia.
"Yes, I noticed that when I first arrived here, as well. You simply have to get used to it," Emilia commented, her lips curling slightly at the memory of how impossible the sun had seemed to her, upon her arrival on Pulau Pulau eight years ago. She'd been Margaret's age, and newly married. Looking at the girl walking beside her, Emilia had to wonder if she would ever know the same happiness in her own life.
"So, Margaret, what do you think of Pulau Pulau?" Emilia asked gamely.
"It's very nice, Mrs. Rothschild, especially the birds. Their various plumage are lovely," Margaret offered, her voice barely a whisper.
"If you'd like, I have a book on the local aviary. You're welcome to borrow it," Emilia offered, smiling encouragingly.
"Thank you, Mrs. Rothschild. That's very kind of you. I'd love to borrow your book," Margaret said, a little louder, as she became a tiny bit more confident. These people were the friendliest she'd met, since leaving her home in the State of Pennsylvania.
"Oh Margaret, you read entirely too many books. The only book you need is the one in your bag right now, the Bible, the book of all books. Thank you, Mrs. Rothschild, but we have so much work to do here, bringing culture and piety to these pagans, my daughter just won't have time to read any new books. Now, Mr. Stiles..."
Emilia sighed, and grabbed Margaret's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Life could sometimes be so disheartening to a woman of intelligence.
A predatory glean sparked in Mrs. Bellsot's eyes, as she again grabbed her daughter's other hand, pulling her closer to Jack. Emilia remembered the same glean in her own aunt's eyes when she became of bidable age. Why society saw a woman's only future in marriage and housekeeping, God only knew. She'd been so fortunate to have met Robert, a man who understood her capabilities and strengths and could loved them in her. Emilia continued to ponder what Margaret's future held, as the party approached her estate.
"So, Mr. Stiles, where upon this lovely island, do you reside?" Mrs. Bellsot asked, as they all entered Emilia's foyer, and Emilia motioned for Jack to help the Bellsots with their teaching tools.
"Oh, I have a room in the guest quarters," Jack answered, as he and Emilia had decided to tell people when he had first arrived on Pulau Pulau. What else was he to say, 'I live in the secret laboratory behind the fake fireplace, from which we plan the downfall of French expansion.' ?
"You live here, Mr. Stiles? In Miss Rothschild's home?" Mrs. Bellsot, an unreadable expression crossing her features.
"Yes, as my attaché, it's important that Mr. Stiles be readily accessible, and since he has no family or home of his own on Pulau Pulau, I provide him with a suitable living space, " Emilia answered, curious as to where Mrs. Bellsot was going.
"Suitable? Some rats have larger nests," Jack whispered over Emilia's shoulder, earning himself a chastising elbow to the belly.
"I see. I see. Do you have any other employees residing with you, Mrs. Rothschild?" Mrs. Bellsot asked, her voice taking on a much more business like tone, and warning bells went off in Jack's mind. He looked over at Margaret and his suspicions were confirmed, as the young woman was attempting to sink into her chair, and sending him and Emilia pitying glances. He hoped Emilia would be careful with her next words.
"No, just Jack. I don't believe in making other people do my laundry or cook my meals for me. I'm healthy and strong and can do for myself. As for my shipping business, my other employees are sailors and dock workers and the like. They have their own homes or at least steady living arrangements on the island. Jack handles the odds and ends of the business, whatever I am too busy for, or can't get done myself," Emilia explained, trying to define Jack's official post to their curious guest. With her curious nature, Mrs. Bellsot really had potential as an informant. She might be an American, but nobody was perfect.
"Work, work, work. There's always more to do. Between haggling with merchants and more bookkeeping than is really healthy for two people to handle, I'm surprised I even have time to eat," Jack added, wanting to press home the point that this was all legitimate.
"If you're that unhappy, Jack..." Emilia began, not understanding why Jack chose that moment, in front of guests, to complain about his working conditions. Of course, she rarely understood any of Jack's motivations.
"No, no, not unhappy, I'm just explaining some of my many duties to Mrs. Bellsot and her daughter," Jack countered, plastering on a smile for the three women in the parlor.
"Well, this has been educational, but I'm afraid Margaret and I have to return to the mission house to help with dinner," Mrs. Bellsot replied, nodding to her daughter to follow her.
"I can't say I'm not disappointed, It's been such a pleasure having you here, Mrs. Bellsot, Margaret. I do hope we'll be seeing again soon," Emilia cooed, hoping she'd made a good impression.
"You can count on it, Mrs. Rothschild, Mr. Stiles. Go with God," Mrs. Bellsot, replied, wrapping her shawl around her shoulders to protect them from the sun.
"Jack can show you out," Emilia said, smiling at Margaret who had deflated expression on her face, as she turned to leave. Emilia could only sigh, as she watched the girl go, then sat down to wait for Jack's return. They had things to discuss. Firstly, his odder-than-usual behavior in front of the Bellsots.
When Jack returned from letting the Bellsots out, he took a deep breath and prepared for a lecture from his partner. One he got, the moment he stepped into the parlor.
"What was that? Were you trying to make me look like an overbearing slave driver to that woman, or can't you restrain yourself? " Emilia began.
"Actually, I was trying to save your reputation! Don't blame me if you had to go and screw that up!" Jack threw back at her. He hadn't realized how much Emilia's immediate negative conclusions to everything he did upset him, but now it was bubbling up inside of him, and he wasn't going to take it this time.
"'Save my reputation?' What are you talking about? If anyone has a questionable reputation on Pulau Pulau, it's you, Jack!" Emilia responded to Jack ludicrous rebuttal. Her good name was above reproach.
"You really don't get it , do you? Your morality has never been questioned by a vicious pack of Bible-Thumpers before, so you couldn't even recognize the signs of one of their interrogations. I know of what I speak! All that 'You live here, Mr. Stiles?' crap wasn't just innocent curiosity; she was trying to get us to admit to mutual bed hopping, and, depending on whether she bought my slave driver routine or not, could very well determine the future success of our mission here! Get it?!" Jack finished his tirade, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself.
Emilia was taken aback, and had to think for a moment, choose her words wisely. If Jack was right, it could spell disaster in so many ways.
"You really think, Mrs. Bellsot believes we're... together?" Emilia asked.
"If you'd seen the look on Margaret's face... Yes, I KNOW she thinks we're doing the wiggley. The question is, what are we going to do about it? She's liable to get us thrown in Brogard's houscow! And don't think he wouldn't enjoy it too!" Jack replied, hoping his partner would now realize the seriousness of the situation.
"I don't think she'd go so far as to..."
"Of course she would, Em! Open your eyes! We're living in sin; decadent orgies at the drop of a stocking; swinging from the chandeliers, and all that fun stuff! She has to put a stop to it, and she'll use every resource at her disposal, including the law!" Jack insisted, pressing home the point.
"And we'll be ruined! Or, I should say, I will! You'll be redeemed as a local stud! I'll be viewed as a... What are we going to do, Jack?!" Emilia gasped, realization dawning for the first time. Jack was right. She'd never had her honor questioned before. Perhaps having Jack live in the lab hadn't been the wisest course of action, but it was done, and now they had to deal with the fall out.
"Well, first, I'm going to the lab to pack my things. I'll move into the inn, until I can find someplace more permanent. If you need me, send Jean-Claude," Jack said, stepping into the fireplace.
"Right," Emilia confirmed. Feeling a need to do something, she left the parlor, and climbed the staircase to the second floor, heading for the linen closet. Unceremoniously dumping one basket of bed sheets into a box of extra material she had originally bought to make curtains, Emilia started filling the empty basket with towelettes and pillowcases, all the bits and pieces she knew Jack would overlook. Time was of the essence, and two heads were better than one.
She must have covered the entire house, but forty-five minutes later, Emilia had two brimming care- baskets ready for Jack to take with him to the inn. Jack emerged from the lab, not five minutes later.
"Here, I thought you could use these," Emilia said, now somehow unsure at the appropriateness of packing the baskets. Looking back on the past couple of months, she had to wonder if she and Jack had lead anyone else to the wrong conclusion about the nature of their relationship. She couldn't see how, but she hadn't seen Mrs. Bellsot's reaction coming either.
Still, Emilia began to feel slightly empty, at Jack's moving out. She'd grown used to his presence, and he often served to drive away her loneliness. Perhaps had she employed servants, a single maid even, she might not feel as alone as she felt at this moment.
Jack felt the awkward silence fall between them. "Hey, look Em. It's not like I'm leaving Pulau Pulau. I'll just be 25 minutes away. And I'll be here every morning at 11:00, 11:30 at the latest. I promise," Jack teased, watching her face light up, and being gladened by it.
"Make it 8:30 AM, AT THE LATEST, Mr. Stiles! We have another four missionaries arriving sometime tomorrow afternoon, including Minister Jacobson from Nova Scotia, who's already onboard with our work. I don't want him waiting at the docks, while you stuff your face in the marketplace, should his ship arrive early!" Emilia responded, smiling warmly, despite her haunty and detached speech.
"Ooh I love it when you get bossy, Baby!" Jack joked, spontaneously grabbing Emilia Rothschild up in a big friendly bear hug that squeezed the wind out of her.
"Yes Jack, well than tomorrow morning will find you elated beyond comprehension, as I have a whole list of errands I'll need you to run, before and after, you've collected our esteemed guests," Emilia replied, not resisting the tight embrace, but not responding in kind. She did however allow herself to rest her cheek upon Jack's strong shoulder, her face turned away from him, as her eyes closed shut for a millisecond of bliss.
It was only upon their reopening, that she pushed her partner away, gasping in shock and fear at the faces she'd seen at her window. "Brogard! And his Lieutenant! Oh God Jack, they saw us!" Emilia shouted, panic stricken, immediately followed by an insistent knocking at the front door.
"Open up, Madam Rothschild! You and Monsieur Stiles are under arrest!"