CHAPTER IX - A STITCH IN TIME...
I certainly felt slightly relieved that I had been able to avoid a great shouting match with Mr. Rochester. The truth always came out in the end, and, in a way, I was no anomaly in this day and age, as people tended to believe in the supernatural. If this belief existed, it could be accepted by even the most rational-minded of people. The only problem was, that I was now no longer trusted implicitly by Mr. Rochester and had to be careful not to lose his trust entirely. It was like I was on probation. If there was any more 'funny business,' I might be thrown out. Well - or told politely to pack my bags and leave.
Before heading back to my room, I checked in on Adèle to let her know that I would not be teaching her for a few days. I thought that Sophie, her French nurse, could take over for a few days, at least when it came to Adèle's French lessons. I suggested Sophie teach Adèle a little about French history or work on her text production skills. I had started working on a French novel with Adèle, but she was bored very easily and it was difficult to capture her interest. Creative writing tasks would help her be able to delve deeper into the meaning of the novel and its characters.
Apart from the previous incident, the day unfolded fairly pleasantly, night time quickly approaching. Winter was upon us, as it was almost November. I felt like time was moving faster now, as there seemed to be fewer hours during the day due to the earlier onset of darkness. Now having little to occupy myself with, I spent my days reading and keeping my distance from Adèle, in order to respect Mr. Rochester's wishes, although I thought to myself that I could still play with her. I was not forbidden from seeing her entirely, after all. However, this activity was also frowned upon by the servants when they saw Adèle and myself having a picnic in the conservatory.
It dawned on me then that Grace Poole must have spread some rumours about me. I was treated like an irksome flee nobody dared come close to. In other words, I was disgraced by Grace (and yes - I do see the irony here.) That woman was far from graceful herself, and I began to loath her as time went on, but, of course, there was another matter at hand, which I had completely forgotten about due to my present predicament. Whatever had happened to Rochester's party of guests that were meant to arrive on this day? When I asked Mrs. Fairfax about it she claimed Mr. Rochester had never mentioned any such invitation to her. But I had witnessed the castle staff scurrying around frantically cleaning the house. What had all that trouble been for then?
"Well, me dear," cooed Mrs. Fairfax in her Yorkshire tongue, "that was on account of Mr. Rochester's return and also because the house was in need of a good old scrub." This was certainly strange. Why would Mr. Rochester pretend to have invited Blanche Ingram? I confronted him later that day after supper: "Mr. Rochester," I began, hoping not to make myself a nuisance, but I needed to know this now. I went on, "I noticed that your party of guests have not arrived yet like you said they would. Let me be frank, it puzzled me a great deal that you would invite Blanche Ingram of all people to this house. Why on Earth would you do such a thing when she is not the woman you truly care for and wish to marry?"
Mr. Rochester gazed at me stoically. "You are very observant, Miss. I must say." Then he smirked a little, "Perhaps there was no invitation after all…" I felt affronted. What was he playing at this time? However, I waited a moment before replying, letting the information sink in, so my reaction would be less passionate. I knew I needed to tread carefully and could not run around accusing Mr. Rochester of wrong-doing while I myself was presently in disgrace. I finally said, "I must confess that I am not surprised. Did you simply mean to rouse my anxiety or Jane's jealousy? Were you hoping I would pass on the message?" Mr. Rochester nodded briefly. I had given him an easy way out, I guess. "Something of the sort. I was not in my right mind, driven a little mad myself as I miss my Janet so. You see, I feel so terribly lonely these days. I wished I had some company, but I do not have any real friends in this world. Well – apart from Jane, that is. But I have nobody to confide in. When I rode off, I was not visiting Blanche. I was simply riding around aimlessly on my steed. Then I stayed in a local inn for a few nights."
I did not pursue the matter further, as I thought it did not really matter anyway. Blanche was not here, and that was the main thing, but I feared Mr. Rochester might really be able to damage his relationship with Jane if he was by himself too long. He was not as strong as Jane was when left alone, and he would eventually seek some other woman's company, even if he only did it to abate his own misery. I was afraid he would fall back into old habits. This was probably rather unlikely at present, but who knew how Mr. Rochester dealt with heartbreak.
"Ruby-" he then addressed me when I didn't reply. I had been too lost in thought to say anything. "You mentioned that you knew where Jane was staying. She is presently in your home, is she not?" Mr. Rochester asked. I nodded apprehensively, because I knew what was coming next. "Why did you keep this from me? We need to venture there on the morrow. I need to see her immediately." His face turned sullen. "Are you keeping us apart? All this time you knew where she was…" He stared at me in disbelief. I quickly corrected him before the situation escalated.
"No, no! Mr. Rochester, of course not! I am on your side, truly," I said this with as much sincerity as I could muster, seeing how angry Mr. Rochester was becoming. "You know," I have been thinking about this for a while now and I believe you to be here on Jane's behalf, certainly, but even if she wishes to be alone at present, I need to see her, for I am sure we can find a way to be happy together. I feel so…" his voice trailed off.
"Helpless?" I finished his sentence. "You feel helpless, don't you?" "Yes, Ruby. I do, indeed. It is a feeling I abhor." "Well, we shall travel to Blackfield, I promise you, but now is not a time to make rash decisions. Can you give Jane a few more days alone?" Mr. Rochester agreed, even if a little reluctantly. I spoke with him a little while longer to calm him down a bit. He was pacing up and down the dining hall, seeming agitated for a while, but by the end of our conversation he seemed to trust me again, at least enough to let me decide when we would return to Blackfield.
After our conversation, Mr. Rochester finally confided in Grace Poole that I had known about Bertha being in the attic all along, and that, at least on that front, I posed no threat. I overheard their conversation in the hallway: "I am not sure what her intentions are precisely, for she speaks in a rather enigmatic manner at times, but if my ability to judge someone's character – despite the strange circumstances – does not fool me, I believe we should give her the benefit of the doubt for now." Grace seemed to accept Mr. Rochester's word without complaint.
When he re-entered the dining room, I asked him, "There is another important matter-" "What is it Jane?" he interrupted me automatically. I was surprised to be addressed thus, but Mr. Rochester quickly corrected himself, "I mean Ruby. I beg your pardon." I let slip his little mistake, continuing, "Could you please tell the staff to stop gossiping about me? I feel like an intruder, somehow they now make me feel unwanted. If I am really a burden to you, I will not hesitate to leave, but I am on your side, truly. I am here to help you reunite with Jane. I am sure you are aware of that. I am not your enemy."
"Yes, I still believe that you must have come here for a reason. However strange some of the circumstances, I will give you a second chance, but if I feel even the smallest inkling that I cannot trust you, I am afraid we shall be forced to part." Mr. Rochester gave me an earnest look, then said, "And I will of course let Mrs. Fairfax know to set the servants straight. I never involve them in my decisions. I do not know how they got wind of my confusion where you are concerned."
"Thank you, Sir," I replied in relief. Of course, I knew exactly how the gossiping must have started, but I was willing to let it slide. To me, Grace Poole would always remain a suspicious figure. Everyone knows that if you tell one person some juicy piece of news, soon the whole staff will know. There are no secrets among servants. Gossiping was in their nature and I didn't blame them for it, only it now made me feel slightly uncomfortable. I did not want to step on anyone's toes.
I seemed to be in a tight spot now, because I was running out of options. Of course, I had no intention of taking Mr. Rochester on some road trip into the fictional town of Blackfield that might exist here. That was to be avoided at all costs. No - I needed to find my way back home. The next day, I even went back to the hedge to see if it would open up again, finding an excuse for Mr. Rochester to be nearby while I did so, but nothing happened. Perhaps I needed to be truly desperate to get back home. If there was a way into this world, there must be a way out of it. However, luckily, the solution would present itself to me sooner than I thought. The very next day, fate seemed to be on my side again. The events that were to transpire would lead us directly back to my hometown of Blackfield.
XXX
It all began with Bertha Mason having night terrors. She began screeching shrilly in the middle of the night from that day forth. Later I found out that she had started having nightmares again due to her belief that Jane was back in the house. She seemed to have overheard my conversation with her, as I had previously guessed, and she must have felt enraged with jealousy. She could, of course, never have guessed that Jane's voice had come from a mirror in the wall, serving as a gateway into my world. How could anyone?
After what was obviously a horrible night for everyone, I could hardly get out of bed the next morning. I was to begin teaching Adèle again with Sophie as my chaperone. She was to make sure I was doing my job correctly, even though Mr. Rochester trusted me for the most part. I actually believe he only wanted to keep Grace Poole quiet by showing her he was being more careful. If Grace herself had the time, she herself would have wanted to supervise my lessons. How ridiculous! As if I was somehow contaminating Adèle's young mind.
The next few days passed by in a fairly routinely manner, but Bertha's nightly screaming sessions did not end. Every morning I was tired due to my lack of sleep. Every night Bertha terrorised the entire household with her shouting and bellowing matches. After a few days had gone by in this manner, I began to feel like I was reliving the same day on a loop. Nothing seemed to improve for me in the daytime, as I was still not fully trusted, and every night I was denied the rest I so badly needed.
A form of action needed to be taken. Why on Earth had nobody told Bertha that Jane was not here anymore? I was sure they could convince Bertha that hearing Jane's voice was simply a figment of her imagination. In any event, Grace began hating me, because I seemed to be the cause for Bertha's night terrors having set in again. If I had not been looking for a portal in the attic and talked to Jane through the mirror, Bertha would probably never have heard her voice. I wondered if Grace had even liked Jane, but I remembered that Jane had also always been wary of Grace, a woman who seemed quite unconventional herself. To me, she seemed rather pig-headed, and, as I was beginning to experience, merciless. Once she mistrusted someone, there seemed to be no way to regain her trust. Then again, she seemed to forgive Bertha her madness, but perhaps she saw this woman as blameless due to her mental issues.
After about a week, Bertha seemed to have calmed down a bit, but I was growing more and more agitated. Even when Bertha's night terrors ceased at last, I felt like I was overstaying my welcome, but at the same time, I did not know how to escape. I was now finally able to catch up on sleep, and I really enjoyed the blissful silence when she stopped screaming at long last, but, as it turned out, this was not the last of Bertha's shenanigans. Soon everyone at Thornfield Hall would be in grave danger.
