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JANE WAS STARING OUT the window of her bedroom, as the afternoon clouds built and grew, her packing forgotten despite her imminent departure to her new home.
“Miss Shaw.” Sarah came closer, calling her name again. “Miss Shaw.”
Jane turned to see her maid quite close. “Oh Sarah, I beg your pardon, I did not hear you. Was there something you wanted?”
“I beg your pardon miss, but this letter just came for you.”
“Oh, a letter?” Jane gave a smile; a letter from Julia was always welcome. Or perhaps Meg had finally written. “Thank you, Sarah.” Jane took the square and looked at the direction.
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MISS JANE SHAW
Prennage Hall, Suffolk
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SHE GASPED.
Sarah turned back. “Are you alright, miss?” But Jane couldn’t say anything. It couldn’t be....it couldn’t.... she tore it open.
“Miss Shaw, is everything alright?”
“Yes, yes, Sarah, thank you...” But she didn’t look to see if Sarah had understood or left or anything because it was him, and he had written.
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HOLCOMBE MANOR, KENT
July 15, 1813
Dear Jane,
Due to the variety of circumstances I had no part in, I found myself with no time to finish our conversation. I feel an explanation is owed and I trust you to be discreet, and so now I tell you what has haunted me, as you so aptly guessed within moments of first making my acquaintance.
A few months ago, I found myself diagnosed with a tumor in my back. My absence from many events at the house party was explained by pressing business, but more often it was finding myself hiding in pain or even paralysis. It was estimated I had at most two years left to live, and I confess to feeling myself abandoned by my God, but with a thirst to prove myself. As a result, I looked at everything with fresh eyes. My estate was capable of more, my intended was now worldly and shallow; in short, my life felt as though it had failed me. When I met you, I found myself forming a friendship that quickly became the most important of my life. It did not take very long to realize you were superior to any other female of my acquaintance. In short, I fell in love with you.
I hope you now understand how I could not make a commitment to you regardless of my feelings, for I thought it selfish of me to require you for such a short time and then turn your life upside down with my death. My mother’s machinations may have resulted in a marriage to Miss Pratt – I assure you I will have fought it every step of the way.
I add one more burden for you to bear. I have instructed Lord Petersham to send you this letter in the event of my death and, forgive me, check to ensure you are well periodically.
I should have discussed this with you in person – forgive my cowardice. I cannot regret our time together, nor can I regret our many letters which I have kept, and hope you can find it in yourself to not regret either.
Your friend,
Charles, Earl of Harrington
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SHE SAT BACK IN THE window seat, the letter now wet. The window cried in unison, drops of rain blurring her view. She crumbled the letter in a fist, the ink leaving traces of her heart in her hand.
***
BLACK HAZY WEEKS WENT by until one day an expected Mr. Lawrence arrived. Jane watched him from an upstairs window, wondering how time had moved so quickly.
He was announced shortly, bowing to Lady Shaw, who looked him over carefully. “Good afternoon, Mr. Lawrence. You are very welcome. You have need of some tea, I should think.”
“Thank you Lady Shaw, that would be most welcome. Ja-Miss Shaw, how lovely to see you again.” His smile was sincere and he immediately came to sit next to her.
“It is good to see you as well, Mr. Lawrence.”
He noticed her black bombazine dress and raised his eyebrows. “I beg your pardon, I hope all is well?”
Aunt Jem sniffed, while Jane replied. “All is well. A close friend of mine has passed away.” A maid entered with the tea tray and there was silence while Aunt Jem distributed tea to Jane – lemon only, thank you, and Mr. Lawrence – two lumps, please.
The polite afternoon was followed by a polite evening where his serious demeanor and correct manners received approving nods from both her uncle and her aunt.
The next day, they spoke of his research until Aunt Jem was called away to handle a situation with the twins. Her look as she left made them both sit straighter, and only a few minutes more brought Sarah, who smiled at Jane and turned to hide in the corner with some mending. Their conversation came easier with the privacy.
“I must apologize for not writing you, but I assure you your letters were always a pleasure to receive.”
“I had wondered at you receiving them at all, but when I received your aunt’s invitation I could only assume you were a poor correspondent.” He smiled at her, and she bit her lip.
“I confess I did not know what to write to you, Mr. Lawrence.”
He frowned. “I had thought us better friends than that.”
“We are. Very good friends. There has just been so much...I could not decide what to say and so always left it for tomorrow.” She searched his face, her feelings a mess.
He put a hand on her arm. “Jane. Despite your aunt’s kind invitation, I am only here long enough to ask you for your hand in marriage. I must return shortly, and I should like nothing better than to return with the goal of finding a house we can soon share.”
She stood, her shawl coming off one shoulder. He stood too, arranging the shawl as it should be, close enough now to repeat their last exchange. She bowed her head and turned away.
“Mr. Lawrence, I...”
“You are putting me off again.” His tone made her look back at him, his face set.
“No, I –“
He shook his head. “You won’t call me by my first name. You are hesitant in your conversation and...” He stopped. “Does this have something to do with why you’re in mourning?”
She sighed and sat back on the window sill, and after a moment, he joined her, his gaze intense. “Tell me, Jane.”
She took a breath, then turned to face him, knowing he deserved the truth. “I told you this summer my heart was not entirely free. It...remained that way despite my growing regard for you. I had thought he did not or at least would not feel the same way, although it seems he did.”
“Jane.” His voice was soft. “You are crying.”
“Am I? I don’t seem to notice anymore.” He offered her his handkerchief and she calmly wiped her tears away. “I received information. That is, I was told,” her voice cracked as she handed him back his handkerchief. “He has passed away.”
“What?” His look was one of confusion. “But, I know of no-”
She looked at him once more. “Mr. Lawrence. Robert. You are a good man, a good friend, and I could marry you, but I cannot think you comfortable marrying a woman who is mourning for the one she loves.”
He sat back and eyed her, taking his time before responding. “Jane, there is a part of me that says to marry you and whisk you away, knowing it is in your nature to be happy and with this man out of your life, I am sure I could replace him quickly. However, I confess the very human side of me wishes to be first in your life now, not in three years or twenty when you have finally come to grips with everything.”
Jane said nothing, her words dried up.
He stood again and paced. “There is the chance, of course, that as the months pass you’ll find yourself regretting, or I will...” He stopped and looked at her. “My pride is feeling rather worn out, Jane. For now, at least, I think it best we part.”
She nodded. “At least as friends?”
His smile was sad. “Always.”