London, United Kingdom

May 1852

The room in which the two of them sat was dim but slowly becoming brighter as the sun rose over the sleeping city outside. Jane sat beside James at a distance, her back stiff and her hands clasped together in her lap as she tried to organize her thoughts. With his leg bouncing nervously, James kept his head bowed as he awaited his wife's speech. The constant movement unnerved Jane and made it difficult for her to concentrate, though she said nothing to make him still. Instead, she turned her face away, hoping that in the next few moments, she could somehow gather herself and make the demands necessary to ensure her safety.

"There's no easy way to go about this," Jane began some time later, finally breaking the silence that weighed over them. "So I suppose I'll just say it bluntly..." Glancing sideways, Jane found that James was now looking at her. She looked away and took a deep breath, "Things can't keep on this way. You–"

"I know–"

"No, you don't," Jane said impatiently, annoyed with him for interrupting her so early on in their conversation. "You don't know how hard it's been for me these last few months, let alone last night, and I truly don't know how much more I can take. Things have to change, James... otherwise, I don't think I can stay here with you anymore."

Upon hearing Jane's words, James sat up stiffly and turned himself to face her. With his dark brows furrowed, he apprehensively asked, "What do you mean?"

"I just mean that unless you change, I'll be going back to Chatsworth, and you can't come with me."

"You can't go by yourself," James said flatly, evidently doubtful that Jane actually meant to follow through with what she was saying.

But he was missing the point, so Jane dismissed his concern and tried to steer the conversation in the right direction, "I know, and I don't want to go by myself. My father would accompany me if it were to come to that, but James, it doesn't have to if you agree to what I'm asking."

"What are you asking? I already told you last night won't happen again; can't we just move on?"

"No," Jane said resolutely, deciding that what she said next would likely make James angry. She didn't think he would be able to admit to having a problem with drinking. "We can't just move on, because I just can't trust you when you've been drinking... And given that you drink all the time, surely you can understand why I might not trust that you can control yourself."

James paused for several moments, apparently contemplating her words to him. He was likely going to push back and insist that he didn't have a problem, so Jane braced herself for an argument that would end with her making arrangements to go to the country. But to her surprise, James didn't push back just yet.

"What are you asking of me?" he said simply, refusing to betray himself by expressing any shred of emotion. It seemed he was determined not to react as he had the night before.

"You know what I'm asking," Jane answered, anxious for the moment that James would snap. Surely, he would in the next few moments. She sighed heavily, "The drinking has to stop."

"I won't get drunk anymore if that's what you mean."

"No, that's not– well, yes, I do mean that, but that's not enough."

James huffed impatiently, "What is, then?"

"The drinking has to stop," Jane said again. "I mean all of it."

"You're joking," James scoffed, challenging her request but not yet entirely denying it. "You realize it's impossible for someone of my station to do that?"

"Why?"

"Why? You know why. It wouldn't– it– I can't," James sputtered. "It wouldn't look right if I suddenly only started drinking water. People don't just do that."

"You don't have to just drink water," Jane rolled her eyes. "There are plenty of drinks that don't have alcohol in them."

Frowning to himself, James lowered his head and was silent for several moments. He wanted so badly to make amends for what he had done, but what Jane was asking of him went beyond a reasonable request. It would be easy enough not to drink on his own time, but given the nature of his position, there was no way he could possibly avoid alcohol in its entirety. He had never once attended a business meeting that hadn't been conducted over a glass of whiskey, nor had he ever attended a dinner during which wine hadn't been served. Surely, Jane knew that those things were beyond his control.

"Jane, I want things to change between us, I really do, but you're asking too much," James said gently, hoping that she would give him the chance to prove himself on his own terms. He looked up and met her gaze, which was neither condemning nor friendly. "If I'm intentional, I can control myself, I swear. Just please, let me try it my way."

At this, Jane only rolled her eyes and frustratedly answered, "Don't you realize we've been doing this your way since the beginning? It hasn't been working, James; we have to try something different now."

James sighed in disappointment, though he knew he should have expected as much. If he wanted a future in which he and Jane got along, he was no longer the one making the decisions.

"Fine," he said at last, aggravated and still somewhat resistant to agreeing to her terms completely. "But let me ask that for public events, I'm allowed one drink... just a glass of wine or champagne when it's offered to me?"

Frowning, Jane looked as if she were about to protest. James, however, interrupted her before she could say another word.

"Please, hear me out," he begged. "Nothing more than a single drink during dinner or business meetings... to keep people from asking questions. I don't want to have to explain myself."

"How hard is it to say that you're trying to drink less or that you simply don't want any?"

"It's not... it's the questions that would follow, Jane. My friends especially... they would never believe that for a second."

Jane stared at him for several moments then shook her head, tiredly answering him, "I'm sorry, but I've made up my mind about this, and allowing you that freedom is not a risk I'm willing to take at this point. You'll have to figure out what you want to tell them on your own." She huffed impatiently, "Blame it on me if you'd like; I really don't care."

"It wouldn't be a risk," James said, teeth clenched and trying desperately to manage his frustration; he was not used to being spoken to like this. "One glass for appearance's sake wouldn't hurt."

"You're missing the point," Jane said impatiently, allowing that cruel part of herself to make a subtle appearance. It seemed that harsh words were the only thing that could force James to listen to her. "I don't trust you, and this is the only way I could possibly consider spending another night under the same roof as you."

James sat back and dropped his shoulders with a sigh. He couldn't deny that Jane's words stung him, nor could he deny that he deserved anything less harsh. As she had so bluntly put it, he had broken her trust, or what remained of it anyway, and now he would have to face the consequences if he hoped to have any sort of relationship with her in the future.

"You're serious?" James asked quietly, looking to Jane for any sort of waver in her resolution. However, she offered none, nodding solemnly as if to tell him that he had no other choice but to obey her command.

"Damn it." James sighed and dejectedly shook his head. "Alright, I'll quit... if that's what you want."

Astonished, Jane looked at him with wide eyes, "Really?"

"Yes... if this is what it will take to make you feel safe here, then I will do it," James said resolutely, feeling suddenly overcome by the desire to prove himself. He had to follow through with this promise; his pride as well as his self-hatred made it impossible to do otherwise, despite the embarrassment it might cause him in front of his friends. He would conquer this, and Jane would forgive him. After all, what were a few weeks without alcohol? It shouldn't be too difficult.

James watched Jane in hopes of seeing her demeanor change, though when it did, he was disappointed and somewhat frightened to see her eyes begin to glisten with tears. She smiled faintly then turned away from him, bringing her hands up to her face and brushing the tears from her cheeks.

"Are you alright?" James asked her softly, worried that maybe there was something else wrong that he was still unaware of. He waited silently for her to answer him, but still, she would not speak or even show her face. Unsure of what to do, James started to reach out to touch her shoulder, but before his skin could make contact with the fabric of her robe, he thought better of it and drew back. She wouldn't like him to touch her, especially now; he would have to rely on words alone.

"Jane?"

This time, Jane did answer him, though her response was not at all what James had been expecting.

"Yes," Jane said faintly, turning to face him with reddened eyes. "Yes, I'm fine. I just–– I didn't realize how much stress–– I mean, I didn't realize how it would feel––" Jane shook her head and shut her eyes, sighing. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to cry."

James looked at his wife with pity now, as he realized that of the two of them, she should be the last to apologize for anything. It should be him, and the fact that he hadn't apologized yet didn't sit well with him in spite of his belief that Jane would never actually forgive him. Doing so might prove to be just another useless sacrifice of his pride; nonetheless, he owed her the small favour of an apology.

"You shouldn't be the one apologizing," James said solemnly. "I should have said something when I first saw you this morning, but I––" James shook his head. "It's no matter now why I didn't, but I want you to know how genuinely sorry I am for how I've hurt you. You didn't deserve it, and I... I have no excuse whatsoever."

It was clear to James by Jane's expression that she hadn't expected him to say any of what he had just said to her, what with her troubled gaze and firmly pressed lips. It was as if she was searching for a reason to doubt him, but the longer she looked upon him, the less certain she seemed to be. James wanted to say something more, but he couldn't find the words. He didn't know what more he could say in this situation. After all, words made little difference in fixing something like this; only actions could possibly remedy what he had done.

"Thank you," Jane said at last, though it still seemed to James that she was unsure about him. He would take it though; at least he had said what needed to be said.

A heavy silence fell over the two of them. It was light outside now, but despite the promise of the new day, James felt as if there was something more that Jane wished to speak to him about. Thus, regardless of the anxiety it caused him, James waited patiently for her to dismiss him.

"Can I ask you something?" Jane asked after some time, looking to him for the encouragement to continue. "I just wonder... what happened last night that would make you act the way you did?"

James frowned. Part of him had anticipated this question from her, but the expectation did little to prepare him for what to say when she asked it. He could hardly remember the events of the night before, save for the moment he realized what he had done; thus, explaining himself would prove to be very difficult.

"I wish I could tell you why I acted the way I did, but I can't," James answered her. "I don't remember what I was thinking."

Jane was not so easily deterred; she wanted answers and would pry to find them. "Well, what about before you started drinking last night? You seemed fine when we got home; what happened after I went to bed?"

That part, James did remember, though he wished he didn't. How could he possibly express to her the ridiculousness that led him to the liquor cabinet that night? To do so would be to abandon his dignity, and so James simply refused to do it. He would dance around her questions until she could think of nothing more to ask. Only then could he escape this interrogation.

"Nothing happened necessarily... I just lost count of how many drinks I had had."

Jane huffed, "Right, but why start drinking at all? It was late; why not just go to bed?"

"I wasn't sleepy," James said simply. "Really, there was no reason. Nothing happened."

"So you started drinking because you were bored?"

"No, not exactly," James answered, trying not to become too frustrated with her. She was being more persistent than he had anticipated.

"Then why do it?"

"I don't know, Jane. Can we please just drop it? I already told you I wouldn't drink anymore."

Sighing heavily, Jane shook her head, "I know, and I'm sorry for asking so many questions. It's just that last night, you were asking me things that didn't make sense, so I'm just trying to understand what you meant."

James was apprehensive to ask Jane what he had said, but he knew that regardless of what he decided to do, she would tell him anyway. Thus, he chose to shorten the suspense.

"What did I ask?"

Glancing up at him then returning her attention to her hands in her lap, Jane shrugged, "Well, you asked... you said you didn't want to live like this anymore. I just wondered what you meant."

In light of Jane's retelling of his actions, James felt his face grow hot with the realization that he could not so easily avoid this question. It was evident through his own words that he was dissatisfied, and Jane was not likely to let it go. He had to give her at least part of the truth; otherwise, they might be stuck there all morning.

Sighing heavily, James rubbed his palms against the fabric of his trousers and answered her, "I don't know. I guess after last night, I just wished that we didn't have to put on such an act when other people are around."

Jane frowned, uncertain that he meant what he seemed to be saying, "What do you mean?"

"I just wish we could be friends," James forced himself to say, still keeping his head bowed. Perhaps that would be enough of a confession, he thought. Surely, she wanted the same thing? "I think it would be easier that way."

Jane was quiet for several moments, which only made James more nervous. What if she didn't want that? Aside from adjusting his drinking habits, he didn't know at all what she wanted from him. Had he just completely embarrassed himself?

"You're right; it would be easier," Jane said dryly, deflating James's confidence even further. Her tone of voice did not inspire him to think that they were on the same page. "I didn't realize you felt that way."

"Do you?" James dared to ask. "I mean, do you want to be friends? ...Or, I guess, do you think that could happen, even after what I've done?"

"I don't know," Jane answered honestly. "I'd like to say yes, because I know that's the only way either of us won't kill the other in the next fifty years, but now..."

"Now, you can't," James finished her sentence as she trailed off, disappointed in himself for even considering that she might be able to disregard her opinion of him. He sighed, "I know I deserve that... I wouldn't want to be friends with me either if I were you."

"Well, I don't really have another option, do I?" Jane laughed dryly. "Unless one of us dies or you decide to divorce me, I'm afraid we're stuck with one another for a very long time."

James had expected her to say as much, though hearing it still stung him to some degree. She was trapped in a relationship with him, and even though she was carrying his child, something told him that she would give anything to leave him if she could. He didn't blame her, especially not when he was so painfully aware of his own faults, but still, he had hoped that she might want to at least pursue some sort of peaceful partnership with him. After all, if they were stuck together, they might as well just make the most of it.

Dejectedly, James nodded, "Right."

Jane, however, seeing his discouragement, sighed and answered him, "Look, I don't know if I can ever trust you enough to truly be friends, but given our circumstances, I know I'm going to have to try regardless. That is... I'll try if you really mean it."

James couldn't hide the hope her words gave him.

"Really?" he asked, almost like a child who had just been promised a whole handful of sweets.

"Yes, but that means you'll have to pull your weight, too. I honestly..." Shutting her eyes, Jane shook her head and tried to gather herself. "I'm honestly finding it very difficult not to hate you right now––and I would be justified if I did––so that means that if I'm going to make an effort to get over that, I need to see that you're putting in the effort to be better."

James opened his mouth to speak, but Jane shushed him by holding up her hand and continuing, "No, I'm not finished. If we're going to be friends like you apparently want, it's going to take a whole lot more than you just quitting drinking. You need to be decent, James. I admit you have been better than before in the last few weeks, but it can never be like it was in the beginning. You have to respect me, and you have to listen when I tell you that something isn't working between us; otherwise, there's no point in me trying to forgive you at all."

Suddenly, James didn't feel so hopeful as he did moments before. Jane really was mad at him, and unfortunately for him, altering his drinking habit was only the beginning of what he would have to do to make up for it. In realizing this, he also had to come to terms with the fact that he had massively underestimated her feelings about their relationship. Her confrontation clearly stemmed from something far deeper than just the events from the night before, and for the first time in his life, James didn't challenge the complaints being made against him. If Jane felt that he had disrespected her or treated her poorly, then he must have done something to merit that kind of accusation. All he could do was be better like she was asking and hope that one day, it might be enough to earn her forgiveness.

James was quiet for several moments after Jane finished speaking, gathering his thoughts and trying to figure out the best way to tell her that he was surrendering. He didn't have much experience doing so; thus, James felt awkward and unsure of himself.

Supposing absolute humility was going to be his best option, James simply nodded and said, "Okay."

Jane, however, did not understand his meaning.

"Okay?" she questioned, slightly agitated but clearly trying to keep her composure. "That's all you have to say?"

"No, I mean, okay, I'll do it," James clarified, sitting back against the couch and relaxing for the first time since sitting down with her. "Whatever you want, I'll do it. I'm obviously the guilty party here, now I have to make up for my crimes."

Jane's hardened demeanor faltered, and she was left staring at James with her brows furrowed together in confusion, "You're serious?"

"Yes."

Bewildered, Jane sat back against the couch and stared out at the rest of the room, which was now illuminated by the morning's sun.

"Well, then," she huffed, "I don't really know what else to say. I didn't expect you not to put up a fight."

James laughed nervously, not wanting to test the newfound peace that had finally managed to weave its way in between them, "I can't say I'm used to it either... I think it's good though."

"What? Not fighting?"

"Yeah."

Jane laughed, "Let's just hope it lasts."

Unsure of how to reply to that, James remained silent and still. The conversation felt like it was finished, but James didn't want to be the first one to leave. After the scolding he had received, he didn't feel like he had the authority to make that decision. Jane had made it quite clear that he answered to her now, and James was not about to test that.

After sitting in silence for several moments, Jane stood, saying, "Right, well, that's all I had, really... I have to go get ready for breakfast with Lorraine. I'm sure she has a million questions."

Without thinking much of his next actions, James stood after her and quickly interjected, "Wait, Jane, I can talk to her."

"What?"

"Oh, um..." James lowered his eyes, suddenly insecure in his decision. "I just meant that I'll tell her what I did."

"Why on earth would you do that?"

"You shouldn't have to lie to her because I fucked up. And besides," he laughed dryly, "she'll probably beat me for you."

Jane cracked only the slightest of smiles, shaking her head in amusement. "If you're sure," she said. "Just make her swear not to tell my father. I really do think he would kill you."

"I don't doubt it."

With that, the two of them parted ways with timid goodbyes, both unsure of how they ought to interact with one another. The tension brought on by the night before had been mostly eliminated, but now they were left to sort through what was extremely unfamiliar territory. Neither one really knew what it was like to be at peace with one another, and so they would both soon discover the logistics of what that actually looked like.

Jane, especially, didn't know what it was she was supposed to be doing in this new arrangement with James. She was bitter towards him, and angry, but given his willingness to try to be better, she wasn't quite sure that holding onto that grudge for much longer would be beneficial or even possible. Frankly, she was confused about what to feel.

Meanwhile, James knew exactly what he was feeling, and what he was feeling was an overwhelming sense of dread. He dreaded the coming weeks for the hardships they would cause him, but more immediately, he dreaded going to Lorraine. Why he had done it, James didn't know but he had promised to tell her the truth for Jane's sake; only, now that he was making his way to her room, James regretted that decision. Jane had been forgiving, as it was in her nature to be so; Lorraine, however, would not show him the same mercy. But despite his fear and anxiety, James forced himself to go to his aunt's room to tell her the truth. Whatever her reaction, it would be the first step in fixing what he had so horribly ruined. He just prayed that one day, his efforts would all be worth it.

•••

Hey, yall! i hope everyone is holding up during the quarantine :) 

ily guys and thanks for reading!

-kate