London, United Kingdom
January 1852

By the time Jane arrived in London, she could barely hold herself together. The long day of travel was hard enough on her, but it was made even more difficult by the grief accumulating in her heart. Every mile travelled only served to further injure her wounded spirit, weakening her resolve to maintain a placid composure in every passing moment. She tried not to think about all that had come to pass that morning, lest the tears that never seemed to leave her eyes should fall. But with Henry's sharp gaze ever fixed upon her throughout their journey, Jane did not wish for him to feel as if he had won. Thus, for the sake of her pride, Jane tried to employ a stoic disposition.

However determined Jane may have been, London was not such an easy place for her to visit without thinking of Harry and their tragic end. Jane had met Harry in London less than a year before, the city reminding Jane of the liveliness and genuine joy that summer had offered them. They had merely flirted then, but such prosperity now seemed impossible to Jane, whose vitality had died with the leaves in the face of the winter winds.

Everywhere she turned, Jane found herself thinking of Harry and how she had lost him, each memory sneaking its way into her psyche to torture her already destroyed emotions. She felt hollow, like nothing in the world could ever replace the love that she had lost. As she made her way into the Pelham family's London apartment, Jane was entirely devastated with the knowledge that emptiness within her would never be amended. If Harry was lost to her, so too was her joy.

Jane's grandmother immediately rushed to meet Jane before she reached her bedroom, pestering her with questions regarding her selfish actions of remaining in Newcastle so long. Not wishing to hear Regina's shrill voice scolding her, Jane dismissed herself, saying that her health had not yet fully returned to her. This was not a lie.

Jane felt physically ill when she retired for the night, and for the first time since that morning, she permitted herself to weep aloud. In the confines of her bedroom, Jane's pride meant nothing to her. She succumbed to her weakness, allowing herself to feel the fullness of her grief without restraint.

As she cried into her pillow, Jane couldn't help but wish that Harry were there to hold her, telling her that everything would be alright. She had grown so used to his reassurance, but now that it was being denied to her, Jane didn't know how to console herself. How could she live without him, especially now when she needed him most?

And her poor father also occupied her mind. If not to Harry, Jane would have turned to Thomas for comfort; however, he too was taken from her. She had some sense of closure in knowing that she had at least been able to say goodbye to Harry, but Thomas– her dear father– would never see her again, not so long as Henry was around to prevent him from seeing her. She would never get to express her appreciation of his efforts to be a part of her life, nor did she ever get to truly relay to him how much she respected and loved him as her father. Thus, Jane did not weep for herself alone.

It took two days for Regina to rearrange the details of Jane's wedding, though this time, the ceremony was to be much smaller than originally planned. For this, Jane was thankful. She was glad that at very least, she would not have to put on the grand show that Regina had been expecting from her. As skilled as Jane could be in masking her feelings, the pain she was experiencing ran so deeply within her that she knew she would never be able to fully hide it. It would seep out of her like water trickling out of a the walls of a cave, though in her case, the cracked stone would be replaced by the fractured structure of her soul.

In the the two days prior to the wedding, Jane kept mostly to herself, using the lie of her illness as an excuse to stay in bed. She felt drained of all vitality, never to experience love or joy again. After the first day, Jane was numb to her pain, her expression devoid of any emotion, whether good or bad. She didn't feel like moving or eating; sleep was her only companion, and it grieved her when sleep would no longer come.

Though he was undoubtedly enraged by Jane's actions just days before, Henry could see his granddaughter's pain, and so sympathized with her. He kept his wife away from Jane's bedroom, telling her that the girl needed to be left alone. Of course, Regina pushed back against this decision, but seeing her husband's insistence and wearied countenece convinced her to let it alone. As long as Jane married, Regina would be content.

Before Jane could really comprehend the passage of time, the morning of her wedding arrived. She was surprised when Regina burst into her room, followed by a maid who carried the gown she was to wear for the ceremony. In truth, Jane hadn't actually given much thought to her wedding during the time she had to herself; her thoughts had been occupied by Harry and her father, wondering where they were and what they were doing. Thus, the matter of her new husband had hardly crossed her mind.

However, now that Jane was standing in her bedroom while her maid tightened the laces of her corset, she could not help but give James her attention. She did not harbor the same fear of marrying him as she did before running away, for the numbness that silenced her pain also served to silence her fear. Jane supposed this to be a good thing; it was better to feel nothing than to feel anguish, and so Jane said nothing to protest the events occurring around her. She was their puppet, a porcelain doll to perform the play that had been written for her.

Layer after layer of fabric was brought down over Jane's head, tying at her waist and giving her the fullest skirt she had ever worn. The white lace of her bodice was exquisitely made, each delicate little flower hand-stitched with precision, and the fine silk feeling like cool liquid up against her skin. Her waist was cinched tightly within the confines of her corset, the appearance of which seemed to please Regina greatly.

Jane couldn't even be upset with her grandmother for fawning over her that day, for objectively, Jane knew that she looked just as a bride ought to look, but still, she could not bring herself to be encouraged in that. While the things that adorned her body were flattering, the life was missing from Jane's face. Her normally bright eyes were dull and uninterested, as were the downturned corners of her mouth. It was a good thing that she would be wearing a veil for most of the ceremony, for as sure as Jane was in her ability to keep from crying, she could not reverse the physical evidence of her despair. It was etched deep within her, and she knew that such sorrow would not dissipate any time soon.

The morning was rushed, but Jane went along with it all, silently doing as she was told so as not to create more conflict with her grandmother. As much as her obedience had to do with her aversion to clashing with Regina, it was Jane's apathy that allowed her to endure the things she was having to do. She simply didn't care anymore– she couldn't care anymore, lest the feelings of agony that she was burying within herself should make their escape.

They made their way to the church near the Hale's residence in London, Jane riding alone in the carriage with her grandmother, who talked idly about the plans of the day. There had been many occasions during which Regina had tried to have meaningful conversation with Jane, thanking her and encouraging her in the day's proceedings, but Jane heard none of it. It might have made Jane feel less anxious had she cared to worry about getting married to James; however, Jane found her grandmother's appeals to be bothersome and unnecessary. Nonetheless, she pretended to listen, though she comprehended not a word that was said to her.

The ceremony rushed by in a blur of events that Jane would never be able to recall. She willed herself to walk down the aisle, her face covered by the lace veil that had once been her grandmother's. With her head held high, Jane faced James Hale at the altar, feeling numb to his touch as his hands grasped her own. She would have flinched away from him, but now, she couldn't bring herself to. Her capacity for strong feeling had been spent on her grief; thus, she couldn't even dain to feel her displeasure with the morning's events. The worst had already happened, so what was a wedding to add to her distress?

The one brief moment of the ceremony that actually brought Jane to consciousness was that moment at the end when she and James were supposed to share a kiss together. She had been distracted for most of the ceremony, but then she saw him leaning towards her, looking more nervous than she had ever seen him, and she knew she could not pull away. With wide eyes, Jane had kissed James, sealing their bond as husband and wife in the eyes of God and men.

Jane had expected to hate kissing him, but to her confusion, she didn't. As much as she longed to have Harry's lips once again against her own, she found that the one brief moment with James hadn't stirred even the slightest bit of repulsion in her. It wasn't at all that she liked it, but that with his lips tasting of his morning whiskey, Jane was just about as numb as he was. He didn't seem drunk to her, but there swirled and emptiness in his icy gaze that showed Jane just a glimpse of what he was feeling. Though she didn't dare say a word to verify, Jane knew that in some ways, she and James were of one mind that cool, January morning. He was just as angry as she was, maybe even more so, and however much that cold, dead look in his eyes scared her, Jane was hopeful that maybe their shared displeasure with the situation would incline him to at least be kind to her in the coming days. 

These thoughts of hope soon died away as she and James left the crowd of cheerful applause in the carriage that would take them to his London home, or rather, their London home. James's eyes were determinedly turned away from Jane as they rode together in silence, but she didn't mind. She could hardly form a coherent thought, let alone try to communicate with the cold-hearted man sitting across from her, so she found the silence to be a relief. In truth, they were both tired of people talking to them about the event that had at long last come to its fulfillment.

It wasn't until they neared their destination that James finally spoke to Jane, drawing her from her apparently deep state of thought. "I'm taking you to my father before the guests arrive. He wishes to meet you again, though he is not well enough to play the host this afternoon. I'm afraid that task will fall on me."

Jane hummed in acknowledgement of James's request to her, simply nodding her head and continuing to stare out the window. They could both feel that tension that existed between them, though neither made an effort to diffuse it. Content in their indifference towards each other, both considered it to be useless to feign happiness, for it was evident that neither of them were.

When they arrived at their destination, Jane was ushered inside, where they were met with the servants of the house awaiting them. As Jane and her husband proceeded through those great hallways, they were met with a chorus of congratulations from their staff, each one of them paying their respects to their new mistress with a low bow. It was strange to see all those people regarding her with so much respect, and that's when it dawned on her that she wasn't just a child anymore. She was the wife of the next Duke of Devonshire, and she would have an authority that rivaled even her grandmother's.

Soon, Jane found herself waiting at the door of Charles Hale's bedchamber, and suddenly, Jane felt the crippling sensation of panic wash over her. As she stood there in such a new place, with people who were strangers to her, in a dress that only reminded her of the vows she had so recently made, Jane at long last came to her senses. The numbness that she had been able to cast over herself for the audience's sake had disintegrated without her realizing it, only for the full extent of her fear to come crashing down upon her, pressing down on her sternum with such force she thought she might collapse. But there was nothing she could do; it was too late to go back to where she had been mere hours ago.

It was then that Jane's mind once again dared to think of Harry again. It should have been their wedding on that January morning. It should have been Harry's lips on hers, not James', a man with whom she would never really sympathize or love. Yet again, the pang of her grief ripped through Jane's chest, making her feel as if she would never be made whole again. She was empty, and Jane was convinced that the gaping hole that Harry had left within her would never again be filled. 

With her breath stolen from her lungs and her eyes glassy with fresh tears, Jane came into her father-in-law's bedroom when James called for her. Her steps were calculated as she moved, having to focus on her motions so as not to allow her disheveled mind to render herself devoid of grace. She felt an uneasiness churning in the pit of her stomach as she approached them, and their watchful eyes did nothing to calm it.

Nonetheless, Jane came to stand beside James as she faced Charles Hale, who sat by the window, looking more sickly than she had expected. His skin was pale and there was a gauntness to him that gave him the look of a man teetering on the edge of death. It was then that Jane pitied her husband; despite his determination to seem indifferent towards his father, surely it was not easy to see the man who raised him declining so rapidly.

His thin lips parted, only for a diseased cough to fall from them before he managed to address her, "My dear, come closer." The elder Hale beckoned her over with the feeble wave of his bony hand, which looked as if it had been plucked directly from the grave.

Glancing sideways at James's bored expression, Jane obeyed the old Duke and came to stand by his seat. She dropped gracefully into a low bow, where she turned her eyes to the floor so as to hide the evidence of her grief from a man whom she did not wish to provoke with her tears. Surely, even just a gust of wind would blow this man away like dust in the breeze, never to be seen again. 

"Your Grace," Jane greeted him quietly, her voice almost as feeble as the poor man's failing body. She had yet to muster enough strength for a particularly long conversation, but as her voice cracked, she realized that she would have to do so soon.

"Look up at me." Apprehensively, Jane lifted her eyes to meet his, her heart racing as she forced herself not to cry. Though she could keep the actual tears from escaping her eyes, she could not help the glittering effect that the light had on the moisture that threatened to break the barrier of her eyelashes.

Seeing as how James was standing behind his wife, he could not see the evident struggle that was battling within her, but his father could. Charles frowned and gingerly lifted his hand, waving his son away, "I need a moment."

Jane heard James's annoyed sigh, followed by the sound of his heavy footsteps taking him from the room. Her heart was pounding in her ears as the door slammed behind her, signaling that she and her father-in-law were now alone. She didn't know what he intended to say, but as was in her nature, Jane's mind raced with all the terrible things that could be spoken to her. After all, it seemed that for the last two days, horrible things seemed to be coming at her ceaselessly in all directions, and this was doubtlessly another blow that she would have to endure.

"Jane," Charles spoke her name for the first time, his voice holding a kindness to it that she had not expected. "Please look up at me."

Jane obeyed.

Swallowing with some difficulty as he tried to clear his throat, Charles Hale shut his eyes and sighed, "I know that my son is not the most honorable of men, and for that, I suppose I am to blame. On that account, I owe you an apology." Jane's eyes widened in surprise at Charles's words. Of all the things she had expected him to say, his disapproval of his son's behavior surely was not one of them.

Not knowing what else she could say, Jane blinked dumbfoundedly and shook her head as if to deny her father-in-law's assessment of her new husband, "No, I- it's alright."

"It's not," Charles insisted firmly. "He is difficult, and he has been for years. But my dear, however difficult he may be, I need you to promise me something."

Jane nodded reluctantly, though in her heart she knew that she would have no choice in the matter. She would have to fulfill her duties as a wife regardless of whether Charles asked it of her or not, but at the moment, she didn't want to think of all that such an undertaking would entail. However to Jane's surprise, Charles asked something of her that would be much more difficult than becoming a wife and mother.

"Promise me that when you give him an heir, you will not allow him to neglect that child as I did him." Charles lowered his eyes, Jane noticing the moisture that filled them when he looked towards the window. "An absent father is no better than a dead one; I just wish I had learned that sooner."

In that moment, Jane's heart bled with sympathy for the sorrowful man sitting in front of her. Regret was clearly branded in his tear-filled eyes, a look she had seen many times in her own father's eyes. Though the circumstances were undoubtedly different, Jane could not ignore the fact that both men possessed that same sense of longing that could only accumulate with lost time.

It was then that Jane felt she could understand some of James's desire to rebel. After learning of her own family's deception of her as well as experiencing her father's endured absence from her life, Jane had felt that same sense of rage-filled desire to act out. While she was sure that James's initial mentality had much more to do with trying to get his father's attention than trying to spite him or improve his circumstances, Jane could nonetheless understand some of the abandonment he must have felt if his father was indeed so absent as he claimed to be.

For these reasons, Jane was not horrified by the mention of her future with James. Whatever life they were to have together, Jane was determined not to allow the past to repeat itself; thus, she would consent to the promise Charles Hale asked of her. From the moment she had first came to recognize her parents' absence from her life, Jane had determined that her own children would never grow up as she had. And given her involuntary bond with James Hale, when the time came, she would not allow him to make the same mistakes his father did.

***

That pic up top is Queen Victoria and Prince Albert aka my original OTP lol im sorry im such a nerd hahah😂 also fun fact: Queen Victoria is the reason we wear white wedding dresses. She was the first one to popularize it, and so an international tradition was born wOW A QUEEN

Anyways, thanks for reading, my lovelies!!! Ily❤️
-Kate💖