Lips That Lied || hs

Fifty

London, United Kingdom
April 1852

As it turned out, James's patience was not strong enough for him to wait through the night to speak with his wife. He had tried to refrain until morning, but as he sat in his room after eating dinner on his own, his curiosity continued to pester him like a noisy fly that he just couldn't get rid of. He held off on drinking too, even though he would have liked to indulge himself, because deep down he knew that Jane would only consider telling him what she had to say if he were sober. Unfortunately for him though, his sobriety only fed his impatience, until at some point, his buzzing curiosity could no longer be tamed.

The whole house was presumably asleep when James left his room to find Jane's. When he reached the door, he spotted a tiny sliver of light illuminating the doorframe and splashing against the floor, which made him think that Jane was still awake. Relieved that he wouldn't have to rouse her from sleep, James softly knocked on the heavy, wooden surface, then pushed the door open moments later. He did so slowly, so as not to frighten her, but despite his efforts, when he entered the room, he found her staring at him in utter surprise.

Jane was sat on the bed, a few candles surrounding her as she read the rather thick book she had propped up against her thighs. Her long, rippling hair cascaded down over her breasts, which were only just covered by the sheer nightgown she wore. Because James hadn't seen her so exposed to him in quite some time, he found himself staring at her for not much more than a few moments before shifting his eyes elsewhere. It was clear that his gaze had made Jane uncomfortable, and though her discomfort annoyed him, he did not wish to worsen it. It was far too late for either of them to begin quarreling.

Doing her best to cover herself, Jane held her book to her chest and quietly asked, "Can I help you with something?"

"Yes," James said curtly, shutting the door behind him. "I'd like to know why your grandparents want to see you."

Jane's eyes widened and she gasped quietly to herself, "Oh, okay. You can, um, you can sit down over on the couch. I just need to find my robe."

James stood in his place for a few moments, but when Jane did not move, he realized that until he went to the other side of the room, she would not be getting out of bed. Bowing his head, James crossed the room into the shadows and sat down on one of the couches near the dying embers in the fireplace. His eyes flickered to where Jane was on the other side of the room, and suddenly, he realized why she had tried to hide herself from him. As she climbed from the bed, James saw for the first time, evidence that Jane really was carrying his child inside her. Because of the thin fabric of her dressing gown, James could make out her silhouette in the candlelight, and what he saw made him more nervous than he had a reason to be.

The swell of Jane's belly was not yet great enough to be too noticeable in her everyday clothing; however, in her nightgown, it was not so easily concealed. Though the few moments he saw of her were brief, James easily saw that his wife was changing more quickly than he had realized. Had it really been so long since he had learned of her condition? The weeks seemed to bleed together so seamlessly that now, James was genuinely unsure of how long he had even been in London at all. Regardless of how long he had been there, James was very well aware that the time past meant that his life would soon change in a very unignorable way. Once Jane had his child, he would be a father, and despite his marital status, that was something that James was not at all prepared for, nor was he looking forward to.

Turning his eyes promptly away, James waited for Jane to join him. When she did finally take a seat across from him, he saw that she now wore a robe that covered herself rather well. In truth, James was grateful for it, because then he wouldn't need to think of what she now represented to him. He could focus on his in-laws' scheming, and that to him was much less stressful than the other.