Chapter 10 – A Long Night at an Inn

Edward stared glumly out the window of his room at the inn, his eyes unseeing, his mind fixed on two alternating thoughts. Would she come? And, how could he go on if she did not? He had suffered such intense despair all those months when he believed he could never be with Jane, but to find himself finally free of Bertha, finally able to approach Jane honestly and openly, only to have her reject his love … how could he survive losing her for a second, final, time? He tried to remain hopeful – perhaps he had gotten through to her, perhaps she did love him at least enough to give him a chance, perhaps even now she was on her way to the inn to tell him yes, yes, she did love him, yes she would marry him, yes she would always be his. But then he remembered the look of horror on her face when he finally confessed and told her all, and his heart sank. No. She would not come. She was too repulsed by the truth of what he was and what he had done. If she had ever felt anything at all for him he had killed it by telling her the truth. She would not come and it was over for him.

Edward turned away from the window and slowly walked through the room. What was the point in staying here any longer? Of course Jane would never come to give him her answer, to tell him she loved him and would be his. He was a fool to believe that she could ever love him. Of course she had never loved him, would never love him. No one ever had. No. He would not stay. He would tell the innkeeper he was leaving, pay his bill and then come upstairs, pack up his belongings and take the next coach to London.

Just then there was a low, tentative knock at the door.

Startled, he quickly walked to the door and flung it open.

There she was. His Jane.

Edward just stood there, afraid to move, afraid to speak. All he could do was just stare at Jane. Her cheeks were rosy both from the walk in the cold and the intensity of her emotions. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

They just stared at each other for several long moments. Finally he spoke, his voice trembling slightly. "Jane! I … I … I'm so glad you've come. Please, come by the fire and get warm."

She entered, silently, and walked towards the fireplace. Edward closed the door then turned and watched, transfixed, as she removed her gloves and bonnet and placed them on the table. Next she took off her coat and draped it on the back of a chair. Still silent, Jane stood before the fire, looking down at the flames, her hands outstretched. After a few minutes of silence, with the crackling of the burning wood the only sound in the room, Jane turned to face him.

He held his breath. What had she come to say?

Finally Jane spoke. In a low, shy voice she said, "Sir, I've come to tell you what I've decided."

Torn between hope and fear Edward blurted out, "Jane, please, for God's sake, call me Edward. At least this once."

Jane hesitated, a smile forming on her lips. "If you insist, sir, I mean … Edward." She blushed intensely and then in a voice so low he had to strain to hear her, whispered, "Edward, I've come to tell you that I accept your proposal. Yes, I will marry you."

At first Edward was too shocked, too overwhelmed with joy to react. Then he rushed towards Jane and swept her up in his arms. Holding her tightly he whispered, "Jane! Jane! You have made me the happiest man in the world. Oh Jane, I love you so."

He pulled back a bit so he could see her face for a moment, then he closed his eyes and kissed her, slowly and gently brushing his lips against hers. At first Jane didn't respond, then as she began to kiss him back, her hands moved up his chest to his shoulders. Then, suddenly, she gently but firmly pushed him away, breaking their kiss. Immediately he opened his eyes, breathing quickly and heavily, and looked at her questioningly and a little afraid, wondering why she had stopped. When he opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, Jane surprised him by reaching up and lightly laying the fingers of her right hand on his lips, silencing him. Then she placed her hands on his face and gently stroked his cheeks. Unable to move, his heart pounding so hard it made it difficult for him to breathe, Edward just looked down at her, waiting. Looking intently into his eyes, she smiled and said, "Oh, Edward, I love you so very much and I have loved you for such a very long time. I love you with all my heart. My whole heart belongs to you. I belong to you, my love. You and only you. Always." Then she pulled his head down towards her and gently, sweetly, kissed his mouth. Thrilled and deeply moved, Edward held her even more tightly than before, relishing the sensation of feeling her slender body pressed against his, and kissed her fervently. Then Jane opened her mouth and as he gently eased his tongue inside he felt such an overwhelming surge of love and joy that he momentarily feared he might faint. Finally. Finally. Jane loved him, wanted him. They would be married as soon as possible and then she would be finally, completely, absolutely and always his and his alone.

Suddenly there was a loud crash …

Edward jerked awake. The glass had fallen out of his hand and crashed, breaking, on the floor, splashing port on the cuffs of his trousers and his shoes. Disoriented, he sat up straight and looked around. He was sitting in the chair before the fire, which had burned down low. All the candles had gone out and the room was very dark. Taking deep breaths as he waited for his furiously pounding heart to normalize its beat, he rubbed his eyes and ran his hands through his hair. Suddenly cold, he stood up, stretched and walked the few steps to the grate. Edward placed some wood on the fire, tended it, then when the fire had come back to life he lit a candle. The normally noisy inn was silent, so he knew that it was long past midnight.

Completely depressed, Edward began to slowly remove his clothes. He had waited all afternoon, then all evening for Jane, alternating between hope and despair. He had spent the hours pacing back and forth in his room, then going downstairs to pace directly in front of the inn, afraid to go far because he might miss Jane, then coming back up to pace some more, looking out of the window constantly. After he had come downstairs for the tenth time the innkeeper began to look at him as though he thought Edward were insane. But he didn't care. He was in such a fever of nervous anticipation and anxiety he had to do something; it was impossible for him to sit still for more than a few minutes at a time. His appetite gone, Edward had eaten nothing all day.

As the hours slowly crept by he had become more and more despondent. He couldn't stop replaying his conversation with Jane in his mind, and as he remembered how horrified Jane had looked as he told her first about Bertha and then about his insane plan to marry her, he began to lose the little hope he had been desperately clinging to all day. Even so, when night fell and it was obvious that Jane would not come, Edward was still reluctant to go to bed for fear that Jane might arrive at any moment to give him her answer. So he had stayed up, dressed, until past midnight, until he had finally fallen asleep from exhaustion.

As he lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, intensely miserable, he thought about his dream. It had been so intense, so real, that he could hardly believe it had not actually taken place, that Jane had not come, that he had not held her in his arms and felt her heart beating fast and strong against his as they kissed, as she told him that she loved him and would be his. As he replayed his dream he experienced such an intense longing for Jane, for her presence, for the sound of her voice, for her touch, that he could hardly breathe. Anguished, he wondered how he was going to bear going through the rest of his life without her.