Lips That Lied || hs

Sixteen

Newcastle, United Kingdom
October 1851

Steam billowed from the hot, fiery furnace of the train in a swirling cloud of charcoal-stained smoke. The steel giant plowed through the pouring rain, its engine chugging along the track with a vengeful consistency. Heat radiated from its iron frame, providing a stark contrast from the cold, wet atmosphere that surrounded it. As the train pulled into the station, its gears ground to halt and the breaks squealed in combination with the high-pitched whistle that signaled the locomotive's arrival in Newcastle.

Harry reclined in his compartment and stared through the glass that separated him from the outside world. The sun had long since crossed over the horizon, and the rain still poured. Discouraged by these dark and dismal surroundings, Harry could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of apprehension for the coming days. His mission was to inform the Pelhams of James's poor character, but he dreaded his inevitable reunion with Jane. Seeing her would just recall to him the pain he had felt when Regina had announced that the girl he loved would be marrying another. He feared feeling that pain again.

With a sigh, Harry rose from his seat on the train and moved towards the exit. Despite the lateness of the hour and the dreadful weather outside, the platform was filled with weary travelers and even wearier railway employees. Harry's attention was immediately captured by a tall, brawny man who called out for him above the chatter of the people and the metallic groaning of the trains. Striding towards him, Harry pushed through the crowd of people and met the man with a handshake and an inquiry regarding the plan for their journey to Clumber Park.

Because of the poor weather, Harry was forced to stay the night in town. The man whose name was Steven led Harry to a rather plain tavern at which they would find a hot meal as well as lodgings for the evening. Harry couldn't sleep that night, due to the ever-intensifying feeling of dread that had settled over him like an immovable, misty shroud. He tossed and turned restlessly in his bed, vainly grasping for just a moment of rest, but no matter how hard he tried, Harry could not control his racing mind. It was all because of Jane, and that upset him.

The night was soon overcome by the morning sun, and for the first time in several days, the rains ceased. Harry and Steven set out for Clumber Park at a leisurely pace, but despite the easygoing feel of the morning, Harry was nervous beyond words. And though initially the whether was somewhat nice, dark storm clouds soon set in to accompany Harry's restless mood. It was cruel, really, that the rain should fall on them that day, for it did nothing but add to the length of their journey as well as the solemnity of it.

Before long, the pair of men passed through the outer gates of the great Pelham estate, and as beautiful as the place was, Harry could see none of it through the densely falling rain. As they plunged further into the estate, the rain finally began to let up, and soon enough, there arose a structure in the distance that appeared to be a barn. Harry wouldn't have even noticed it at all, but out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a flash of movement that caught his attention.

There in the distance, Harry could just make out the silhouette of a figure on a horse, riding rather furiously through the pouring rain. Though Harry had no explanation to support the invasive thoughts that entered his mind in that moment, he could not help but succumb to the feeling deep within his chest that told him just who this mysterious rider was. But even if it was Jane as he suspected, could he possibly justify pursuing her now with Steven in the carriage with him?

"No," Harry thought. "I have one purpose here, and it's not to follow my own passions. I mustn't do anything to show her favor."

Shaking his head in an effort to dismiss the apparent effect Jane had on him, Harry turned his face from the window and returned his attention to the leather-bound book in his hands. It had been sitting open on his lap for nearly two hours, but he still hadn't scarcely read a chapter. His eyes scanned the page for some familiar paragraph to resume his place, but he found that whatever he had read during that particular trip hadn't made an impression in his mind. Harry huffed in frustration and shut the book between his hands, once again returning his gaze towards the rainy scene beyond the glass pane of the window.