This story is based on the novel 'Jane Eyre' written by Charlotte Bronte in 1847. The characters are drawn from the book, but this is not a passage from it. This is a separate story which explores a time in the life of the other main character which is only hinted at in the novel. I have tried to follow the clues and to tell this part of the story which was never described in the novel at length.
If you haven't read 'Jane Eyre' you may read this story. You won't be confused, but you might end up spoiling yourself for the novel itself. I will post in the 'subject' line displaying at what point you should stop reading if you intend to read the novel (big time spoiler- I'm serious!) . I have about 3 'chapters' done so far. It's in a rough state, actually. I just thought it would be interesting to see what people I don't know have to say about it. I have no idea how long it will be when I'm finished. In the words of Michaelangelo- it will be finished when it is finished! (something like that, only in Italian).
Read the book- it's very good readin' !
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He heard the coach to Witcross approaching; he heard the jangle of the harness and the shaking of the car as the horses bounded along the road past his estate. His thoughts were elsewhere. He hadn't slept all night. What a sterile pit was life for Edward Rochester! A wretched creature, bereft of hope and innocence. Here, within the walls he owned was the last, sweet breath of life, of reformation into what he once was, long ago.
The coach stopped near the gate of Thornfield Hall and idled there for a moment. The sun had only just begun to rise over the desolate moor. 'I am that moor; those twisted and grotesque shapes most suit my tortured spirit. Have I not suffered long? I am not to blame for this!" He muttered to himself after a dark night of tortured thought. Resuming his walk across his chamber, he breathed a long sigh. 'No, I am not to blame. And she will come. She will come to me in her goodness.' He looked, stopping near the tall portrait of his father.
'Goodness,' he enunciated. 'Her goodness.' His father's face oppressed him. Rowland Rochester gazed on his son; a smirking alabaster figure looking down on a brown, ruffled and embittered man. Edward resumed his pacing. 'Have I heard that goodness- that love conquers all? And she does love me, and has accepted me as I am. Knowing-' he paused. he became frantic, looking about the room. 'What? What does 'knowing' have to do with the workings of love? Should knowledge be the porticullis that bars me forever from, if not paradise, at least purgatory?' he shouted, this time. 'Knowledge, I defy!' he snarled. 'And custom- that smear on the face of civilized life! I will have my Jane, and we shall defy worlds beyond this and we will do it all for goodness and love's sake!'
All was quiet once more. Over the sound of the retreating coach, a bird of the morning was heard. The first golden spears of the sun broke through the windows and stretched upon the floor.
'It is morning!' he whispered as he held back the curtains. He storde to the door of his chamber. 'Leah! John?" There was a swift shuffle of feet along the passage, and then a housemaid appeared at the top of the stairs.
'Mr. Rochester, sir?' said Leah.
'Is Miss Eyre awake yet?'
'I'll go see, sir' said Leah but as she trotted down the hall to Jane's room she was followed closely by Mr.Rochester. She knocked on the large oak door.
'Miss Eyre? You up miss?' she said. There was no answer. Mr. Rochester hesitated, then pressed on the door- it was unlocked.
'Jane,' he said tenderly, full of expectation, 'It's Edward.' There was still no answer.
At once he felt the floor give way beneath him. He shuddered, and felt feverish and went pale. 'Dear God!' he cried and without another word broke into his bride's room. 'Jane!' But the room was empty. He slumped and sighed. 'She's only gone. She's probably gone down for breakfast, or taken a walk. That's just like Jane.'
'Breakfast, sir? I got up right early an' I never but saw her anywhere abouts,' said Leah.
'A walk, then. I'll wait for her on the road.'
' 'Ere,' said Leah. 'Abide while I fetch your cloak. It's all miserable on the road today, raining a while looks like.'
'What? Oh, very well,' said Mr. Rochester. While Leah was gone he looked around. Everything was just as it had been the day before when they had left for church. Leah was quick about fetching the cloak and he made his way to the kitchen. He made himself a small parcel of bread and cheese, and then he left Thornfield Hall for the road to Millcote.
If you haven't read 'Jane Eyre' you may read this story. You won't be confused, but you might end up spoiling yourself for the novel itself. I will post in the 'subject' line displaying at what point you should stop reading if you intend to read the novel (big time spoiler- I'm serious!) . I have about 3 'chapters' done so far. It's in a rough state, actually. I just thought it would be interesting to see what people I don't know have to say about it. I have no idea how long it will be when I'm finished. In the words of Michaelangelo- it will be finished when it is finished! (something like that, only in Italian).
Read the book- it's very good readin' !
*******************************************************************
He heard the coach to Witcross approaching; he heard the jangle of the harness and the shaking of the car as the horses bounded along the road past his estate. His thoughts were elsewhere. He hadn't slept all night. What a sterile pit was life for Edward Rochester! A wretched creature, bereft of hope and innocence. Here, within the walls he owned was the last, sweet breath of life, of reformation into what he once was, long ago.
The coach stopped near the gate of Thornfield Hall and idled there for a moment. The sun had only just begun to rise over the desolate moor. 'I am that moor; those twisted and grotesque shapes most suit my tortured spirit. Have I not suffered long? I am not to blame for this!" He muttered to himself after a dark night of tortured thought. Resuming his walk across his chamber, he breathed a long sigh. 'No, I am not to blame. And she will come. She will come to me in her goodness.' He looked, stopping near the tall portrait of his father.
'Goodness,' he enunciated. 'Her goodness.' His father's face oppressed him. Rowland Rochester gazed on his son; a smirking alabaster figure looking down on a brown, ruffled and embittered man. Edward resumed his pacing. 'Have I heard that goodness- that love conquers all? And she does love me, and has accepted me as I am. Knowing-' he paused. he became frantic, looking about the room. 'What? What does 'knowing' have to do with the workings of love? Should knowledge be the porticullis that bars me forever from, if not paradise, at least purgatory?' he shouted, this time. 'Knowledge, I defy!' he snarled. 'And custom- that smear on the face of civilized life! I will have my Jane, and we shall defy worlds beyond this and we will do it all for goodness and love's sake!'
All was quiet once more. Over the sound of the retreating coach, a bird of the morning was heard. The first golden spears of the sun broke through the windows and stretched upon the floor.
'It is morning!' he whispered as he held back the curtains. He storde to the door of his chamber. 'Leah! John?" There was a swift shuffle of feet along the passage, and then a housemaid appeared at the top of the stairs.
'Mr. Rochester, sir?' said Leah.
'Is Miss Eyre awake yet?'
'I'll go see, sir' said Leah but as she trotted down the hall to Jane's room she was followed closely by Mr.Rochester. She knocked on the large oak door.
'Miss Eyre? You up miss?' she said. There was no answer. Mr. Rochester hesitated, then pressed on the door- it was unlocked.
'Jane,' he said tenderly, full of expectation, 'It's Edward.' There was still no answer.
At once he felt the floor give way beneath him. He shuddered, and felt feverish and went pale. 'Dear God!' he cried and without another word broke into his bride's room. 'Jane!' But the room was empty. He slumped and sighed. 'She's only gone. She's probably gone down for breakfast, or taken a walk. That's just like Jane.'
'Breakfast, sir? I got up right early an' I never but saw her anywhere abouts,' said Leah.
'A walk, then. I'll wait for her on the road.'
' 'Ere,' said Leah. 'Abide while I fetch your cloak. It's all miserable on the road today, raining a while looks like.'
'What? Oh, very well,' said Mr. Rochester. While Leah was gone he looked around. Everything was just as it had been the day before when they had left for church. Leah was quick about fetching the cloak and he made his way to the kitchen. He made himself a small parcel of bread and cheese, and then he left Thornfield Hall for the road to Millcote.
