There aren't too many Heathcliff/Isabella stories or Wuthering Heights stories in general, so I decided to write my own. This story goes off of Isabella's letter to Nelly and starts when Isabella and Heathcliff first return from their elopement. This chapter generally follows the book to set up the story but later on it may not follow the book.
Six weeks after their elopement, Heathcliff and Isabella returned to Wuthering Heights. After a long day of traveling, their carriage finally pulled up to the house in the evening. Joseph was standing outside the house with a candle waiting to greet the newlyweds. He took the two horses, and led them into the stables; he later reappeared to lock the outer gate. Heathcliff stayed to speak to him, leaving Isabella alone to inspect the place. Although this was not her first time at the Heights, it was her first time entering the home as Mrs. Heathcliff.
The first room she encountered was the kitchen. Isabella was astonished at how filthy the kitchen looked. Soot and dust covered much of the floor and there was a pile of dirty dishes on the table. Isabella noticed a young child standing by the fire looking just as neglected and filthy as his surroundings.
Isabella immediately recognized him as Hindley's young son. She smiled at the child and approached him.
"Hello, my dear" she said as she reached out to take his chubby fist but he pulled his hand away.
"Shall you and I be friends, Hareton?" she asked, trying to engage the boy.
In response, Hareton threatened to set the dogs on her.
Isabella frowned and decided it was best to leave Hareton alone. She waited patiently in the kitchen for a servant or perhaps Heathcliff to appear. She was quite unfamiliar with this house and she did not know where to go so she went back outside. She walked around the yard, and then she spotted a door. She decided to knock on it in hopes of finding a maid or someone who was helpful.
The door suddenly opened to reveal a tall, gaunt man with a disheveled appearance. His shaggy hair covered his face and obscured most of his face. When she saw his Earnshaw eyes, she immediately recognized him. She could not believe how different Hindley looked. She remembered that not too long ago, he had been quite handsome. However, now everything about his appearance reeked of misery and intoxication.
"What's your business here? " Who are you?" he demanded.
"We have met before; I used to be your neighbor at Thurshold Grange. My name was Isabella Linton, but now I am Mrs. Heathcliff "she responded.
"Heathcliff! Is bastard back again? Asked Hindley, glaring like a hungry wolf.
"Yes—we have just arrived," she said; 'but he left me by the kitchen door; and I have become acquainted with your young son."
"It's well the hellish villain has kept his word!" Growled Hindley, searching the darkness beyond her with his blood shot eyes as if he expected to discover Heathcliff. He started cursing under his breath when he did not see him.
Isabella felt uncomfortable, so she decided perhaps that it was best to leave.
"Wait! Come in." Hindley said as he led her into the room. He shut the door behind her.
Isabella found herself in a huge apartment, whose floor had grown a uniform grey; and the once brilliant pewter-dishes, which she had admired as a young girl, partook of a similar obscurity, created by tarnish and dust. She noticed that several empty wine bottles littered the floor. She felt extremely uncomfortable alone with Hindley.
"Could you please call the maid so that I can be taken to a bedroom?" asked Isabella.
Hindley made no response as he paced back and forth in the room.
Isabella watched him walk back and forth for several minutes.
"I'm tired from my journey, and I want to go to bed! Where is the maid?" Isabella asked impatiently. Her patience was wearing thin. She wondered where Heathcliff could be. He had simply deposited her at the house and abandoned her.
"We have none," he answered; "you must wait on yourself!"
"No maid?!" Isabella cried in surprise. "Then who cleans and cooks?" she asked.
Hindley merely shrugged his shoulders.
"Where will I sleep then?" she asked. Isabella now understood why the house was in such poor condition. In the past, she had once admired Wuthering Heights. However, it seemed that much had changed both the Heights and its residents.
"Joseph will show you Heathcliff's chamber. Open the door and he should be in the next room." he finally responded.
Just as Isabella was going to open the door, he suddenly stopped her, and added in the strangest tone—'Be so good as to lock the door each night."
"But why, Mr. Earnshaw?" she asked. She did not relish the idea of deliberately locking herself up with Heathcliff. She had intentionally sought shelter at Wuthering Heights, almost gladly, because it would prevent her living alone with Healthcliff. However, now she was starting to regret wanting to live at the Heights.
"Look here!" he replied, pulling from his waistcoat a pistol with a double-edged spring knife attached to the barrel.
"I cannot resist going up with this every night, and trying his door. If once I find it open, he's done for; I do it consistently, even though the minute before I have been recalling a hundred reasons that should make me refrain: it is some devil that urges me to thwart my own schemes by killing him."
Isabella stared at the weapon and Hindley in shock.
"I don't care if you tell him," said he. "Put him on his guard, and watch for him."
"What has Heathcliff done to you?' she asked. " Wouldn't it be wiser to have him leave the house?"
'No!' thundered Hindley; "should he offer to leave me, he's a dead man: persuade him to attempt it, and you are a murderess! Am I to lose all, without a chance of retrieval? Is Hareton to be a beggar? I will have it back; and I will have his gold too; and then his blood; and hell shall have his soul!"
Isabella remained silent. All she could think of was of Hindley's words. 'What an odd family' she thought to herself. She was heartily starting to regret her wish to live at the Heights.
Hindley started pacing back and forth again. Since he seemed busy, Isabella took the opportunity to escape from the room. She found herself in the kitchen once again. Joseph entered the room, muttering under his breath and he sat down on a stool.
"I am very tired and I would like to retire for the evening," she said; "show me a chamber."
Joseph rose as he muttered under his breath. He wordlessly led her upstairs to the top floor near the attic. He opened a door, now and then, to look into the rooms that they passed.
"Here's a room,' he said, at last, flinging back a cranky board on hinges.
The room was a storage room. It was filled with various sacks of grain and several other rejected items.
"My goodness," Isabella exclaimed, facing him angrily, "this is not a place to sleep in. I wish to see my bedroom."
'Bedroom!' he repeated, in a tone of mockery. "There are no vacant rooms in this house."
"I suppose Heathcliff does not lodge at the top of the house, does he?" she asked as she pursed her lips.
"Oh! It's Master Heathcliff's room you're wanting?" he cried, as if making a new discovery.
Isabella frowned; she wondered why it would be such a surprise to him that a wife and husband should share a room.
Finally, Joseph led her to Heathcliff's bedroom. Isabella opened the door to the room and looked inside. It appeared to be the best one in the house. It was spacious and with a grand fireplace and a handsome oak-bedstead with ample crimson curtains of rather expensive material but they had evidently experienced rough usage. The chairs were also damaged, many of them severely; and deep indentations deformed the panels of the walls. Although the room was shabby, Isabella accepted it graciously. It was certainly a better option than a storage room.
Isabella felt exhausted so she sat in a chair by the fire. She sighed deeply; she did not feel comfortable living in her new home. The house was neglected and in desperate need of a maid. The residents within the house made her feel even less comfortable. Isabella started to feel drowsy and within a few minutes, she fell asleep. Suddenly, she felt someone shake her awake. Isabella opened her eyes to find Heathcliff wearing a scowl on his face.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
"I was tired so I came up to our room to sleep" she replied.
"Our room?" he sneered. "There is nothing that will ever be ours."
Isabella opened her mouth to respond-
"Get out of my sight" he snarled.
"But where am I to sleep?" sobbed Isabella, feeling thoroughly exhausted by the matter. "There seems to be no vacant bedrooms."
"Perhaps you can share a room with Hareton." He responded. His eyes gleamed with joy at the sight of Isabella's humiliation as he grabbed her arm and shoved her out of the room.
Heathcliff slammed the door shut in her face. Isabella stared in shock as her head pounded from a headache. Isabella spent her first night at the Heights crying herself to sleep in the corner of the kitchen. It was the first of many similar nights.
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