Chapter Twenty-one
JONATHAN HAD EXPECTED to remain in the country until the end of January, returning to London for the commencement of parliament.
His hopes for the future turned to ashes a few days after Jane’s departure from Everslie Park, when the mail arrived, bringing two letters.
The first was from his friend in the foreign office who reported that Charlotte’s husband’s regiment was indeed bound for India and would leave immediately after Christmas.
If the officer was not on board, he would be court-martialed and could cause no trouble to anyone afterward.
The second letter came from Jane, confirming she was breaking their engagement and his heart along with it.
He hoped Aunt Lucinda had the good sense not to congratulate him on his narrow escape from marriage with an unsuitable party.
Remaining politely amused by such a performance from her would be too hard for him to achieve.
Despite Jane’s request, he decided not to put a notice in the newspaper for now. That would be too final.
Still he hoped there was some way of persuading her to reconsider.
He might have a better chance if he were in London, where they would meet occasionally, if only by accident through friends.
The next morning his carriage stood before Everslie Park ready to take the siblings back to London. The mail arrived as they stepped into the carriage ready to leave. It brought another letter from Jane. He opened it once they departed.
This one told of Mrs. Courtice’s death, her will, and Jane’s good fortune. The folded paper slid from his numb fingers. Jane’s financial salvation meant his complete excision from her life. His chest tightened with the bleakness of his dashed hopes.
Elizabeth must have seen his change of demeanor, because she put her hand on his arm and asked what was the matter.
“Bad news followed by good, really,” he answered. “Mrs. Courtice has passed away, leaving Jane a bequest. Her future is secure, as are those of her sisters.”
“I am so pleased to hear of Jane’s good fortune, but to lose Mrs. Courtice is awful. I shall miss her kindness. It must be what Marcus has written me.” She waved an unopened letter in her hand that Jonathan hadn’t noticed until then.
Elizabeth broke open the seal and scanned the page. Expecting sadness on her face, Jonathan was intrigued to see it light up. “Oh, Jonathan, as you say, good news with bad! Marcus has received a bequest from Mrs. Courtice as well!”
“Has he indeed?”
“Twenty thousand pounds!”
“Mrs. Courtice knew how to fulfil the dreams of her friends and allies,” Jonathan remarked dryly. And dash the hopes of a Marquess.
“Now there can be no financial impediment to our marriage, surely?”
A faint smile briefly lit his features. “Not from my point of view.”
“Thank you, Jonathan.” Her joyful look showed that not only was she hopeful Logan could no longer feel that his lack of money was an impediment to their marriage, but also that Jonathan was forgiven for his interference.
“You still need to wait to the end of the Season before an engagement announcement,” he added as a caution.
“Of course. You and I have an agreement. I won’t go back on it.”
The good news had put Elizabeth into what Jonathan deemed a joyful haze, and she lapsed into daydreaming.
He was left with his own thoughts, which were bleak. There was little hope of his ever successfully wooing Jane now. She had more than enough friends, family, and causes to fill her waking life from here to eternity. Where could he fit into that life? Nowhere, it seemed.
The journey back to London through the winter landscape was interminable to Jonathan.
It had never been so before. It had always been accompanied by excitement for what might be waiting in London for his amusement and interest. Now it seemed as though the day’s grayness and coldness had seeped into his blood and the world would never be warm and colorful again.
As the hours ticked on, he thought of Jane’s credo of women’s intrinsic equality, which should guarantee their right to education and employment, that women shouldn’t be consigned to bearing so many children that their health was ruined, and that they should be treated equally.
That it wasn’t enough for the men who valued their womenfolk to treat them well, as these were inherent rights that should apply to all women.
Jonathan stretched his legs in front of him and considered the case of his own sister, and Jane’s point of view began to have meaning for him.
As an adult male, he had the right to choose whom he married, even should the rest of his family and society think he was making a mistake and had chosen unwisely.
In contrast, his sister’s choice was subject to her relatives’ opinion and command.
At best, they may try to persuade her against someone they considered unsuitable.
At worst, while she was underage or without financial means, they could stop her from marrying. He shifted restlessly in his seat.
Not only that. He wanted Jane as his wife in part because of her education and intelligence.
She and her sisters had been given the opportunity to learn as much as their brothers.
Their education wasn’t just an adornment but an integral part of mind and personality.
Elizabeth, in being given the usual education for well-bred young ladies, had not had their opportunity to develop fully.
She had been denied any attempt at rigorous study of any subject.
Their aunt, like the rest of society, deemed that her role was to be compliant—first to her father, now to him as head of the family, and finally to her husband.
An education may have given her the ability to challenge these authority figures.
She was an intelligent woman, but her horizons had been narrowed by her lack of education.
She could not converse with her future husband or him about the classics, science, and mathematics as Jane and her sisters could.
He looked at his sister beside him, now engrossed in a history book Logan had given her. With each rapid turn of a page, he could see her devouring the knowledge it contained. Remorse prodded his conscience, and he sat up straighter.
Elizabeth, like Jane, showed eagerness to work outside the home, to be engaged with society in a meaningful way.
From a young age, she had also taken a wholehearted interest in philanthropic causes, doing more than provide money for others to dispense.
More recently, she had readily involved herself in teaching at Jane’s girls’ school in the only capacity she could provide, expecting no return except the pleasure of teaching.
If there was no heir before he died, the new and unknown future Marquess of Dalton could choose not to provide for the many unmarried Everslie womenfolk, to whom he would have no effective ties.
Jane had learned how difficult it was for a woman alone to provide for her family. Thousands of women must face that challenge every day. Most of those “fallen” women whom Jane helped had not chosen that fate. It had been thrust upon them as the alternative to starvation.
At least his conscience was clear regarding financial support for Elizabeth, Jane, and her sisters.
And he had endeavored to ensure all his female relatives were provided for, but had he done enough for their other needs?
He stared sightlessly through the carriage window and vowed to take an interest in their affairs and find out how they wanted to live rather than just dispense his largess.
He relaxed back into the soft leather squabs.
What about Jane’s fixation on the rights of all women to control their bodies and the number of children they bore?
He had promised Jane that they would only have as many children as she wished.
How could he grant that except through abstinence, which he saw as a denial of his love?
This was his biggest conundrum and perhaps for many other men.
Most couples believed there was no alternative to abstinence.
He stared down at his polished top boots.
He knew that there was a solution. Surely if it were more widely accepted, husbands would be satisfied and wives would be saved innumerable childbirths.
He hadn’t accepted Jane’s views on such issues. His were shallow, and almost universally believed. It was not a nonsense to talk of women as equal to men.
Was it too late to make amends?
He had the means to initiate change, and he needed to take it. It was up to him to do so immediately. He fidgeted in his seat, jiggling his leg, impatient for the journey to end.