Edinburgh, United Kingdom
July 1852

Thomas was not at all pleased to be back in Edinburgh, and his displeasure was only intensified by the man who accompanied him. While he had gotten to know James better in the last few weeks working alongside him, what Thomas saw did not endear him to his good opinion. He could appreciate James's efforts to provide for and serve Jane; however, the fact that such extreme efforts were necessary in the first place was not encouraging. Nonetheless, Thomas had promised Jane that he would help James where he needed it, and so he intended to fulfill that promise for her sake, even if James was being difficult.

There was a room in Thomas's Edinburgh apartment that overlooked the street below, and there he had a chair in which he liked to sit to read. The natural light was easy on his eyes, and the warm summer breeze that drifted through the open window put his restless mind at ease. It was a great change since he and Harry had last been there, one that he was exceedingly grateful for. He wasn't so sure he could endure another winter spent cooped up in that place.

Thomas was reading by the window in this room when he was rather rudely interrupted by none other than his own travelling partner. James stormed into Thomas's peaceful atmosphere with so much speed and purpose that Thomas knew instantly something was terribly wrong, and judging by the piece of used parchment in James's hand, he had an idea that it had to do with Jane.

"What more can I do for her, Thomas?" James exclaimed, pacing angrily into the room. "I thought I was being good, but she's decided that nothing I do will ever be enough!"

Thomas looked up from his book and observed his distressed son-in-law, who, other than the wild look in his icy blue eyes, appeared to be in good health. He didn't look anything like the man he had met in the train station all those weeks before, what with his tanned skin and kempt hair, but Thomas knew better than to think that James's improved health meant that his mind too had managed to heal completely from the years of substance abuse. He was sure that whatever James was so worked up about was an overreaction and that he just needed someone else to point it out to him.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas asked his son-in-law. His tone reflected clearly his disinterest in hearing James's complaint, but he nonetheless adjusted his posture to face his guest. He hoped that whatever this conversation was about would spark something in James that would incline him to end their little trip sooner rather than later.

"It's Jane," James said coldly, holding up the letter she had sent him. "She doesn't trust me, and apparently, she never intends to."

Thomas shook his head for the sake of helping James to calm down, "I'm sure that's not true."

"It is! I wrote to her like you said and talked about being open with her, but when she wrote back, she all but threw it back in my face." James scoffed and began pacing in front of Thomas's seat by the window. "I just don't understand what she wants from me! How can she expect me to change when she never planned on trusting me to begin with?"

"As I understand, it was your choice to change," Thomas said, watching James with a bored expression. He was throwing a fit for having to deal with the consequences of his actions, and Thomas didn't plan on letting him do so for too long. "She doesn't need to give you anything for you to do what you should have been doing all along."

"But she said she would try, and that was a lie."

"Careful," Thomas warned. "I don't know what's going on between you two, but I do know that you shouldn't be the one calling her a liar."

James halted in his pacing, and suddenly, his angry disposition evened out. "She's not a liar," he said earnestly, much to Thomas's surprise. "I know that, and I wouldn't dare suggest that she is. She just hasn't been honest about her intentions with me."

"How so?"

James looked down to the letter in his hands and ran his forefinger along the edge, apparently contemplating how he intended to go about this conversation. He was much calmer now than he had been when he first entered the room, which, as it happened, inclined Thomas to listen to what he had to say far more than before. No man ever thought rationally when he was yelling.

"Well... When she told me I needed to change, she said she would try to forgive me for–" James shook his head and started again, "It doesn't matter what it was for. She just said she would try to forgive me, but now... in this letter, she said that there are things that she'll never trust me with. How– Trust is a part of forgiveness, isn't it? How can she say she's trying to forgive me when she has no intentions of trusting me? I understand if she needs time, but I don't think time is what she's asking for."

Once again, Thomas found himself in a state of shock. For one, the way James spoke to him was more candid and unreserved than ever before. Their conversations typically had more to do with James himself and what he was trying to accomplish, but this one was so much more focused on his relationship with Jane that Thomas hardly knew what to say. Neither James nor Jane ever really spoke to him about the details of their relationship, so this was new territory for him. It was important that he fulfill his obligations as Jane's father while at the same time really trying to hear James's side of things, even if he wasn't particularly interested in it. For Jane's sake, he had to give James advice that would benefit them both.

The other reason Thomas found himself somewhat stunned into silence was the rationality of James's words. While Thomas disagreed with him on whether trust was a part of forgiveness, he could understand why he would join the two together and why he so longed to receive both from Jane. It encouraged Thomas that James should be so emotionally invested in finding his daughter's good favor. While he would much rather see James away and out of her life forever, there was something noble about his willingness to cast aside his own character and repair their relationship. There are many men that would not even attempt such a thing, let alone follow through with it in the ways that James had. It was for this reason also that Thomas knew not what to say to James's distress.

Because what if what James told him was true? What if, despite James's efforts, Jane had no intention of enjoying the kind of relationship that James wanted? But how could he blame her and encourage James to persevere? There are things that no woman should have to forgive, and Thomas knew and had known for some time: James was asking her to do just that.

"Well?" James pressed on, standing before Thomas in expectation. "What have you to say? I am right, aren't I?"

"I don't know that you are," Thomas answered carefully. He remained seated in his chair. "She may find it in herself to forgive you, but you have to see why she doesn't owe you her trust."

"Of course I do. I've wronged her more terribly than anyone in this world ever has; I know she owes me nothing."

Thomas could hardly keep his eyes from widening upon hearing James's blunt reply, for again, he couldn't remember a time when he had ever spoken so freely of his own faults.

"Then surely you understand why she's hesitant to trust you?"

James groaned, "Yes, I know why she hesitates. What I don't understand is why she tells me now that I can never earn it." Shaking his head, James once again looked down to the letter in his hands and read, "There are things I won't ever be comfortable discussing with you, and it's only fair that you know that now. I am trying my best to forgive, and I intend to continue doing so, but I can't destroy every wall I've built to keep myself sane. I hope you can understand."

James looked up to Thomas, now looking for guidance after hearing Jane's words. He looked lost and in deep anguish over the thought of not being enough for the one person he so desperately longed to please, for Thomas could see plainly in James's tense expression that Jane's words were tearing him apart, and his hope with it.

"Why does she say this to me?" he asked softly, broken and defeated by the consequences of his past. "What can I do to show her she no longer needs the walls to shield herself from me? What can I do to show her..."

James trailed off, and finally, Thomas saw something in his son-in-law that he hadn't seen before. It wasn't regret or even guilt—the pain in his expressive blue eyes reflected much more than that. It was sorrow, Thomas knew, sorrow for the girl he had forced to become a woman and for the future he had so foolishly destroyed with his words and, as Thomas suspected, with his body as well. He truthfully didn't know if there was anything that could be done; nonetheless, he had to encourage him.

"She needs time," Thomas answered him. "Be good to her; be her friend and confidant as far as she lets you, and eventually, some walls will fall."

Thomas knew without a doubt that there was more he needed to say—and it was perhaps the most important part of it all—but it angered him to think of far more than it made him feel awkward. He forced himself to cast off the anger though, and sighing heavily, he brought up the one topic he had only ever guessed at but never wanted to know.

"There are some wrongs, however, I fear cannot be remedied," Thomas said cautiously to his son-in-law, watching in sadness as the already sorrowful expression upon James's brow deepened. "Forgive me for overstepping, James, but I know you forced yourself on her. I know you took her against her will. The child she carries is evidence enough." James opened his mouth to say something, but Thomas held up his hand to silence him. "No, please... listen first. Though you deserve it, my aim is not to get angry with you." Thomas paused then went on when James nodded subtly for him to continue. "I won't pretend to know her thoughts, but James, I think there are some walls she doesn't feel like she can afford to let down, and I would guess that it has to do with how you treated her... as a wife."

"But surely she doesn't think I am the same as a man who would do that," James said restlessly, neither denying or confirming Thomas's claims against him.

"Maybe not, but she knows you need a son," Thomas answered. "She knows that no matter how friendly and good you may be to her, she will always owe it to you to fulfill her obligations, and perhaps that is why she wrote to you the way she did. She knows her job is never done."

It was clear that James hadn't considered the obligation that Jane was under, nor had he considered that the child she carried might be a girl. The thought made his heart race with anxiety for a number of reasons, but the most prevalent one rested with the possibility of laying with Jane again. Of course, as a man who found her quite pleasing to the eyes, he wanted to, but as the man who had knowingly caused her pain, he couldn't bear the thought of it. Try as he might to forget the way Jane's eyes had filled with tears when he took her the first time, he couldn't erase the image from his mind. Nor could he drown out the sounds she made when he came into her before she was ready, the physical pain he had caused her. James knew damn well though, if he couldn't forget it, there was no way on earth Jane ever would.

James couldn't do that to her again, and he didn't wish to remind her of it either. He knew of course if they ever lay together again that it would be different, that he would treat her the way a man ought to treat a lover. Like an equal. Even if she did not love him, it was possible to give her release and to pleasure her in all the ways he knew how. But he had a feeling that it would hurt her still, to be reminded of his previous treatment of her. Perhaps Thomas was right, and this was one of the wrongs that couldn't be remedied. He found himself praying for the opposite, but he didn't allow himself to scarcely hope.

"Is there really nothing I can do?" James asked his father-in-law, his voice hushed and weak. "Is there no way I can prove to her that I've changed?"

"To what end?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you want her to see that you've changed? What do you want with her that would require that?"

James hesitated to answer, because frankly, he didn't know; or rather, he did know but wasn't quite yet ready to admit it aloud. How could he? How could he say that he longed for Jane to love him after all he had done to harm her? He couldn't ask that of her, even if it was his heart's deepest desire. Though it was only natural that he should want his wife to love him, James knew it was selfish. He knew he had already asked for too much.

"Nothing I deserve," James said gravely, and suddenly, another realization dawned on him. "I'm afraid I've wasted your time. I know now that I've been chasing something that will always remain out of reach."

"James," his father-in-law warned, "do not give up on her. You owe her that."

"I know, and I won't. I've just realized that letting myself hope will kill me." Folding Jane's letter in his hands, James nodded in appreciation towards Thomas. "Thank you for your time."

Without another word, James turned to leave, only for the sound of Thomas's voice to stop him.

"James, wait," Thomas said with a heavy sigh. James turned to face him, though his hand was on the doorknob, anticipating his time alone. "I don't think you're right to abandon hope. I don't know what it is you want, but I know that giving up on it entirely will not bode well for you or her. Times will get hard, and you will need something that drives you to keep the right path. Without it, you'll just go right back to where you were before."

Laughing cynically to himself, James answered, "What am I to hope for? I have destroyed any chance I ever had of finding happiness."

"I don't agree."

James silently pressed him with a raised brow and the challenge to prove him wrong. Thomas accepted it easily and continued, "There are many types of happiness, James, not just the one you imagine. Life is full of disappointments, but we should never lose hope of something better. It can take years, even eighteen of them like in my case with Jane, but things have a way of working themselves out in the end."

"I am glad you are able to see it that way," James said sullenly. "But I fear I am not so patient as you. I could not endure what you did."

"You could if you had to. Humans are resilient when it comes to people we love."

James heart ached at the mention of love, for though he was sure that he wasn't in love with Jane, he was sure that he at least cared for her as much as someone who might be. How could he not, especially when he had done more to prove himself to her than any other person in the world. He cared about her opinion of him, and the more he obsessed over it, the more he felt himself surrendering to her influence. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her if she asked it of him; after all he had done, he owed her that much, and he would be damned if he let his debt go unpaid.

But love. James wasn't sure he knew how to love. It felt like so long since he had known love's tender embrace that he wouldn't know it was upon him until the life was being squeezed from his lungs. He wished things were different. He wished he knew what it was to love someone again, to protect them and revel in their love in return. He could admit to himself that he wanted that with Jane. After all that had passed between them, after everything he had done, he wanted her to care about him the way he was beginning to care for her, but he dared not hope for it. How could he? The last thing in the world he deserved was the love of someone who had done no wrong.

Smiling sadly at his father-in-law, James nodded and said, "I hope you are right."

Then, turning his back to him for a second time, James left Thomas as he had found him and proceeded down the hallway towards his rooms. Typically, he avoided spending too much time there, but then, his chest felt so tight that he was sure he needed the privacy of those four walls. With blurry eyes, James sat down on the edge of his made bed, spine bent and his head hung low. His sinuses burned as he shut his eyes and tried to will away this unanticipated surge of emotion but to no avail. His devastation had seized his heart, and now he was at its mercy.

It was all his fault. Everything was, and he hated himself more than anything in the world for ruining the good thing he had been given. He hadn't thought much of his father in recent weeks, but now James came to the realization that he hated himself far more than he had ever hated that man. How could he not when he had known what his father was all along, yet still, he had allowed himself to become just like him? Surely, that meant James was worse than his father had ever been.

If only he had chosen to be better than his father instead of trying to spite him, maybe then he wouldn't be in the position he was that day. Maybe then he would have seen Jane at a public gathering and been enchanted by her light spirit and dazzling blue eyes. Maybe he would have courted her as a gentleman might, and maybe she would have looked at him in the way he had only seen her look at one other. She had loved Harry once, James was sure of it, though he did not know to what extent. He had hated his old friend for that, but now, James found himself incapable of passing judgment on him. If only he hadn't been so blind to himself, then maybe he could have seen why he failed to catch Jane's eyes. He could have seen that he had become his father, cruel and heartless to torment the innocent, for that's what Jane was. Innocent. She didn't deserve the hell he had afflicted upon her, and she certainly never would.

In that moment, James prayed their child was a boy; he never had before. He prayed this for her sake, because he knew: if they failed to have a son, he would have to go to Jane's bed again. He would have to put a child in her until a male heir was born to them, and unless he decided to be reckless, there wasn't any way around it. Jane would always hate him for it. He knew that, and he couldn't blame her; but that only increased his devastation.

Hot tears slipped from James's eyes as he tried to manage the reality of his circumstances. They came slowly since he tried to resist, but just like in life, his efforts did little to manage the flood that would soon wash over him. He wept silently, though he knew how pitiful he must look. But for the first time in his life, he didn't care. James wished there was someone in that world who could have pitied him, but he knew well that there wasn't, nor would there ever be. He had all but dug his own grave, and he had only himself to blame.

•••

I hope everyone is doing well! I've just started my last semester of college so I'm kind of freaking out. I'm going to try to finish this story before I start law school in august, so look forward to more updates! :)

Thanks for reading my dudes ily
Kate💖