'God Forgive Me'
I don't own Jane Eyre or any of the characters created by Charlotte Bronte. A retelling of the events of chapter 24-when Rochester is trying to persuade Jane to stay with him after the wedding. Oneshot.
"How are you now Jane?" a voice in my ear asked, solicitous and devoted. My heart swelled at the sound of it, making my inevitable task even harder.
"Much better; I shall be well soon," I answered, laying my head back against the pillows of the chaise. Edward had carried me to his personal quarters, to his own sitting rooms, adjacent to his bedchamber.
"Taste the wine again, Jane,"
I obeyed him; then he put the glass on the table, stood before me, and looked at me attentively. Suddenly he turned away, with an inarticulate exclamation, full of passionate emotion of some kind; he walked fast through the room and came back: he stooped towards me as if to kiss me. Too weak to resist; I let him press his lips to mine, the kiss far more passionate than any that had passed between us before. For a brief moment of time, a bubble of heaven, I let myself forget the deed I had to do, the enforced separation. He had a wife, he belonged to another. But as he pressed his body down upon mine, I struggled to remember that fact. My hands rose to cradle his face, resting on his cheekbones, returning the kiss with unadulterated passion. At last I wrenched my lips from beneath his, far enough to cry, "No!"
I remembered caresses were now forbidden. I turned his face away, and put mine aside.
"What- How is this?" he exclaimed hastily. "Oh I know! You won't kiss the husband of Bertha Mason? You consider my arms filled, and my embrace appropriated? And I know why; because I already have a wife, you would answer,"
He stood up, moving away so I could sit, which I did, using the chaise for support, my arms still weak. "At any rate there is neither room nor claim for me, sir,"
He simply looked at me, his black eyes piercing into my soul. "Sir again. Not Edward…" he whispered, his eyes filling with pain. My heart cried out to me to run to his arms, relieve his suffering. I stood, knees shaking, forcing myself to lean on the back of the chaise, feeling some strength return to my limbs. He watched me guardedly, before he spoke again. "You are thinking how to act-talking you consider is of no use. I know you; I am on my guard,"
"I do not wish to act against you," I replied, my voice warning me to curtail my sentence, as uncontrolled as it was. The look of his dear, beloved face was making my task more unbearable by the moment.
"Not in your sense of the word, but in mine, you are scheming to destroy me. You have as good as said that I am a married man; as a married man you will shun me, keep out of my way. If ever a friendly feeling, or word, inclines you again to me, you will say 'that man nearly made me his mistress; I must be ice and rock to him' and ice and rock you will accordingly become,"
I let go of the chaise at that moment, my limbs sufficiently recovered to move closer to him, despite my resolution. I needed to make him understand. "Sir, all is changed about me; I must change too, there is no doubt of that. And to avoid continual combats with recollections and associations; and fluctuations of feeling there is only one way. Adele must have a new governess,"
"Adele will go to school, I have settled that already," he did assert impatiently, "nor do I mean to torment you with associations of Thornfield Hall, this tent of Achan, this stone hell with its one real fiend, worse than a legion of such as we imagine. I was wrong to ever bring you to Thornfield Hall, knowing as I did how it was haunted. I charged them to conceal the matter from you, before I ever saw you, fearing that Adele would never have a governess to stay if she knew with what inmate she was housed. My plans would not permit me to remove the lunatic elsewhere, although I do have another house, Ferndean Manor, were it not for a scruple about the location repulsed me. My sin is not a tendency to indirect assassination, even of what I most hate,"
I shook my head, lost in those black eyes, unable to see where I was going, unbelieving of what I was hearing as I backed away. He stalked towards me, like a hunting cat, pushing me against the door. I felt the mahogany panels with relief, surely this was the door back into the main gallery, so I could escape if need be. His voice took on a pleading expression as he continued.
"I'll nail up the door, give Grace Poole three hundred a year, to live here with my wife, as you term that awful hag, Grace will do much for money. She shall have her son from the Grimsby retreat at hand, to help her in the paroxysms, when the lunatic is prompted by her familiar to bite the flesh from people's bones, to burn them in their beds, and so on…"
Anger ripped through me at this point; here he was, speaking of his wife like a monster! "Sir, you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady; she cannot help being mad!" I cried, indignant for that poor wretch. He cupped my face, bringing my lips to his, kissing them softly, despite my resolution, stroking my hair tenderly.
"Oh Jane, my darling! So I will call you, for so you are. You know not of what you speak; it is not because she is mad that I hate her. If you were mad, do you think I should hate you?"
"I do indeed,"
"Then you know nothing of the love of which I am capable. If your mind were broken, it would be my treasure in sickness as well as in health. You would have no other carer but me, no watcher but me but why do I follow that train of ideas? I talked of removing you from Thornfield. As you know the carriage is packed and ready to go, all is prepared for departure tomorrow morning. All I ask is that you endure one more night under this roof, then goodbye to its terrors and miseries forever. I have a place to retire to, secluded from falsehood and slander," he replied, beginning to become excited as he followed his own train of ideas. My heart rose slightly; it seemed my task was easier than expected, if he already contemplated leaving Thornfield. But he would need a companion…
"Take Adele with you, sir. She will be a companion for you." I urged whilst my hand felt blindly behind my skirts for the door handle. His hand rested on my neck, stirring my senses, fingers moving against the skin. I had never felt this feeling, of red-hot ripples floating down my spine. One look in his black eyes told me my task wasn't to be so easy.
"What do you mean, Jane? Why do you assign Adele to me as a companion?"
"You spoke of a retirement, but retirement and solitude are dull. Too dull for you," I said, confused. Surely my idea was obvious!
"Solitude, solitude! I see I must come to an explanation," He reiterated through gritted teeth, flinging away from me impatiently to stand a few feet from me, "I don't know what sphinx-like expression is forming in your countenance. You are to share my solitude: do you understand?"
I shook my head, summoning all my courage. The look forming in his countenance was frightening; sending shivers down my spine, eliciting forbidden feelings as he prowled towards me again. But he was married.
He stopped his slow stalk towards me; giving me a long, hard look. I managed to move away from the door, sensing with him so close and so excited, the door would be more of a temptation than an escape route. A scandalous thought, maybe, but a logical one. Avoiding his gaze, I fixed my eyes upon the fire, maintaining a cool, calm aspect.
"Now we come to the hitch in Jane's character, now for vexation, exasperation, endless trouble! Jane will you hear reason?" he shouted, his voice terrifyingly loud. I flinched, frozen where I was. Slowly he approached me, and stood behind me, his hands about my upper arms. "Because if you won't, I'll try violence," his lips caressed the whorl of my ear, and rather than eliciting terror, tingles of fiery desire shivered down my spine.
"Sit down, I will talk to you as long you like, and hear all you have to say whether reasonable or unreasonable," I whispered, letting a single tear run down my cheek. I knew he would not like to see me weep, indeed the situation did not frighten me; I felt an inward sense of power, such as the Indian feels as he slips over the rapid in his canoe. And I saw with one impetus of frenzy more, my dear master would break into wild licence, and then I should be able to do nothing with him. The moment was not without its charm.
Eventually he deigned to sit beside me upon the chaise, and he watched me earnestly. I had been struggling with tears for some time, and now thought to unleash them, to act as a distraction. If the flood annoyed him then so much the better. So I gave way and cried heartily.
I heard his softened voice soberly entreating me to be composed. I replied that I could not whilst he was in such a passion.
"But I am not angry, my darling. I only love you too well; and you had steeled your face with such a resolute frozen look, I could not endure it. Hush, hush now, and wipe your eyes," by his tone, I deduced he had calmed, so I in turn became calm, my strength greatly taxed. Now he made an effort to rest his head upon my shoulder, but I drew away. Then he tried to draw me to him, simultaneously pushing me back down onto the cushions of the chaise, but I resisted, my hands fisted upon his lapel, keeping his face away from mine, lest temptation get the better of me.
"Jane, Jane!" he said, in such a tone of anguish and need it thrilled along every nerve I possessed. "You do not love me then? It was only my station, and the rank of my wife that you valued? Now you think me disqualified to become your husband, you recoil from my touch as though I were some toad or ape!"
This cut me deeply, and as I pushed him from me, sitting up tremblingly, I could not control the wish to drop balm where I had wounded. "I do love you, now more than ever!" at this I kissed him, lingering on the warmth of his lips, savouring what I was sure would be my last taste of him. Heaven send me what trials it might, but I needed that last kiss. "But I must never show or indulge the feeling, and this is last time I must express it!"
I stood up, ready to make my escape, should he again become agitated. As indeed he did.
"The last time, Jane? What! Do you think you can live with me, and see me daily and always remain cold and distant, if you do still love me?" he exploded, standing up and beginning to walk towards me. I shook my head, and backed away, making for the door that would lead to the gallery.
"That I never could sir, so I see there is but one way. Mr Rochester I must leave you!"
At this his expression eased, although the fire in his eyes did not die. "For how long, Jane? A few moments whilst you bathe your face, which looks feverish, and smooth your hair, which is somewhat dishevelled?"
"I must leave Adele and Thornfield. I must part with you for my whole life: I must begin a new existence amongst strange scenes and strange faces!"
"Of course, I told you should. I pass over the madness about parting from me. You mean you must become a part of me. As to the new existence it is alright: you shall yet be my wife. I am not married. You shall be Mrs Rochester-both virtually and nominally," at this he pulled me to him, and I fetched up against his strong chest, sinking against him almost against my own will. I looked up into his beloved face, saw his utter solemnity. "I shall keep to you so long as you and I shall live. We shall go to a place I have in the south of France: a whitewashed villa on the shores of the Mediterranean. There you shall live a happy, most guarded, most innocent life. Never fear that I wish to lure you into error- to make you my mistress. Why did you shake your head, Jane? You must be reasonable or in truth I shall become frantic!"
At this I backed away, perhaps foolishly so, but my mind was too taken up with the evil I was inflicting upon my master. I soon felt the panels of the door behind my back, and I groped behind me for the door handle, eyes still fixed upon my master's obsidian eyes. He stalked towards me like a panther, his olive skin flushed with some emotion I did not know. His voice and hand quivered: his large nostrils dilated: his eyes blazed yet still I dared to speak.
"Sir your wife is still living! That is a fact this morning acknowledged by yourself. If I lived with you as you desire, then I should be your mistress- to say otherwise is sophistical- is false!" I said, anguish pouring throughout my being. Unknowingly he had herded me through the door, and I now fetched up against something hard at my back. Daring to glance around I saw it was a mahogany bedpost; strange this was supposed to be the door to the gallery. But in my haste and distress, I had moved through the door into his bedchamber. Scalding hot desire rushed through me when I realised this, yet I still couldn't think of an expedient from this situation. I raised my hands, my fingers brushing against his lapels, ostensibly to push him away, my strength wilting. His next words wilted it further.
"Jane, I am not a gentle-tempered man- you forget that: I am not long-enduring; I am not cool and dispassionate. Out of pity to me and yourself, put your finger on my pulse, feel how it throbs, and-beware!" so saying, he pushed me against the bedpost, one hand sliding around my waist, pulling me against him, the other raised in front of me. He bared his wrist, offering it to me; the blood had begun to forsake his cheek and lips, making the skin seem livid. I was distressed and aroused on all hands, my body crying out to me to give in. I was all but shaking with the force of my own desire, compounded by the throbbing hardness pressed against my abdomen. And to agitate my beloved master so, by a resistance he found so abhorrent, was cruel. But could I yield? God help me, I mentally cried out, eyes closing for one second, as I realised my body had betrayed my conscience and made up its own mind. At that very moment, I could no longer fight; the events of the day had weakened me. My lips parted, aching for his, when I felt his warm breath so close to them. I opened my eyes, looked into his, saw the love and barely restrained need, and whispered, reaching for him as I did, "God forgive me!"
Our lips met, and I set myself to inciting him as much as I could, with my limited expertise. I was insane, for here I was going against every precept I had ever learned, against the very laws of the Almighty himself. Yet I could not stop, my very nature would not allow me to stop.
He paused for a moment, surprised by my sudden yielding to his wish, before pulling me into his arms, and ravishing my mouth. My knees felt weak, only his body pressing against mine kept me upright. I felt a light tugging sensation in my hair, before it tumbled down over my shoulders. He buried one hand in the dishevelled mass, fingers twining, caressing before he pulled violently, and my lips were wrenched from his, so my neck was bared. I opened my lids blearily, and met his midnight gaze. He lowered his mouth to my pulse, and I very nearly cried out at the shocking heat questing across my skin. Greatly daring I let go of his lapels, and slid my hands into his jetty waves, holding him to me as he devoured my neck. I could feel his unbelievable hunger, his rampant need for me, felt my own inchoate longings take flight, irresistible. I was truly lost.
His hand went to my laces, quickly dispensing with the knots, before he pulled my gown down. I shivered in the sudden draught, but soon his lips returned to mine, soothing the fiery need. My heated skin prickled, aching for his touch, and he obliged, seeming to instinctively know the needs and desires of my body. His hand skated over my suddenly heavy breasts, and my breath hitched, uncertain novice that I was. He swept his hands down, over my waist and my breath truly fled, as he lifted me against him and turned.
He gently lowered me down to the bed, lips caressing the triangle of flesh showing above my chemise. I shifted under his gaze, my body entirely beyond my control. He slowly took of his jacket and waistcoat, throwing them impatiently to the side. He pulled off his boots and then lowered himself onto me. I reached for him, but he shifted lower, evading my embrace, and a moment later I felt his hot mouth on my breast, through the thin cotton of my chemise. My spine arched, a shocked gasp escaping my lips as his tongue and lips pulled and licked at the diamond-hard peak. I bit my lips against my instinctive groan, almost hard enough to draw blood, my eyes closed. Suddenly his tongue was in my mouth, his lips fused with mine.
My hands began to explore, of their own volition, searching beneath the cotton surface of his shirt. I traced the rippling muscle bands, shifting beneath my touch, trailed my fingers wondrously down the stony muscles either side of his spine, fingering the long indent. He abruptly gasped, wrenching from my mouth, to kiss ardently at my neck, his hands leaving my breast and waist to trail down to my legs, following the curve of the thigh and calf. A strange insistent heat had begun to build at the base of my spine, melting any thought of resistance.
It nearly exploded as he began to tug my chemise up and over my head, baring my body to the cool air of his bedchamber. I meekly let him unclothe me, body limp and willing in his arms, before I pulled insistently at his shirt, suddenly filled with a wanton urge to have his naked torso beneath my hands. Flinging the cotton garment away, I stopped and stared.
My first estimation of him, of his body had not done him justice. What had I called him? Athletic? Broad-shouldered? The body above mine was filled with masculine power, ridged muscles of uncompromising stone aching to make me their own. My hands ghosted over the stony planes, over his pectoral to the space where his heart lay. Feeling its thunderous beat beneath my palm.
"Jane…." At the whisper, I glanced up, and he leaned forward to kiss me tenderly, softly, as he gently moved my thighs outward, and shifted to lie between. Uncertainty suddenly filled me, maybe he could see it in my eyes, because he released my lips and said soberly, "Jane this can be uncomfortable, for a woman's first time. I will try to be gentle,"
And with that, he trailed his fingers down my body, and into the hot pool of desire that seemed to lie between my thighs. I gasped, at being touched so intimately, as he slid his finger into me, stroking the base of that hot tension coiled at the base of my spine.
"Please…." The whisper escaped from my dry, yearning lips, writhing beneath his touch, as he stroked the very centre of me. He withdrew his hand, slick with my own desire, and cradled my face as he kissed me passionately, drinking deep. It was then, as I relaxed under his expertise, that I felt the hard, heavy weight of him begin to press in. My toes curled against the sheets at the incredible sensation, as he filled me oh so slowly. I felt him pause, for one moment, power seeming to build in his body, and I tensed. All of a sudden, in one powerful surge he pushed through the slight obstruction of my body. Hot searing agony filled me, and I cried out, my entire body tensed. He stopped moving upon me, supporting himself upon his hands above me. He seemed to be waiting for something.
A glorious confidence filled me. Suddenly I knew what he was waiting for, knew that my tension had to dissolve. Gradually it did, as my body began to adjust to the burning hardness invading it. He flicked my hair from my sweaty face, and kissed me, lowering his body onto mine. Slowly he withdrew his body from my own and returned, seating himself deep within me.
I gasped and closed my eyes, lips clinging to his, exulting in the glory of our joining. My senses were full of him, focussed upon him, deaf, dumb and blind to anything else but him. And the glory was only building. And together we strove for the fulfilment of that glory, its glittering culmination to sweep us up in its heat, to rip through us and leave us changed irrevocably. And then the end was upon us, our slick, heaving bodies joined as one, and we tumbled over the precipice into oblivion.
What had I done?
Such was my thoughts when I awoke, nestled in his arms, in his bed, one hand splayed over his heart. Do not mistake my meaning, I did not regret our actions, but now my foolish concession would only make my task more difficult. I still had to leave, I couldn't stay.
Slowly I pulled away from his embrace, hunting for my clothes. He let me go, even though he was awake, and for a moment, I feared he too regretted our actions. But as I slipped into my chemise, and laced up my stays, I heard him mutter to the ceiling.
"I am a fool. I keep telling her I am not married, and do not tell her why! Jane?" he turned to me. I struggled to keep my eyes from his bare torso, lest my resolution waver.
"Yes, sir?" I asked, in my usual wonted respectful manner. He frowned but let the address pass.
"Just put your hand in mine, that I might know you are truly near me and that the events of the last hour were no dream. Then I shall present the true case of things, if you will hear me,"
"I will listen, sir. For hours if you will,"
"I ask only minutes, Jane," and with that, still only half-dressed, I slipped back onto the bed, and placed my hand in his. Helpfully I had snagged my dress as I did so, so I might beat a hasty retreat if I had to.
And so he told me, stiltedly, of how his father and elder brother conspired to marry him off, to a bride in the West Indies. He told me how, after a whirlwind courtship, they married, and he discovered the true nature of his bride, Bertha Mason and that of her mother. He told me of his father's and brother's deaths in the interval of four years, and how he came close to the edge of oblivion. He related how he had conveyed her back to England, to Thornfield as her prison, and left to a life of dissipation and mistresses, whilst he searched for his epitome of a virtuous woman.
And how he grew more and more bitter, until he met me. At this point in the telling, I determinedly shut my ears; my heart that had beat in pity now beat in pain at the thought of separation from my dear love. But his words fell, like a golden shower of poison, into my soul.
"Don't talk anymore of those days, sir!" I interrupted, unable to bear it any longer, furtively brushing away tears. I hurriedly slid to the side of the bed, and pulled the skirts of my dress over me, slipping into the sleeves, and struggling to redo the fastenings. He appeared behind me, and I was relieved to note he had slipped back into breeches, boots and his shirt, so my resistance would not be so difficult. But his hands slid around my upper arms, pulling me back against his chest, and I felt his lips on my hair, on my neck, just below my ear. I shuddered and relaxed deeper into his hold, as his arms came around me.
"No, Jane," he returned, "what necessity is there to dwell on the past, when the Present is so much surer, the Future so much brighter?"
I shuddered once more to hear the infatuated assertion.
"You see now how the case stands, do you not? After a youth and a manhood spent half in unutterable misery, and half in dreary solitude, I have, for the first time, found what I can truly love- I have found you. You are my sympathy, my better self, my good angel." At this I pulled away from his torturing arms and lips, moving away from him even as he followed, catching my arms as I made for the door leading back to the parlour. He swung me around to face him. "I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence around you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one.
"It is because I felt and knew this that I resolved to marry you. To say I am already married is an empty mockery; I had but that hideous demon upstairs. I was wrong to attempt to deceive you; but I feared a stubbornness that exists in your character. I feared early instilled prejudice: I wanted to have you safe before hazarding conferences. This was cowardly: I should have appealed to your nobleness and magnanimity at first, as I do now-opened to you plainly my life of agony-described to you my hunger and thirst after a higher and worthier existence- shown to you, not my resolution for that word is weak, but my resistless bent to love faithfully and well where I am faithfully and well loved in return. Then I should have asked you to accept my pledge of fidelity and to give me yours, as I do now. Jane-give it me now."
A pause.
"Why are you silent Jane?"
I was experiencing an ordeal, one too terrible to endure. A hand of fiery iron grasped my vitals. Terrible moment! Full of struggle, blackness, burning! Not a human being that ever lived could wish to loved better than I was loved: and him who thus loved me I absolutely worshipped: and I must now renounce love and idol. One drear word comprised my intolerable duty- Depart!
Mr Rochester tightened his grip on my arms, staring deep into my blind eyes.
"Jane, you understand what I want of you? Just this promise- I will be yours, Mr Rochester," he whispered. I kissed him tremblingly, knowing I must now tear his heart out along with my own.
"Mr Rochester I will not be yours!" and with that I freed myself from his grasp, walked into the parlour and made for the other door. Until I felt him behind me, as he seized my arms and swung me around, hard against his body.
"Jane," recommenced he, with a gentleness that nearly broke me down in tears, and turned me stone cold with ominous terror- for this still voice was the pant of a lion rising- "Jane do you mean to go one way in the world and leave me to go another?"
"I do," I answered, keeping still lest I should provoke him. But my stillness was my undoing.
"Jane, do you mean it now?" he asked, as he leaned towards me, fire in his eyes, as he kissed me, tumbling me back onto the chaise. My loose hair rippled over the sides, like a brown waterfall, and he stared at it longingly, before he kissed me again.
As soon as he released me, I said firmly as I could whilst crushed beneath him, prey to his body. "I do,"
"And now?" he asked, kissing me voraciously. He broke from my lips, tilting my head back against the cushioned seat, laying a searing trail of kisses down my neck; both hands curved around my waist, pulling my torso up against him, letting me feel the strength in his body, the promise of pleasure at his hands. But I had to hold firm.
"I do," and with that, I felt some strength return as I pushed him up and extricated myself from restraint rapidly and completely. He stared at me, and that stare nearly had my knees buckling.
"Oh Jane this is bitter, this is wicked. It would not be wicked to love me!"
"But it would to obey you!" I cried out, moving as far away as I could. But he lay between me and my escape route. A wild look crossed his brows, he rose; but he forbore yet. I laid my hand on the back of the armchair nearest the fireplace. I trembled, I shook, I feared but I resolved.
"One instant, Jane. Give one glance to my terrible life when you are gone. All happiness will be torn away with you. What then is left? For a wife I have but the maniac upstairs: as well might you refer to some corpse in yonder churchyard. What shall I do, Jane? Where turn for a companion, and for some hope?" he all but shouted, his pain reverberating in his words.
"Do as I do: trust in God and yourself. Believe in heaven. Hope to meet again there," I kept my sentences short, keeping my voice under control.
"Then you will not yield?"
"No."
"The you condemn me to live wretched and die accursed?" his voice rose.
"I advise you to live sinless and I wish you to die tranquil,"
"Then you snatch love and innocence from me? You fling me back on lust for a passion? Vice for an occupation?"
"Mr Rochester I no more assign this fate to you than I grasp at it for myself. We were born to strive and endure- you as well as I: do so. You will forget me before I forget you," I said quietly, hoping he would calm. But he did not.
"You make me a liar by such language, you sully my honour! I declared I could not change: you tell me to my face I shall change soon. And what a distortion in your judgement, what a perversity in your ideas, is proved by your conduct! You gave yourself to me, yet you will not yield. You have told me you love me but refuse to be mine! Is it better to drive a fellow-creature to despair than to transgress a mere human law, no man being injured in the breach? For you have no relatives or acquaintance you need fear to offend by living with me!" he said quietly, stalking close to me. This quiet voice was more terrifying than if he had bellowed, for it was dark and turbulent, sliding along my nerves like lightning.
Any exhilaration I might have felt at such a storm had long passed, now only fear and desire remained, clawing at each other's throats.
Now my very conscience and reason turned against me, where before they had held firm, and charged me with crime in resisting him. They spoke almost as loud as Feeling, and that clamoured wildly.
'Oh comply!" it said, 'think of his misery, think of his danger, look at his state when left alone; remember his headlong nature: consider the recklessness following on despair: soothe him, save him, love him; tell him you love him and will be his. Who in the world cares for you? Or will be injured by what you do?'
Still indomitable was the reply. 'I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless I am, the more I respect myself. I will keep the law given by God, sanctioned by Man. I will hold to the principles received me when I was sane, and not mad- as I am now. Laws and principles are not for times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate they shall be. If at my individual convenience I might break them, what would be their worth? I have transgressed once, and it cannot happen again. Those rules have a worth- so I have always believed; and if I cannot believe it now, it is because I am quite insane- quite insane, with my veins running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can count its throbs. Preconceived opinions, foregone determinations are all I have at this hour to stand by; there I plant my foot,'
I did. Mr Rochester, reading my countenance, saw that I had done so. His fury was wrought to the highest, he must yield to it- for a moment come what may. He crossed the floor, seized my waist and, before I could fathom his direction, I was flat on my back beneath him, on the rug beside the fire, being seduced into submission. He kissed me furiously, desperately as if by sheer will he could hold me from going. I stayed passive, despite all desires to the contrary, lying beneath him as he spent his rage upon my person, wrists pinned painfully to the floor. Hot lips devoured my mouth, my neck, my cheek, the tender spot behind my ear, the expanse of my forehead, none were left unmarked.
Finally he loomed over me, and I seemed to be devoured by his flaming glance, physically I felt as powerless as stubble exposed to the draught and glow of a furnace, mentally I still possessed my soul, and with it the promise of ultimate safety. The soul, fortunately, has an interpreter- often an unconscious but still faithful interpreter- in the eye. My eyes rose to his; and while I looked in his fierce face I gave an involuntary sigh; his grip was painful, and my overtaxed strength almost exhausted.
"Never," said he through gritted teeth, "never was anything so frail and at once so indomitable. A mere reed she feels in my hand!" and he shook me with the force of his hold, "I could bend her with my finger and thumb: and what good would it do if I bent, if I uptore, if I crushed her? Consider that eye: consider the resolute, wild, free thing looking out of it, defying me, with more than courage- with a stern triumph. Whatever I do with its cage I cannot get at it- the savage beautiful creature! If I tear, if I rend the slight prison, my outrage will only let the captive loose. Conqueror I might be of the house; but the inmate would escape to heaven before I could call myself possessor of its clay-dwelling place. And it is you, spirit- with will and energy, and virtue and purity- that I want: not alone your brittle frame. Of yourself you could come with soft flight and nestle against my heart, if you would, as you have done. But seized against your will, you would elude the grasp like an essence- you will vanish ere I inhale your fragrance. Oh! Come Jane come!"
As he said this, he released my wrists and my body, trailing his lips longingly down my torso from my chin to my navel. He sat back on his ankles and only looked at me. This look was far worse to resist than the frantic strain: only an idiot would have succumbed now. I had dared and baffled his fury; I must now elude his sorrow. I stood shakily and retired to the door.
"You are going, Jane?" he asked in a quiet voice, full of pain. One hand on the doorknob I said weakly.
"I am going, sir,"
"You are leaving me?"
"Yes."
"You will not come?" with that he stood and walked over to the door, one hand on either side on the frame, caging me within his arms. I did not turn around. "You will not be my comforter, my rescuer? My deep love, my wild woe, my frantic prayer, are all nothing to you?"
What unutterable pathos was in his voice! How hard it was to reiterate firmly. "I am going,"
"Jane!"
"Mr Rochester!" I replied, still keeping my back to him, one hand poised upon the doorknob.
"Withdraw then- I consent; but remember, you leave me here in anguish. Go up to your own room; think over all I have said, and, Jane, cast a glance on my sufferings- think of me," with that last whispered injunction against the nape of my neck, he turned away, releasing me.
"Oh Jane! My hope- my love- my life!" broke in anguish from his lips. Then came a deep strong sob.
I had already gained the door; but reader, I walked back- walked back as determinedly as I had retreated. I touched his shoulder, and turned his face to mine, stepping willingly into his arms. I stroked his cheek, smoothed his hair, said against his lips, "God bless you my dear master! God keep you from harm and wrong- direct you, solace you- reward you well for your past kindness to me," and with that I kissed him long, hard and deep, putting all my forbidden love into the embrace. He clutched me close; drinking deep, as my hands hungrily explored his hair and face, sliding down his neck and chest, drinking in all I could never now have. When we finally broke apart he spoke in a whisper.
"Little Jane's love would have been my best reward. Without my heart is broken. But Jane will give me her love: yes nobly- generously."
Up rushed the blood to his face; forth flashed the fire from his eyes as he kissed me passionately, plundering my mouth in a seductive, alluring, and wild call to my senses. I drowned in his passion for a moment, before I recalled my wits, wrenched my mouth from his and at once, quitted the room. I paused only long enough to whisper against his lips, "Farewell."
'Farewell forever,' was the cry of my heart, Despair adding that bitter last, as I left him, shutting the door softly.