Chapter 5 #2
“Why is such a thing so bad?” Jane asked, heart heavy. “Grandmother looked after you.”
Grandfather shook his head. “She and I looked after each other. And we did not have a peaceful life at first—our families were furious with us, and we had to weather that, and find a way to live, and raise our children. It weren’t no easy matter, my girl, but that is the point.
Life is complicated. It’s hard, hard work.
So many try to find a path around that, but though that path might look clear, it can be full of misery.
You sit helplessly while things happen around you instead of grabbing your life by the horns and shaking it about.
Happiness is worth the trouble, the difficult choices, the path full of brambles.
Do not sit and let things flow by you, Jane.
You deserve much more than that. Take your happiness, my love. Do not let this moment pass.”
Jane sat silently. She felt limp, drained—had since she’d told John they could never be married. She thought she’d feel freedom once she’d been truthful with John, as Spencer had told her she would, but at present, Jane only wanted to curl up and weep.
“But I could misstep,” she said. “I could charge down the difficult path and take a brutal tumble.”
“That you could. And then you rise up and try again. Or you could huddle by the wayside and let happiness slip past. If you don’t grab joy while you can, you might not have another chance.”
Jane’s heart began to beat more strongly. “I am a woman. I must be prudent. A man who falls can be helped up by his friends. A woman who falls is ostracized by hers.”
Grandfather shook his head. “Only if those friends are scoundrels. I imagine your family would stand by you no matter what happened. I know I would.” He raised his hands, palms facing her.
“But you are worrying because you’ve been taught to worry.
Do you truly believe Ingram is a hardened roué?
With a string of broken hearts and ruined women behind him?
We’d have heard about such things. Barnett would have told us—you know how much he loves to gossip.
And he wouldn’t have brought Captain Ingram home to you and your mum and dad if he thought the man a bad ’un, would he? ”
Jane had to concede. “I suppose not …”
“Your dad knows everyone in England, and he’s no fool. He’d have heard of Ingram’s reputation if the man had a foul one, and he’d have never let him inside. It’s harder than you’d think to be a secret rake in this country. Someone will know, and feel no remorse spreading the tale.”
Jane didn’t answer. Everything Grandfather said was reasonable. Still, she’d seen what happened when a woman married badly—she found herself saddled with an insipid, feckless man who did nothing but disgrace his family and distress his friends.
The man John could so easily become …
“Spencer Ingram seems a fine enough lad to me,” Grandfather went on. “Family’s respectable too, from what I hear. Besides, Ingram is a good Scottish name.”
“Of course.” Jane gave a shaky laugh. “That is why you like him.”
“One of the reasons. There are many others.” Grandfather jumped to his feet. “What are you waiting for, Janie? Your happiness walked in the door last night. Go to it—go to him.”
“I don’t regret telling John I will never marry him,” Jane said with conviction. “And I suppose you’re right. I won’t send Captain Ingram away, or push him aside because I’m mortified. He will be visiting a while longer. We can get to know each other, and perhaps …”
Her words faded as Grandfather snorted. “Get to know each other? Perhaps? Have you heard nothing I’ve said?” His eyes flashed. “You are trying to make things comfortable again, which means pushing aside decisions, waiting for things to transpire instead of forcing them to.”
He pointed imperiously at the door. “Out you go, Jane. Now. Find Captain Ingram. Tell him you will marry him. No thinking it over, or lying awake pondering choices, or waiting to see what happens. Go to him this instant.”
Jane rose, her heart pounding. “I can’t tell him I’ll marry him, Grandfather. He hasn’t asked me.”
“Then ask him. Your grandmother did me. She tired of me shillyshallying. So she stepped up and told me I either married her, or she walked away and looked for someone else.”
Jane covered her fears with a laugh. She could picture Maggie MacDonald doing just that. “But I am not Grandmother.”
Grandfather’s eyes softened. “Oh, yes, you are. You are so like her, Janie, you don’t realize. Her spitting image when she was young, and you have her spirit. She knew it too.” Tears beaded on his lashes. “I miss her so.”
“Oh, Grandfather.” Janie launched herself at him, enfolding him into her arms. Grandfather rested his head on her shoulder, a fragile old man, his bones too light.
After a time, they pushed away from each other, both trying to smile.
“Go to him, Janie,” Grandfather said. “For her sake.”
Jane kissed his faded cheek and spun for the door. As she turned to close it behind her, she saw Grandfather’s tears flow unchecked down his face, he wiping them away with a fold of his plaid.