The Promise of a Smooth Career
Based on Jane Eyre, original novel by Charlotte Bronte, with some inspiration from the 2011 film.
Beta'd by the lovely AloraMora!
DISCLAIMER: While it's in the public domain, Jane Eyre definitely isn't mine!
-XXX-
Reflecting on Mrs. Fairfax's words, I pedaled with great contemplation on my way to the square. Living so far out in the country has both its blessings and downfalls – while the isolation was peace-inducing, the walk or ride to town was always a long one. Hopefully by the end of summer these rides will show their effect in more muscular calves. If not, at the very least, it's nice to get some air in my brief respites from Adele.
The darling girl is a breath of fresh air, despite the occasional petulance. I am truly glad that my nannying charge is a sweet, relatively easy-going child. I've heard stories of difficult children and parents from classmates. Refusals to be allowed outside, no television, needlessly gluten-free diets – and those are just the mildly annoying instructions. Some nannies I've known have had incidents of parents spying via security cameras.
But who knows – with Mr. Rochester might be a helicopter parent, the kind that constantly hovers. I have no notion. Two months at the house on Thorn Field, and I've seen nothing of him. I wonder what kind of parent he must be to have been absent for nearly three months, rarely calling his family. Then again, his "family" – which consists solely of the eleven-year-old Adele – does not seem to mind terribly. She's young, and a life filled with nannies, school, dance lessons, and housekeepers is all she knows. According to Fairfax, that's how it has been since her father got custody, back before Adele could even really remember. Abandoned by her mother at the tender age of three, he's the only family she has ever known.
Musing over this, I lose myself in the ride. My phone is off to allow me to be completely alone for once in a long while. Cool night air slides past me gently, rippling my hair and clothes with a friendliness only found when one is alone. I can hear spring peepers calling out from the trees, filling the forest with a gentle hum as their many voices blend together, a summer-y chorus. So far I've not yet crossed any other vehicles, motorized or otherwise. Pleased with the peace, I slow my pace and allow myself to relax.
Unfortunately I'm so relaxed that I completely fail to note the distinct crunch of gravel behind me until a long shadow is cast on the road before me. Half-turning, I spot the car too late. The bright headlights are so brilliantly white that I am temporarily blinded. I am frozen for what feels like an age before my survival instincts kick in. Veering sharply left, I do my best to avoid the ditch as the black Maserati honks, jerking right and slamming to a shuddering stop. Tiny bits of gravel fly everywhere, some striking me on the legs.
Out of breath, the driver finds me doubled over, clutching my bike for support. My wobbly legs are not finding much by way of steadiness with the bicycle, but it's the best I've got for the time being. Staring at my feet, I attempt to find some kind of calm deep from within, but my heart is going about 100 mph.
I barely register the steady stream of swears that start when the car door flies open. I'm too busy trying to breath and process the fact that A) I almost died, however, B) I'm still alive by some high power's good graces. I could easily spout off my own stream of swears, though they'd be a more cheerful sort to be sure.
The view of my sneakers is suddenly blocked by the appearance of a pair of liquid black-brown eyes and a lolling tongue. A black labrador has poked his head near mine and is panting excitedly. I straighten, only to find that his owner – also the driver of the black car – has descended upon me.
A thunderous looking man, he already possesses a rather fearsome appearance with a heavy brow and wide-set mouth. Add an icy glare to the mix and he is downright terrifying. To top it off, a mistiness is blossoming forth from his nose and mouth, a result of the January chill. It is all I can do not to cower.
"I'm so sorry," I cry before I can think. "Are you alright, sir? Oh, please, if you are injured, I have a phone. We can call someone. I live just a few minutes away -"
There is a bruise blossoming on his cheek, as though he perhaps hit it against the steering wheel? His lips tighten. If I didn't know better I'd say there was some wry amusement in the depths of his dark gaze.
"I have suffered no broken bones," he finally says gruffly. "I shall be fine."
"Are you sure? I live just a mile away. If you need help -"
"Quite sure," he interrupts. "What the devil were you doing out here at this time of night? Do you have a mad death wish to be struck by some innocent driver in the midst of a middle-of-nowhere country road?"
"J-just going out for a ride." I straighten, chin jutting up. "I do have safety reflectors on."
The man made to roll his eyes, as though I am not to be believed. Before I can further defend myself, however, his dog has reared up to paw at my stomach, sensing the excitement.
"Down, Pilot," his master orders with a hand to his collar. I remove my gloves to scratch his silken ears, not truly minding. Out of the pair, the lab is giving me the least trouble.
"You were going way over the speed limit," I manage, not sounding convincing even to myself. Somehow, despite my utter rightness, this stranger has managed to reduce me to a quivery fool. "You too that corner too fast. I could've been a road pancake, easy, if I hadn't seen you."
"If you hadn't seen me?! You were the one leisurely riding along the middle of the road, utterly careless to your surroundings! Had I not honked, you would most certainly be dead."
The infuriating jerk is completely wrong, but I am beyond wanting to arguing. Neither of us are injured, which had been my main concern. Now that I'd been reassured of his survival, I can go along my merry way. With a sigh, I concede that we were both lucky to be relatively unscathed. This appears to assuage him for the moment.
"Where are you from? You must surely live around here if you've biking these trails." He crosses his arms. "It's very late for a moonlight ride, isn't it?"
"I'm not afraid of the dark, just big cars with negligent drivers."
At this he breaks into a brief grin. "Come on, I can give you a ride."
I glance at his car. The sporty build could barely house a suitcase, let alone a bike.
"Thank you, but it's not far," I reassure him, turning to my vehicle, my hands fitting comfortably against the rubbery handles. "I live just off Thorn Field Drive, so it's not far at all."
"You mean Rochester's house?"
Startled, I look up. His expression is blank, impassive.
"Ah, yes. Mr. Rochester's."
"You work for him?"
I straighten. "Yes, I do. I've never meet him, though. He travels a lot."
"What do you do for this mysterious master whom you've never met?"
Scoffing, I shake my head. "He's not my master. I don't even know him. I'm a nanny."
He appears surprised. I must not look like nannying material. "You do not look nearly stern enough to be a nanny."
"I did not know nannies needed to look stern," I laugh. "Besides, I've only just started, so there is still time."
The stranger nods thoughtfully, bending slightly to rub his dog's ear. Pilot has taken to leaning heavily against his owner's legs, panting happily. I smile down at him, remembering my own childhood pet.
"Please, allow me to take you home. I do feel terrible for nearly running you over."
I beg off. While he seems relatively nice, he's still a stranger. Besides, I've seen what kind of driver he is, and now that my anger has abated, I'm feeling a little shy. He is, in the clear white moonlight, rather handsome kind of man -a good deal older than me, probably thirty-five or so. He wears it in his sterner nature. Even if he drove me back, I have no doubt I'd calm right up. Best to leave him now.
"Very well. But be careful not to enchant anymore drivers on your way back."
Stifling a laugh, I exclaim, "Whatever do you mean?"
"Of course you must be casting some sort of spell over people you cross. I can give no other cause for my distraction." His lips are twisting, teasing me.
"I've no idea what you mean." I smile. "Are you sure you're alright? Your car is okay? And your dog?"
He pats Pilot's head. "We are all in one piece. Now, we must bid you adieu. Go home safely."
We part with no more words between us. I continue on to town to deposit the letters Mrs. Fairfax sent me with, then stop by a coffee shop. Over a caramel latte, I relax, reading a little and enjoying the laid-back atmosphere. It's late, so everyone in the cafe is quiet, unwinding, keeping to themselves. When the caffeine hits me I return my mug to the counter and retrieve my bike from the rack outside.
This late at night I do not enjoy re-entering the house on Thorn Field. The dark hall is made more imposing when long shadows are cast by the moon. While some might call it tranquil, the silent and lonely house unsettles me. I feel out of place when I take the staircase up to my room, creeping along the walls, trying to not disturb anyone.
Tonight I linger before passing through the gate, then take my time walking my bike across the lawn. I keep my eyes on the house. The grey stone shines, appearing almost a ghostly white. The windows are glassy black holes, save for a few that are illuminated. It's surprising that anyone should be up at 10 p.m., but I suppose it is not so late.
My eyes are soon drawn from the dreary house. The moon above is placed in a solid blue sea, the waters above drifting while she is constant. The stars seem almost to revolve around her in reverence. My heart trembles, my veins feel alive with a mad glow. But too soon, the earth beckons back as the grandfather clock in the foyer chimes, shaking my from my reverie. I turn away from the moon and her stars and quietly slip inside after keying in the code on the security system's pad.
To my surprise, the kitchen is alight. Leah is at the counter assembling a sandwich. The coffee pot cheerfully rumbles in the background.
"Fancy a midnight snack?" I ask as I slip off my tennis shoes.
Startled, she jumps at my voice. "Oh, Jane! You're back! We completely forgot you were out, I'm terribly sorry!"
"It's no trouble. I figured everyone would be asleep anyways, so it's nice to have someone to welcome me back. What's going on?"
Excitedly, she piles chips on a plate, arranging them just so. "It's entirely unexpected -"
We are interrupted by the sudden appearance of a black creature. A large dark dog bounds into the kitchen, running about our legs with an eagerness.
"Oh, Pilot!" Leah cries, batting him away from the ledge of the counter, where he's placed his wet nose. "Not for you. You'll get yours in a minute."
"I can feed him."
"Thank you. Second shelf to the back in the pantry, near the bottom. He gets two biscuits too," she adds gratefully.
Placing two measured scoops into the bowl near the door, I then fill up his water dish and replace it on the mat. While I watch him scarf down the kibbles as though he's not eaten in a dozen years, something strikes me.
"Leah, whose dog is this?"
"He came with Mr. Rochester! He only just arrived."
Heat rises in me, both in anger and embarrassment. I'd sassed my employer with not a care in the world. God, how could I have not realized– who else in this town could possibly drive a Maserati?!
"Mr. Rochester," I say faintly.
She nods cheerfully. "Yes, he's finally home. Adele was so pleased."
I, in turn, am faintly peeved. "I put her to bed before I left. She has school tomorrow."
"Oh, but she's not seen her father in months," Leah reminds me. "She was very excited."
I have no doubt of it – she's missed him. Contented, I cross the counter to wash my hands then start helping her with the salad. Mrs. Fairfax is the next to interrupt us, sweeping in with a scold already on her lips.
"Leah, have you finished yet? He's in a dreadful mood – Oh, dear Jane. You've return to us. How good of you to help Leah."
"I don't mind. So Mr. Rochester has returned?"
"Yes," she sighs. Wearing the same clothes she'd worn today, Mrs. Fairfax has a makeup-free face and a harried look about her. Her short hair is mussed, suggesting that she was rouse with little time to ready herself. "And in a fowl mood. Apparently he had some car trouble on his way into town. He was going towards town to get petrol before his arrival and nearly spun off the road when he came across a biker."
The heat doubly increases. I duck my head, focusing on chopping my carrots. Mrs. Fairfax goes on, worrying over the state of the house.
"With no warning, he drops in, as always. How am I to keep the house in a presentable state? I simply can't open all of his rooms at the drop of a hat. Oh, I suppose we shall have to wake early to clean the offices and his study. At least his room is orderly. Oh, and where will we put the dog?"
"Doesn't he usually sleep in Mr. Rochester's room?" Leah asks helpfully. "I thought the last time I was in here to dust there was a pillow for him just under the window."
"Right." Mrs. Fairfax presses her hands together, taking a deep breath. Turning to me, she speaks in a slower, calmer voice. "Jane, I know you've already put Adele down once, but her father wanted to see her tonight. Would you mind terribly putting her to bed again in a few moments?"
"Of course not. It's no trouble."
"Thank you, dear. Leah, is that tray done yet?"
Leah sweeps my carrots away. "Just need to pour the coffee, ma'am, and add the whip cream to Miss Adele's hot chocolate."
When it is all arranged, Mrs. Fairfax takes the tray upstairs to the dining room, pausing to remind me to meet Adele in her room in approximately fifteen minutes once she's finished her coco.
It's hard enough to get a child in bed once, but in our second round tonight Adele is hyped up on chocolate. I have to read her three stories before she's settled enough to approach sleep. A few songs, and she's finally drifting off somewhere around midnight.
"I'm happy Daddy is home," she sighs as she hugs her stuffed dolphin – designated sleep buddy for the evening, a true honor after being selected from nearly two dozen other stuffed creatures – tightly to her chest.
"I am too, my love."
"Can I have breakfast with him tomorrow?"
Not wishing to make empty promises, I assure her I will ask. "Now it's time for you to sleep." I stoop to kiss her brow. "I'll see you in the morning, Adele."
She doesn't reply, only sleepily blinks up at me. I smile, brushing back hair from her brow, sending her blunt little bangs back. Then, without another sound I creep out of the room, feeling the weight of the day on my shoulders. Thankfully, my eyes are closed before my head hits the pillows and remained that way until the morning.
-XXX-
This was actually written for a fanfiction class - crazy right? I'm really pleased to have written in yet another fandom, particularly one that I've lingered around a long time.
Reviews would be grand.