Becoming Jane

Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

Harrison didn’t know how he ended up at Mrs Meacham’s, but all of a sudden he was sitting at her oak wood bar with a pint in his hands.

He knew he should not have left Little J on her own but he couldn’t look at her any longer. He couldn’t look at her knowing that everything she had ever said could have well been a lie. He felt betrayed, he felt like a complete and utter fool for ever trusting her.

And he did, he trusted her. He trusted her like he did no other. He told her everything. She’d abused his trust. She’d taken him for granted. She’d ruined whatever fantasy he had of a future between them.

He was foolish to ever disregard his head and follow his heart. What a silly notion, to think that the heart knows what’s best for you. All his years of study and he still neglected his strongest tool – his brain.

“Penny for your thoughts, love?” Mrs Meacham said tenderly, surprising him by appearing in from of him. She placed a mince pie before him, one he had not ordered. Mrs Meacham always had a way of taking care of her tenants. With no children of her own, and a husband long dead, she treated her boarders as if they were family.

Harrison sighed forlornly as he began to tuck into the sweet pie. As usual, Mrs Meacham’s cooking was heavenly.

Before he even began, Mrs Meacham cut in. “I’ve seen that look on many a young man before. A woman?” she guessed.

“I’m not a young man anymore, Mrs Meacham,” Harrison replied, taking a good, long drink from his pint.

“Nonsense,” Mrs Meacham scoffed. “You’re a young man until you start to feel your bones ache every winter. Mr Meacham became an old man at forty – three. Now, don’t avoid my question. Is it about that pretty girl you brought in here back in February?”

Harrison nodded helplessly. “She’s … she’s been lying to me,” he admitted.

Mrs Meacham raised her eyebrows as she leant down on the bar opposite him. “Lied to you? What about?”

Harrison paused, setting his fork aside. He couldn’t say anything about her lie because it would condemn her. She’d betrayed him and yet he still felt obligated to protect her. He hated the fact that he felt this obligation. “I can’t say,” he told Mrs Meacham. “But she lied to me. She’s made a fool out of me.”

“She made a fool out of you?” Mrs Meacham sniffed. “Did she tie you up and pelt rotting fruit at you?”

Harrison made a face. “No, of course not.”

“Then I don’t see how she could have made a fool out of you,” Mrs Meacham shrugged. “Did you give her a chance to explain?”

“Of course!” he exclaimed. “I’m not a complete arse,” he swore. Such profanity usually never escaped his mouth but he felt the need for it to emphasise his point. Mrs Meacham ran an inn for poor students, she’d heard worse.