Page 68 of A Lady's Key to Passion

She put down her spoon as another wave of furious anger swept over her. It was unjust, and it was unfair.

It was too much. Far too much. And Jane knew that if her mother was sitting across from her now, she would say the same thing. The mother that she had always been in life. Not the woman she had become when she was dying.

She turned to her father. “I have very good news myself, Papa,” she said, her heart thumping hard. “The Earl of Carlisle and I have become very close. And now, he wishes to marry me. I am going to accept him. He will be calling upon you to ask for your permission very soon.”

Then she calmly picked up her spoon and started eating her soup again.

There was a stunned silence, broken only by the sound of Jane spooning up her soup. Her heart was racing now. She felt sick and giddy and elated. She had broken her vow, and the sky was not falling down. The earth had not opened beneath her. The world was still going on exactly as it always had.

“Well, this is a surprise,” said her father eventually, throwing down his napkin. “A great surprise! But one that fills me with joy, my dear daughter!”

“Oh, Jane,” breathed Marianne, her eyes shining with joy. “Oh, Sister! Congratulations!”

Jane turned to Lucy. The girl was so furious that her face had turned almost purple with rage. Without a word, she got up, leaving the room. The sound of the door slamming behind her reverberated in the room. Lucy had lost, and she didn’t like it one little bit. But Jane was past caring about that. She could only shake her head in wonder that she had allowed her cousin to manipulate this situation to the extent that she had almost lost the love of her life.

Lucy would get over it. And if she didn’t, well, that was none of Jane’s concern at all.

The next moment, Marianne was across the room, enveloping her in a fierce hug. Jane suddenly found that tears were running down her face again. But this time, she made no effort to wipe them away. Because these tears of joy were so much warmer running down her face than the tears of sorrow. And she wanted to remember them. Every single one.

***

They didn’t see Lucy again that evening—the girl had confined herself to her room. Later that evening, after the rest of them had retired after sitting in the parlour chatting about Jane’s future life as a married woman for hours, Jane stole out of the house. She was filled with elation and purpose, and she was at peace with the decision she had made, but there was one final thing she wished to do.

The lantern in her hand bobbed in the darkness, casting wan light on the path ahead. When she reached the church, she almost lost her courage. It looked so foreboding in the dark. There wasn’t a soul around. Taking a deep breath, she opened the church gate. It squeaked alarmingly.

The gravestones jutted up out of the earth. Jane knew her way well. She wove her way amongst them until she finally found the one she wanted. Settling the lantern down next to it, she reached out a hand, placing it on the cold stone.

“Mama, it is me,” she whispered. “I need to talk to you. I need to explain to you why I have done what I have done.”

There was a whisper of wind in the trees. Jane took a deep breath.

“I took my vow to you very seriously,” she continued, stroking the stone. “But it has caused me such sorrow and pain. I have found a man who loves me and whom I love. I know that he will never hurt me, nor cause me to regret my decision to love him. You do not need to worry about me anymore.” She paused, fighting back the tears. “I am sorry that you lived your life in sorrow, but I cannot live my life in sorrow as well. I hope that you understand…wherever you are.”

She took her hand away, trying to catch her breath. All was quiet. She saw the lights from ships in the far distance, sailing upon the sea. A feeling of deep peace settled within her. The vow was finally broken. And she was free. Free to love Percy with her whole heart. Free to live beside the man she loved, to welcome their children, to begin her life anew. The life that had always been her destiny.

She couldn’t wait.

She picked up the lantern, walking away. Just as she was opening the gate, she heard a slight rustle from above. She looked up. An owl was sitting on a branch, staring straight at her. It blinked its luminescent yellow eyes, then hooted.

The sound echoed in the night. Jane felt a chill all the way down her spine.

“Thank you, Mama,” she said, feeling a lump form in her throat.

Then she slipped through the gate and headed home.

***

Percy stood on the balcony at the lodging house, sipping a nightcap. He gazed out over the town. All was quiet. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jane and what she was going to do. Whether she would finally surrender to their love or whether it would all be too much for her.

When he had seen her walking up to Cliff Lodge today, he hadn’t known what to think. A part of him was so frustrated with her that he had to restrain himself from alternating between pleading and outright anger. But another, deeper part of him had been struck anew at the sight of her. The same feeling he always had when he saw her again for the first time after an absence. The feeling he recognised as being exactly the same as when he had first laid eyes upon her, if only he had been able to put a name to it.

The love of my life. The only woman I shall ever love. The one who has changed everything for me and has opened my eyes to a wonderful new world.

A wave of sorrow swept over him at the thought of living his life without her. But he would respect her decision. He finally knew why she had been so zealous about remaining a spinster. It wasn’t just a whim. It wasn’t capricious. It was an act of final love towards the woman who had borne her. It had been the last thread of connection to that woman. Could she let it go?

He thought of his own mother. He knew he would do the same thing if he was put in that position. Who wouldn’t want to give peace to a loved one in their final moments?

Then he thought about his father. The man who had coloured forever his own beliefs on love and marriage. It was no different to the vow Jane had made to her mother. He had lived his entire life based around his belief that romantic love was a terrible mistake.

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