Jane's POV

It was not in the despair of love unrequited that the most pain arose; it was in the tortuous uncertainty of hope, slim, tenuous, and almost too frail to actually hold together. Unfortunately for my peace of mind hold it did, and it gripped my heart in such agony of despair I thought it possible I should perish.

How was it that such a thing as this hope could pierce me, and fill me with its arch enemy, despair, how could two such feelings live in such proximity? And how dearly did it cost me as they waged war with my heart as their chosen field of battle.

I had lost the fight for reason and sanity. I knew as much when I awoke on the cold wood of the floor after I lost consciousness. Leah had come upon me and assisted me to my room; I think I frightened the poor girl when she found me. At first she importuned me concerning my health, but when I replied there was nothing the matter with me, she grew cool; she probably thought I was putting on assumed airs of delicacy above my station. At that time I did not concern myself much with her opinion, I had more pressing matters weighing on me, a onerous burden I would sooner have been without.

What curse was on me that forbade me to be well content with my lot? I was in a good position, well housed and modestly paid, why could that not be enough? Would there ever be relief from this too restless heart of mine?

I was now clear of the preference I entertained for my master, but in the same way was I equally certain that he in no way reciprocated my regard.

There were but two courses that I saw opened to me. One was to ignore the feelings and by dint of concealment continue in my place, or, to once again throw myself on the mercies of a none to certain fate and advertise yet again. I could neither commit to a course nor dismiss it from my mind. I was in a perfect state of alternating between ideas like a metronome.

For three nights I went down to the drawing room after dinner. For three days I suffered the keenest anguish that was imaginable, seeing, hearing Mr. Rochester interact with Blanche. It was quite clear that there was no particular attachment on her side; she only sought the material advantages such a union could offer. Of his heart, of his self, as flawed as I knew it was, she had not the slightest interest.

I became so pathetic and wretched in my preoccupation that it seemed to my fevered ears as if every word spoken was Miss Blanche Ingram's name. Even the twittering of the birds seems to conspire to mock me in this regard.

One day in utter desolation of heart I fled immediately after school was done and walked the good way to the church. I was conscious of a throbbing in my head beginning to build, I hoped the walk should serve to assuage it some.

The door was open as ever, inviting the wretched and lost souls to find comfort and solace there. I entered and sat on a pew near the front, not sure what I expected to find. I thought of many things as I sat in the silence, I thought of the friend of my youth,Helen, I wondered what quiet and sensible council she would give me in this situation. However Helen's voice was mute in my mind. There would be no help for me from that quarter; I would have to find the answers I sought myself.

I sat till the sun lengthened the shadows and bathed the fields in a russet light.

I must have been more tired than I realized, for I was woken by someone clearing their throat, I started in my seat and turned to face Mr. Wheatly.

He smiled apologetically. "Miss Eyre, I hope I have not startled you."

I quickly rose to my feet, noting the darkness that was pressing around me. "It is very late, I must be going to Thornfield, they will be quite worried, I will be missed soon."

"Indeed, I am somewhat afraid it is too late for that, Mrs. Fairfax has sent servants inquiring for you, and I thought to check here. Come. I will take you back. You are not well enough to walk back to the hall in your present state."

I was dazed and weary, too worn to protest. I permitted him to have his way, though I would have preferred to return alone and have the longer to rearrange my thoughts.

The night was quiet; I could smell the strong, earthy smell of freshly ploughed fields. My companion did not utter one word to my during the trip. I could notice him stealing sidelong glances at me from time to time, but I did not resent them at the time.

All my life seemed to be so convoluted at the moment; my brain seemed unable to let cold, practical rationality be its guide any longer.

The walk was long; I walked slowly, feeling a most appalling weakness eating at me. It was with relief that I noticed the great hall looming closer. As I approached the door I once again heard the strange, sybilic laugh that mocked me from time to time in the night.

My companion halted, "That is an odd laugh, a servant here?"

"I am not sure, I often hear the sound now, but it only comes at night."

There was a curious wrinkle to Mr. Wheatly's forehead, he looked slightly disturbed and scanned the top floors with a look of apprehension.

He left immediately that I entered the hall, refusing Mrs. Fairfax's supplications that he take a cup of tea. As he left she turned to me.

"Ah, Miss Eyre, You had best go up and change. Master has asked that you be in the drawing room as soon as you get in."

I know not from where stemmed my sudden rebellion, but all at once I rose up inside. This had gone on for long enough; this was unfair and cruel, even if unintentionally inflicted.

I took a breath and turned to the housekeeper, "No, I think not. I am fatigued from my exertion and would rather retire to my room for the evening. Adele is now in bed and I am not an asset to the party, so they could have no reason to notice my absence."

The poor woman looked at me as if I had taken leave of my reason, which, later on reflection I believed to be the case.

"But Miss Eyre, Mr. Rochester himself gave orders this evening when you were first not to be found…"

"I am sure that my entrance at this point could only be a interruption to the evening, if he inquires further, tell him I am weary, or better, have him come to me himself in the morning if it is of such importance."

There was an audible gasp from the poor woman at my audacious reply, but I heeded it not. I felt a revolution growing inside of me. I grew heady with the mutinous feelings. A very fever seemed to grip me in my defiance. I retired to my room breathing deeply, attempting to calm my racing thoughts.

I retired to my room feeling as if I were a newly freed slave, a sense of emancipation cloaked my thoughts and I did not yet feel the dread and guilt that my rebellion would eventually give way to.

By midnight I was consumed with a fever that burned me like the hottest days in August. I felt as if I should burst in flames, there was no water that could quench, no shade could ameliorate the anguish I was in.