This entry will be much longer than usual due to the fact that I haven't updated in a while. I guess you can say, this is me making it up to all my readers who had to wait. I thank you all who have left a review and/or following my story. It gives me great pleasure in knowing that readers, like yourselves, are enjoying my spin of a wonderful classic. I've changed the style of each POV because, reading back on my previous chapters, they weren't true POVs. Hopefully you'll like this new writing style. Please enjoy this new chapter.

Jane's POV

I pushed open the wooden door of the servant's entrance of Thornfield. My mind was still encompassed on the man I met on the path, as I passed through short hallways leading towards the parlor. My thoughts focusing on the man's face, his voice, even his body. As I stepped into the parlor, I noticed a dog, a rather large dog, laying by the fire. It looked like the same dog I saw on the path: black and white coat that was long and shaggy.

"Pilot?"

The dog's head perked up and looked right at me.

"Where have you been?" Mrs. Fairfax exclaimed as she quickly shuffled through another door on the opposite side of the room. Her face looked flustered, as if she had been caught having an un-kept room.

"We are all in an uproar! Mr. Rochester has decided to come home without any noticed once again and he is very badly injured. Said something about falling off of his horse from ice on the path. Anyway, he wants to see you as soon as possible."

"Me?"

"Oh yes, dear! He wants to meet you and go over Adele's progress. Just put on what you have that's best."

"But all my dresses look the same."

"Then try to make one of them look nicer. We all dress our best when we need to speak to the Master of the house."

Mrs. Fairfax then rushed out of the room to finish more preparations. My mind was going a thousand miles a minute.

Could it have been Mr. Rochester that I have met on the road?

It could not have been; the master is probably much older than that gentleman.

But the dog!

What dress to wear?

They are really all the same

What was the chant that I learned in Uncle Reed's book?

Quickly, I went upstairs to change. I pulled one of my plain governess dress', laid it out upon my bed, and spoke an old Gaelic chant over it. A small mist appeared over the dress, then encompassed it. The dress floated slightly above the bed as the mist grew thicker. After a moment, the dress gently laid back on the bed and shown that the light grey color turned into a subdued lavender with small flower stitching throughout. The dress' opening changed from a simple square to a v-shaped that would go from my shoulders down towards the middle of my chest. I put the dress on and even I would admit, I looked pretty in the dress. Still governess approved, of course.

I then started my journey towards Mr. Rochester's study.

What if he recognizes me from the path?

What if he hates me?

What if he disapproves of Adele's progress?

What if he dismisses me?

My thoughts were starting to overwhelm me as I reached the study. I turned the handle, took a deep breath, and made my way inside the room.

Rochester's POV

I sat in my chair by the fire, back towards the door. I have been with Adele for about half an hour asking questions to determine her progress. I have noticed that she has much improved; which I did not think was possible. I then leaned back in my chair and stared at the fire before me.

When is she coming?

What is taking her so long?

Is she still out there?

Frustrated, I started to glared at the fire in the fireplace. I could not help but think it poetic: my thoughts consumed on the mysterious girl just as the fire before me consumed the logs beneath it. After having many women in my life, none has caused me this much captivation within minutes of introduction, if one could call it an introduction.

Patience wearing thin, I was about to vociferate Mrs. Fairfax about what was the meaning of the new governess' delay when the sound of the door opening cause me to be silent.

The atmosphere in the room shifted; as if it was more pleasant, happy even, to be in this room that was once tense from my presence. I knew Miss Eyre entered without turning around and looking. My breathing quickened, my palms started to become weak, even my ankle's pain subsided to a slight throbbing instead of the constant daggers I was feeling after the fall. For the first moment, I did not know what to say.

Luckily, Adele caught a glimpse of her, jumped up in delight, and ran over to me to inform me that her governess, "Miss Eyre", has arrived.

"Tell her to take a seat" I barked loud enough so that Miss Eyre could hear.

I watched her cross over to the over side of the study to sit on the chair opposite of me. Watching her walk, no glide, across the room made me go mad with thoughts.

She looks very young. She cannot be more than twenty.

Her posture is perfect.

She smells like lavender. I think I will tell my gardener to plant more lavender in the garden.

She looks too thin. My servants better be treating her with respect.

The back of her body is very acceptable

Even when she sits down her posture is perfect, almost uptight. Where does she come from?

Her eyes again, so enchanting.

She must be a witch; I cannot stop staring at her.

I could feel my eyes were starting to travel down from Miss Eyre's face towards her chest where her dress began; which I noted actually made Miss Eyre look quite pretty, when Mrs. Fairfax interrupted with the serving of tea.

"Miss Eyre, would you be so kind as to serve Mr. Rochester his tea? I would entrust Adele but being that she is overrun by excitement, I am afraid she might spill its contents."

I gave Mrs. Fairfax a mental thanks as Miss Eyre stood up from her seat and walked over to retrieve my tea. My ankle, now wrapped and bandage thanks to the physician Mr. Carter, began to pick up the intensity of pain. Tea would do me no good now, brandy would be better. But I dare not speak in fear that Miss Eyre would not come over. I could not take my eyes off of her and her lavender dress. She started to look really lovely in that dress. When Miss Eyre turned towards me, I quickly averted my eyes so she would not notice me gazing at her.

I must be indifferent towards her so that others would not suspect anything inappropriate.

By god, I just met her! What is wrong with me?

Miss Eyre walked over and half bowed in order for me to properly grab the tea from her hands so I would not spill it. As I was obtaining my tea from her grasp, I looked in my peripheral vision and saw the top of her dress and the cleavage of her breasts. My heart quickened at the wonderful slight.

I want her.

Thankfully, Miss Eyre did not seem to noticed what had transpired for she then walked back to Mrs. Fairfax to retrieve her tea and then sat down in her chair across from me. So many images, too many inappropriate images, flooded my mind about this young woman sitting across from me. I placed my hands and tea down in my lap so that unnecessary attention would not happen.

I need to think of unpleasant things

Jane's POV

Sipping on my tea, I tried calming my nerves. Looking at Mr. Rochester, he was not attractive according to the fashions of society. His black hair and eyes, broad shoulders, athletic built, and his tall height; which I remember from our previous encounter, does not fit the profile of the wanted picture of a Greek god that higher society deems as 'perfection'. To be; however, more in his presence, the more favorable he became in my eyes.

I must not think of my employer in an inappropriate way.

We are in too different circles. It would just not do.

I began to fidget and cast my eyes down towards the rug on the ground. It is very overwhelming when you know that your employer is staring at you, inspecting you.

He must think me incapable for my job.

Adele came beaming over to Mr. Rochester.

"Does Miss Eyre get a present?" she asked in her thick French accent. I looked up immediately in astonishment.

"Was Miss Eyre expecting a present?" Mr. Rochester replied looking right at me to hear my reply.

"No, sir. I was not expecting one."

"Do you like presents?"

"I would not know, sir. I genuinely think they are pleasant things."

"Genuinely think. Have you ever had a present Miss Eyre?"

"No, sir."

"Well, anyway, I must say that I have examined Adele and see that you have taken great pains with her. She is not bright and she has no talents but I have seen that she has improved greatly in the short while that you have been here."

"Thank you, sir. Hearing praise of my pupil's progress is a great present for me."

Mr. Rochester continued to stare at me with a small smirk forming on his mouth.

"What is your tale of woe, Miss Eyre?"

"My tale of woe, sir?"

"All governess' have a tale of woe! From once do you hail? What is your tale of woe?"

"My parents died when I was young. I lived with my Aunt but she cast me out because I was burdensome. I attended Lowood school until I became a teacher. I have no tale of woe, sir."

"How long were you at Lowood?"

"For nine years, sir."

"Nine years! No wonder you have another world about you in the look of your eyes!"

That last comment took be back. It was as if he could see right through me.

"Were you looking for your people out there?"

That last question stopped my heart.

"Sir?"

"Out there on the path, were you looking for your people: the fairies and the little green men?"

At this question, even Adele and Mrs. Fairfax looked towards our direction, curious as to where the master was going.

Mr. Rochester began to address the group, "She bewitched my horse out there on the lane. She is the one responsible for my sprain."

Slightly in panic, I tried to defend myself, "I was not! Your horse slipped on ice beside me. Besides," I calmed down a little to regain some civility, " all the fairies and green men have left England. It was not wild enough for them."

At this answer, Mr. Rochester gave a chuckle. Adele and Mrs. Fairfax became confused and returned to what was occupying them previously.

Mr. Rochester's stare continued to make me feel uneasy.

He can see right through me!

I think he saw what I was doing out there.

Will he report me?

After a moment of silence, Mr. Rochester exclaimed that his ankle was hurting more.

"And Miss Eyre, what is the meaning of this? It is past nine o'clock and Adele must be in bed! I do not approve of these late hours. Please rectify this situation."

At this, Mrs. Fairfax, Adele, and I got up and proceed towards the door of the study. Adele ran over to bid Mr. Rochester goodnight. Mrs. Fairfax bid him a goodnight as well. I was the last one at the door.

"Goodnight, sir"

Mr. Rochester gave me a gruff in acknowledgement and with that, I closed the door to the study.