London, United Kingdom
August 1851

Jane Pelham read and reread the piece of parchment in front of her, entirely convinced that she had made some mistake the first time around. Surely, her grandmother was not so cruel. As she finished scanning the last few names of the guest list, her eyes darted up to the window where her maid stood, staring out at the grounds of their London apartment.

"Alice, are you sure there wasn't another page?" Jane inquired earnestly, standing from her couch and walking towards the girl by the window. Alice's concentrated gaze shifted from the enchanting scenery behind the glass and fixed her attention on her young mistress.

"Yes, ma'am. The duchess made it clear that this was the final guest list," Alice replied, confirming Jane's fears to be true. Her grandmother had purposefully excluded Harry from her birthday celebration without even consulting her.

Is it not my birthday? Shouldn't I get to choose who attends? Jane wondered to herself, silently configuring a plan of action to undo her grandmother's less-than-civil actions towards a man who had done her no harm.

Biting down on the inside of her cheek, Jane huffed and walked over to her writing desk. Without even sitting down, she took the pen from the ink pot and began writing in her pretty, delicate hand. With a sigh of contentment, Jane placed the pen back on the table and took the papers in her hands again. Blowing gently on the wet ink, Jane looked towards Alice and saw that the maid looked fearful. She must have been afraid of how Regina would take it out on her when she saw the new and improved list.

Not wishing to drag Alice into the conflict between she and her grandmother, Jane smiled encouragingly, "I'll deliver it myself."

Alice's alarmed expression seemed to flood with relief, but she nonetheless protested to fulfill her obligation as a servant, "Are you certain? It would be no trouble for me to take it."

Jane could see that the girl was trembling, and had Jane been in this situation months ago, she probably would not have even dared to add Harry's name to the list. However, things had changed for Jane during the summer of 1851. She had become more confident than she used to be, more willing to act on her own desires than to always fall in line with what her grandmother told her. Though her acts of rebellion were small, Jane longed for the small tastes of freedom she received when she found loopholes in the plans set before her.

Whether it be simply leaving her grandparents' side at a ball to converse with a certain young man or ordering dresses that were made for a woman rather than a young girl, Jane constantly exercised her ability to pry her way under her grandmother's unusually well-maintained skin. It hadn't just been a thing of the summer, though; for months prior to the Pelham's transition to London, Jane had been slowly coming to realize how imprisoned she felt. For her whole life, every aspect had been engineered and controlled by her grandmother, and she had slowly began to awaken to that fact after the moment she turned seventeen.

The talk of marriage in her life became less of a hypothetical event and instead turned into a certainty from which there was no escape. Jane knew her grandmother's design in having her dance with James Hale at every ball, and she could see these intentions confirmed by the gentleman as well. James hovered over her like a hawk stalking its prey, though the way he looked at her was not the way a girl might want to be looked at. She should have felt flattered or at least somewhat pleased by his attention, but she found that his suave intensity was too intimidating for her to even try to get to know him. Jane tried to give him a chance for his sake, but she found that every encounter with him left her feeling more and more discouraged about the arrangement. She needed to speak with her grandfather to voice her objections soon, lest the plans be made without her input.

Maybe it was her inevitable marriage, or maybe it was simply the fact that she found herself feeling less and less in control of her life, that inspired Jane to push the bounds of her grandmother's reign. Jane had made it her mission during the first weeks of the summer, and this invitation to Harold Sinclair would be the perfect way to directly challenge her warden. Thus, with a proud smile on her face, Jane left her maid alone in the spacious bedroom and began to search for her grandmother.

As she supposed she would be, Jane found Regina in her sitting room, practicing her needlework diligently by the open window. Her long, spidery fingers maneuvered expertly using the needle and thread, never once sticking herself or making an error in her placement. The stitches were tight and uniform, just like her neatly arranged black hair that sat atop her head.

Not looking up from her tedious work, Regina addressed her granddaughter curtly, "I assume you have come to argue with me."

Jane rolled her eyes and made her way into the room, her step sure and direct, "No, Ma'am. I am just returning the guest list."

Despite the politeness of her tone and the pleasantness of her expression, Jane was furious. Aside from Bess, Harry was one of her closest acquaintances in London even though they had only met a few times. She loved how she felt around him, and she loved even more that she could be herself when in his presence. Jane could not explain why Harry seemed to bring out the side of her that no one knew, but it excited her nonetheless and she longed to spend more time with him.

And though she hated thinking of James, her friendly relationship with Harry made her wonder if she and James could ever have something similar. Then she would think of Harry's handsome face and her wondering would come to an end. Any relationship she might have with James would never be as easy as the one she and Harry shared.

Thus, Jane felt that she had been wronged when the guest list for her birthday celebration was brought to her with no mention of her dear friend Harry. She wouldn't know most of the people there to begin with, so for one of her few close companions to be excluded, Jane believed it was a slight against her that could not go ignored.

At Jane's unexpectedly civil reply, Regina raised her dark eyes to rest on the girl in front of her, searching her youthful face for any hint that might reveal her intentions. Finding that Jane looked positively innocent as she always did, Regina smiled contently at her own success.

"Wonderful," Regina grinned slyly, placing her needlework down on the table beside her and rising from her seat. She took long, graceful steps to meet her granddaughter in the middle of the room, reaching out for the papers and eyeing the girl expectantly.

Jane smiled innocently, handing the list to the tall, controlling woman before her, and turned to leave the room. She had not gone three steps before Regina's frustrated voice penetrated the otherwise peaceful air between them.

"Do not leave this room, young lady." Regina scowled as Jane turned around, her pleasant countenance never flickering for even a moment. If someone was going to break today, Jane intended for it to be her grandmother. Regina had taught Jane to master her expressions and her mannerisms, and as such, Jane was determined to put her perfected skill to good use.

"Is there something the matter?" Jane asked, taking pleasure in the aggravated demeanor her grandmother now wore. Her plan was already working.

Regina's eyes widened at the girl's defiance as she took an imposing step forward, "Your rebellion will no longer be tolerated." Despite Regina's harshness, Jane remained unfazed and unafraid. There was nothing that could surprise her anymore; she had experienced every bit of her grandmother's wrath already.

Jane looked at the woman curiously, feigning ignorance to the obvious alteration of the guest list, "To what might you be referring?"

Regina's shocked expression melted away abruptly, and an intimidating glare infiltrated her eyes, "Harold Sinclair will not be attending an event in this house. Since you cannot seem to keep from showing yourself to be a ridiculous flirt when in his presence, it is best that he not be here to tempt you."

Anger flashed in Jane's clear blue eyes, but she remained stone-faced as she contemplated the words just spoken to her. What did it matter if she spoke to young men? Harry was not the only gentleman with whom she conversed, so surely, if Regina meant to keep her from her supposedly flirtatious habits, she would have excluded all the men altogether. But Harry was the only one of them to be excluded, so why did Regina see Harry as any different than the others?

"I am not a flirt," Jane countered calmly, breathing deeply to soothe her erratically beating heart. "I am polite and engaging just like you taught me to be. I don't see what the problem is."

Regina scoffed, her dark eyes holding a look of amusement about them, "Of course you don't see the problem. You're too naïve to see the reality of your situation. Surely, you realize that behaving in the way you have been these last months reflects badly on your grandfather and I, and that's not even the worst of it. Your continued flirtation with Harold Sinclair is an embarrassment to your betrothed."

Jane knew exactly what that meant. It meant that her fears were no longer hypothetical; it meant that they were real and they had snuck up on her while she wasn't looking. She had been ensnared in a trap that was surely the result of Regina's scheming. Her childish game of rebellion was over, and Jane knew it.

When the words left her mouth, Regina eyed her granddaughter expectantly, patiently awaiting the moment when the little girl would begin her immature fits of protest. She could see the distress infiltrating Jane's delicate features, and she smirked as the seconds passed in silence, each one further confirming her undisputed victory.

But to Regina's disappointment, Jane did not put up a fight. She simply nodded and asked to be excused. Confused by the girl's lack of response to the reality of her new marital status, Regina consented and watched as Jane left the room, her steps just as confident as they had been upon her entrance.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Jane began walking quickly to her room. It felt as if her heart was beating a thousand beats a minute as she ran up the stairs. With every step, she felt the rage within her chest burn hotter, and she knew that it would only be a matter of time before the tears of anger that had infiltrated her eyes would fall ceaselessly down her face. She couldn't marry James. She simply couldn't.

Reaching her bedroom at last, Jane shut her door and leaned her back against it, her chest rising and falling heavily as she tried to control her erratic breathing. When this proved to be impossible, Jane sunk to the ground, allowing the tears to spill from her eyes. Her body shook with sobs as she pulled her knees to her chest and bowed her head forward to rest against her forearms. Jane was sick to her stomach with how angry and betrayed she felt, and could barely catch a breath before the next fit of sobs ravaged her.

Jane had obviously known the intentions of both James and her grandmother, but she never dreamed that this matter would have been settled without her consultation. She had known that her grandmother would do such a thing, but she had believed that her dear, kind grandfather would have at least presented the idea to her first, rather than just planning the whole thing whilst leaving her in the dark.

Jane could not think straight during the time she sat there crying on the floor; all she could do was focus on how her entire life had just been decided for her in an instant. She was damned to be the wife of a man who did not care for her in the ways he ought, and she feared the day when he would come into her with the intent to produce an heir. She knew how marriages like this worked, and she feared it now more than ever.

Jane had allowed herself to believe in the concept of love, and even a marriage based on love. But all in a moment, that ideal had been ripped from her and she had been condemned to face her fears much sooner than she had anticipated. She supposed it was her own fault for assuming she still had time, but still, the blow of her future reality hit her with more force than she ever expected.

After nearly half an hour of senseless weeping, Jane's eyes began to dry and she found herself capable of breathing somewhat normally. She felt hollow inside as she sat there on the floor, dejected and alone. She felt as if her confidence had been ripped from her, stolen like her freedom had been.

As she sat replaying her grandmother's words in her head, Jane realized that there might be one way to really show her that she would not be controlled. This marriage would not be official until it was consummated in the marriage bed, so though her chances of success were slim, Jane permitted herself to hope in the fact that if she rebelled openly to her grandfather, then he might release her from her obligations.

Standing shakily from the floor, Jane walked to her writing desk and began to write letter to one Harold Sinclair.

***

Ohhh snap, yall. What do yall think the letter says???

Thanks again for reading!! Please vote if you can! :)
-kate🖤