Jane Vows Vengeance (34 page)

“Wait a minute!” Byron said.

Jane and Walter looked at him.

“Those are your vows? Really?” He huffed and rolled his eyes. “And you call yourself a writer,” he said to Jane.

“They’re traditional,” Jane said defensively.

“They’re
dull
,” said Byron. “Just a moment. Who has a pen?”

Miriam produced a pen from her bag and handed it to him. Byron removed a train ticket stub from his coat pocket and began to write on it. He paused a moment, closing his eyes and tapping the pen against his forehead.

“What
are
you doing?” Jane asked, growing annoyed.

“Quiet!” Byron ordered. “I’m trying to think.”

He scribbled some more on the ticket and set it aside. Then he searched his pockets and came up with another piece of paper, this one a crumpled sales receipt for a box of cough drops. He smoothed it out and once more set to writing. When he was done he handed the train ticket to Walter and the receipt to Jane.

“There you are,” he said. “Now proceed.”

Walter peered closely at the train ticket. “I, Walter, take you, Jane, as my beloved wife and friend. As we walk this world together I promise to guard your heart from despair and worry. I will be your champion and rejoice in your accomplishments as if they are my own. When you laugh I will laugh with you, and when you cry I will kiss away your tears. Something about a white-winged dove.”

“Not that bit,” Byron called out. “It was just an idea. Sorry. Should have excised it.”

“I will be your constant companion until the end of this world and the beginning of the next,” Walter concluded.

Jane, who was trying very hard not to cry, sniffed. “I, Jane, take you, Walter, as my beloved husband and friend. I promise to make our journey together one of adventure and discovery. Every morning I will wake beside you, and every night I will go to sleep in your arms. My dreams will be yours, and yours mine.” She choked up a little, and Walter squeezed her hand. “I will be your true love and heart’s east—”

“Ease!” Byron shouted. “His heart’s ease!” He shook his head. “I give up!”

“Your true love and your heart’s ease until the end of this world and the beginning of the next,” she concluded.

“I believe there are rings to be exchanged,” said Ben.

“Yes, there are,” said Lucy. “Sorry. I forgot all about them.”

She got up and came forward. She handed one ring to Walter and one to Jane. Walter held Jane’s hand as he slid his ring onto her finger, and then Jane did the same with her ring.

“Now that you have stood before us and exchanged these rings and these vows, it is my great pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife,” Ben said.

To much applause, Walter kissed Jane. Then, not knowing what else to do, he kissed her again. Moments later they were surrounded by their friends, being hugged and kissed all around.

“That was quite nice,” Prince Edward said to the First Duke of York.

“But not quite as thrilling as a beheading,” said Richard.

“Well, no, not quite
that
nice,” agreed his brother.

“I’m not sure what we do now,” Jane said after she’d run out of people to hug. “Shall we go to breakfast?”

“I think tradition dictates that you leave for your honeymoon,” William suggested.

Jane looked at Walter. “But we haven’t really planned any—”

“Actually, I had an idea,” Walter said.

Jane looked around her bedroom. “It looks very much the same,” she told Walter.

Chawton Cottage was quite crowded. Walter and Jane had arrived at the same time as a tour group from the United States, and as they walked through the rooms of Jane’s old home they were constantly competing with ladies dressed in period costumes clutching bags from the gift shop.

“Too bad you’re not getting a piece of this action,” Walter said.

“I know,” said Jane. “Can you imagine what we could make on this pile if we turned it into a bed and breakfast? Everyone would want to sleep in my bed.”

“Hey,” Walter said. “I’m the only one who gets to sleep in your bed.”

Jane laughed. “Let’s go out into the garden,” she suggested.

It was raining lightly, enough to keep most visitors inside the house but not so heavy that being outdoors was unpleasant. The grass was green, and the yard was coming alive with bluebells and violets. Jane and Walter sat down on a bench and enjoyed the quiet.

“I used to sit here quite a lot,” Jane said. “Particularly when something in a plot was vexing me. I’d sit here and look for pictures in the clouds or in the stars. Almost always I would come away with a clear head and my problem solved.”

“It must be strange seeing people going through your house,” said Walter.

“A bit, yes,” Jane agreed. “But it’s not my house any longer. It belongs to them, really. They’re the reason people still know who I am.”

“I can’t believe you wrote all of your novels on that little desk,”
Walter said. “And by
hand
. I think most writers today would give up if they didn’t have computers.”

“It certainly made me think good and hard about what I wanted to say before committing the words to the page,” Jane said. “And it was hell on the eyes.”

“We’ll have a proper honeymoon later,” Walter said. “I just thought this would nice to have a few days on our own before we head back.”

Jane sighed. “We’re going to have to have a wedding all over again,” she said. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

Walter took her hand. “This time we’ll let Lucy and my mother handle everything,” he said. “We had the wedding we wanted.”

“Was it really the wedding you wanted?” Jane asked him.

“You were there,” said Walter. “That’s all I wanted.”

“Byron’s rubbing off on you, I see,” Jane said, kissing him on the cheek.

“Nope. I came up with that all on my own,” said Walter. “Besides, it’s true. You’re all I ever wanted.”

“We’ll see if you say that when the honeymoon is over,” Jane said.

Walter was quiet for a minute, then said, “Where do you think Char—Our Gloomy Friend went?”

Jane smiled. “You catch on quick,” she said. “And I don’t know. She has a way of disappearing and then popping up again when it’s most inconvenient.”

“Do you think she’ll try to use the fake Needle?”

“Not before she tricks some other poor sucker into trying it first,” Jane answered. “She’s many things, but she’s no fool. She won’t try it on herself until she knows it works.”

“Which means someone else will die,” Walter said.

“That’s if she even bothers,” said Jane. “I believe what she said about only wanting it so that no one else could have it. She’s
a terribly unhappy person. I’m sure that’s why her writing is so dreary.”

“You just couldn’t let that one get by, could you?” Walter said.

“Sorry,” said Jane. “I know it’s an awful habit.”

“And Joshua?” Walter said.

“Oh, I imagine he’ll go back to doing whatever it was he was doing in the first place,” Jane said. “Something tedious I …” She stopped without finishing the thought.

“What?” asked Walter.

Jane turned to him. “It just occurred to me. We never did encounter the Tedious Three, and nobody we know has ever seen them. I wonder if Joshua could be … He certainly fits the tedious bit to a tee. But no, that would be too peculiar. Still, odder things have happened.”

“How about we leave that mystery for another day?” Walter suggested.

“You’re right,” said Jane. “This is all about us.”

The rain began to fall harder, but still they didn’t move. Walter put his arm around Jane’s shoulders, and she laid her head against his neck. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine herself being any happier than she was at that moment. And she couldn’t.

Brakeston, New York

J
ANE GRIPPED
W
ALTER
’
S HAND AND SQUEEZED IT SO HARD THAT HE
yelped.

“Suck it up!” she said through gritted teeth. “It’s nothing compared to what’s taking place down below.”

Lucy held the cup of ice chips to Jane’s mouth, and Jane sucked a few in. “What I really want is a rare steak,” Jane said.

The midwife, peering between Jane’s legs, said, “It won’t be much longer now.”

Jane growled in response as another contraction came.

The bedroom door opened and Byron stuck his head in. He wore a gold cardboard crown with
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
spelled out in red glitter, and in his hand was a glass of champagne. Behind him, William looked over his shoulder.

“Are we too late?” Byron asked.

“No,” said Walter. “She hasn’t popped yet.”

“This is so exciting,” said Byron, coming into the already crowded room. “I’ve never been to a birth before.”

“Probably because you always left the women when they became pregnant,” Jane snarled.

“There’s no need to be insulting,” said Byron, lifting the sheet and looking beneath it.

“Do you mind?” the midwife said, giving him a disapproving look.

Byron made a face. “I’d forgotten what they look like,” he said. He turned to William. “It just occurred to me—you’re going to be a grandfather!”

“And you a fairy godfather,” he said.

The door opened again and Miriam appeared. She pushed between Byron and William. “Is it a boy or a girl?” she asked.

Jane replied by groaning loudly and uttering some not entirely pleasant words.

“The great reveal has yet to occur,” Byron informed Miriam, who rolled her eyes.

The midwife stood up. “I’m going to go get some more towels,” she said. She pointed at Jane. “Don’t have this baby until I get back.”

“Don’t worry,” Byron told her. “If she does, we’ll just pop it back in and she’ll do it all over again so you don’t miss anything.”

The midwife shook her head and left the room. As the contractions had stopped for the moment, Jane lay back against the pillows and breathed in short, even bursts.

“How is the party?” she heard Lucy ask.

“Wonderful,” Byron answered. “When you’re done here you should all come over.”

Jane opened one eye and fixed him with a stare. “By all means,” she said. “There’s nothing I would like more right now than to jump about with a noisemaker and toast the new year.”

“Oh, do you want some?” Byron asked, holding out the champagne flute.

“No, I do not want any!” Jane bellowed. She followed this with a wild yell. “What I want is for this child to come out now!”

The midwife returned, her arms loaded with towels.

“It’s still in there,” Byron assured her.

“Not for much longer,” said the midwife, assessing the situation. “Jane, are you ready?”

“No,” Jane said. “I’ve changed my mind. I think we’ll just wait a bit if nobody minds.”

“Push!” the midwife commanded as a contraction hit.

Jane obliged, nearly cracking the fingers of Walter’s hand in the process.

“Again!” said the midwife.

Jane heard Walter’s voice in her ear. “You’re about to be a mother,” he said gently.

Jane pushed.

The room was silent for what seemed an eternity. Then a baby’s cry filled the air, followed by cheering.

“It’s a girl,” Jane heard the midwife say.

Walter kissed Jane’s forehead as everyone else crowded around the midwife and the baby.

“She’s beautiful,” Lucy said. “Just beautiful.”

“Looks a bit like Churchill,” Byron added. “Without the cigar.”

“Hello, little one,” said William.

“I’m a grandmother,” Miriam announced. “Finally!”

“Excuse me,” Jane said. “I know this is terribly thrilling for everyone, but might I have a look at my daughter?”

The midwife brought the baby over and handed her to Jane. Jane was almost afraid to take her, but her instincts overcame her nervousness and she accepted the child into her arms.

“Hello, baby,” she said, looking into her daughter’s eyes. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”

The baby wrinkled her nose and squirmed, her tiny arms waving. Her mouth opened and closed, making a popping sound.

“You should feed her as soon as possible,” the midwife said to Jane.

Jane looked at all of the faces staring at her. “This isn’t a girlie show!” she said. “Everybody out. You can come back in a bit.”

“We’ll be right outside,” Lucy said as she herded the others out of the room. “I’ll call Ben and tell him and Sarah the good news.”

Alone with Walter and their child, Jane held the baby to her breast. At first the little girl pushed away, twisting her face up and mewling like a kitten. But Jane kept bringing her back, and finally her lips closed around Jane’s nipple and she began sucking.

“Can you believe it?” Walter said. “We’re parents.”

“And ten minutes ago we were just people,” said Jane.

Walter laughed. He stroked Jane’s hair and watched the baby feed. “When do you think we’ll know?” he asked Jane.

Jane shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “This is new for me too.”

In the days since the wedding, the question of whether or not Jane had used Crispin’s Needle had come up several times. Each time she had deflected the question and it had gone unanswered, until finally people had stopped asking her.

The truth was, she had not used the Needle. But she still had it, sitting in its black velvet box in the top drawer of her bureau. Like Walter and Jane, it was waiting for the birth of the baby.