This scene takes place toward the end of chapter 27. Jane resolves to leave and prepares to sneak out before sunrise. On her way out she stops outside Mr. Rochester's door.

I'd spent the better part of the night pacing the floor, wracking my brain, searching fruitlessly for an expedient that would repair my tattered prospects. I had to convince Jane to forgive me.

Goddamn that blasted solicitor Brigs! But for his meddling I could have at this very moment been ensconced in a London hotel. Abed, my arms wrapped soundly about my lovely one. Secure in the knowledge that she was mine. But it was not to be. My well laid matrimonial plans were thwarted upon the very alter.

When Jane eventually emerged from her room, I had expected her to rage, to strike at me. But she did not. No, she was deathly calm. Her stoicism in the face of utter despair struck a blow far more deadly. She had cut me from her heart completely. She would not even share her grief with me. When I tried to comfort her, she shunned my embrace.

In desperation, like a fool, I confessed everything to her. With my last shred of rationality, I clung to the vain hope that if she only understood my circumstances she would sympathize. I revealed more of my troubled past to her than I had disclosed to anyone. I told her how my father had conspired with Jonas Mason to fool me into a union with his lunatic daughter. The grasping callous blaggard! Without a shred of remorse, he knowingly exchanged my happiness for a share of that family's wealth.

I'd never indented to deceive her. I had striven long to avoid exposure. It was necessary to conceal Bertha's presence from her, as I had from all society. How was I to know when I charged Mrs. Fairfax to find a suitable governess for Adèle, she would instead find the very desire of my heart? I was in love with her before I knew it. I could not risk losing her by revealing my secret.

I had planned to take her away. To repair with her to my estate in the south of France, never to return to this cursed place. She never would have learned what a fraud she had married. And in that blessed ignorance we could have found bliss, along the shores of the Mediterranean.

But what was I thinking? We WOULD be happy I vowed. Goddamn it all, I would find a way to mollify her. To prove my devotion to forsake all others and concern myself only with her happiness.

Impatiently, I awaited the hour I would meet her again, when I could try my case anew. I was mulling it all over for the hundredth time when a sound roused me. A door was made to close, then a creaking step advanced along the hall. It halted just before the entrance of my chamber. In silence I watched the handle move, as if a hand was rest upon it from the opposite side. But the door remained closed, the handle returned to its former position.

What diablery was this? Of late only one foul creature lurked these halls in the dead of night. I moved quickly to the door, throwing it open, prepared for violence.

Through the darkness I saw that my overstimulated brain had leapt too hastily to conclusions. It was not the mad woman, but Jane. Her face was tear stained and pallid with grief. She stood frozen in surprise. She had not expected to be discovered lingering here. Even in her harried state she was like an angel, a gleam of light that penetrated the dark misery of my despair.

I opened my arms to her, and mercifully she stepped into my embrace. She laid her cheek against my chest, and I held her as she quietly wept. I waited patiently, praying this small show of amnesty was a sign she was indeed capable of forgiveness. When the tide of emotion had run out, I led her into the room. I seated her in my chair, then sank to my knees on the carpet before her. I cupped her face in my hands, sweeping her tears away with my thumbs. She met my gaze only briefly, then turned from me.

Would that she had struck me. My lacerated heart was rent open afresh. As the desert wanderer despairs upon discovering his illusory mirage has dissolved to dust. My head fell piteously into her lap.

"Jane, cease this torture. Have mercy!" I pleaded. "It is in your power to end my suffering. Forgive me. Say you will be mine- my little wife."

"Mr. Rochester, I've told you I cannot."

"You will..." I raved, fisting my hands in her skirts. "I beg you, see reason! I know you love me."

She braced her hands against my shoulders in a feeble attempt to force some distance between us.

"Sir, you are a married man. You are bound to anoth-"

Every nerve rung with fury at her words. I could not bear to hear her say it. To hear her speak of that hag, to name HER as my wife. My head shot up and I shook her sharply.

"Don't speak of it! YOU are my wife. We WILL marry, no one need know."

"I will know!" she rejoined. "When I stand before God, what account will I give?"

"God sent you to me!" I lamented. "His will is greater than man's law."

"I will not disregard the law, or disrespect myself." She paused a moment to cool her indignation, then proceeded with an air of infuriating calm. "It is our duty to bear what we are charged to bear."

"Don't speak to me of duty. I have done more than many a man would do in my place. I have provided for her, sheltered her. I've sought council from a legion of medical men. All for naught. Each passing year she grows worse, more vile, and violent. Yet I never fail to fulfill my obligation.

"And what of me? Do I not deserve even a morsel of happiness? What shall sustain me? Who will comfort me in my solitude? I require an equal, a friend and partner to share my life!" I stroked her cheek. "You are what I desire, my little linnet. You are the companion my heart has long sought. You are all that matters. How can I make you see?"

I kissed her lips, her jaw, her throat, despite her efforts to check me.

"Stop..." she gasped. "We can not submit to temptation, regardless of our sentiments."

Taking no heed of her protestations my hands roved treacherously over her, snaking under her skirts. I remember even now how her eyes shone with ire. Her stubborn willful defiance of truth drove me to extremity.

"I'll prove my devotion," I growled as I wrested her legs apart. "Like this... " I scraped my teeth along her neck, no longer caring if I marked her. I baited her with reckless kisses as my hands groped possessively up her thighs.

Her breath caught and I saw she was fighting an inward battle. Reason, for the time, prevailed against temptation. She gripped the arms of the chair, holding herself as still as a statue.

"Mr. Rochester please!" she hissed.

I slid my fingers over her sex, gently stroking her, deftly teasing her. Slowly, I stripped away her defenses.

"Tell me truthfully, I know you want this as much as I."

"We can't," she panted.

Notwithstanding her protestations, her body was primed for my touch. My fingers were slick with her wetness, and she began to whimper as I grazed my thumb over her clit. I kissed her throat, then slid my fingers inside her. She moaned and her body surrendered. Her forehead fell to my shoulder.

"God forgive me," she uttered almost imperceptibly. She took my face in her hands and kissed me.

"Mon petit Janet," I muttered, smiling against her lips as I exalted in this first triumph. I pulled her to her feet and stumbled with her to the bed. Crazed and sleepless as I was, I did not scrutinize her attire. My only concern was removing it. Had I been in my right mind I would have noticed her cloak as I slid it from her shoulders, her practical dress and sturdy walking shoes. They were forgotten as each item was discarded upon the floor.

She was desperate for my touch. She clawed at my waistcoat making quick work of its fastenings, and those of my britches. She practically tore my shirt from me as I pulled it free. Her scruples abandoned, she fell headlong into license.

I pressed her back upon the bed. She sunk down onto the linen as I covered her, I let the weight of my body oppress her. I pinned her wrists above her head. I kissed her lips, slipping my tongue into her mouth. I nuzzled my face against her breasts. I kissed every glorious inch of her porcelain skin.

I sucked her nipple into my mouth, flicking my tongue over the pointed peak. She mewled and whimpered as I gently grazed it with my teeth, just as she liked. I slid my hand down her body, stroking her breast, the curve of her waist, the swell of her thigh. I traced up between her legs, running my fingers along her swollen lips. I cupped her sex, pressing firmly against her mound. She shifted, pressing against me.

She took my cock in her hand.

"Quickly," she urged as she guided me between her thighs.

Groaning, I thrust into her. She was a balm. She soothed my aching wounds, though nothing could cure the mad, ever pressing need for her. I withdrew and thrust into her again. I released her wrists to hold her face in my hands as I kissed her mouth. She gripped my ass. Her fingers dug into my flesh pulling me closer. She wrapped her legs about my flanks, driving my cock deeper.

"You are a part of me." I whispered as I slowly withdrew to thrust into her again. "As true as my own flesh."

She shook her head. She had no patience for tenderness. No want of endearments, she craved fire and force. I would give her her reign.

I turned onto my back, pulling her atop me.

"Ride me," I commanded.

The corners of her mouth rose with determination. She slid onto my cock, wasting no time setting a steady pace. I watched, mesmerized, as she availed herself of my body. Her hand slid over her belly, then between her legs, bringing herself even greater pleasure.

Of their own accord, my hands moved to cup her breasts. Their hypnotic movement, in time with the motion of her body was too great a temptation to ignore. I squeezed her flesh, groping to the edge of pain. Her eyes closed and she moaned. I gripped her waist, pulling her down hard as I bucked my hips up, driving into her. Her legs quivered. Her breath was short and frantic with exertion.

Her body convulsed as she cried out with pleasure. Then she fell limp, panting across my chest.

"Dear God," she gasped.

As I waited for her to regain her senses, I pleasured myself. Cock in hand, I closed my eyes and relived the preceding moments. I focused on the feel of her body close to mine, and the scent of her hair. She turned her head to observe me. Ere long she placed her hand over mine and I deferred to her. She stroked slowly, then gradually increasing both speed and pressure, she mastered me. She moved down my body, kneeling between my legs. I felt her lips crown my head before sliding down my cock. Her tongue glided along my shaft then flicked over the head as she withdrew. She looked up. My heart nearly stopped as her gaze locked with mine. I watched paralyzed as she took my cock deep into her throat. Far too soon I was done for. My seed poured out with unparalleled pleasure. Her eyes still holding mine she withdrew. Her lips were glazed with my spendings. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, smiling at me. Oh my sweet Jane, I was utterly vulnerable to her charms.

I reached for her as she laid down upon my chest. I held her, her cheek pressed to my beating heart.

I was struck by a sudden sense of clarity. It dawned upon me that I did possess the means of persuasion required to make her utterly beholden to me. Exigency required I turn to account what materials were at my immediate disposal. I rooted through the pile of clothing on the floor quickly locating her stockings. Taking one, I looped it around the crook of her elbow.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to bind you." I stated plainly as I proceeded to secure the ligature around her knee.

"Whatever for?"

I continued my task, ignoring her question. I restrained the opposite side as I had the first, elbow to knee.

An impetus of power swept through me as I surveyed her. I ran my hands over her thighs. She flexed, testing her bonds. I watched her expression change as she realized she was helpless, at my disposal to use as I would. But I would not abuse my power, I meant to pleasure her repeatedly until she was nothing but a quivering mass of palsied nerves. To make her forget herself and fall into madness. Perhaps then she would cease to deny the truth of our passion.

"I have something for you, a wedding gift."

"Not jewels," she protested.

"No, not jewels, not tonight." I wrapped my fingers around her neck. "But mark me, one day soon my love, I promise I shall secure a circlet of diamonds around this throat." I swept my fingers down between her breasts. "I'll watch the pendant dance and dazzle my eyes as it bounces between your bared breasts," I ground my cock against her, "as I fuck you. Mid day, with the Mediterranean sun and the sea air streaming through the open windows. Would the Rochester jewels suit you then?" I did not wait for her response. I left her to ponder that scene as I retrieved a small casket and a phial of oil from my trunk.

I returned to the bed placing the objects beside her. I unstopped the phial and held it aloft. I let the contents drip slowly onto her, one meagre drop at a time. I anointed her breasts, her belly, and her thighs, then massaged the oil into her skin, as the soothing fragrance of lavender fill the room.

I opened the casket and retrieved its contents. A gift I had intended for the wedding night. A difficult, but not impossible item to procure if one has the means and the proper channels. It was a phallus, carved and polished smooth. I held it before her. I watched her eyes focus upon it, then dart to mine.

"What is that?" she questioned warily.

"A wedding gift," I smirked. My wife shall receive all her desserts."

"I'm not your wife," she rejoined.

I slid the object between her breasts, spreading the oil from her skin onto its surface. I ran it along the outside of her sex. Her lips spread as it glided along her furrowed flesh. I took my time allowing her anxiety and anticipation to build. Finally, I placed the tip at her opening and slowly penetrated her. She sighed contentedly as it filled her. I pulsed the effigy steadily, slowly nurturing her desire. I spread her folds to reveal her pink swollen clit, a treasure ripe for plunder. I hovered over her, briefly teasing her with my warm breath before sucking the little bud into my mouth. I oscillated my tongue over it, feeling her body quiver and flex against her bonds. I fucked her harder, faster, until she was moaning and gyrating against my face. She came. I watched her sex and her asshole tighten in a spasm of pleasure and she cried out, but I did not relent. She pressed her thighs against my shoulders defensively, but I continued without pause.

"Oh God, Edward, I'm going to come again," she panted. Her head fell back and her whole body arched in a paroxysm of pleasure.

I withdrew the phallus and gently rubbed her swollen tender lips, soothing her. Without warning I slapped her sex sharply. She bucked and cried out with dismay.

"No more," she pleaded breathlessly.

Like a fiend, I ignored her plea. I kissed her mound gently. I slid my tongue over her delicate lips, feeling them dance and flutter with each movement. I poured more oil onto my fingers then pressed them inside her. I curled them upward stroking firmly against the upper portion of her sex.

"Oh…," she panted "not again." She went rigid and she screamed. I tasted her sweet nectar as a rush of fluid ran down my fingers.

"Jane you are exquisite." I marveled as she lay languid on the bed. "By my count that was four.

Shall we continue?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"I'm going to make you come, again and again until you concede you are indeed my wife."

"I can not be your wife," she protested weekly.

"Then we shall continue."

I straddled her, moving up her body. I pushed her breasts together and slid my cock between them. Advancing further I rubbed it against her face, over her lips.

"Open your mouth," I demanded.

She opened and I pushed my cock into her waiting mouth.

"That's right my lovely," I exalted. "Make me hard and ready, so I can fuck your little cunt and make you scream."

I retrieved the phallus. I primed it and my fingers with more oil. I pulled her to the edge of the bed. Her legs still bound, her sex spread open and defenseless, as I stood before her. I rubbed my fingers over her ass teasing the puckered entrance before sliding one inside. With the other hand I teased her clit. Slowly I pushed the phallus into her asshole.

"My sweet, I love to watch you while I play with your ass. You can't conceal you true nature from me, my good little girl craves a spark of the devil."

I slowly moved the implement within her, as she writhed upon the bed. Forcing her to come once more.

"Look what a mess you are Jane," I taunted. I trailed my fingers over her face, spreading her wetness upon her lips, then sucking them into my mouth.

I left the phallus seated securely in her ass. I placed my cock at her entrance, stretching her open but going no further.

"Does it feel good my pet? Do you like it when I play with your clit and tease your cunt?"

"Yes," she whimpered.

"You're so full, but you need your master's cock inside as well."

I thrust deep into her, burying myself to the hilt with one steady movement. Without pause I pulsed into her. My hands alighted on her knees pinning them down to the surface of the bed. I took my pleasure greedily, spurring myself to the edge of control. I had to break her, I rubbed her clit with my thumb.

"This is how you like it Jane, your ass and your cunt filled with cock."

She could only moan in response to my mad ravings.

"You love it, you want it you succubus. You want me to fill you with my come. I'm going to plow your belly like this every night until your body swells with my child."

She was moaning, arching, and writhing on the bed. Then all at once she was silent. Every muscle went taught; her breath stagnated in her chest. Then she gasped and moaned deeply as her body sung with pleasure. I could no longer contain myself. My vision blurred, the earth moved beneath me. I poured my seed into her cunt, sowing it deep inside her.

I briefly recall that I untied her, and massaged the blood back into her limbs. I held her close.

"I love you Jane." I murmured as exhaustion and sleep claimed me.

When I awoke it was to find the room bright and the bed empty. There was an insistent knock at my door. I pulled on my dressing gown and went to answer. As I opened it I saw Mrs. Fairfax, her face contorted with anxiety. She was so overwrought she was pressed beyond the propriety of her station. She looked at me suspiciously then pushed past me to inspect the room.

"I cannot find Miss. Eyre!" she accused heatedly.

"She is not in her room, nor anywhere else to be found about the hall. I sent John to search the grounds an hour ago, but he has not returned."

The realization struck like the knell of doom. Her dress the night before, her cloak. She was attired for walking! She was making good her escape when I'd discovered her outside my door. My intervention only delayed her departure. I barked some orders to continue the search for her, then began to dress hurriedly. I would mount my horse and go after her myself. As I moved across the room I spied a note on my writing table. I snatched it up and tore it open, instantly recognizing her small, neat handwriting.

"My dearest Edward,

Please find it in your heart to forgive me.

If thy right eye offends thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee. For it is better that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.

God keep you,

-J.E."