Prologue
She had to leave and she knew it. If she stayed she might not be able to resist him, her dearest Edwar—no, now he was Mr. Rochester again. Dawn had yet to touch the sky, and so with silent footsteps she left the room that had been her home for so long. All of her things, there were not many, were carefully packed in the small bag that she carried with her. She brought none of the things he had bought for her. They weren't really hers; they belonged to a woman who died before she ever lived, a woman by the name of Mrs. Rochester. And now the woman who would have become this Mrs. Rochester, one Jane Eyre, was going to leave forever. A sense of disbelief stole over her as she passed by Adele's door.
"Shall I really never see dear little Adele again?" she mused. "This is all so impossible, so unbelievable!" The sound of heavy footfalls met her ear and she froze. Someone was pacing. He was pacing. She had fully intended to pass by his door without stopping, but she didn't; she couldn't.
"He's worried." Was the only thought that crossed her mind. Back and forth, to and fro he paced. Without thinking she reached for the brass door handle, wanting to go and comfort her love, but she caught herself just in time. How she longed to go to him! She needed to hear him say that he loved her and would never leave! She wanted to hear him say that this was all a dream, that he never had a wife, let alone a mad one. She wished to hear him say that this was all a horrible, terrible dream of her own creation; but it wasn't, and she knew it wasn't; and she knew she must leave. At that moment, however, a sound from within arrested her.
"Oh, Jane!" moaned Mr. Rochester in a low voice, "Oh my dearest, darling Jane!" he repeated in a strangled voice. His words were full of such misery, such despair that Jane felt her heart to be torn into tiny pieces. Her own unhappiness she could bear, and had done so before, but his! Could she live knowing that she had been the cause of such deep misery to the man she claimed to love more than anything in the world?
A soft "oh!" of pain and indecision escaped her lips. It was enough to alert him of her presence. The steps that had been so steady and monotonous before had ceased, and with in a moment the door to his room was wrenched open, revealing a very agitated Mr. Rochester. For a moment they stood staring at each other, and Jane felt herself lost in the chaos of emotion in his eyes. Hadn't he always told her that the eyes were the windows to the soul?
"My Jane, I could not sleep a wink," he began shakily, "Which, I suppose, is the same reason you are wandering about this godforsaken house at this late hour." Jane shook her head, aware that if she dared utter a word the last shreds of her resolve would be whisked away into the night. She must leave!
"No?" he asked perplexedly. "Tell me what that little shake of the head meant, Jane. For what other reason could you be out of bed?" She did not answer, but one look at her pale, drawn countenance would have told all to even the slowest observer.
"No, Jane." He said with a quiet force. She closed her eyes, a pained expression on her face. His voice! Surely it was the only voice that could be soft, commanding, pained, assured, and hopeful in two such insignificant words. "No, Jane." He repeated, "You may not leave. As your lover and your friend I know I have no right to ask you to remain in this cursed house, but I haven't been pacing for the last few hours to no avail. You have every right to be angry with me and to never wish to see me again. I know your greatness of heart and that you would never allow yourself to love me, or any man, who was tied to another. I do not say married, you see, because, as I told you before, I do not think that this deserves that name." He paused and glanced hopefully into her face, wondering if she might have changed her mind on that point, but she refused to meet his gaze.
"You may leave me, you may leave Thornfield, but can you leave Adele and Mrs. Fairfax? Not as your would-be-husband, not as your friend, but as your employer I beg you to stay and teach Adele. She would not like to go to school, and you are a good governess for her. Please stay, for her sake." Once again he paused, as if hoping for some sign that Jane would agree to this plan.
Throughout the whole of his speech, Jane's feelings had been torn first one way and then another. Half of her reveled in the newfound opportunity of staying near him; half knew that staying would be sentencing her heart to eternal agony. As if sensing her thoughts, Mr. Rochester continued:
"Do not worry that I would once again distress you by offering my suit while I am tied to that animal. I would come and go as I normally should, without reference to you or any other." Jane, who was by this time so encased in her own thoughts that she was hardly sensible of her surroundings, was scarcely aware that Mr. Rochester had taken her things and was gently guiding her back towards her bedroom. Should she accept? An hour ago she had been sure that it would be better to leave forever, but surely things had changed…
If she stayed at Thornfield she could return to the peaceful life before she had loved him. She would teach Adele, talk with Mrs. Fairfax over tea, and wander alone through the grounds. There would be time to draw and paint, time to read new books and learn new subjects. She would also be able to see E—Mr. Rochester without ever having to hold a real conversation with him. But what if he couldn't keep his word and came more often than he ought? That was enough to outweigh every advantage. However, where would she go if she left? Now that she had lost her first opportunity to run from him, she doubted very much whether she would ever have the strength to leave him.
