A/N: I need a beta reader for this story, so if any of you are interesting please contact me! If you can speak and write French proficiently, I would also appreciate some help with Adele's lines. Thanks so much to all of my reviewers!
Chapter 1: A New Beginning
I awoke to the sound of birds singing at my window. The curtains were open, letting sunlight streamed in dance in intricate patterns across the floor. Everything was quiet and peaceful; everything except me.
I didn't remember much after Mr. Rochester had found me outside of his door. It was all a distant memory, like a dream that slips beyond the mind the moment one wakes. I fancied that he had led me to the door of my old room and put away my things himself, but it was logic more than memory that told me that.
It was a much later hour than when I normally woke, and I knew that Mrs. Fairfax would have already taken her breakfast. Mr. Rochester, indeed, might not have eaten yet, but I could not breakfast with him, for that would be improper. I must eat, I knew, as I had eaten very little the day before. If I even attempted to stay in my room, Mr. Rochester would come up, or maybe he would send Mrs. Fairfax…
This was no time to dwell on the past. I must go down and get myself some breakfast in the kitchen and then begin planning more lessons for Adele. With any luck, Mr. Rochester would be busy in his library or something and I would not have to see him. Making my way down the broad staircase, I came across Mr. Rochester, thankfully, but Mrs. Fairfax.
"Good morning, Jane!" she said cheerfully, "We were wondering when you would come down to breakfast." She was surprisingly happy, considering that her master's wedding had been canceled and he was sure to be in a foul mood. "There is breakfast for you in the kitchen; Leah made it not long since, so it will still be warm." I thanked her, but did not attempt further conversation. I was not in the mood for mindless chitchat. Mrs. Fairfax, however, was not going to allow silence.
"And so, my dear, I suppose Mr. Rochester told you that he is going to London this afternoon." She continued conversationally, "It is such a pity that he is leaving, as he probably will not return for a long while. I do wish he would decide to stay here and not go traveling all over the world as he is wont to do. I wonder how long he will stay away this time…Last time he traveled to London he went from there to Paris and thence to one of those Italian cities, I don't quite remember which." Mrs. Fairfax rambled on in this manner for some time, never giving me the slightest chance to speak. I had expected her to go about her duties after their conversation in the passageway, but Mrs. Fairfax followed me into the kitchen and sat down to breakfast with me.
"Mr. Rochester told me that you were still to teach Adele, so I have sent off a letter to the boarding school to inform them of the situation." Mrs. Fairfax chattered on amiably, "It is so unfortunate that the clergyman had to be called off to a deathbed just at the time you were to be married. Of course, it is all very sad that the woman died, but it is most inconvenient that it was at that particular time. And then that Mr. Rochester had to leave for London on business before you could ever have the chance to marry."
"Pardon me?" I interjected. What in heavens name was Mrs. Fairfax saying? A deathbed? Business in London? Had not Mr. Rochester told them of Mr. Mason and…his wife? Surely there was some mistake here.
"Why, the business about that investment in a London company. It is such a shame that he had to be called away on such short notice when, if things had gone well, he would have been marrying you. He told me, too, that he did not want to marry you while his affairs were so uncertain, and I completely agree. It would be no good to either of you if you married and then found that he had lost all of his money because of this investment business. I understand the situation completely, so you needn't be worried about concealment."
Concealment? This was utter madness! Had Mr. Rochester really invented some story of a dying woman and business affairs in London? For what purpose? The only benefits of this lie would be that I would not be pitied and he would not be considered as doing wrong. Could he lie simply to protect his character? In any case, it was not my place to disillusion the good Mrs. Fairfax. However much I might detest lying of all kinds, it was not right for me to expose my master as a liar. I must continue this charade.
Breakfast passed without any particular distinction. Mrs. Fairfax sat by me throughout the meal and then engaged me to help with sorting through some of Adele's old clothing. Adele herself had gone off with Sophie to play in the gardens, saying to me as she ran outside, "Mademoiselle, I am running away avec Sophie! We shan't be back until lunch."
The morning passed in suspense for me, though I endeavored to appear much as usual. Mrs. Fairfax attributed my little nervousness to the annoyance of having had my wedding delayed, but it was actually from dread of meeting Mr. Rochester. I knew from my friend that he had taken a ride early in the morning and was not yet returned; it necessarily followed that I would see him when he came home, sometime around dinner. My feelings wavered from extreme dread to strong desire to wishing I would not be near when he came. What would he say? How should I act? Mrs. Fairfax expected us to treat each other the same as before, but she was under mistaken notions. My thoughts swirled around my head like a raging river, never giving me a moments rest. I was sincerely grateful that my mind was not required in any of the little tasks Mrs. Fairfax assigned to me. Indeed, if I had been left to myself I would probably have sat motionless in a chair, just thinking over the whole state of things again and again.
At every sound from outside I would start and look up. More than once I had risen from the table where I sat with Mrs. Fairfax to go to the window; each time I was both disappointed and relieved to find that what I thought had been an approaching horse had merely been a stable boy passing across the gravel path or John returning on some errand or other. By the time I peeked through the curtain for the second time in ten minutes, even the patient Mrs. Fairfax was slightly irked by my behavior.
"You will hear the horse's steps long before he arrives," she informed me, "There is no need to watch out the window for him every few minutes. You might as well just sit in the window casement and stay there!" This brought me back to my post in a hurry, and I managed to stay seated for a full half hour. Still, time dragged by without bringing any sign of him. Where on earth could he have gone? He rarely stayed out for this long!
After another hour of anxious waiting on my part, I was finally rewarded, or punished, with the sound of a horse approaching at a leisurely pace. In a moment I was out of my chair and pulling the curtains aside, my eyes scanning the yard anxiously.
It was indeed Mr. Rochester. He sauntered up to the house as if he had not a care in the world. How could he be so calm? I must go to him! Carefully opening the old window, I leaned forward to call to him, but stopped when I beheld the murderous expression on his face.
"Miss Eyre, why do you lean out of the window in this way? Should not you be teaching Adele now?" He asked stiffly. I froze in my place. "Well, Miss Eyre?" He questioned sharply, "Are you incapable of speech?"
"No, sir." I replied numbly, shaking my head and closing the window, but he stopped me once again, his manner softened slightly. I do not know what emotion I saw veiled in his eyes; it might have been pity or it might have been love, but it was there, if only for a moment. The next moment he was harsh again and said:
"You have not answered my first question. Where is Adele, and why aren't you in the schoolroom with her?" I could not answer him at first. My voice was caught in my throat and I knew if I spoke my emotion would be evident, yet I dared not stay silent. To my immense relief Mrs. Fairfax, joining me at the window just then, answered for me.
"Oh, I told Adele and Sophie to go play in the gardens so that Miss Eyre and I could get through some of the household business. Which reminds me, I wanted to know what you wished me to do with Adele's old clothes. I know we usually use the scraps, but the orphanage asked if would donate to them." Mrs. Fairfax continued in this manner for some time, unheeded by either Mr. Rochester or me. We stood completely still in a sort of horrid staring contest; he looking coldly at me and I looking questioningly at him.
This did not end until Adele, just returned from the gardens with Sophie, came bounding up to us saying, "Monsieur Rochester, Monsieur Rochester, when may I go to town again? Mademoiselle Eyre and I enjoyed going to town the other day, and you did not get me a present as you promised!"
"Be off, child! I don't want to hear your chatter." commanded Mr. Rochester. Adele, not in the least bit put out, skipped out of the door with Sophie's hand in hers. Then, without a glance at me, he ordered his supper from Mrs. Fairfax and went to his room, leaving me wounded and confused. What had caused this change in a man who had so violently claimed my love not twelve hours before? What had possessed him to turn from a passionate man into a cold, hard statue, not caring for me anymore than he cared for the madwoman who resided upstairs?
It was with a heavy heart that I returned to my menial tasks with Mrs. Fairfax. My fingers worked mechanically, though my mind was many miles away. A ceaseless torrent of questions swept across my mind like the wind sweeps across the moors at night, one haunting me more than any other: Which was worse, living with a man whom I loved and who loved me but whom I could never marry, or living with a man whom I loved and who despised me?