“No.”
“Do you want to marry again?”
Jane cocked her head and regarded him. Already fragile from unexpected feelings, she needed to tread carefully lest she become a watering pot in front of him. “I will only marry if it’s a love match. I’ll not waste my time on anything else.”
“Perhaps that’s asking too much these days. There is precious little love to go around.” Bitterness etched lines on his face. His eyes took on the hard glint of glass. “Compassion has fled.”
“You say that because it’s the only thing you see. If you wished to find joy in the world, that’s what you’d discover.” She took a shuddering sigh. “Regardless, a love match is what I want, and that’s my final say on the matter.”
Finn nodded. “You’re a woman of intelligence. I have no doubt you’ll soon land the man of your dreams.” He met her gaze, but she couldn’t read the emotions in his. “Do you want children?”
Despite her best efforts, tears once more sprang to her eyes. She’d been with child once after she’d laid with her second fiancé. Unfortunately, she’d lost the babe a few months into the pregnancy. No one, not even her father, had known. The one person aware of the secret had been her maid, Anna, for she’d had to empty the chamber pot. Jane wiped at an escaped tear on her cheek. It was a loss she would never forget, and she’d grieved alone. No doubt her story was one of many that had played out within the ton and all over England, for war was an exacting master and didn’t confine itself to class.
“Jane? Have I said something to offend?” He snaked a hand through the clutter on the table to briefly touch her fingers. “If so, I apologize.” Gone was the gruff bitterness from his voice. In its place was concern.
“It’s not you. I hadn’t intended to become a watering pot today, for I rarely allow myself to dwell on sad or angry emotions.”
“Perhaps you should,” he said in a soft voice. “You can’t pick and choose what emotions you want to show to the world, for it will cause other problems later in life.”
“So says the man who dwells only in the negative.”
“Point taken.” For the first time since she’d met him, a genuine smile curved his lips. The delicate skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Perhaps we’re both a bit broken.”
She sniffed, and though the human connection of his hand on hers kept her anchored in the present, she was the first to pull away, for his touch added confusion to her already overwrought nerves. “I’m not certain children are in my future, for I haven’t given the possibility thought.” Not since she’d lost her babe. It was another reason why she was leery of marrying. Opening herself up to that heartbreak again was too much.
“What of your personal aspirations then? Do you intend to force men like me into a positive way of thinking until we die?”
“Oh, hush.” She shook her head in exasperation. “No, but I do wish to help people like you, perhaps more deeply understand their circumstances, and find new ways to assist them to live with their altered realities. Perhaps I’ll extend that support to widows and others who’ve suddenly found themselves adrift by various forms of loss.”
It would have been quite helpful to have that sort of program available after she’d suffered her miscarriage. A young woman in the ton couldn’t exactly talk about such things without ruining her reputation, but if she—or other women—could do so anonymously…
“I see.” Finn gawked at her as if he couldn’t quite believe she were real. Hope lit the depths of his eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“I feel it’s my purpose, that’s it’s stamped upon my heart. Yes, it’s quite unexplainable and sounds a touch mad, but it’s been with me ever since my brother returned from the war, injured. Perhaps before then, for my heart breaks each time I see a soldier shunned by society and unable to find work or a compassionate ear.” She shrugged, and since her appetite had fled, she pushed her plate away. “I believe I can help, and I can give hope. That’s important.”
His jaw dropped. “You’re not wrong.” For the space of a heartbeat, he remained silent. Then, a slow grin curved his mouth, and it was her turn to stare. “God, you’re amazing.”
Both of her eyebrows rose. Warmth from his compliment infused her cheeks and chest. Finally, he’d paid attention to her instead of treated her like an annoying bug. “Not really. I’m merely me, and I know what needs to be done.”
“So you’ll manage your way through? Come through everyone’s life like a great, swirling storm that clears the air?” The words weren’t hurled at her with anger or bitterness. Instead, his tone suggested he thought over what she’d said. He shook his head, but the wonder remained in his expression. “Jane, truly, you have no idea. The world needs more women like you.”
“If I can help one person heal, to come to terms with what they’re fighting against, I’ll consider that a good first step.” She sat there, smiling at him while his hand remained on the table amidst the tea things. “Besides, it’ll feel like home. I assist my brothers in their clinic.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” Her gaze dropped to his mouth. What would it feel like to share a kiss with this man? Even she wasn’t so bold to try and steal one in such a public setting, but if they were alone, she might. “It’s small and cozy. I like to lift spirits of the patients, but the actual nursing part makes me ill. It’s a failing I’ve yet to overcome.”
“Then you do intend to positive them to death.” Some of the light faded from his eyes. “You’ll have to get your hands dirty to make a considerable difference.” The stubborn set of his jaw had returned. “A man’s mental state can only be stimulated so much. The rest of his life is messy and raw and real.”
Why couldn’t he understand what drove her? She bit the inside of her lip as tears once again prickled the backs of her eyelids. Her father didn’t want her to lend a hand in the clinic either. “I’ll bear that in mind. Thank you.” It had been a horrible idea to bring him here to the chocolate house. They’d made some headway, but now it had stalled.
Gone was his easy grin. In its place was a fierce frown that pulled his eyebrows downward. “Permanent injuries aren’t the romance and heroism found in story books. Men don’t heal fast or magically, if that’s what you think.” His eyes narrowed. “We sometimes struggle with depression, with darkness, that whispers things in our ears and tells us we’re worthless. A sunny disposition won’t fix that, and neither can we will it away by changing our mindset.”
“I can but try.” Being in his company was as intense as he was.
Finn huffed. “It’s not a matter of cheerfulness or happy thoughts. Sometimes, you need to sit quietly with a man in support without trying to put him back together.”
“We shall see what happens in time.” She glanced around the small café. “If you’re finished, I’d rather like to return home.” There was much to think about, and she needed to repair her flagging confidence. “I’m suddenly fatigued.”