London, United Kingdom
May 1852

The day of the Prince's Ball arrived, and tension continued to run high in Devonshire House. Much to Thomas's dismay, Jane remained closed off to him despite his attempts to clear the air. She was defensive, fearful, and unwilling to discuss her marriage; and so like James, she busied herself with work so that she might avoid any more serious inquiries.
   
Even Lorraine couldn't seem to get through to Jane. It reminded her of those first few months at Chatsworth, during which time Jane was more miserable than Lorraine had ever been even when she had been married herself. Understandably, this transformation worried Lorraine, and so she shared some of her concerns with Thomas, who agreed that if things didn't improve soon, something would need to be done to help her.

Only James seemed immune to Jane's depressed composure. He hadn't seen her much since Thomas arrived, and when he did, he didn't seem to think much of her tired countenance. Women's emotions were volatile at best, much more so when they were with child. For this reason, he elected to dismiss Jane's exaggerated coldness; that is, he tried to ignore it until he no longer could.

On the night of the ball, James was waiting in the parlour to leave for the night when Jane finally joined him downstairs. He set his glass down when she passed the room he was in, then followed her towards the foyer.

"Jane," he called out to her, quickening his pace to walk by her side. At the sound of his voice, she gasped and sharply turned her head to look in his direction, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

"You scared me," she said breathlessly, looking away from him and slowing her pace to match his. It was then that James notice the odd look of Jane's skin, which seemed far paler than usual, like she had been ill. There was the artificial blush of her cheeks as well; she was unarguably wearing makeup, and that struck James as odd. It made him begin to wonder whether Jane should really be coming at all that night. He feared that maybe an encounter with her grandparents would be too much for her to handle.

Unsure of what to think about this observation, James looked away from his wife's worrying visage and mumbled a confused, "Sorry."

"It's okay," she answered. "Are you ready?"

Just then, they reached the end of the hallway, where the front doors were being held open for them, and came to stop. Or rather, James stopped and Jane followed suit, leaving only a few steps separating them.

Jane frowned as she turned to look at him standing in the doorway. "What's the matter? Have you forgotten something?"

"No," James shook his head. "No, I just– are you sure you're alright to do this? You look... exhausted."

James felt his wife's mood shift as she seemed to freeze in place, a stony look overcoming her already gloom-filled countenance. Setting her shoulders back, Jane lifted her chin and looked at him with that same, cold look she had given him countless times before.

"I'm fine. Now, let's go."

Rolling her eyes, Jane gathered her skirts and proceeded out into the night air where the carriage stood awaiting them. James watched her wearily, not knowing what to think. He could make her stay home, but then again, doing so would mean that yet again, he would have to face the Pelhams on his own. Somehow, this dread overcame his concern for Jane's health, and so James joined his wife in the carriage.

Once the door was shut on the two of them, they were enveloped by silence. Jane evidently didn't want to speak with him, and James hadn't the slightest clue as to what he should say to her. One thing he did know though was that however the night progressed, they would have to put on a united front.

"Jane?" he began cautiously, hoping that they could go over the plan one last time before arriving. Given Jane's distressed appearance, he wasn't so sure that she was actually up for what they had agreed on earlier.

With a sideways glance, Jane acknowledged him and continued to look out the window. James supposed that this glance was the only response he would receive and so continued.

"Well, I just wonder..." James cleared his throat and looked down to his gloved hands. He hated wearing gloves, but for a royal event, he knew he could not get away with neglecting them. "I just wonder how we're going to do this tonight. I mean, are you certain they will buy it?"

Jane looked over at him with heavy eyes and her mouth downturned in a hardened line. "They'll buy it if you don't look so panicked," she sighed. "I would never usually suggest this, but you might want to have a drink when we get there. You're too sober."

James couldn't say anything to that. Only the day before she had told him not to drink that night, and he had listened for fear of screwing up the plan. But now, she was criticizing him for it? It wasn't fair.

"I can never win with you," James said, frowning heavily. He almost wanted to yell at Jane for the way she looked at him, so surprised that he would dare critique her, his perfect wife.

"What are you talking about?"

He scoffed, "Nothing I do is ever good enough. You told me not to drink too much today, so I didn't, but now you're getting on to me for it? I wish, just once, you would acknowledge that I've done something right."

Jane stared at him for several moments then looked out the window, coldly adding, "When you do, I'll be sure to let you know."

James could hardly contain his anger now that Jane had disrespected him so blatantly. Of all the things he had blamed her for in the past, whether they be real or exaggerated,  none came close to the reality that he was enduring now. It was as if a demon had possessed her, and he hadn't a clue how to deal with it.

"You're not going tonight," James heard himself say, his voice stoney and full of conviction. He sounded just like his father. He hadn't meant to say it, but now that he had, he believed in the sentiment entirely. Jane could not accompany him that night. Adjusting his posture and squaring his shoulders, James cleared his throat and more confidently repeated himself. "If you're going to speak to me like that, you aren't going anywhere but straight home."

Undeterred, Jane answered him, "You can't do it without me."

James could not help but scoff. "Well, how do you expect to convince them that I'm in love with you when you're acting like this? They'll believe what they want to believe to an extent, but they aren't fools. They'll know I'm faking it if you're not at least somewhat charming."

"Don't worry," Jane told him, inclining her head towards the window as the carriage began to slow. They had arrived. "I know what I'm doing."

"Oh?"

"I do. I just hope you do."

"Me? I–"

"Hush," she said, silencing him just as the door was opened. She flashed him warning glare. "Don't forget why we're here. Now, go."

Astounded that Jane would speak to him so harshly, James froze in his seat and could hardly think of moving. She had never been so senselessly rude to him before, and so now, he was unsure of how to deal with it.

"James," she said his name harshly. "Go."

Frowning to himself, James obeyed and stepped out of the carriage before her. He was frustrated, but despite his frustration, James nonetheless turned to help Jane with the steps. It would look bad if he didn't. But as he turned, he came to face a woman that didn't at all resemble the wife he had just been speaking with. Of course, it was still Jane, but in a matter of moments, her entire countenance had transformed. With bright eyes and an enchanting smile, Jane looked at him in such a way that made him momentarily forget himself; she had never looked at him like that before.

"Thank you," Jane said lightly, taking his hand and stepping from the carriage. She waved to the people standing just ahead of them by the entrance and easily slid her hand around James's bicep. He just stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Let's go in," she encouraged him. "Your friends will want to see you."

And so James allowed his wife to lead them forward and into the palace, where he was faced with a whole host of people who he knew but had nothing to say to. It wasn't that he didn't like them; it was just that he was too stunned by his wife's performance to say much at all. He didn't understand how someone could so drastically change their composure in so short of a time, and it made him wonder how often she had put on an act to deceive him. It was then that James realized he didn't know his wife at all, not really, and that didn't sit well with him whatsoever.

Meanwhile, Harry stood in his room at the tavern he was staying in and looked at himself in the mirror one last time before leaving. His suit was new, fit to appear at the king's court without drawing a judgemental eye, but not extravagant enough to merit a compliment. He ran his fingers along the finely hemmed edge of his black waistcoat, eyeing the buttons that lined his white vest, once again checking to make sure that he hadn't missed one.

Sweat beaded along Harry's hairline as a result of his accelerated heart rate. Frowning, he took his hand through his cropped hair to rid himself of the sweat, but he could feel that the action didn't do much in his favor; he was just too anxious. Tilting his face one last time in the mirror and observing the clean lines of his trimmed beard, Harry sighed and turned on his heel. There was no use staring anymore. He couldn't change anything, and if he didn't leave soon, he would miss the opportunity to get Jane on her own.

Snatching up the glass on the nightstand, Harry poured himself another drink and quickly downed it in hopes that the alcohol might do something to soothe his nerves. The first one had worked some, and now this last one would give him the confidence and clear head space he needed to accomplish his task. He hadn't a clue what he was going to do to get Jane alone, nor did he have any idea what he was going to say to her, but Harry did know one thing: he loved her, and if she still wanted him, he would gladly break any rules to have a life with her. It wasn't terribly well-thought-out, but regardless, Harry believed that it would be enough. Jane would want to come with him; he just knew it.

Within the hour, Harry arrived at Buckingham Palace and managed to slip in unnoticed when a rather large party made their entrance just before him. He blended in amongst them and slipped into the larger crowd, picking up a glass of champagne on his way to the edge of the grand ballroom. Once he settled there, Harry was at last able to breathe and take in the room about him.

With extraordinarily high ceilings and electric lighting, the ballroom of Buckingham Palace seemed itself a golden gallery of artistry. Massive paintings hung high between each of the glass windows, which reflected the light of twinkling crystal chandeliers and cast a warm glow over the crowd of well-dressed nobility. Men and women stood at all corners of the large ballroom, watching as those other couples danced in the middle of the room. The band played a lively waltz, and people gently chattered on as they greeted their newly-arrived friends and acquaintances, all of whom were more finely dressed than even Harry had ever seen.

But despite the mass of fine silks, lace, and linen, Harry's eyes were seized by none of it; all he could think was to look for Jane, and nothing could distract him from finding her beaming face once again. As Harry searched the room, he sipped his champagne and felt himself beginning to relax, if only just a little bit. He felt warm now, and the glowing atmosphere around him only enhanced the sensation, so much so that he almost wished he could rid himself of his waistcoat for how warm he felt. He pressed the back of his hand against his cheek in an effort to cool his burning skin, but it was no use. There were simply too many people in the room, and the alcohol most certainly didn't do much to help. But Harry didn't think of that.

Two glasses of champagne later, and there was still no sign of Jane. Draining the last of the golden liquid in his glass, Harry once again set to scanning the room in the same way he had for the last half hour, starting in the back left corner then working his way forward until he was sure he had seen every face, none of which belonged to Jane.

Sighing in defeat, Harry decided that maybe another view would serve him better, and so he began to inch his way around the edge of the room. As he did so, he exchanged his empty champagne glass for a full one, then comfortably situated himself at the far end of the ballroom, praying that by some miracle, Jane might suddenly emerge from the great throng of guests and reveal herself to him. Harry was left disappointed.

Another ten minutes passed, and Harry began to grow impatient and discouraged. If Jane were coming, she would be there already, and he would have surely seen her, if only for a moment. Perhaps he had been wrong; perhaps she hadn't meant to come at all. But no, Harry told himself. If she weren't attending, Thomas would have told him. Jane was there. She had to be.

Finishing off his third glass of champagne, Harry once again surveyed the ballroom of Buckingham Palace, only this time, when he thought that all hope was lost, his eyes fell upon a woman standing not even twenty feet away from him. Her back was to him, but there was a moment when he glimpsed her profile; though the moment went just about as quickly as it had come to him, it was all the time Harry needed to know that the woman standing there wasn't just any woman.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, and his chest tightened as he watched her, forgetting altogether his intentions in coming there at all. Now that she was standing so close to him, he didn't know what to do, much less what he would say if he was lucky enough to speak with her. This uncertainty unnerved him more than he had anticipated. As Harry began to panic, he felt the effects of all the alcohol he had consumed come crashing down over him. His head started pounding, his nerves fanned the flame of his already overheated skin, and for the life of him, he couldn't seem to make his feet move the way he wanted them to.

Wiping his sweaty palms against his thighs, Harry uncertainly stepped to the side, hoping to get a better view of the woman he had been dreaming of for the last five months. He saw her head tilt back as if she was laughing, and that only seemed to make his mission more urgent. He could just imagine her sweet laughter rising above the low rumble of the crowd, but to imagine it wasn't enough. With every fiber of his being, Harry longed to hear her laughing in that moment, or at least to see the smile on her lips as she did it. That, he convinced himself, would be enough.

Still clinging to the edge of the room, Harry maneuvered his way to a place that allowed him to see the entirety of Jane's bright smile, and once he managed it, time stood still. A haze washed over him as he stared silently ahead, watching as the love of his life laughed alongside faces that seemed to disappear the moment his eyes found hers. Her smile was just as he remembered it, quiet yet entirely unreserved. When Jane smiled, it wasn't just the physical act of upturning the corners of her lips; it was something that revealed the unchanging beauty of her features and of her soul. It was a rare type of joy that Harry had noticed more than a year ago when he had seen her for the first time, and like that first time, Harry found himself breathlessly enamored by it.

Harry stood back to watch and take in the beauty of the woman he had lost, feeling like, for the first time since she had left him at the train station all those months ago, hope wasn't entirely gone. Jane was so close he could almost touch her, and that closeness was all Harry needed to feel like his life was worth something again.

But as the moments passed and Harry began to fully comprehend that Jane really was there in front of him, he also began to observe her surroundings. Faces slowly came back into view, and as they did, Harry felt the brief respite Jane's beaming smile had given him suddenly ripped away. How he hadn't noticed immediately, Harry didn't know, but that didn't matter now; what he saw changed everything.

Harry had thought it impossible that Jane should ever be happy with James Hale, but now that he saw them standing beside one another, he wasn't so sure anymore. The smile that Jane wore, Harry realized, was not meant for him, nor even the crowd of people surrounding her; it was meant for James, and he returned it with one that Harry hadn't seen him wear since he was a young boy. The smile that James wore was true, and as far as he could tell, so was Jane's.

But no, Harry thought to himself. It was all wrong. Jane was supposed to miserable with James, and Harry was meant to offer her an escape from her life with him. But looking at her now, with her right hand tightly grasping James's bicep and her light eyes gleaming in the evening light, Harry began to doubt himself. After all these months, he hadn't actually considered the possibility of her being happy with James, but now it seemed that the evidence required him to.

Staggering backwards until his back hit the wall, Harry tore his eyes away from Jane and her husband. He shook his head in disbelief and laughed to himself; he shouldn't have had so much champagne. That's all this was, Harry told himself. He had just had too many drinks, and now his eyes were playing tricks on him. He just needed to clear his head and refocus his eyes, then he would be able to see things as they truly were.

Comforted by this thought, Harry reopened his eyes and once again found Jane standing across the room. But where he had hoped to find comfort, Harry found only more disappointment. As he observed Jane a second time, Harry realized that not only was she still smiling at James, but just as Thomas had told him, Harry realized that she really was pregnant with James's child. Because of the design of her dress, Harry hadn't noticed at first, but now, he could see clearly that Jane had physically changed a great deal since he had seen her last. Harry's heart ached as she reached up and placed her hand over her belly, thinking to himself that the man by her side didn't deserve what she was giving him. It should have been his child, Harry thought, fighting tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. But now the possibility of that happening was gone entirely, and quite frankly, the finality of it was something that Harry had not prepared himself for.

With his sinuses burning and his eyes blurred with unwanted tears, Harry bowed his head and decided to leave. There wasn't anything left for him there in that room; seeing Jane had solidified that. Once again clinging to the wall of the ballroom, Harry kept his head down and made his way to the door. When he reached the outside, Harry was assaulted by a harsh wind that surprised him, the last lingering gale of winter. He gasped and quickly found himself leaning up against the exterior wall of the palace, eyes turned up to the sky and hands flat against the wall that supported him. With his heart pounding relentlessly in his ears, he tried his best to slow his breathing, but to no avail. What Harry had just witnessed changed everything, and he was no closer to accepting it now than he had been the moment he saw Jane's affectionate gaze falling upon his enemy.

Several moments later, Harry realized that despite his efforts to prevent them, the tears that had gathered in his eyes were no longer restrained by his lash line. He didn't know when he had started to cry, but he did know that he was not likely to stop himself any time soon. Hot tears wet his cheeks, but he was too distraught to wipe them away now. What did it matter who saw him?

Squeezing his eyes shut and bowing his head, Harry quietly lowered himself to the ground and pulled his knees to his chest. Jane had broken his heart wide open, and he hadn't the slightest clue of what he was supposed to do now. It had always been about her, but now that she wasn't even an option, Harry was lost. Outside of Jane, he had no life, no desires or ambitions. His future looked just as empty as the dark night in front of him, and as far as he could see, there was no light to follow to the other side. It was over for real this time.

•••

So sorry that took so long, my dude's... finals kicked my ass, then I've been working overtime since I got home for winter break😓

On another note, can we just talk about Fine Line??? An Absolute masterpiece. My friend and I flew to LA for the Forum show, and when I say I cried y'all.... ugh.. what's y'all's favorite song on the album??? I really love To Be So Lonely and Canyon Moon, but the whole album is fire so really, do I have a real fav??

Anyways, thanks for reading and for waiting on me! I love y'all!! And merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!! I hope your holiday was wonderful💖
-kate💖