The Creole Wife

by Melancholy2

Charlotte Bronte revealed little of the life of the woman in the tower at Thornfield. From Bertha Mason's POV, this tale reveals a soul in torment and the devastating effect her insanity had on Edward Rochester who once loved her and who she once loved.

The Creole Wife

Thornfield Hall, England 1835
She was an observer, a watcher from her high abode seeing everything. On bright days she could see them walking by the river. She could hear him laughing, his voice deep and vibrant talking to her. In the garden in the twilight, she saw him walk alone, his hands clasped behind his back as though to keep them from her. It was not difficult to realize he yearned for her and for her nearness. Staring out into the darkness she knew they sat together in the study. She was told the governess read to him when he was restless or melancholy. The watcher was lonely and restless and had no one to touch her with love or console her.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1818

At the tender age of twelve I was an innocent in a world of debauchery and dissipation. With not even a nurse to coddle me and teach me, I lived in my books and in my head, alone and lonely. Left in my own company I read the books my brother read of lechery and lustfulness. Inured to the prose of those volumes I learned of the cravings men had and how they satisfied their hunger. I read them avidly and had no idea I would fall prey to that hunger.

I was eighteen when a man first had knowledge of me. My father and my brother cared nothing for me and my mother lived enchained and locked away. She was ill my father told me, she was violent and mad and it was imperative he restrain her. A cold and severe man he ignored me, for I was a nuisance to him and a hindrance to his dissolute and self-indulgent way of life.

With cigar smoke partially obscuring his face, Richard spoke to me from his chair where he slouched and watched me. His full lips, lush and red, smiling, my brother is darkly handsome as he speaks to me.

"I am dining tonight with a friend and he asks to be presented to you. He told me he observed you at the restaurant many times and is entranced with your beauty. I see no reason he shouldn't know you, you are after all my sister and I will be with you."

Frowning, I look away. "I have no fondness for your friends, Richard. They reek of cigars and rum, why must I meet him?" I disdain his feigned interest in me.

"Our father must find you a husband, it is his duty. You cannot stay at home; you need a home of your own and a husband. He seeks to marry a woman of his acquaintance and a grown daughter in his house is a hindrance to him."

Taking a deep drag on his cigar, he smiles as I sit beside him. Touching my cheek he speaks softly, "I envy the man who gets you. You are beautiful and unspoiled; a paragon in Spanish Town where blood runs hot and passion rules its denizens." He moves his hand from my face and rising from his chair, I sense his withdrawal.

"I think my father wishes to move his mistress into the house and he knows I loathe her. He has never done his duty to me, why should finding a husband for me be any different. He settles a dowry of twenty thousand pounds on me and now your friend is interested; I believe it must be my father's wealth and not me he has interest in."

Absenting the room, he leaves me with one more admonition. "Groom yourself and wear a pretty dress, I will take you to dinner tonight and make the introduction to my friend. He is young and handsome and who knows, Bertha, you may like him. He is very charming and successful with the ladies."

Left alone with my thoughts I tell myself I will hate him. When evening comes I sit at my dressing table and my reflection reassures me I am beautiful. My face is the face of my West Indies mother. My hair is black, black as a raven's wing shining blue in the sunshine. Youth endows me with radiance, a light from within that shines from my black eyes, and with no false modesty I bask in the knowledge that I am beautiful.

Richard's knock brings me to my feet and I greet him as he escorts me to the waiting carriage. I am excited in spite of myself, for after all this is my first introduction to a man, to a stranger. The café is a meeting place of handsome men and elegant women where intoxicating perfumes fill the air and I am aware of whispered words and see flirtations. Swept up into the excitement, I see him, the man whose eyes meet mine and who takes my hand with warmth as his lips touch my fingers.

"May I present my sister, Bertha Antoinetta, and Bertha, please say hello to James Blackwood, my friend and your admirer." Seating me, he pulled my chair out and leaning, he whispers in my ear, "Be nice, he is my valued friend."

Hailing a passing waiter and drinks ordered he waits impatiently for his companion. Arriving amid a flurry of apologies, she offers excuses of an unavoidable delay that kept her from him.

The room is alight with dozens of candles reflecting off crystal glasses filled with wine of red and gold. Vibrant colors, beautiful women and exotic flowers fill the room where glasses are raised to lips red and tempting. Flashing teeth and mouths that entice with knowing smiles catch my eye, as do eyes looking seductively through lowered lashes. My glass is emptied and filled again, and I am dizzy with the atmosphere and my companion's eyes upon me. He talks of my brother, and his eyes warm upon me, I find I like him.

After dinner and more wine, Richard tells his friend. "We have an engagement James, and I trust you will escort my sister home. She is very young and I depend on you to care for her." With his friend's assurance Richard and his companion left us.

Seated next to me he asked if we might walk the boulevard. "May I ask you to walk with me, Bertha? I believe a stroll on the boulevard will clear our heads of the wine. We might talk and become better acquainted." Although I loved the glitter of the café taking the arm he offered we joined the crowds that thronged the street.

Walking with him, my hand on his arm I took stolen glances and found him pleasing. He was older and exciting and his self assured and easy manner charmed me completely. He complemented my pretty dress, his eyes caressing the body within it, and strangely excited I hid the satisfaction in my eyes.

Stepping into the street and hailing a buggy, handing me into the seat he sat next to me. The open buggy clattering through the streets as he moved his arm to the seat behind me. The warmth of his arm and the smell of him made me dizzy. He smelled of his cigar and cologne, sensual and manly, I was giddy and suddenly quite enamored of him.

He spoke of many things and in a surprisingly short time we arrived at my father's house. Taking my hand he asked if he might see me again and eagerly I answered, "Please call on me, I have enjoyed meeting you and look forward to becoming better acquainted. My brother said you were his friend and that you were very nice." He kissed my hand as he helped me from the buggy and escorting me to the door; he bowed and kissed my hand again.

Prompted by the night on impulse I stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly. Tasting of wine, his supple lips on mine sent a thrill of pleasure through me as he accepted my kiss without touching me. Embarrassed, I moved from him and before I could turn away, he took me in his arms, "What prompted that kiss you have given so innocently? Do you thank all your gentlemen with a kiss for dinner and a glass of wine?"

His arms tightening about me continued, "Was that your first kiss, as I believe it was and will it change to become a kiss of passion when you know me better?"

Holding me close he whispered in my ear. "May I give you a kiss? I have gazed into your eyes and longed for those red lips tonight. Please tell me Bertha, may I kiss you?"

Standing on tiptoe again offering my lips, he kissed me and I felt it in my belly. Butterflies fluttered there as his lips took mine in a kiss that sent me atremble. The tip of his tongue touched mine gently and as my knees grew weak, he took my breath away with that most sensual touch as his kiss lingered. His mouth on my neck, he left little bruises, nibbling…and I shuddered.

Laughing quietly, moving away and bowing over my hand he kissed my palm and murmured, "She has passion, I feel your passion Bertha and I shall get to know you better. May I call tomorrow?"

I stood breathless and without an answer he returned to the buggy and tipped his hat as he left me. In bed later, I lay with my hands on my belly remembering the butterflies and his mouth of wine and delight, and I could hardly wait for tomorrow.

Thornfield Hall, England 1835

She sits with him today; they sit on the grass and talk as the little girl chatters. I hear the lilting French words that color her conversation, and she chatters incessantly. I hear nothing of their conversation for her chatter. The other one speaks her language as does my husband. When I met him I was intrigued with his English manner and his ability to speak other tongues. He was very young to be so accomplished. I see his face as he talks to her and she looks at him adoringly. If she knew I was here, she would not adore him.

My keeper frowns at me and tells me I am peevish today. I ignore her for she smells of spirits and will be asleep soon. I am peevish, I am angry today for I want to sit on the grass and have the sunshine on me. I know the danger of this feeling and try to find the will to suppress it. I feel it swelling within me and I want to scream for I know why my fingers have no nails; I recognize the bruises on my knuckles for they cannot destroy the stone that surrounds me. It is no use and I moan to stifle my scream as I tear at my hair in desperation.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1818

He calls at my father's house in the late evening. Ushered in by the servant he speaks to my father and my brother. I am at the landing on the second floor watching in secret. Exchanging pleasantries, they retire to my father's study and I creep back to my room. He does not come to see me and I lie on my bed and remember his kiss. Taking my brother's book from the shelf I touch my lips as I read of the kiss of fire and what it brings. My breath is rapid as I continue to read for even though I have read it before it thrills me.

Confessions of an innocent girl, true of not I had an affinity with her. Her lover retuned and taught her many things I have only read in books. I knew I was not exciting and knowledgeable enough for such a man as James Blackwood to return to me. Surely he came to tell my father he was not interested in his money or his daughter. Curiously aroused, I read into the evening trying to memorize the education of the innocent girl by her lover.

With a knock at my door, the servant tells me I am expected in the drawing room. My heart beats madly and as I brush my hair, I wet my lips and pinch my cheeks. Rushing downstairs I pause at the door and taking a deep breath, I enter calmly and see only James.

His smile lights the room as he takes my hand to his lips. "Your family had an engagement and I persuaded them to allow me to entertain you in their absence. I have asked for permission to court you if you will allow me the pleasure."

We sit on the couch and he takes my hand again. "I realize you are young and innocent of men. I also sense you are not pleased with the thought of a man my age paying court to you. I am twice your age and I find you sweet and your innocence appeals to me."

His hand goes to my cheek and then my hair which falls to my waist as he removes my combs. He does not ask me he simply does as he wants with me. Looking into my face, he tells me, "I want a virgin wife. I want a wife who is innocent to carry my sons. Your father tells me are a virgin. Is that true, are you virgin, Bertha?" I am embarrassed and as the blood enters my cheeks, I shake my head.

"I must know the truth for I have seen the look in your brother's eyes when he sees you. He is my friend; however, I know his inclinations and I cannot trust him. He swears he would never touch you but as I said, I know him."

Angry, leaving the couch I went to the door. "My brother loves me and will protect me from you. I don't care for you or your questioning. My brother would never touch me in that way." And seeing the tears in my eyes he comes to me quickly and takes me in his arms. Holding me tightly as I struggle he takes me to the couch.

Smoothing my hair, he wipes the tears from my eyes and my cheeks. I rest in his arms as he shushes me; his hands are gentle on me. His lips on my neck he kisses the bruises he left last night and moves downward. His lips touch the top of my breast where it strains from my bodice and his breath is hot on me. I hear his heart pounding where my head lies against him and I wonder if he hears mine thundering. "Pretty girl, beautiful woman…you will be a beauty when you blossom carrying my son."

His kiss is the kiss of fire and I recognize it as I burn. I recall the innocent girl in the book and her description pales in comparison with what he does to me. His tongue down my throat, I cannot breathe and I struggle as his hands reach under my dress and he finds me. Of a sudden, he allows me to breathe and I gasp as his finger penetrates me. Holding me in an iron grip I struggle and cry to him, "You hurt me; take your hands from me. You are a vile man and I hate you, how could you do that?"

And removing his hand he reveals the blood-stained fingers and becomes gentle. Smoothing my dress, he wipes his hand on his handkerchief and looks into my eyes, "That was necessary, little one. Now will you allow me to love you?"

He is gentle as he kisses me again and with the touch of his tongue on mine I cease to struggle. His hand finds me and his touch awakens a fire in me. A moan of pleasure issues from him as his fingers caress me and my body thrashing, he rises to tower over me.

"Stand for me Bertha, I want your dress off, I want you naked for me." Pulling me to my feet I stagger for my knees will not support me. Unable to unfasten my buttons he rips them loose and takes my dress from me. Tearing my undergarments he struggles with his trousers, and as they fall, I see him and am filled with wonder and fear.

He lays me down and his body is on mine, large and heavy, he rends me in his urgency as his hands grasp my hips and he enters me. Gasping, I feel his heart beating in me and I learn the rapture a man can bring to me. Our cries mingle as we struggle to come closer, to melt together and my tears flow as convulsions shake me to the depths of my soul.

I remember his kisses, and I remember his body and the fire burning in me. I cannot remember how long we were together or how, when I woke he was in my bed beside me. My body ached with pleasure of the love he gave me.

He lay sleeping, and in his slumber, he lay open to my eyes. I thought if he could touch me as he wanted I could do the same with him and I explored him. Reaching for him, I felt the velvety softness of him, and rubbing my hand against him he stirred and I smiled. The innocent girl in the book had the power and it appeared I had it too.

He woke, smiling as I touched him. "You swooned, Bertha. You lost consciousness and that never happened to me before. By the gods, you may be young, you may be innocent but your passion overcame you."

I continued to play as he talked, until, with my ministrations he could talk no longer and was with me again. My fire consumed him as he labored over me and in the end, he was completely enraptured and vowed he loved me.

Coming often before for the wedding, I tease him and tell him he wants his son firmly implanted before the ceremony. He no longer speaks of the son that was his sole concern and now almost forgotten. As hungry as I am, he is hungrier. If he enslaves me, his enslavement is deeper. I lay on my bed as he leaves me on fire again. Sometimes he returns in the early hours of the morning and lies with me, his fire burning the flesh from him and haunting his eyes as he caresses and clings to me.

My father and brother turn a blind eye, for the contract signed; they will soon be rid of me. He never takes me out for I exude a scent or an aura of what we share. Men watch me, they follow me with their eyes and he keeps me home, he keeps me with him and at last the time came for the wedding.

Waiting for him, I lay in bed feeling his eyes on me and feel his lips at my breast; and sighing, ask him to close the door. A breeze blowing from an open door indicates we are not alone and opening my eyes, I see two strangers at my bedside.

Another stranger lies at my breast and I scream. Holding me down and with a hand on my mouth, they rape me. They raped me repeatedly and even in fear and my loathing of them, I feel the hunger awakening.

Roaring his pain and anger, James came to me and throwing them from me, he pursues them as they back away. At the window, he catches them again and swarming, they fight to get away. He is a big man but the knife one man drew opens his belly and falling to the floor, calling my name his arms reaching for me, my tears mix with his blood and he lies dying in my arms. I remain, with neither husband nor his son and I am alone with my hunger.

Thornfield Hall, England 1835

I wake from my stupor and find myself tied with the rope kept for that purpose. My keeper sits at her sewing and refuses to release me. She leaves me trussed on my bed as she opens the door and locks it behind. She goes downstairs to talk with her master. I struggle to remain calm, not sinking into oblivion again. I hear boots on stone steps and the rattle of keys and my husband stands before me. He moves closer and looks into my eyes, pleading to him in supplication and he tells her to release me.

His eyes are troubled and he touches my hand. "Is it another bad day Bertha? I am sorry." And he walks from the room before she unties me. I long to tell him I never mean to hurt him, but I do and I cannot help myself for my hunger drives me.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1818

He haunts me. It keeps me from sleep sometimes, the memory of him. I hunger for him for he loved me. I have taken other lovers. They fawn on me and shower me with complements for I am beautiful and young. They preen, prance, and make insipid love to me without passion; they cannot touch the hunger that consumes me.

My father shouts at me to marry and leave his house. "Is there no one who will rid me of this replica of her mother?"

I laugh in his face and tell him he killed the man I wanted. I tell him he brought the slime of Spanish Town to his house and they raped me and killed my lover. My handsome brother melts into a corner and avoids the hateful shouting. He is a coward. My father slaps me and my coward brother runs from the room. I have bruises on my body where my father hits me. I hate my father.

Sometimes, only sometimes I find a man who touches me. The hunger eases somewhat in his arms and I am peaceful. He never stays for I burn the life from him. Manuel is such a man, he comes today, and I wait impatiently. The heat is oppressive as I pace with only a slight shift covering my body. He never comes in the front door but through my door from the garden and I see him. He is shirtless and wears no shoes, he comes to me ready, and like a tiger he attacks me and mauls me, his teeth in my throat and I smile. Like an animal, he drags me to the floor and in violence, he takes me.

He hunches and bites my breasts, he is strong and his thrusts drive me across the floor, he hurts me and I am drunk with his excesses. I scream as he convulses and cling to him, my teeth in his throat until he is with me again. His fierce eyes accuse me as he labors over me as rivulets of sweat burn the scratches on his face. When he falls on me, my blood is pounding and I try to keep him, as quivering he pours his soul into me.

I wrap my legs around him and he rolls away cursing. "You are a bitch in heat; Bertha is there no satisfying you?" Leaving me on the floor he staggers through the garden as I laugh. He will return if he can drag himself, for he wants me.

Thornfield Hall, England 1835

It is raining and I lay abed. My keeper has gone for our dinner and the rain is peaceful as it patters on my window. I have not seen him for days, she is gone I believe and he does not walk the river without her. Perhaps the rain keeps them inside, for the water runs in rivulets to the river as it runs swiftly to the sea. Oh, to be on that water running to the sea!

I touch myself and feel the heat emanating from my body. It is warm, wet to my hand, and pleasurable. My keeper does not allow me to touch myself, she should not care, and it soothes me sometimes. Warmth touches me, spreading as my cries are smothered in my throat; I hold my breath at the pleasure. Spreading, enfolding, surrounding me and crying aloud at last, my body shakes as I hold myself, sheltering the warmth within and I sigh.

My keeper returns and I am silent and peaceful. We eat the food she brings and as she sometimes does, she talks to me. "The master is in the library with the governess; she sits and reads to him." She is being hateful; she knows it disturbs me when she speaks of my husband and the other one.

"I think it shameful, she is nothing but a child and he is with her all the time." I catch my breath at the sudden chill. My warmth has left me and I shiver. The rain grows cold and I am clammy and sick to my stomach. She sees me and shakes her head. "I forget Bertha, and talk when I shouldn't."

My head aches and I cry when she comes to me. "Oh please don't tie me; I'm only cold and sick. I will be quiet." However, with regret in her eyes she holds my wrists and binds them. Tying my hands to the bed frame, she tells me to breathe deeply. I take a deep breath and the scream explodes with my exhaled breath. I feel the convulsions as my head falls back and I scream and cry at this mortification of my body.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1820

I no longer have a lover. My father confines me to my mother's room and it is furnished with locks and bars on the windows. He tells me to howl all I like for no one will hear me. "I can no longer hold my head up as I walk the streets; your reputation precedes me at every turn. How will you find a husband if you have every man who wants you," he slaps me and grabs my arm as I defy him.

"Why is it accepted you or my brother has every whore in town and I can't have a lover? Are a man's needs more respectable than a woman's?"

Throwing me across the room, he threatens me with the same fate as my mother. "I am a man and your father and I will do as I want with you. You will obey me or you will suffer."

His temper calmed somewhat he speaks more sanely, "I have a business associate who has a son of marriageable age, I will speak to him. I must find a man who knows nothing of your abominable behavior. A contract will be made and the sum of money sweetened." Temper flaring, his face livid again he shouts at me. "By all the saints, I will find you a husband and be free of you." Locking the door as he leaves I scream hate and obscenities.

My handsome brother comes to me in the darkness; he sits with me and cries because he cannot help me. He caresses me and tries to comfort me as I tell him of my hunger. He understands but is fearful of our father and has not the courage to disobey him. I live in an agony of misery, going mad with loneliness and crying in my need.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1821

Walking freely along the boulevard with my brother I am no longer confined. I have learned control and no longer defy my father for he found a husband for me and I will be married very soon. He arrives in Spanish Town tomorrow and I find it is not necessary that I love him or even tolerate him. He will never know I do not love him. I will make him want me for my body is my weapon in this war against my oppressor. I will conquer him with the dark, sensual acts that have enslaved me.

I am more cunning and deceitful than before. I know myself and I crave the touch of a man, of his mouth on mine and his maleness. In my gnawing need, I welcome him as he seeks my depths and his bravado tells him he has conquered me. I laugh inwardly as he strives on me, I am the conqueror, and I am the taker and he the giver. I want his life's blood and not the thin warm fluid he gives me. I desire the pounding blood and the beating heart of passion, as he loves me. Am I perverse? Am I wicked? My lust drives me to the conclusion I am doing nothing that is not first done to me.

I have little hope of finding this man from England a passionate lover for a cold climate, I fear, breeds cold men. The hot blood of the tropics runs in my veins and I fear a cold and disdainful man who has contempt for my needs and turns from me. However, they say the tropics make men lazy and the cold makes a man lusty and virile. Perhaps he will feel no disgust with my needs and with his own needs he will come to me. I may find he does not scorn me so I will withhold judgment of this young Englishman my father brings to me.

Thornfield, England 1835

The watcher stood in her window and gazed down into the garden. The other sat alone gazing at the tower where the scarlet flag waved in the breeze. The watcher could not see her husband and the other seemed lonely and sad. Was he gone? Would it be weeks, months, and perhaps years before he returned to Thornfield? No, he would never leave the other one, the one he longs for, the one he can never have, for he is my husband and he belongs to me.

Leaning close, I placed my face against the window hoping the other one would see me. Look at me! My hair is combed, I washed my face and I am beautiful and young, any man would want me. Look at me, husband, look upon me and find me beautiful again. Come to me and give me the comfort of your body, I yearn for you as she does and you belong to me.

The blood red moon shines tonight and the blood flows from my body. I pace the floor fiercely ablaze with the hunger that gnaws at my vitals. My hands bleed. What violence has done this? My memory fails me and I feel the gorge rising up inside me, and giving vent to my torment, my mouth gapes open as I fall to the stone beneath me and I scream as the scarlet haze enfolds me.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1821

The Englishman my father bought me arrives today and I listen as my father tells me my duty. He is a second son to my father's business associate, a man he has known many years. The elder son inherits all; the father seeks a wealthy woman for his younger son for in his pride, and with his wealth, he cannot endure that his younger son be poor.

The dower is raised to thirty thousand pounds and the youth is told of my beauty. I am courted by his father and his brother and have never met him; however, I will see him today at the café where my brother takes me.

Many men pursue me and I am circumspect and prudent and give them no cause to censure me. I am gay as I walk with my brother to meet him. I shall be demure and shy in his presence and he will find me all my father tells him. I will flatter him and shower him with my esteem, and I will allow him to see my beauty and tease his desire for me. I will tempt him, and he will become enamored of me.

He sits at the table as we enter and waiting until my brother calls to me, I observe him from the doorway. He is big and broad; he is very young and strongly built like a stallion. He is dark with black hair and flashing dark eyes and his face seems carved from granite. His glance caresses the dark eyed beauties in the room, and as he openly relishing invitations from sultry eyes, his wolfish smile flashes to show his white teeth.

I look away for I feel it in my belly and the wetness flows when his hand adjusts his trousers. His hand now lying on his bulging groin, I feel the fire burn in my belly. Turning away to hide my hunger, I walk about to gain control of my body.

My brother finds me and introduces me to my Englishman. He stands as I approach and bows to me as my brother makes the introduction. My hand in his I feel his lips caress my fingers and I am reassured, he is not cold and distant. His eyes admire me and I am beautiful, my breasts are round and soft, bulging slightly from my bodice. My waist is small and flows into swelling hips, sensual and suggestive as I walk to my chair. He seats me and I feel his breath in my hair as he inhales my scent. I measure him with sultry eyes as his heat touches me.

The days before the wedding passed quickly. He has no private meetings with me and I am chaperoned on the street. My brother formed an attachment for my Englishman and ignoring the kisses I gave my intended, he hung slavishly to his every word.

He was adept at luscious kisses, stolen kisses with a quick tongue of velvet to caress my mouth and build a fire in my blood. I returned his kisses with all the passion in my soul and he fell under my spell, and enamored of me, wanting my body, his touch awakened the hunger I shielded from him.

I wanted to ravish him; I wanted the strong English stallion plunging deeply to fill me with the blood of his forebears, I wanted his child and I had never wanted that from any man since James Blackwood.

On my wedding day, I bathed and perfumed my body. Lying in bubbles, languid and dreaming, Ah, tonight, I would have him. The vision in my mind brought excitement and I sought my body, pleasuring myself with his hands and his face before me. Writhing, my convulsions shook the water as my strangled cries filled my bedroom and it continued to tremble gently as my body slowly settled.

We stood at the altar as the priest intoned the words of duty and honor, love and devotion and I made a vow of obedience. His handsome head turned to me and he kissed me. He was mine now and I reached to stroke that which was most alluring to me. His hand stopped me but the promise of delights without end was in his eyes.

In the lavish suite of rooms, we looked with expectation to one another. Lowering my eyes so he could not see the fire blazing, he approached me and in the dulcet voice I already loved, he spoke to me as he touched my cheek. His hand dropping to my neckline he cupped my breast and leaning to me, kissed it. Trembling with suppressed desire, I ran my fingers through his curly hair.

Pushing the lacy bodice aside, he mouthed my breast and seeking my nipple, moaning, he found it. The sensation on his tongue gently circling brought spasms and I stroked his swollen member as he pressed it close to me. Ah, his escaping breath was sibilant as a hissing snake as he took my mouth and crushed me against him.

I could no longer breathe and pushing me from him, he tore the thin silk and lace from my body. Trembling as he laid me down, he ripped my undergarments and tore at his trousers. Quickly astride me, he overwhelmed me, plunging deeply and wildly rising and falling, he was starving. And driven by wild desire and his youth he gave me such pleasure I screamed in rapture as he rode me unmercifully. I was slick with our fluids and he slid on me, and trying desperately to hold him, I wrapped my legs around him. His rhythm never slackened as he lifted me with each rise of his powerful hips and down again on the bed, deeply driven, and my cries were swallowed up in his mouth as he devoured me.

My body jerking in powerful spasms, I climaxed as he fell on my breast and filled me with his seed. Moving from me and reaching to touch my swollen lips, he wiped the blood away, and kissed me gently.

Looking into his face, I knelt beside him and removing his shirt, I kissed his hairy chest and tweaked his peeking nipples. We explored one another slowly, his skin shining in the candlelight. Lifting me upon him, he settled me close, was in me again, and lying still, gave the gift of him to me.

That night he loved me gently, he loved me wild and passionate, he taught me a man could be giving like a woman and he made me love him that first night of our union. Waking from exhaustion, I looked at him, as he lay sprawled, his body sated and his face beautifully at peace, I crept close and when he pulled me closer I felt no hunger.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1821

Edward is my love. He touches my heart and my soul. No one has ever truly loved me as he loves me. No one attended to my soul and my spirit as he does. We lie in bed and he tells me of his life before me, the spoiled son of a wealthy man, the boy without a mother, the innocent sent to a strange land to wed a stranger. "I am fortunate in you, Bertha. You are beautiful and good." He asks me no questions and I am good.

We are in our home now and see no one for he keeps me close. His virility amazes me. He is potent; his sexuality is palpable and I feel him when he comes into the room. He goes to my head and intoxicating and heady we spend hours in bed or in the garden. The garden at night is especially lovely, fragrant and cool; we lie and make love by the light of the moon. I am enraptured; I am in love with this man who fills me with such joy.

He penetrates all of me, he is the arbiter of my existence and influences all I am and all I do. He attends me and I no longer seek another and filling me to overflowing, I become his all, I am his everything. Leaving rarely he is besotted with me, body and soul he loves me, and his youth sustains him in his constant attention to me. We are young and in love and we are together always.

He tells me I am wild and sensuous under the moon and under the moon, he takes me to him and I conceive. It has been two months and I have had no one else. Tonight with the blood red moon shining, and hungry, my familiar comes to me.

This evening he is out with my brother and I wait in the garden. The moon shines tonight and I feel restless. I want him desperately, thinking of him I close my eyes and my loins ache to have him inside me. I am wet and as I touch myself I hear him come to me. The moon shines in my eyes as he lies beside me and I feel his breath on my neck, "I have found you. I have watched and waited for him to leave you to me."

It is Manuel, he has come to me again and finding me wet with desire he is on me. He says nothing as he takes me and wild, his brutal thrusts fill me with lust for him as he reaches the core of the hidden part of me. His hunger matches mine and I meet him thrust for thrust, our mouths open in cries of abandon. This is not love but I recognize it, and the lust he wakens in me drives me to cling to him as he bites my breasts and I tear at him with fingernails and teeth.

Off the bed and fallen to the floor, he drives into me and, like animals, we roll across the floor. When he at last falls away and I lay panting, the moon in my eyes I feel the blood flow and I cry aloud in sorrow. I know we have driven it from me, and I have lost my love's precious seed. He laughs as I cry until, rising quickly, his face blanches and I see my husband. The look of loathing on his face chills me as Manuel backs from the garden and runs free. My husband has seen me in rapture of another and unbelieving he retches. He sees me soiled, bleeding and reeking of Manuel and sick unto death; he turns his head in revulsion and leaves me.

Thornfield Hall, England 1835

The watcher gnashes her teeth to see them walking together. He does not touch her with his hands, only brushes innocently against her. Her window closed against their voices; she can no longer hear them, for she screams obscenities when she sees him walking with the other. Falling to her knees she groans, a demon gnaws at her vitals and lying on the cold stone she touches herself and howls her torment. I want him, I hunger for him, I love him and he no longer comes to me.

Screaming, the watcher cries until her keeper comes and helps her from the floor. She growls as lying on the bed the keeper ties her down, "Tie me so I cannot look through the window, I cannot shut my eyes to his infidelity. Keep me from him for I seek to hurt him as he hurts me." Looking into her face and brushing the stringy hair from it, the keeper tells her she is going for the master and locks the door behind her.

Cunning, the watcher gnaws at the frayed rope until it parts and her hands fall free. She continues to lie as though bound and waits to hear him as he approaches and she hears the jangle of his keys. Entering and coming to her side, he touches her to soothe her and speaks, "Bertha, shall I bring the doctor, are you ill? He moves closer and she fancies she smells the other on him and leaping, draws her fingernails down his cheek.

Cursing and clawing the watcher tries fiercely to bite him as he wrestles her to her knees. The keeper helps to tie her down again and he stands with a hand to his cheek.

"I will speak to the doctor, I feel she needs a stronger draught, she needn't suffer like this. I'll return this afternoon with the doctor and new rope to tie her." Examining her hands he speaks to her keeper, "Mrs. Poole, release her when I quit the cell. Her wrists are scarred enough and please wash the blood from her mouth, the rope has cut her."

He was gone and she smiled as her keeper untied her. He would be gone and the other would entice him no more today. Standing at the window as her keeper brushed her hair she watched in fury as he spoke to the other and turned his horse away. And the red haze enfolded her and as the demon gnawed at her belly, she fell to the floor, convulsing and screaming in abject agony.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1822

He lives in this house, however, I never see him. He avoids me as he would a loathsome toad. I am poison to him and he hates me. I crawled to him on my knees and he would not allow me to touch him. I begged him, "Please…, Manuel came upon me when I waited for you. He raped me, he ravaged me and you did not stop him."

His face like stone, he turned his eyes from me, "I saw you Bertha; I saw the lust for him in your eyes. You lay with him like a rutting dog and were only sorry when you knew I saw you. I have loved you Bertha; and I find the one who is my wife, the one who tells me she loves me, betrays me. I knew you were not virgin on the night we wed and I didn't question you, the deal was made and it was easy to love you."

He left our bedroom and my bed. He left me alone while I cried and he did not come to me. I found him downstairs, an empty bottle of rum beside him, asleep at his desk, slumped over with tearstains on his cheeks.

My heart broke when I crept to him and kissing his head he jerked awake and pushing me from him, he called me a whore and hissed, "Don't touch me, never touch me again with those filthy hands that have held every cock in Spanish Town, I don't want you near me."

I had never heard such words from him, he spat at me and leaving me, he staggered as he climbed the stairs and I ran to him. "Edward, I had your child within me and Manuel took it from me. I wanted your child; I wanted to give you a son." His eyes red, his mouth twisted, he shook his head, "Thank God, for in his infinite mercy I am spared the son of a whore."

And in his fury, he told me why he was with my brother. "Your brother told me today of your mother and in my innocence I was lead to believe she was long dead. He warned me to watch you, that you had tendencies that when full blown led to insanity. He neglected to inform me of your hunger for many men and I wonder how long has this filth been in my bed? How many times have I had you when you were wet from him?"

His eyes scornful, his mouth cruel he told me, "I came to you tonight to tell you I loved you and would protect you from the disease of your mother, and that I would do everything in my power and with my love I would help you." Tearing at his hair, his face filled with pain he fell to his knees.

"Leave me Bertha; go to bed and think of what you have done. Mark my words, never approach me and go your way, live as you must, and grovel in the dirt like an animal. I will live ridiculed and a laughingstock, but you, you will die a whore and alone in a madhouse." He slammed the door and turned the lock as I sank to the floor and lay crying at his door until morning.

And when the night was over, he came to me and lifting me from the floor he carried me to my bed, telling me he was sorry, "I said many things last night I never should have said. Bertha, I am your husband and I will never harm you, if you succumb to the depravities of your mother I will care for you. That is my duty.

Now, heed me, do not bring your lovers to my home. Go into the streets like any whore; only do not bring them to my house. I am not a whoremonger; I do not frequent prostitutes so stay away from me. I will never touch you in love again; my heart is dead to you. You killed it when I saw you groveling on the ground with him inside you. I am sick to death with that vision and will never speak of it again, go your way alone for I will not go with you."

It has been a year and true to his word and although I have tried he will not have me. One night he drank himself insensible and lay naked on his bed, his door open as I paced the house in hunger. He lay open to my eyes, exposed and vulnerable as I lay beside him. Taking him in my hands, I pleasured him until, in his urgency, as he moaned deeply my ministrations brought him to the brink and he turned to me. Crushing me against his chest, I held him and he thrust himself into me. Crying aloud with joy of him, I was in ecstasy until he realized that I was with him, and withdrawing, he shuddered in climax and spilling his seed on the bed, he turned from me.

A burning red haze obscured my vision and clawing at his eyes and screaming I cursed him. Holding my hands and pressing my face into the bed, he held me until I could no longer breathe. I grew limp and when I woke, I found the door bolted from the outside and he was gone from me. My nails bled as I screamed and clawed at the door and he did not come to me.

Thornfield Hall, England 1835

My keeper sleeps. She smells of spirits and I cannot wake her. She stared at me, mumbling under her breath, cursing me. My husband scolded her and she was angry with me, I refused the medicine, I spat it on her and she slapped me. I am cunning for I knew she was tired and angry and I knew she would anger my husband if she struck me.

"I will not have that, Mrs. Poole; this woman is helpless and depends on us for her care. I know you must discipline her but never strike her." And when he left us, she started to drink.

From my high window, I see them in the garden. She grows bold and he leans to her. Her voice is soft and sweet, she beguiles him with feigned innocence and beckoning eyes. He speaks to her as he once spoke to me and my breath comes quick; my heart beats savagely in my breast as he moves close to hear her.

He betrays me with this wanton woman, he wants her and I know he will have her. She will taste his love, she will have him and he refuses me. They leave the garden for it grows dark and cold, and soon he will have her in his bed. My blood boils in my veins and surges through me and I tremble.

I cannot breathe, my chest heaves and the familiar fear gnaws at my belly. I fight the sickness; I see the other smile into his eyes and I see his desire for her plainly. She shall not have him tonight for he belongs to me. My anger drives the sickness away and I take the keeper's keys. I have taken them before and the punishment is great; but the punishment is nothing if I can keep her from him, from that other woman who keeps him from me.

I am cunning and I will go down tonight while my keeper sleeps. Her bottle is half-full and I will take it for the spirits will drive the fear away. I fight the urge to laugh as I open the door and walking quickly, I leave.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1825

I never see him at home. He only stays there in the night and the night is when I am prowling. I haunt the streets and restaurants; I meet many men and have them all as he accused me. I take them and throw them away or they do the same to me. I stalk the men in my hunger; they stalk me with their bravado and leave my hunger.

I seek him when I am with a stranger. I try to find him when I am with a new love. When I am with Manuel, I flaunt him, I rub my body against him and the men laugh at my husband as he turns from me and leaves.

I find him when he is dining with a friend and I walk seductively to him, asking his friend if he wants me. I laugh and wonder who is the most embarrassed, my husband or his friend and my husband, stiff with anger, leaves. Yet when the blood red moon has me in its grasp, he locks me securely away and when the demon leaves, he allows me to run free.

"I'll not keep you from that which gives you ease." His sneer and is cold eyes anger me. He is adept at protecting himself and when I am in my rigors, he holds me securely and ties me. I grow frenzied as the demons leap about me as their fire burns and I scream. I cannot move and although I am conscious and my eyes open I see nothing save the demons and the red, red fire as it engulfs me. When I wake, I can no longer see for my demon has taken me into the darkest hell where great evil seeks me. My throat bleeds from my screams and I cannot move, I cannot see and my husband does not come to me.

Thornfield Hall, England 1835

Stone steps and bare feet make no noise and I walk down and out into the house. I know my husband's bedroom but I am confused and walking aimlessly about. Freedom makes me delirious and I laugh as I pad silently as my candle lights my way as I wander. If I knew where she slept I would find her, however, she is with him I know and I will not seek her. Thinking of him with her as they lie entwined brings the red haze, and breathing deeply I suppress the haze and the urge to scream.

Ah, this is his hallway, I smell his cigar and my heart leaps. I sit in the hall and remember the smell of his cigar as he held me after love in the garden. Smoke rising above us, perfuming the air with its sweet smell, the smell of my husband and his love as he holds me. On all fours, I creep down the hall following my nose and I scratch at his door.

"I am here love; invite me in so I can see you in your bed with the other."

Stealthily I open the door to darkness. Fire crackles and sparks fly from dying flame as his warm fire falls into ashes. Holding my candle aloft, I see him as he sleeps. I cannot see the other. I am sure she sleeps next to him and my soul bleeds. I cry to him softly for his cruelty, moaning as I peer close to see his face and hold my candle to the linens. He sleeps peacefully with her nestled to him, and as the flames leap up, I cannot see her, she has left him, he is alone and I run into the hall as smoke pursues me.

Red…red all round me, obscuring my visions as I flee, and my demons run with me. I laugh for although they reach out to slash me, nothing touches me.

Spanish Town, Jamaica 1825

He comes to me and speaking, he loosens the ropes from me. And opening the hangings, the bright sun flooding in blinds me. My pain torments me, I hold my bleeding wrists out to his eyes, and he turns from me. He is calm and watchful as he tells me we will go away, far away, to his cold and inhospitable land, to England where he will keep me. I beg; please leave me and I grovel on the floor and plead. He will not leave me and I realized I am bound to him for eternity.

As the shores of my homeland recede into the distance, I am surrounded by the sea. Storm tossed and wild, the ship plunges and rises like a lover and rocks me in its bosom. I cling to the ship, to the sea and to the tumultuous emotions they bring me. Too soon, I am becalmed in hell; he will not allow me on deck for people stare at me. He locks me away from my home and my kindred as the ship brings me close to my ultimate destiny. The red moon shines on the sea tonight and I howl in misery. I am bound to my bed as the ship docks in his domain, I am now a stranger in his land, and I cannot flee.

My home is a tower of stone, a high place of torment and cold that surrounds me. He never comes to me now and my keeper tells me he is gone, that he does not linger here and that he sails away to find another lover and forgets me.

I soon discover the same moon shines here as on my remembered country, the red moon torments me the same, following me to keep my demons company. It continues to shine in my eyes as they leer and leap about, watching as the flames of desire destroy me.

Thornfield Hall, England 1835

I lie in my bed and pretend sleep. The door locked behind me, I place the keys with my keeper and smile secretly as I imagine the scene below, awaiting my release. Writhing in my joy, I can barely contain my spirit and it claws to come forth and spring free. Savage and wild, my heart throbs and my body quakes as I hear someone on the steps and the sound of a turning key.

His candle precedes him and I cringe into my bed, he is not burning, he is here with me. Standing huge behind the candle, his shirt flapping like wings he peers at my keeper and comes to me. I lay still, my eyes shut tight as he studies me. "I know you're not sleeping Bertha. I know what you have done and now I must wake this sleeping woman who has endangered me." Shaking her awake, he scolds her as her bleary eyes open and she pleads. "Why do you berate me? Your wife lies in her bed asleep."

We hear the other one who came to him where I left him burning awakened him. Wet with the water she flung on him, he joined her and together they extinguished the flames and she saved him.

"She waits for me and I will go to her and thank her. I shall take her hand and give her praise for saving me." His eyes reveal his intentions for he will have her now, I leap for his throat and rake his chest with my fingernails, and blood seeps from his wounds as they bind me and he leaves.

I know he is with her now and the red surrounds me, his touch will awaken her to him and he will keep her. I remember his hands. He will sigh, his touch will bring his fiery love to her, and she will never again be free.

"Oh my sweet husband, why have you forsaken me tonight as my body dies from want of thee?" The blessed red enfolds me as you love her and I fly from this night and hide from reality. My breath stops as my body grows rigid with convulsions, and consciousness dissolves allowing me to be free from me.

Thornfield Hall, England April 12, 1835

The watcher sees the other as she walks the river. Her eyes seek him in the distance and she is sad and lonely. He has had his way with her and left her as he left me. I feel ease with his absence, his presence calls to me and now I cannot hear him. My keeper does not tell me if he is here or gone away, she is angry with me and does not speak to me. The other gazes at my window, did he tell her I am here and does the knowledge of me drive her from him?

It is the coming of the red moon; I feel it in my body, the gnawing hunger. My body shakes, trembling and quaking, and I am falling to the floor, falling…falling. I fear the hunger; I fear the pain when no man comes to ease me, how long have I been without a lover? As my fingers creep down to my torment and I close my eyes, I summon my familiar, my Manuel, my phantom lover. Sometimes it is James, oft times my husband, but now I need Manuel, I need his cruelty and his vigor. His hands touch me savagely, they rend me and slash me and I bleed. Gasping for breath, he must hurry for my keeper will bind my hands and he will be gone from me.

Ahh…it comes, it comes and I cry aloud and trembling I feel it coming and she takes his hands from me. My keeper is cruel, she ties me and I cry as she takes him from me. Washing me as I thrash my legs and scream she washes him away and binds my body. I cannot breathe; I am dying as she tells me I disgust her and hides her face from me. My back arches as my bones creak and trying to scream my mouth opens wide and no scream comes, I am silent as I fall a million miles and I lay in pieces, shattered.

April 28, 1835

He returns to me. I see him coming on his black horse, racing down the path; he rides ahead of his companion. He is like his stallion, he is potent and powerful and he loves me. I knew he would return to me when he tired of her. I am his wife and he loves me, she was only a diversion, a whimsy that is over. I am filled with desire just to see him, my husband has come home, and he comes to me.

Waving from the window, my scarlet flag beckons to him. I am here love and I am waiting. He dashes to the courtyard and leaps from his stallion. His companion reaches him and my heart lurches for it is another woman. He takes her hand and as she dismounts, I observe her. She is dressed all in purple, she is blond and my gorge rises. She simpers, preens, and hangs on his arm and I am sick, my stomach quakes and I swallow bile as they leave my vision. My head aches suddenly and doubling over in pain, I vomit. Venom spews from my mouth, the poison of him sickens me and my husband again betrays me.

My keeper comes to tell me of the merriment and music in the house. Many guests arrive, she tells me, and they will stay for a long while. I am fearful for he will watch me and bind me if need be, I will not be discovered. When it is quiet in the night, I can hear their merry voices and my keeper tells me he keeps them enthralled, both the blond one and the other.

He is cruel to both the other and me for he flaunts the new one. My demons creep about on these moonless nights, hovering and waiting for the red moon and me. I fear the demons, I fear their hungry eyes and their gnashing teeth as they reach for me where I shelter within myself and weep.

May 2, 1835

When the blood red moon shines I have a visitor. My keeper brings him to me and it is my brother. He stands just inside the door and smiles at me. I cannot hear him when he speaks; my head is alive with other voices. He comes close and I smell his sex and his cigar. My brother loves me and I reach to stroke him. Recoiling from me, he backs away and falling to the floor, I am on him. My demons screech and my head pounds as I slash my brother.

His face accuses me and I tear at his chest, his shirt falls open and I bite him. Like a tigress, I tear at his flesh and he screams. He moans and thrashes as I suck his hot blood, I will drain his heart I tell him. "I will end your life as you ended mine." And his blood runs on my legs as straddling him, his face of fear spurs me on as I lay upon his chest and lap his life blood from him.

The hand in my hair pulls me from him and I feel it at my throat choking me. I can no longer breathe and falling from him, I turn to her. My keeper is big and strong and she chokes me. I am fighting as more hands hold me, biting someone and tasting blood I hear my husband cursing as he binds my hands and feet.

Lifting me, he throws me on my bed and I tremble with fear as the demons creep to me. I cannot move and prodding me with sharp fingers and peering inside they hiss and enter me. I feel them move about and with the knowledge they will never leave me I howl in agony. I gag at the demon in my throat as the fires of hell lick at my feet, and my eyes of red go slowly black, the demons win and oblivion finds me.

It is nearing morning as the dawn lightens the eastern sky and I am suddenly awake. I hear her voice as she croons to my brother. Her voice calm, I can hear her as she reassures him and soon my husband joins her. I hear the sound of other voices as they speak to my brother. Quiet comes and they are gone, my husband does not come to me and I know he is with the other. I have heard that gentle voice, he loves her, he spoke to me in that fashion when he loved me, and now he loves the other.

Thornfield Hall, June22, 1835

I no longer stand at the window watching, she is gone and he walks alone. He longs for her it is evident in his manner for he shuns his guests, the golden one and me. The sun holds no attraction for me; I want the shadows to hide me from a sun that burns me. I cower in the corner, huddled with my demon where my keeper cannot see me. He shines from my eyes and frightens my keeper and she looks away and shivers. He laughs mirthlessly scratching at my throat and I cough blood. His voice never leaves me and ringing in my head I fall to the floor and scrabble about as he directs me and my keeper retreats.

I sense the demon looking through my eyes and waiting. I have no fear of my tenant; I welcome him for I have nothing else inside me. I hear the sound of mirthless laughter; he cackles from my mouth and touches me. I need not struggle with my bindings, he is with me now forever and I wait for him to free me. I close my eyes from my husband so he will not see my crouching demon for now I hear his boots on the steps and the jangle of his keys.

He stands beside me, he surveys me and speaks, "Bertha, what have you done? I fear for you, why have you done this? Tell me, what shall I do?" He stands silently as I open my eyes and reveal my lurking demon. I hear his moaning cry as he averts his eyes and backing from me, cries, "Oh my God, have mercy on this woman… how she suffers."

My tongue thickened by the demon in my throat I laugh, spewing venom as he locks the door behind him and flees from me. I cower in the corner, huddled with my demon where my keeper cannot see me. He shines from my eyes and frightens my keeper and she looks away and shivers. He laughs mirthlessly scratching at my throat and I cough blood. His voice never leaves me, and ringing in my head I fall to the floor and scrabble about as he directs me, and my keeper retreats.

This morning the sun is bright and I feel my husband's presence. I hear his voice outside my window. Fighting my demon, I go to the window and see him walking down the hill with the other. She is beside him and his jaunty walk greets her. My keeper comes beside me and tells me the golden one will be gone with the return of this one, the other.

Shielding my eyes, I see him as he touches her arm and leans close. I fell nothing for my demon snatches me and I cower in the corner. He sooths me, he strokes me and purrs into my head. He has plans for me, he seeks my body and I open to him. My keeper binds my hands and tells me I am obscene, and hissing, my demon's malicious laugh follows as she goes through the door and turns the key.

June 25, 1835

He came today for it is soon the reign of the blood moon. He tells my keeper the guests are gone and she may go for a while. He will not look into my eyes; he keeps his averted for he fears what lurks in me. Wanting to talk to me, he seeks to find me wherever it is I now dwell. His voice soft with sympathy, he tells me of his love for the other and that they will marry. My demon listens and stirs within me.

My husband rises and goes to the window to look at the sun and the garden below. He tells me of his sorrow and his need for the other one, "What can I do? You forsook me long ago and I need this woman who loves me."

I lash out at my husband in a red rage and unable to speak with the demon in my throat, with a harsh guttural sound and spewing venom I attack him. Wrestling with my demon, he overcomes him and with great effort succeeds in tying me. He goes to the door and with the turn of the key, he forgets me. My demon rends me and falling into his fiery hell by body struggles to fly and be free from me.

My keeper comes and I am quiet. She comes and I smell her, she is drinking again and untying me, she continues to drink and falls asleep. Ah, my demon sighs, "It is time, night comes and we shall find her. We will send her away; the other will not stay when she learns of me."

So as before I take her keys and slip down the stairs where all is quiet and I find her where she sleeps. My candle casts a feeble light as I look into her sleeping face, the innocent face of the other. He will not have her, he will never have her, I will send her from him and looking about I see the gossamer veil of white.

Tearing it apart, I throw it on the floor and once more, I move close and peer into her sleeping face. Whispering to her that she must go, her eyes open slowly and I make haste to leave her. On silent feet, I pad up stone steps and laugh silently as I return my keeper's keys. My demon is quiet and lying on my bed, I fall to sleep.

July 7, 1835

Tonight is the siege of the blood moon and my demon torments me. I rave with his attentions, he is cruel, he is a devil and his fire consumes me. I am lost and as he takes me down I cannot even scream, he dominates me completely and I cower as his abominable attentions bring the torments of a living hell as he touches me. I seek oblivion and pray for death as he tortures me.

I wake from the night of the blood moon and the demon sleeps. My keeper unties me and helps me to my feet. She gives me food and comfort, and speaking softly tells me that the other has gone. "She fled from him when she learned of you." I feel nothing, I am a void, and there is no triumph and no joy in her leaving. I no longer care for my husband or the other…I no longer care for me. My keeper bushes my hair and talks for her own comfort for I know there is nothing in my eyes for her to see.

"He is lost and forlorn, I fear for his mind and his soul; he walks alone all night in the garden calling for her." With my soul gone forever and my mind in the grasp of a demon I have no sympathy for the man who confines me. I want only to stay calm as my demon continues to sleep.

Taking the crumbs from my plate, I go to my window, scattering them for the little birds. Soon with their bright black eyes peering at me, they hop about and begin to eat. I watch them as with a flutter of wings, they are gone and flying to a far away tree. Oh, to fly free, I sink to the cold stone that surrounds me and I weep as my demon continues to sleep.

August 2, 1835

Bedlam in my head, I seek to scream and find my voice is no longer there. I cower in the corner, my demon snarls at me and I fall to the cold stone and creep to my keeper. She lies reeking of foul air, her bottle is empty and her mouth is open, she hides from me. She does not hear my pleas, I cannot wake her, and she has gone from me.

Her keys lie beside her and reaching for them my demon helps me as he jumps about with glee. I drag myself to the door of my prison, rise slowly and with great effort turn the key. The tumble of the lock rings in my ears and I know it is heard throughout the house and I cower in fear.

No one cares, no one comes and I try to rise and descend from my prison. It is dark and I cannot see as I slither down the cold stone steps to find a light lit in the hallway. The candle flickers like a ray of dying hope as I rise to take it. Braver now, I seek the other, she is gone I remember and I seek her chamber, I want to lie in her bed and inhale her presence. Perhaps this will cleanse me, mayhap I will wash in her essence and I shall go free. No one is here, the rooms are empty and I sense the absence of my husband.

I recall the face of my husband as I open another door in another hallway. She was here, I sense her presence as I walk into the room and walk about by the light of the flickering candle. The white dress of her disappointment hangs before me and I snatch it down and tread upon it.

Sitting on the bed their essence mingles, I know he was here, and I know she left him. Where did you go, how did you fare, may I join you? Her soul lingers here but she is gone and he suffers. A feeling of remorse swells within me and my demon fights for room in this unfamiliar place of jumbled hopes and dreams.

I remember the look of love on my husband's face, the touch of his hand and his kiss upon my lips and I rising from the bed I seek his presence. My demon cackles, prodding me, I drop the candle, hot wax on my hand, and I care not if her dress is aflame as I suck my fingers. In the brilliant light as the other's soul flees with the destruction of her dream, my demon dances in my head and calls to me to flee.

The fiery red follows and I find his door but he is gone and I cannot linger for the panic of my demon drives me onward. It is dark here and as my breath comes in gasps, I seek a higher place, a place of light as my demon scrabbles desperately and claws at me. With his long sharp claws prodding, I feel the openness of the space above me and emerge into a world I have never seen.

I look above me and see stars in the dark sky and drawing a ragged breath I stand in awe…I am free.

The fiery red creeps near to me and in a burst of flame it licks at me and I see my husband walking unafraid with flames all around him. He beckons to me. He calls to me and speaks my name and I see his pleading eyes. My husband's soul cries to me, revealing his torment as he walks to me. "Bertha, come to me." My heart swells within me and I feel the overwhelming love he once had for me and I loathe the demon within me.

Fire licking at my feet and I flee, looking above me I will fly into the sky and soar away as the birds do. My demon scrabbles, rending my body as he claws at me. I scoff at him and my tattered soul bursts free. The fiery red licks at my feet and I pray he will have his love as I look to the sky above me. Remembering once again the face of my beloved and breathing his name I raise my arms and freedom calling to me, I leap.

Epilogue

With the death of his first wife, Thornfield Hall was lost to Edward Rochester. His life changed beyond recognition from the expectant young man who journeyed to Jamaica to marry a beautiful woman to a wretched, maimed and blind man with no hope of a better future. Bertha's leap freed her and imprisoned her husband and fettered to a life of boredom and pain, much like the life Bertha ended when she gained her freedom. In effect, his imprisonment would last many more years than that inflicted on the insane woman he had married. The fourteen years stretched into an unknown time of darkness and bereavement for her husband.

The fire gutted Thornfield and its master, and grieving for his lost love he lived like a hermit with his faithful servants, John and Mary, at Ferndean. When Jane Eyre fled from him and Thornfield, taking all his hopes and desires, she left him bereft of all that gave him succor. For a long year, he thought her gone from him forever and in desperation thought death his only release, and praying for the gift of joining her in the next life, he called out to Jane and to his Maker.

Jane heard him and true of heart she answered his call and without hesitation went to her love. Without knowing his circumstances, she fled the new life she had made and went to the man whose subliminal call wakened her need of him and the love they shared. Finding him a broken and needy man, her love never faltered and although she knew not in what capacity she would stay with him, stay she would.

Edward, with the restoration of the hope of regaining his most treasured of dreams, doubted the woman he loved would want him as a husband with his lost sight, scars and impairments. He begged her stay with him; was fearful to tell her he loved her and wanted her for his wife, for he would have her any guise, he must have her with him.

In one another's company for only a short time, he regained the knowledge of his worth and the deep abiding love he had for this woman who had come to him in his need. Her presence restored his faith in himself and her regard for him. With the love he had for her and the love she displayed in being with him now, he declared he wanted her for his wife, that she was his love and his very life.

Reader, they were married. They became equal partners in a life and love that endured through the years they had together. The blight brought to him by the betrayal of his father and the years of pain with the insane and pitiful Creole woman ended. The pure and innocent woman he sought those ten years of wanderings he found at Thornfield in the person of a young girl. A girl with a past of hardship and deprivation, which she overcame with the spirit she showed in returning to Edward at his pleading call.

They were lovers, parents and true partners in a lusty and satisfying marriage. The affinity they had in the beginning was the same throughout their life. In regaining a portion of his sight, he saw his children and his wife and became less dependent. His strength and confidence regained he became the man he was in the beginning, the man she fell in love with and loved all her life. Jane Eyre, the girl who came to him through the fog remained his dream of love and fulfillment that became reality on their wedding night as he kissed her and they at last became one.

The legacy left by his Creole wife forgotten in the life his wife and family gave him. The memory of her faded as the stone on her grave weathered and moss covered the inscription, "Bertha Antointta Rochester, 1794-1835, she is free at last."