A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Your reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated.
I case you are new to this story:
The idea of writing a story of a 21st century girl suddenly landing in the world of fiction, sprung from the BBC mini series "Lost in Austen". I felt like it had to be done again. This time for my favourite novel "Jane Eyre."
I'm excited to hear your thoughts on what I've written so far. I appreciate your opinion and support. It really helps when the going gets tough to know that there are many of you out there who are as passionate about the novel as me!
Disclaimer: I do not own the plot or the characters of "Jane Eyre". They belong to the wonderful Charlotte Brontë. The main idea is based on "Lost in Austen".
Thanks for your reviews and general support. Enjoy!
CHAPTER VI - STORMY TIMES AHEAD
It had been quite the stormy night. Not only had a blizzard shaken up the trees outside, the branches of the giant oak tree outside scraping at my window, but I was also quite shaken up myself. My good night's sleep had gone out the window, because some very strange nightmares had pestered me all night long. It was unbeknownst to me where they had come from. Perhaps they had sprung from some deep, dark corner in the maze that was my subconscious. Perhaps I was more terrified than I had previously realised. I suppose I had been suppressing my discomfort for a little while too long.
The storm had raged through half the night and the nightmares were still haunting me at present, not yet washed from my system. One of them in particular would not leave my head. It had been about my mother's passing. In the dream, though, I was forced to watch my mother being murdered in front of my very eyes. The very thought still sent chills down my spine, although this was not the way she had really passed away, it seemed equally as terrible. The image of her screaming on her knees while a random thief stabbed her in the chest made my blood boil and my skin crawl. I began to shiver, although I had been sweating all night.
I had felt completely drained and empty the moment I awoke. Not quite certain at first where this feeling of unease stemmed from, I was now very well aware what had unsettled me. Alas, the dream of my mother had not been the only nightmare I had had. Another one was about Bertha Mason setting Thornfield Hall on fire by setting light to Jane's wedding dress. As I very well knew, this was more an ominous omen of upcoming events, rather than a fictitious nightmare. I now felt my heart growing increasingly heavy. I felt trapped, my energy drained, my mind blank, as if I had experienced great hardship.
A feeling of sheer terror still lingered in my bones. I had not dreamt of my mother in a very long time. I think the last time was when I was still a child, not that I had grown up very much since then. I often still felt rather childish, particularly now when I had no control over my current situation, or so it seemed. Perhaps it was time to take my fate into my own hands. I was sure that I would think about my mother all day now. She would keep popping into my mind at random intervals, reminding me of her passing. These kinds of dreams only surfaced when I was feeling particularly anxious. The main problem was that I knew I still had many challenges to face (not just in this world, but also in my own life), but, unfortunately, I felt weaker than ever in this moment.
First things first, I told myself. I got out of bed rather grudgingly and started my day. I still had to continue teaching Adèle. Once my energy levels had risen a little, and I had had a good breakfast, I was sure my mood would improve, though. Then I would have to hatch a plan, so I could reunite Jane and Mr. Rochester, and I could return home at last. I knew my (slightly unhealthy) obsession with the Victorian era and the novel Jane Eyre was what had brought me here in the first place - by some inexplicable act of fate - but this was not where I belonged. That was clear to me know. In a way, I knew where my place was more clearly now than before. Hopefully, I would be able to break free of my daydreams and finally start my life when I finally got back. I had been stuck in some kind of fantasy vortex for far too long. It was certainly not healthy. I had to let go of my Jane Eyre obsession and adapt to the time I actually lived in.
Perhaps I would always be a little behind the times, but this would not pose a problem. I had the choice not to have my face glued to a screen, and instead have my nose stuck in a book. I could be anything I wanted at any time. The only thing was, I had to begin to accept myself the way I was and give myself a break for once. Nobody is perfect and everything in good time. That was what my father always said. I would find a decent job (certainly!), which paid well and was fulfilling at the same time. I would find a partner who fitted to me well and treated me like the lady I was (har har!) I could have it all (sure, why not?) My fear had held me back for far too long. My escapism into the world of Jane Eyre and this yearning feeling of something missing had brought me here, to this very moment of epiphany. Everything would surely fall into place. I simply needed to get myself sorted out now. I felt perhaps what had been missing all along was a sense of purpose. Well, I certainly had a purpose now!
XXX
The wind was still howling mournfully outside like a lost soul that morning. The rain was pelting heavily from an ominously dark sky. Maybe this darkness inside of me was all the result of this place. It was slightly depressing to live so cut off from society, so enclosed in one big mansion with no one to speak to (at least now that Mr. Rochester was gone.) I stared outside at the dismal weather for a moment before one of the maids came into the room. I was entitled to a bath each and every day if I wanted one, but I still had trouble with the gowns, particularly the laces at the back of them. This was why one or other of the maids would usually help me slip into my dress.
As I stood in the bathroom looking into the mirror, I saw my mother's reflection stare back at me. I had known this would happen. She would be in my thoughts all day, but this was how I was keeping her alive. The only thing was, I felt tortured by the thought of her, because I truly missed her. That was the reason I usually avoided thinking about her. It was too sad and broke my heart, but I was able to handle those feelings. I just felt so lost sometimes, particularly now that I was seemingly all alone. I began to wonder again, if I was merely a puppet in someone's game. A very twisted game indeed! Was somebody orchestrating this spectacle? How was this possible? Or was this still a dream?
Hopefully, I would find out soon, but perhaps I would never know and I might be forced to accept that there is no explanation. However, if there was any reason for my being here, it must be for me to bring the lovers back together. Whether I was somehow preordained to be here or not, I knew I needed to take the situation seriously, for if this was really happening, it meant a great danger lay ahead, which only I was aware of.
To my surprise, Mrs. Fairfax announced later that day that Mr. Rochester would be returning in a fortnight. I knew this would soon set a scurrying and bustling of the servants in motion, as they prepared the house, because the 'master of the house' was supposedly bringing guests with him, among them none other than Blanche Ingram. What a shock it had been to hear this piece of news!
Why was Mr. Rochester bringing that piece of work of all people? His return would certainly be a relief, but what was he playing at exactly by inviting Blanche Ingram? Mr. Rochester knew exactly what she was about and I knew he still loved Jane, so what was the purpose of inviting a woman who clearly wanted to marry him, but was merely after his fortune? The man was no fool, which was why I felt there was another intention behind his inviting Blanche.
