"We're on the last stretch now miss, we should reach Millcote by dusk."
The coach driver took his leave of me and lurched towards the inn for a well-earned pint of ale. I stepped down from the carriage and took in my surroundings. We were now deep into the heart of Yorkshire and the moors were making their gloomy presence known on the landscape. If I squinted I fancied I could see the blackened tower of Thornfield Hall in the distance.
Thornfield Hall, my destination and my childhood home where I was now to return permanently as my finishing education in Paris was complete. At 19 years old, I was considered ready to make my mark on society. That, or whatever else my guardian has in store for me.
I decided to venture inside to the coaching inn as we would be stopping for nearly an hour. The wearing effects of a long and bumpy coach journey were finally making themselves painfully known to me. I suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion as if I had spent the whole day in one of Madam Christophe's strictest ballet classes.
I discreetly role my neck and arch my back trying to iron out some of the sore points. I sent my maid off to fetch her own refreshment. I know propriety dictates that I should have had her stay with me at all times, but I just wanted to enjoy a few minutes alone before I returned home. It is not long after I revealed my identity that I was taken by the innkeeper to the quietest dining room, with only a handful of other travellers too busily occupied in eating to pay me any attention at all. Within minutes I was presented with a plate of hot, steaming English food which I absently consumed as I returned to my errant thoughts.
It is not exactly that I don't want to go home to Thornfield. I miss Jane (even after all this time I struggle to stop from saying Miss Eyre, a hard habit to break) and I adore the children, little Janet and Charles. They have become my true family and I love them all and cannot wait to see them. It has been far too long. And yet, I cannot shake off a feeling of reluctance at having to return. My education is now complete and my guardian, Mr Rochester, will now expect me to remain at Thornfield until such a time as I have been suitably "married" off. Whilst I care about the people who reside there, I have no great love for Thornfield or Yorkshire. Even now the cold is seeping into my bones and the sky has taken on its habitual grey reflecting my own miserable mood.
It is an awful thing to admit. I am eternally grateful to Mr Rochester for taking care of me, but I fear I am always disappointing him. Whenever he turns his stern gaze on me, I can see his mind searching for more proof that I am nothing more than the empty-headed copy of my mother. I sometimes think that despite his blindness, he can see deep into my soul and see that my true passion in life is dance. I cannot help it, it must be in the blood and he would be outraged if he ever found out about my secret ballet lessons in Paris. I sigh as I try to dispel all of these gloomy thoughts, I am a grown woman now and painfully aware of my responsibilities. Jane has taught me that much, I will hide my true nature and do right by my guardian and secure a respectable match. I will enter society and make a good country squire's wife…even if I will die inside. There is simply no other way.
I am rudely jostled out of my thoughts when a large bulk of a man crashes into me and slips down next to me at the table. I have no need to look at him to know he is intoxicated, the alcohol fumes nearly choke me. Next, I felt a burly arm snake over my shoulders and pull me roughly towards him.
"Here, lads, what a fine piece of filly we have here! How much for a quick tup, dearie?"
The man was in his late fifties, with a weathered face and coarse features twisted into an ugly sneer. He leered over me and not hiding how his eyes dropped and stayed on my bosom. Shocked and outraged I tried to shake him off me,
"Release me monsieur!"
His eyes returned to my face then and lit up in a sinister way which made my veins run cold with fear.
"A Frenchie my, oh my, I hear your sort will let a man do anything he likes with them. Absolutely no shame, filthy whore…"
"Sir unhand the young lady this instant" a voice said behind the man and then the next moment he was hurled off me and shoved violently against the opposite wall. I was still reeling from what had happened. He thought I was…..that I was….
"How dare you assault an innocent woman, you reptile" my rescuer was saying. His back was to me so I could not see his face but he was tall and well-built and spoke with a deep but smooth voice. By this time the innkeeper had emerged wanting to find out what the disturbance was and when his eyes rested on the man at the wall his face fell.
"CARTER" he boomed, "How many times have I told you to knock it off with your antics. This is a respectable establishment I'll have none of that here. Come on clear out." And with that he roughly took the man by the neck to drag him to the door. But the man was all too vocal on his way out.
"It was an honest mistake, I mean what's a man to think if a tarted up bit of skirt is sitting all alone in a dive like this…" Mercifully I could hear no more of the man's drunken tirade as the man was gone by this point.
The Innkeeper came rushing back to check on me and I could see concern was etched all over his face.
"My apologies, Miss Varens, it is unforgivable that something like this should happen to you under my roof, is there anything I can do for you? Shall I fetch your maid?"
Truth be told I was still a little shaken up and his words had not sunk in, I was distraught but also angry. How could that man think such a thing of me? The eternal doubts that constantly plagued me started to creep back in and I was once again trapped in my own inner turmoil.
"Perhaps it would be best if you fetch the young lady's companion and I will sit with her until you return," the stranger said.
I heard the innkeeper's departing footsteps and saw the outline of a figure sit down across from me. I could not look up. I could feel my cheeks burning with shame. What must they all think of me? Stupid girl! Why on earth didn't I make Angelique have her meal with me?
"Mademoiselle?" said the stranger in the gentlest tone that I could not help looking up.
I was momentarily caught off guard. The man seated across from me was a young man, maybe late twenties with muddy colour hair and quite dazzlingly blue eyes. His features were not unpleasant but nothing remarkable and he was cautiously smiling at me trying to put me at my ease. I could not help but gaze at him.
"Mademoiselle, are you quite alright? Did the scoundrel hurt you at all?" he asked, and I realised that he was patiently waiting for me to reply. It must have been the shock, I was never at a loss for words but now I was struggling to put a sentence together. And why was I still staring at him?
"Non, merci Monsieur. I am quite alright. Thank you for intervening, I confess I would not like to think what would have happened if you were not standing by."
"Not at all, any gentleman would have done so. Forgive me, my name is Fanshawe, Henry Fanshawe, at your service."
"Miss Adele Varens" I say meekly.
For a moment we sit staring at each other in awkward silence until it hits me. He was looking at me with decided interest. I am a true Parisienne at heart and I know when a man finds me attractive, I am not naïve. But then the drunken man's words come flooding back to me with dismay. Perhaps this gentleman also thinks I am….I am a woman of easy virtue.
"I am the ward of a local nobleman, I am on my way to return to his estate as I have finished my education," I blurt out. "I am not a…"
"Mademoiselle, please forgive me," he quickly stammers out, his face slightly blushing, "I assure you that anyone can see that you are undoubtedly a lady of honour. That man was an impudent, drunken imbecile who deserved a good thrashing."
I cannot help but smile a little, the relief is disturbingly profound. For some reason I find that I am desperate for this gentleman's good opinion. Even though we have only just met.
"It was foolish of me to send my maid away, I just wanted a few moments of freedom." I bite my tongue, why am I telling him this? He does not need to know this. I glance at him, but he does not seem put out by my candid responses.
"I could not help but see you were lost in your thoughts earlier. You had the most serious countenance on your face." He leans forward slightly to whisper conspiratorially "I thought it must have been being faced with the inedible food."
Laughter bursts out of me and I see his face light up with mirth. Yes, I have still not acquired a taste for good English fare but at least I can still tell when something truly is awful.
"Oui, it is wicked, I should not laugh but it is truly gruesome. I thought perhaps I had been spoiled by the fine cuisine in Paris this past two years. But truth be told, I was so far away in my thoughts I did not notice the taste of the food."
He is looking at me with such tender concern that I glance away. His intense gaze is thrilling, and my flirtatious nature would like nothing more than to continue our conversation, but we are interrupted by the sudden arrival of my maid.
"Oh, Miss Adele, Miss Adele! I have just been told, how terrible to be exposed to such a nasty man. Are you quite alright? Here, I have the smelling salts and…." Angelique's rush of words were muffled as she dived into her reticule of weird potions and bottles. Angelique is a wonderful maid but unfortunately, she is from a large family in Brittany, prone to over-reaction and mothering. She is a stout, middle aged woman who is quite at odds with her delicate name and right at that moment her unwelcome attentions were quite embarrassing.
"Angelique, please desist. I am perfectly fine and there is no harm done."
"I told you that I should have stayed with you. Bah! It is intolerable that the master should have allowed you to travel from Paris on a public stagecoach with only a maid as protection. It is too bad."
"I must say that I agree with your maid, it is curious that your guardian did not wish to protect you by accompanying you personally. Or at the very least sent a private coach and escort" observed Mr Fanshawe, who I could see was puzzled and I thought I saw a trace of anger cross his face, but I could not be sure because it was gone almost instantly.
"The journey is nearly over now, so it will be of no consequence," I said trying to distract them both, "Angelique, perhaps you could go and ask the driver when he believes we will be ready to depart?"
She looks extremely put out to be despatched on such a menial errand, so I try my most winning smile to try and charm and reassure her.
"I will be back in a moment" she says pointedly to me and my new companion and then she flounces off in a storm of energy.
I let out a sigh of relief at cutting off a potentially embarrassing conversation. It had not escaped my attention either that the choice of my transport back to Thornfield was…unconventional. I rather feared it revealed far too much of my guardian's true thoughts about me then he would ever allow himself to say out loud. I wondered, if it were Janet who was returning from school would he have sent his own private carriage?
I was stopped from pursuing these thoughts by remembering that Mr Fanshawe was still staring at me. I searched for my jolly, carefree face and met his eyes,
"Thank you, once again Mr Fanshawe, for your kindness."
"I was my pleasure, Miss Varens," he replied and gave a little bow. My heart gave a little stutter at that. He was truly a gentleman. And yet, as I looked over his attire, I saw plain and worn clothes. He was clearly not a man of means. My curiosity peaked, and sensing that my maid would return at any moment, I asked him,
"What has brought you to this inn, Mr Fanshawe? Are you local, or travelling through like me?"
"Well, both actually" he chuckled, "My family's home is not 8 miles from here, in Shipton, but I am staying here before I travel on to my new position."
"Position?" I ask, thoroughly intrigued.
"Yes. I am to be the new tutor to the children of a man of high esteem in the next country over."
"So, you are a teacher? And are strict with your charges? I hope not, I was fortunate enough to have a governess when I was younger, and she was one the kindest people I have ever known. I was not a gifted student, but she spared me no end of patience."
I was rambling, why was I rambling? And why was I talking about Jane? What did I care if this Mr Fanshawe was a brilliant teacher or a horrid bully?
"I like to think that I am firm but fair. Education is the most powerful weapon most of us can have to survive in this world and I enjoy being able to share my knowledge with children. Children all learn in different ways, once you find the right combination that works for them so they can understand it is immensely rewarding. Something I am sure, your governess would agree with, as she clearly did an excellent job with your education."
I was about to reply when Angelique came bustling back into the room.
"Miss Adele, the driver says he is ready to leave now. He is making the final preparations, we must hurry." At which point she linked her arm through mine and, quite forcefully pulled me towards the door that I was powerless but to follow.
"Angelique, slow down. What is the matter with you?"
"We should not stay in this dreadful place any longer after what has happened. Your guardian would never forgive me. Please Miss Adele, into the carriage."
At this point we had walked through the inn and back out to the courtyard where the stagecoach was waiting. We were the final passengers travelling, the driver hauling himself up to his seat. Angelique forced me into the carriage, followed me and turned to slam the door behind us but the door was suddenly stopped.
Mr Fanshawe had a strong grip on the door handle and looked in at us both.
"Please, Madame, allow me. Do you both have everything you need for the final part of your journey."
Angelique was starring daggers at Mr Fanshawe and looked like she wanted to wrench the door from him and shut him out. Permanently. I moved forward in my seat and gently urged her to release her hold on the door. Reluctantly she left go, huffed and proceeded to sit back in the furthest corner of the carriage, arms folded and looking away.
"I am sorry for my maid, Mr Fanshawe. You are kind to enquire but we have everything we need. Thank you once again for your assistance today, I am eternally grateful."
I held out my hand to him, wishing to part on amicable terms to make up for Angelique's appalling rudeness. He took my hand in his and stared at me for a moment, those startling blue eyes catching me. He bent down to kiss my hand, as he said,
"Au revoir, Mademoiselle Varens"
Even through the gloves I was wearing, the touch of his lips was startling, but as he went to move away, I heard him say in the faintest whisper,
"Ma belle demoiselle."
Then in a flash he forcibly shut the door and strode purposefully back to inn without a single glance back.
As the coach moved off, I was propelled back into my seat, not just by the movement but his final words ringing in my ears. My beautiful, young lady. The words were shockingly intimate, not ones to utter to a mere stranger. One that you would never see again. As I glanced over at Angelique who was still sulking and then I sat back as I made the final journey to Thornfield and hiding the memory of the kind stranger deep in the back of my mind. I now had to prepare for the all too certain future awaiting me.