CHAPTER FOUR

Over dinner that evening, Jane learned that the "important business" Larkin had been attending to in her absence was planning their wedding. His wealth and her more humble upbringing seemed to show as he explained to her the plans. Talk of ordering a dress for Jane from Paris, and a suit for Larkin from the most well respected retailer in London seemed to go over her head. Her father made money in his profession - and her mother had made an income as a seamstress in her time - but grandeur of this caliber was foreign still.

At the dinner table with them wereLarkin's parents and his sister, Clara. Jane had always been fond of Clara since they met at the beginning of her and Larkin's courtship. Whereas Larkin was clearly a wealthy man in his demeanor, Clara was more subdued, and you could not immediately determine her wealth. She did not seem caught up in money and extravagant holiday villas in the Mediterranean like Larkin and his parents.

Jane always felt a bit out of place in Larkin's house. It was so different from her own. Her own house was cozy, and not too large, but large enough to not be cramped. Larkin's house, in contradiction, was enormous - with fine, dark wooden and linoleum floors, high arching ceilings, and ornate, sparkling chandeliers that looked as if they belonged in Buckingham a Palace. She felt somehow unqualified to be here; unworthy of sitting in the mahogany dining room chairs with velvet cushions, far too commonplace to be sipping water from real crystal glasses and eating dinner off of plates shipped all the way from a shop in a large American city.

"I'm ever so pleased to see you two engaged," Larkin's father, Victor, said. He too was a doctor, and was the spitting image of Larkin, albeit with grey hair, not blonde. "We want you two to have a wedding that you'll remember for the rest of your lives - no corners will be cut here. Only the finest for Larkin and his fiancé."

"Oh, yes," agreed Larkin's mother, Abigail. "And, we have some news for you, Jane."

"More news?" inquired Jane, not knowing what they could possibly be springing on her now.

"Of course. Once you're married, we can't very well having you living at home here, and - as nice as it is," Abigail said, "We can't have you two live in the Porter family home." Jane was slightly hurt by this remark. Her family home was lovely, and well worn, but well worn with love.

"So," the father continued, "We've purchased a house a few streets away for you - on Chapel Lane West."

Jane's eyes widened at this. Chapel Lane West had some of the most expensive property in the whole city of London. "Sir, Mr. Edwards, I'm sorry," she sputtered, "But there's no way I can afford to help pay for a house there. My father is a professor, but his income doesn't allow for such a grand expense, nor does mine as a research assistant in the botany laboratories there."

Both of Larkin's parents smiled. "Oh, dear, no - the house is paid for in full already. You needn't worry at all."

Jane didn't know what to say, as no one had ever offered her such a gift before in her life. All she could muster was a quiet but appreciative, "Thank you." She cast a glance towards Clara, who had been quiet for most of the dinner, as Larkin and his parents talked and gushed all about the wedding plans they had made. Jane could see Clara, her head tilted downwards, staring at her plate - but not seeming too interested in what was on it. She was quiet.

The meal that night was lovely, but it was getting late, and Jane needed to be going home. Larkin walked her back, despite her insistence that she would be fine alone. She came in quietly, and went to her room immediately, closing the door softly behind her. She practically fell into her bed, feeling overwhelmed and trapped and confused. She could not possibly accept all of these things being given to her, but what choice did she have?

—

Despite having seen nothing since the day the Porter's left, Tarzan returned, day after day, without fail, to the beach. He squinted at the horizon, trying to make out any sign of unusual activity, or a ship. This day, much like every one before it, yielded nothing. He feared he would never see anything.

Though, if they returned one day, he was unsure as to how he would feel. Jane had left for the civilization that she had always known - and seemed to love. If she came back, would she want him to be civilized too? He shuddered at the thought of a life of confining clothing and formality, even in the jungle.

He fervently believed that Jane belonged here, in the jungle, with him. He had seen, with his own two eyes, how she had come to life the more time she spent here. Her quiet, shy exterior had been slowly peeled away, only to reveal an adventurous, daring woman who trusted him and wanted to know about his world. How could she possibly belong back in England? How?

Regardless of that, even if she did come back one day, Jane had left once before. What would stop her from leaving again and ripping this metaphorical wound open again? She had left once, and if she loved him - wouldn't she have stayed? He did not know. He didn't know how to feel about any of it. None of this made sense - all he knew was that it hurt.