Lips That Lied || hs

Twenty

Newcastle, United Kingdom
October 1851

Henry was fuming as he silently watched his granddaughter leave his study, evidently in tears. He felt guilty over speaking to her so harshly, but no amount of sympathy could distract from the burning anger that consumed him. Why was Jane so insistent upon getting out of this marriage, and more importantly, who had told her the truth about her parents' sinful past?

Taking a seat at his desk, Henry wearily reclined in his chair. "Who could have told her, Regina? No one outside the family knows, so it had to have been one of us."

Regina wondered the same thing, though as she thought back on any circumstances that might provide an explanation, she quickly came to a conclusion on how it had happened.

"Oh, God..." she muttered to herself, staring down at the floor. Henry looked up at her expectantly, to which Regina responded by walking over to the liquor cabinet and pouring she and her husband a drink. She handed him the glass as she took a sip of the foul liquid from her own glass, sighing in pleasure as it burned at her throat.

"It was Andrew," she said at last, taking a seat in the chair across from her husband's desk. "She visited him yesterday morning, so it had to have been him."

Henry was not quick to believe her. Looking at his wife skeptically, Henry took a sip of liquor and placed the glass down in front of him. "Surely not; Andrew would never betray us like that. And besides, he was the one who separated Victoria and Thomas in first place."

Regina shook her head, dismissing Henry's good opinion of his son, "No, it was him. I didn't say anything and if you didn't, then there is no other option. She was with William yesterday, but he doesn't know either, so it had to have been Andrew."

"But why would he tell her now? After all this time, what's the point?"

"I don't know," Regina sighed and furrowed her brow. "That's what's frustrating me. She was so determined to get out of this; it reminds me of when Victoria was betrothed to that old man years ago. I had thought that finding Jane someone young and handsome would have pacified her, but now with this, I'm worried that she's going to try to run."

Henry laughed, genuinely surprised by his wife's words. "Don't be silly; Jane doesn't have the resolve her mother did, nor does she have it in her to betray us in that way. She's too good."

Regina looked up at him in surprise. How could he be so blind?

"She's changed, Henry." Regina drained the rest of her drink and shivered. "I don't know how or why, but something has changed within her; she's not as complacent as she used to be."

"How so?"

Aggravated with thoughts of her granddaughter's indecency, Regina restlessly stood from her seat and went to stand by the window. "Well, for starters, no matter how many times I tell her not to, she won't stop being an insufferable flirt with the Sinclair boy."

Frowning, Henry nodded, "I have noticed that, but I don't think they spend enough time together for it to be an issue. However changed you say she is, I don't think she would dare to break a well-known arrangement over some crush."

Regina rolled her eyes, "Little girls are fools in love. Don't be so naive as to ignore that. We've made that mistake once before."

Anger flashed in Henry's clear blue eyes as his wife insulted him and once again brought up the reminder of his past failure. "This isn't like last time. I hardly think a few encounters at a ball could render her so foolishly in love as you suggest."

"If it had been merely a few encounters, I would agree with you, but their acquaintance has surpassed what could ever be appropriate. Have you forgotten her birthday celebration, Henry? How she paraded amongst our friends with that pitiful boy on her arm?" Regina shuddered at the thought of a family member of hers with such a person. "He may be handsome, but he is still a Frenchman by blood- and an untitled one at that. She has shown him favor in many public settings, and I will not tolerate it any longer."