London, United Kingdom
August 1852

It had been weeks since Jane sent the reply to her husband, and likewise, it had been weeks since she had heard from him at all. After the first two, she started to worry that what she had said offended him and contemplated asking her father what was happening in Edinburgh. She resisted though and instead had to force herself not to think on it. Her father would tell her if something was really wrong, and given that he hadn't done that yet, she had to believe that James was alright. Perhaps he was agonizing over how to respond to her as she had done; after all, even with Lorraine's sound advice, it had taken her three whole days to compose a letter that she felt could be sent. Given their challenging relationship, it was entirely possible that he faced the same writer's block as she did.

Into the fourth week without hearing from James, however, Jane was convinced that she absolutely had said something wrong. She wished she had written a copy of her letter so she could analyze her exact words and perhaps understand what James might be thinking about them. To her own frustration though, she hadn't done that, and so she was left to search her admittedly unreliable memory. She had written so many versions of the letter itself that she just couldn't quite recall which had been the final one.

Regardless, Jane knew exactly which portion of the letter James would have had trouble with. Even though the exact wording evaded her, she knew generally that she had addressed James's proposal of being open with one another and told him that complete openness was unlikely ever to occur between them. She had known that he wouldn't like her response, but she wanted to be honest, even if that included disappointing him. Because though Jane thought herself capable of being James's friend, what he asked for seemed to hint that he wanted more than that, maybe even something romantic. But romance was not something Jane ever thought herself capable of giving him, not after he had ruined her so thoughtlessly, over and over again. Even if James did change, and even if they did become friends, Jane knew that she could never enjoy his touch in the way that a lover ought to. His hands had stained her skin with a selfishness that she saw every day of her life.

Now though, four weeks since his last letter had reached her, Jane wished that she hadn't assumed anything about James's intentions in writing to her. Maybe he didn't mean anything by his request to be open with one another; maybe he only wanted to be there for her as a friend and nothing more. If only she had allowed herself to be open with him, she might have come to find out those intentions without altogether discouraging him, as she supposed she had. It made her fear that maybe this was the reason for him taking so much time in Edinburgh. Could it be that she shattered his hope, and he, in turn, reverted back to who he had been?

Jane didn't know, but the thought terrified her. She wished that they could both just forget she had said anything and instead focus on being honest with one another in the future. Surely, the past need not play a part in it.

Thus, on one particularly rainy afternoon, Jane sat by the window in the library overlooking the garden and sought to remedy her mistake. She wasn't going to write to her father; she was going to write to James directly and recant her reticent behavior towards him. Perhaps it wasn't too late to assure him that his actions were making a difference in their relationship.

With Lorraine out of the house for most of the day, Jane sat alone for nearly two hours trying to draft an appropriate letter of encouragement to her husband. Only, when she at last set her pen down to read what she hoped would be the final draft, her seclusion was interrupted by a young maid Jane had grown rather fond of. Her name was Anna, and she often sat with Jane when there was time for it, though with the anxious look upon her face, Jane didn't suppose Anna was there to keep her company.

"Your Grace," Anna said, curtsying promptly and lifting her brown eyes to meet Jane's. She cleared her throat and said, "I, um, I have some news for you."

Puzzled by what could possibly influence the girl to be so nervous, Jane nodded in encouragement, "Go on... What's the matter?"

"Nothing, Your Grace," she answered quickly. "It's just... His Grace has returned from Scotland."

In an instant, Jane's mind went blank. Surely, she had heard the girl wrong.

"What?"

Anna glanced around the room and lowered her eyes to the floor, stating again, "Your husband, the Duke, has returned. He arrived just fifteen minutes ago with Mister Mercier; I thought someone ought to tell you."

"You're quite right," Jane said, standing instantly from her seat. Her legs ached from sitting for so long, but she ignored the feeling and instead walked towards the door. "Where are they?"

"Your father went to change out of his travelling clothes." Anna stepped out of the doorway and made room for Jane to pass through. "His Grace, I expect, went upstairs, but he did not say. I can find out and tell him you'd like to see him?"

"No, that's alright," Jane said. "I'll find him myself. Thank you for letting me know."

"Your Grace." Anna curtsied as Jane regarded her with a thankful smile then left the room in search of her husband. Frankly, Jane didn't know what she was planning on saying to him given the spontaneity of his arrival; however, she supposed she could start there. Why had he decided to come home, and why hadn't he said anything about it? More importantly, why hadn't her father? She would have thought that he, at the very least, would have tried to keep her informed.

With her mind whirling from the surprise arrival of her husband and father, Jane proceeded to the upstairs portion of their home, where the bedrooms were. She passed her own and went in the direction of James's, though eerily like weeks before, the sight of the open door to her father-in-law's old study stopped her in her tracks. To her knowledge, James hadn't been in there since the night of the assault, which prompted her to worry that maybe now was not a good time.

Subconsciously, Jane took a step back, her eyes finding the opening in the doorway and trying to catch a glimpse of what James may be doing. But she couldn't see her husband, and unlike last time, she could hardly hear him either. He wasn't yelling; there was no sound of glass shattering or picture frames being torn apart, only the sound of light footsteps calmly crossing the room.

Thus, despite the fear that plagued her subconscious, Jane carefully stepped forward and forced herself to knock lightly on the door. She peered inside as she pushed it open to reveal James kneeling by the bookshelf, where his father's ruined portrait sat leaning against the shelves. He turned at the sound of Jane entering the room, his hands instantly falling away from the frame and his light eyes widening in surprise.

"Jane," he said with a warm smile that Jane swore she had never seen before. "They said you were writing, so I didn't want to bother you."

James pushed himself from the floor and easily came to stand in front of her, looking younger than ever. His white linen shirt hung slightly open across his broad chest, revealing tan skin from time spent in the sun. His black hair was longer than when he left, slightly shaggy in the back but well tended to and swept away from his sun kissed face. He looked like someone who had just had the best sleep of his life, which Jane knew immediately never could have been said about him before. For the first time, James looked truly healthy, and observing it encouraged Jane in an instant. Scotland had been good for him in at least one way, if not more.

"I wish you had," Jane said, finding her words. "I was writing to you, but now I don't need to."

A frown overtook James's otherwise carefree expression, and his heavy brows pulled together in worry. "Why did you need to? Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm–" Jane hesitated, but figured now was as good of a time as ever to find the answers to the questions burning in her mind. "I was wondering why you never wrote back to me."

"Oh," James said, the tension falling away from his brow. "I didn't know you wanted me to."

"I did."

"Forgive me," James said quickly, forcing himself to smile. "I didn't know you would care, or else I would have."

"It's alright that you didn't," she answered him. "I just wondered if I had upset you by what I said."

James was very still for several moments, during which time, Jane could see he was trying to decide how to proceed. The hesitation told her all she needed to know though, and that was that she had more than upset him.

"Honestly?" he asked at last, his dark brows raised questioningly.

Jane nodded, "Please."

Sighing heavily and looking more fatigued than nervous, James stepped back further into his father's study and gestured towards the couch, "Do you want to sit?"

Though the prospect of a heavy conversation with James daunted her, Jane wordlessly passed in front of him and lowered herself onto the couch that faced the unlit fireplace. She watched as James sat next to her, angling himself to look upon her face. Conflict riddled his previously unbothered expression, and behind his eyes, Jane could see that what he was about to say pained him. She felt like she was the one to blame for it, and already, her heart ached with guilt. She should have never discouraged him in the way that she did, no matter what she felt about opening up to him.

"To answer your question," James said at last, "Yes, I was upset."

"Are you still?"

"Not upset," he said. "But I am sad. I thought maybe we were getting somewhere."

Jane expected him to say as much, but hearing that her words had affected him so negatively pained her. She wished nothing more than to reverse the damage she had done.

"We are though," Jane answered, trying to encourage him again. "Don't you see how far you've come?"

"Aye, but Jane, you all but told me you would never trust me, no matter what I do," James said without hesitation. It was as if he had known exactly what she intended to say to him. "What am I supposed to do with that? Friends are supposed to be able to trust one another."

"I know, I just meant..." Jane trailed off, knowing now the mistake she had made but not knowing in the least how she ought to fix it. She did believe she could trust James to an extent, but she had meant it when she said she would likely never be able to discuss with him the wrong he had done her as her husband. Why should she relive those horrible moments for him to only tell her that he was within his rights as her husband to do as he did? It didn't seem fair, and Jane knew that until he could realize his wrong on his own, there was no way she could bring it up herself. Nonetheless, she did feel that he deserved at least a partial explanation, and so she set out to rectify the discouragement she had caused and make him understand vaguely her reluctance in confiding in him.

"I just mean that there is some pain in my life that won't ever go away," Jane said, careful to reveal no hints that would force the conversation on her. "And I don't want to talk about it with you... or anyone at all really. I don't... I don't want to have to relive it. Surely, you can understand that? Don't you have things you won't speak to me about?"

"I understand, but no, there isn't. Not anymore," James answered her calmly and with certainty in his voice. "If I'm going to let the past go, I have to be comfortable talking about it, especially with you. You can ask me anything, and I will give you the answer." James looked down to his lap and shook his head, "I wish I could expect the same from you, but I know it would be different. I'm the one who hurt you, aren't I? That's why you won't talk to me."

Despite her attempts to hide her reaction, Jane couldn't help that her eyes widened and her heart rate accelerated, bringing more color to her cheeks than she would have liked. But frankly, she was too caught off guard by James's answer to worry much about it. She hadn't said much of anything, and already, it seemed that he knew exactly the motives that drove her to write to him as she did. Furthermore, it seemed that not only was he aware of her reasons, but without her giving any explanation at all, he was also understanding of why she couldn't overcome them. It was then she knew that this James that had returned to her was not the same one that had left for Scotland so many weeks ago.

James looked up at her as she was trying to process his more than understanding reply and smiled sadly, "You don't have to say anything. I know it's the truth. I took advantage of you for too long, and now there's no way you can trust me. I know–" James cleared his throat, "I know I deserve that, or worse really, but I– I can't help but hope that maybe time will change your mind."

"James..." she said instinctively, wishing he hadn't said anything more. She didn't want to talk about their life together before she knew she was pregnant, even if he was trying to make amends, but he didn't seem to hold the same opinion.

"I expect nothing from you, Jane. I mean that in every sense, but I can't give up hope that one day you'll trust me. If I did, I fear the despair would consume me."

Jane stared at her husband, too paralyzed by the shock of his blunt confession to do much else. Surely, she wasn't hearing him properly. Surely, there was no way he had come to realize his sins against her and hadn't even tried to defend himself once. Before, he would have blamed it on his drinking or the fact that it was expected of him; now, however, he was openly voicing his faults and accepting that he had forged his own circumstances to be what they were.

Furthermore, it seemed that James only wanted one thing from her, and it wasn't what she had been taught that all men want. He wanted trust, nothing more—if there was more, he hadn't gotten there yet—and given his quickness to acknowledge his past sins, Jane was almost inclined to indulge him. After all, if he could recognize on his own the things that he shouldn't have done, maybe that meant that he wouldn't come close to doing any of them again. The way James spoke was so remorseful and so passionate that Jane was at most hopeful of this possibility.

But still, regardless of his intentions, Jane knew that the nature of their station complicated things. As much as she would have liked to believe that James truly expected nothing of her, she knew that couldn't possibly be true, not with the obligations she had to him as his wife and as the Duchess of his house. He needed an heir, and if the child she carried wasn't a boy, she would have to go right back to the beginning and enter his bed. It wasn't his fault—she knew that—but even so, the reality was that one way or another, she would have to endure her pain again, and neither of them would have a choice in it. Regardless of his intentions, James simply couldn't follow through with what he was promising her.

The sentiment though, Jane supposed she could appreciate. After all, if he really hoped never to hurt her again, maybe it would be different; but the fact of the matter was: she couldn't allow herself to believe that, not with all that had happened between them. It was impossible, but Jane was sure that the only way she could ever fully trust him was if they could somehow start over and erase it all; because despite her efforts to forgive, she knew there was no way she would ever forget.

"I didn't know it meant that much to you," Jane said softly, her eyes wandering up to meet his. It was clear he wanted her to say more, but she just wasn't sure what she could reasonably promise him.

"It does," he said firmly. "It means everything to me."

Jane frowned, "I'm sorry then... I wish I could– I wish we could just start over, but I know that's easier said than done. I think I would still have trouble with certain things..."

"It was before, wasn't it? At Chatsworth? The way I..." James trailed off and shook his head, "I'm sorry... I know you probably don't want to think about that."

Silence weighed heavily upon them both, Jane as she dreaded what he might say next, and James as he encouraged himself to make the apology he should have so long ago. He knew it was his job to lead the conversation now, but he also knew that if Jane didn't wish to have it, he would have to comply.

"Regardless, I'm sorry for it," James said after some time, forcing himself to meet Jane's gaze. It was not easy to face her knowing that she saw him as the villain in her story. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I do want you to know how much I regret it all. I shouldn't have–" He stopped himself and earnestly said, "I had no right to do what I did to you."

Jane scoffed cynically, "By law, you did actually."

"The law is wrong," James said, suddenly much more heated than before. He had spent a great deal for time in Edinburgh thinking about what he would say if he and Jane ever had the chance to discuss this topic, and now that it was here, he couldn't help the way the words seemed to flow out of him, like a confession that he needed more desperately than anything else in the world. He wanted her to know that he hated himself perhaps even more than she did.

"You shouldn't have had to put up with me," he went on. "I shouldn't have used you the way I did, and I certainly shouldn't have ignored the way it was affecting you. I saw it..." James's voice faltered as Jane watched him, her pale blue eyes developing a glassy look about them. He didn't want her to cry, but even more, he didn't want to leave his confession left unsaid. She needed to know that his time in Edinburgh had changed him.

"I–I knew what I was doing, but I was too selfish to care," James admitted, though it pained him. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, let alone your trust, but Jane, I crave it with every fiber of my being. It's all I thought about while I was away, and it's why we stayed so long. I didn't– I couldn't face you knowing that I deserve for you to hate me forever."

Jane was quiet for several moments as she considered James's speech, but the tears that stung at her eyes kept her from remaining silent. His words had moved her, that much was evident, and it seemed to James that just maybe she might be seeing that he really had made an effort to change while he was away. He prayed this was the case, because frankly, he didn't know how else to show her that he was not the same man she married.

"I don't hate you anymore," Jane said to him quietly, turning her tearful eyes down to her hands. He watched as her slender fingers twisted the wedding band around the ring finger on her left hand. "I did for a long time, but I– I don't think you're that person anymore."

James couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped his lips, "That's more than I deserve."

"Maybe..." Jane suddenly looked up at him, the tears still threatening to fall from her eyes. "But it's not enough for you, is it? You want what I can't give you, and it's not trust..."

Again, the pair was afflicted by silence and the weighty feeling of Jane's words, which pulled yet another topic from the depths of their neglected grievances. Unlike the last one regarding his guilt, James had come unprepared to address what he really wanted from a relationship with Jane. He had figured it out weeks ago, but regardless, he didn't think he should fully admit it to her. Doing that would only make her think that he was trying to force her into yet another position she didn't want to be in.

"I think so," James said carefully. "But it's not what you think. It's not... it's just that I want someone to care about me. I know I don't deserve that from you, but I can't– I can't help that I want that and have wanted that for a long time."

"Even in the beginning?"

James held her gaze for several moments but shyly turned his eyes away as he answered her, revealing a part of himself that he hadn't told anyone, not even Thomas.

"I know it didn't seem like it, but yes," James explained hesitantly. "Even though I was angry about having to marry, I was jealous because I knew you loved someone else, and I, um, I guess I wanted to punish you for it... it's no excuse, I know, but deep down, I think I just wanted the person I married to care about me."

With eyes wide, Jane quickly looked away, which James supposed had to do with the mention of his jealousy. She probably thought he wasn't aware of the way she felt about his old friend Harry; that, and he was sure that if she loved him as he thought she did, it was likely that the mention of his name still had an effect on her. James didn't know what that effect might be, but still, it stung a little knowing that she would have chosen Harry over him.

"I- I don't know what to say..." Jane spoke softly, and even though she wasn't looking directly at him, James was sure that the tears in her eyes hadn't quite gone away.

"You don't have to say anything," he said earnestly, wishing only to reassure her that she didn't need to be upset. "It's not your fault. Regardless of who you preferred at the time, if I had been good to you from the start, things would have been different for us. I should have known that instead of acting like a spoiled child who breaks the fine things that are given to him and then gets upset about not having them anymore."

"Yes," she answered him, though there was a heaviness to her voice now that hadn't been there before. She sounded pained or even regretful, but James wasn't quite sure. He just hoped that whatever it was, she didn't think poorly of him for telling her of how his jealousy had influenced his actions.

"But at the same time... we were so young," Jane went on thoughtfully. "I mean, we still are, but our families were so... I don't know... I don't think anyone would have done it completely right in our circumstances."

James laughed breathily, stunned by the graciousness of her answer. Only Jane could manage to put some of his well-deserved blame elsewhere.

"You don't need to make excuses for me, Jane. I know what I did was wrong, and no circumstances could begin to justify it."

Jane smiled gratefully upon hearing his response, but turned her face away from him as she reached up to brush her fingers beneath her eyes. The tears were falling now, James realized, and suddenly, he felt terrible for being so blunt with her. He knew it wasn't good for her to be getting upset in her condition, and he wished he would have thought about that before he had so relentlessly unloaded his emotions on her. He should have asked, at least, if she thought she could handle it.

"I'm sorry," James said quickly, praying that he hadn't gone too far. "I didn't mean to upset you; it's just– I should have said all this a long time ago."

"Don't apologize for being honest with me," Jane answered and looked back at him, the glassy look in her eyes still making James wish that he had been a bit more considerate. "I– I'm glad that you've told me all of this." Smiling weakly, Jane reached out and covered James's hand with her own. "Really, James, you've come a long way, and I really appreciate how hard you've worked to get here."

Simultaneously stunned by Jane's gesture and excited by the fact that she would have been the one to reach out to him, James looked down at Jane's hand grasping his and smiled, lacing his fingers in with hers. Moments later, he met her eyes, which glistened in the dim-lighting of the small room.

"I only wish it wasn't necessary," he said softly, meaning it more than he could ever verbally express. "For your sake, I wish I didn't need to prove myself to you."

"Me too," Jane said, her troubled expression falling away as she thought of the future. "But it'll work out in the end, I think. We'll have our life and our children together, and the past won't matter anymore."

Upon hearing Jane's words, James's heart nearly stopped in his chest. There was no way she meant what she was saying to him, and evidently, he hadn't hid his disbelief as well as he thought he had.

Jane frowned, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's–" James struggled to form a coherent thought, let alone a coherent sentence. "You would want more children with me?"

Jane's expression faltered.

"I don't know," she said, pulling her hand out of his and looking away. She took a shaky deep breath. "I know you need an heir, so I just assumed we'd have to... you know... do what's expected of us."

There it was, the truth that James had come both to realize and to loath. Jane still thought he owed him something, and as much as he would have liked to use that to his advantage, he wanted nothing more than to put an end to her fear.

"Jane... I don't–"

"I don't blame you," she said quickly. "I know it's not your fault. It'll be fine. I'll just–"

James interrupted her and firmly stated, "I'm not going to do that."

"But–"

"No," James shook his head. "Forgive me for being so forward, but if I ever touch you again, it will be because you want me to, not because you feel like you have to fulfill some obligation."

"But I do have to fulfill an obligation."

"Not to me," James said, praying that she would believe him. "I meant what I said when you don't owe me anything. I don't care what's expected of us; I'm not doing that to you."

Jane frowned, still in disbelief, "But what about the title? Don't you care where it goes?"

"Yes, it'll go to some cousin," James said. He had put a lot of thought into what would happen if they had a daughter, and he was glad that he was finally getting to speak to Jane about it so openly. "I care more about your opinion of me than keeping that title in my direct line, and maybe that's reckless, but I'm not going to let some silly expectation dictate our relationship."

James looked at Jane for some indication of what she may have been thinking, but he was caught off guard by the way she leant back against the couch and let out a soft laugh. Surely, she wasn't mocking him, was she?

"What?" James asked, hoping to gain some sort of incite into Jane's mind. "That's... That's what you would want, isn't it?"

"Well, yes... it's just... are you alright? What you're saying... it's crazy."

"I'm fine," he smiled, relieved that she was pleased with his decision. Though he was disappointed that he would never have the relationship a man ought to have with his wife with Jane, he was pleased that at least it seemed like they really could be friends. "Better than fine, actually. I haven't felt this unburdened in years."

Jane smiled too, "You look well. I'm just worried; you don't sound like yourself at all."

"Good," he said. "Maybe I did something right while I was away."

"I'd say so."

"I always did know how to make an impression," he teased, though still, he was uncertain of how he ought to relate to her. They had never really joked with one another before.

Jane rolled her eyes, "Don't I know, my friends were completely obsessed with you last summer."

Laughing softly, James looked down and shook his head in amusement; that is, until he thought more about it, and his cheerful expression faltered. Had it really only been a little over a year since he and Jane were merely civil acquaintances, when her friends had so shamelessly stared at him from across the ballroom? So much had happened in that year that he could hardly wrap his head around it. After all, at that time he had been nothing more than a drunken brat with no sense of discipline or direction in life, while now he was at least on his way to becoming a man with a wife and a child on the way. He was grateful for the drastic change; however, he couldn't help but long for the chance to redo the previous summer. Maybe then he could have done things differently; maybe then he and Jane could have had the meaningful relationship he so sincerely desired.

"Jane, I–" James stumbled over his words as he realized that he hadn't the slightest clue of what he was saying. He hadn't quite thought it out so well as he would have liked to, but he supposed that Jane had a right to know what ideas her words had inspired within him. "I know you said it'd be difficult for you to start over with me," he said, "but I wonder– I wonder if you might let me try? I don't want it to be so heavy between us all the time, and I feel like starting anew is the only way to fix it."

Just as his had, Jane's smile fell away, and she quickly answered him with skepticism, "I don't know..."

"It's not what you think," he said softly, hoping that she wouldn't think he wasn't asking for too much. "My aim isn't to romance you. I just– I think if we're to be friends, like really be friends, a fresh start would be best."

"It's not that I'm opposed to it, it's just–" Jane frowned then looked down at her hand, which was placed over her rounded belly, "We have a baby on the way. How can we start over when the future of our family ties us to the past?"

"You're bringing new life into the world," James smiled, relieved that Jane hadn't flat-out denied him, but still holding his breath to hear her final answer. "Could it not also be new for us?"

Jane looked into his eyes for several moments, sitting in silence and seeming to search for the answer to some question he could hardly guess. It seemed she was judging him for his credibility, and for a moment, she finally seemed to believe him.

"I'll try," she said at last, "but don't expect anything. Will that satisfy you?"

James smiled warmly, feeling like his long journey was finally coming to an end. He had done his part to the best of his ability, and now Jane was going to try to do hers. He nodded fervently, "Much more than that. Yes, Jane, it will. Thank you."

"Okay, then..." Jane struggled to find the words, "How will this work?"

"I don't know," James said, and suddenly, he had an idea that was probably not a good one. Without waiting for her to say anything, James stood from his place on the couch and moved towards his father's old desk at the back window. The rain had stopped, but the sun still hadn't quite made it past the clouds yet, which James felt was ironic given the circumstances. He longed to see the sunshine in more ways than one.

Opening one of the desk drawers, James reached inside and drew out a flat, rectangular box that was wrapped in brown paper. It had a cream-colored satin ribbon tied around its width with a small bow sitting delicately in the middle.

"I think this might be a good start... I didn't know when I should give you this," James said, coming back around to where Jane was sitting on the couch. "I had decided to wait for your birthday, but now feels more fitting." He resumed his seat and offered the small box to her, "I know no number of gifts will change anything, but I found this in Edinburgh, and I thought you might like it."

"You didn't have to get me anything," Jane said modestly, nonetheless taking the small box in her hand. She looked up at him in surprise and laughed, "It's so heavy."

"Not too heavy, I hope." James smiled as he anxiously watched Jane untie the ribbon and let it fall to her lap. She took the paper off carefully to reveal a brown box with a lid, which she removed and set aside. Inside sat a dark blue velvet case that Jane seemed to identify instantly. She paused and looked at him as if to ask permission to open it, which he gave readily with an encouraging nod. But despite how relaxed he may have appeared, James could hardly contain his nerves as Jane's slim fingers pulled the case from its wrapping and delicately held it in her lap. He lifted his eyes to her expression just as soon as she flipped it open, revealing the fine, sapphire and diamond necklace he had bought for her.

The necklace lay neatly in the case, spread out completely to fully display the artistry of the metalwork and overall design. The chain was made up of alternating diamond and sapphire jewels, while nine pear-shaped sapphires, bordered by hundreds of tiny diamonds, hung gently from it. Truly, James thought, it was a piece of jewelry meant for his Duchess.

"Oh, James," Jane whispered, her eyes bright with excitement but her hands hesitant to touch the fine jewels before her. "You really shouldn't have... This is–"

"Too much?"

"Well, yes. Of course it is," Jane laughed nervously.

"Do you like it, though?" James asked, suddenly doubting his decision to bring out such an extravagant gift. Perhaps he should have waited after all. "I thought the sapphires would be nice with your eyes."

For the first time since opening the necklace, Jane looked away from her gift and looked up at James's hopeful expression. "It's beautiful, James," she said. "I love it."

James sat up slightly straighter. "Really?"

"Really," Jane insisted. "I can't wait to wear it."

"Do you want to try it on now?"

"Oh no," Jane said, turning her attention back down to the glittering jewels. She ran her finger along the hanging sapphires and shook her head, though it didn't quite seem like she was convinced by what she was saying. "No, that's okay. I shouldn't."

James smiled knowingly at Jane's attempt at modesty and pressed her lightheartedly, "Come on, won't you let me see it on you?"

Looking up at him with rosy cheeks and an excited expression, Jane conceded easily and offered James the box so that he could manage the clasp for her. He took it gladly and lifted it from the box as Jane repositioned herself to let him access the back of her neck. Setting the velvet case aside, James moved closer to his wife, and his heart began to race. It was the closest they had been to one another in some weeks, but he tried not to think of the dizzying effect her skin against his would have on him.

Reaching up and around Jane's slender neck, James took both ends of the necklace and gently let it fall against her breastbone. As he managed the clasp, he saw how Jane's hand flew up to touch the cold jewels resting against her throat, which pierced a hole in his momentary anxiety. She really did like it.

When James had finished, he let his hands fall to his lap, and he watched as Jane turned around to face him. She was grinning from ear to ear, and there was a brightness in her eyes that he hadn't ever seen before. It made him blush to see her so happy, because for once, he could reasonably assess that he was the reason for it.

"It doesn't really go with this dress," Jane said, looking down at the glittering mass of jewels. "But what do you think?"

"Beautiful," James smiled, looking at her somewhat wistfully. "Really beautiful."

Jane blushed heavily, but smiled at him nonetheless, murmuring a shy, "Thank you," in return. He nodded to acknowledge her, but said nothing more, because in that moment, he truly did feel happier than he had since he could remember. Jane was happy, but more than that, she was allowing him to start over with her. James didn't quite know what that would look like, but he was eager to find out. After all, without the past to drag them down, perhaps they really could be the close friends he hoped to be. Of course, there would always be a part of him that longed for more, but he knew better than to hope. Love with Jane would remain a dream, and he could only pray that one day, that dream would come true. Until then, he would delight in the second chance he had been given, and he would forever be grateful to the woman that gave it to him.

•••

Yeah, i'm crying, im so glad to have finished this chapter, because from here, we're going to speed time up a bit and reconnect with our fav Harry... only about ten chapters left i think! :)

Thanks for reading, my dudes. I hope you liked it!
kate💖