Charades

Part 3

It was a beautiful summer evening. Edward wandered alone amongst the gardens of Thornfield. He hadn't requested Jane's company this evening, nor the previous two evenings. He'd secretly hoped she might seek him out herself. To his disappointment she hadn't.

Perhaps she didn't feel she had the right – whilst he viewed her as an equal he hypothesized that she felt the class division between them more strongly. He'd practically ignored it from the time of their first meeting. She'd appeared glad when he'd suggested that their dealings with each other should be informal, but still there was the gap between master and employee which would not be completely bridged until he spoke his mind.

He lit a cigar and went to sit by the chestnut tree. He wondered what he'd do if Jane rejected him. Would he go back to Europe? It did not entice him. The idea of mistresses repulsed him. He had no idea what to do with himself if he could not attach this sweet innocent to himself.

He finished his cigar and was about to return to the house when he heard someone walking past. Glancing in the direction of the noise he spied his beloved.

"Jane," he called, attempting to sound nonchalant when in fact his very heart was beating twice its normal speed.

"Yes, sir?" she stopped and looked in his direction.

"Come sit with me for a while." She looked hesitant. "I mean if you please."

She came hither and sat down. He knew this was the moment of truth — either she loved him and would agree to be his wife or… No, he would not dwell on the alternative.

He did not wish to cause her pain but he knew he had to breach the subject of Ireland and continue the charade that he was to marry Blanche. It appeared to be the only method available to prompt Jane into speaking her own heart. As he did he studied her face. The idea of leaving Thornfield was indeed painful; she mentioned how the sea would be a barrier. He pressed her further – in what way would it be a barrier?

"From England, from Thornfield and—"

"Well?" he asked. Did she have any idea what power she had over him, that her next words would be the deciding factor in his future?

"From YOU, sir."

There were tears in her eyes and her voice was full of emotion. He wanted to believe, to pull her into his arms and reassure her that there was no necessity in departure and yet his insecurities were not satisfied.

"Are you anything akin to me, do you think, Jane?"

She did not answer – it appeared she was battling with her emotions. He continued to speak, expressing some of his own feelings.

"I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you — especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. When we are parted I am afraid that cord of communion will break and then I shall take to bleeding inwardly."

It was quiet around them except for a nightingale singing in the background. "Of course when you leave you'll forget me," Edward said. He'd hoped this last part would incite her to say something, hopefully rebuke him and tell him he was talking utter nonsense.

His plan worked. Jane stood up defiantly and gave him the declaration he'd wanted so much to hear.

When he could bear her anguish no longer, he stood up and swept her into his arms. But she struggled to free herself, not believing his confession of love. He asked her to be his wife, but still she refused to acknowledge the offer as genuine. Then he realized he'd played his part too well. To Jane the charade seemed closer to the truth than his declaration of love for her.

But he was determined that the skeptic would be convinced! He entreated her, spoke passionately of his deep love and begged her to be his. She appeared incredulous but little by little he could see the truth was beginning to sink in.

"Are you in earnest? Do you truly love me? Do you sincerely wish me to be your wife?" she asked.

"I do; and if an oath is necessary to satisfy you, I swear it." With that she agreed to marry him. All the anguish, insecurity and doubt had finally been swept away. His life would be changed forever – with his soul mate at his side.

He pulled her into his arms and this time she accepted him without a struggle. At last she belonged to him. He could love and cherish her, protect and take care of her. He kissed her gently and then held her, savouring the moment, committing it to memory. He promised to make her happy – she would never be alone, hungry, cold or destitute again.

For a few moments he enjoyed the state of pure unadulterated bliss but now his conscience (not as rusty as he might have supposed it was) reminded him painfully that in the eyes of God he was attempting to trap this innocent creature into a defamed union. Curse his conscience! Surely God would have mercy on him?

He looked up into the grey sky and asked for God's forgiveness, to Jane's apparent confusion. She reassured him there was no one who would meddle. There damn well not be! He deserved this happiness, hadn't he suffered enough? Had he not paid his dues?

He was hurting no one by doing this, he told himself. He'd make Jane a good husband. Yes, he would be her husband in every sense but one. She would be none the wiser, and except for a small legal impediment apparent only to him, they could live their lives as one flesh.

But something had changed – the wind had picked up speed and there was a sense of agitation in the air. He felt drops of rain fall and taking Jane's petite hand into his own suggested they return to the house. The drizzle quickly became a downpour and they started to run towards Thornfield. He heard Jane laugh and quickly turned to see her smiling face. This was the face of a woman who was loved and happy. He'd make certain she always looked this way.

By the time they reached the house they were both drenched and he urged Jane to go inside and get out of her wet clothes. Yet his actions were the opposite of his words as he would not permit her to leave him – instead kissing her repeatedly. He felt drunk on his own emotions, on the feelings she incited within him. His darling fairy – what a spell she'd cast on him! How deeply he loved her!

He released her and bid her goodnight, repeating that she should change her garments immediately. She smiled teasingly at him and answered that she would. With that she left him and he watched her disappear out of sight.

He felt dazed – had this really taken place or had it been some figment of his overactive imagination? No it had all been real – her arms about him, her lips on his, her telling him how she would rather death than to be torn away from him. She loved him – he was loved. For the first time in his life Edward Fairfax Rochester was loved. He made his way to his bed chamber disheveled and wet, but smiling from ear to ear.

The storm woke him. He heard a large clap of thunder and the lightning was so bright it illuminated his room. He climbed out of bed, lit a candle and examined his watch. It was just after three in the morning. He slipped on his dressing robe and went to check on Jane.

He knocked lightly on her door. If she was asleep he did not wish to awaken her. He waited a few seconds and then heard movement. She was awake. She opened the door and stood there in her nightgown.

"Are you well, Jane?"

"Yes, sir."

"I thought the storm may have awoken you."

"It did indeed and I thought I should check on Adele."

"We can go together," he suggested. She nodded and they tiptoed over to Adele's room. Jane stepped inside and returned a moment later to inform him that she was sound asleep.

"She must sleep deeply," he observed.

"Indeed," Jane replied as they walked back to her room. He stood in her doorway aching to kiss her, but somehow it didn't feel proper with her only in her nightdress. He didn't wish to embarrass or make her feel uncomfortable.

He asked if she'd be able to get back to sleep and she assured him that she would, and asked the same of him.

"Yes I think so," he answered. They stood for a moment in silence gazing at each other. Edward felt a heat course through his veins even though he was standing in a drafty hallway. He cupped her face with his hand and stroked her cheek with his thumb. The hallway was dimly lit but he could just make out the rosy tinge her cheeks acquired from his touch.

"Jane," he whispered; his voice heavy with desire.

"Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, my love." He knew he should depart but his legs were rooted to the spot. "Jane, have breakfast with me tomorrow."

"No, sir."

"No?" he asked in surprise.

"It would not be proper – not yet."

"And when would you deem it proper, my fairy?"

"It is late, sir, we both should get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow about such matters."

"Very well, but I can see I will have trouble with your stubborn nature," he teased.

"Indeed, sir. I wish you to become acquainted with all my faults so you know full well what kind of bride you will be getting."

"I look forward to you educating me further, Miss Eyre."

She smiled. He took her hand in his, caressing it with his fingers, then brought it to his lips and kissed the warm, soft flesh. "Goodnight, Jane," he whispered.

"Goodnight, sir."

Edward paid for the purchases they'd made in the store in Millcote and followed Jane and Adele out to the carriage. One of the store assistants carried out some of the silks he'd bought for Jane's new wardrobe and the material for her wedding gown, all neatly wrapped up.

As he stepped outside he noticed a familiar carriage pull up and watched as Lady Ingram stepped out, followed by Blanche.

Lady Ingram offered him no greeting – merely an icy cold stare. Not that it mattered; nothing could alter his joyous mood today. Adele had already hurried into their carriage but Jane was at his side and he caught her hand before she followed Adele.

"Lady Ingram, I hope you are well," he greeted.

She seemed put out that he had the nerve to address her. "Mr. Rochester," she nodded, apparently in a rush to walk past and get out of his troublesome presence.

"I believe you remember Miss Eyre," he continued. He knew Jane would be annoyed with what he was going to do next, but Lady Ingram deserved what was coming.

"Yes," she muttered.

"I am happy to announce that in less than a month she'll be Mrs. Rochester."

"You are to be…married?" she asked, shock clearly written on her face.

"Indeed."

"I…well…I suppose congratulations are in order," she said. He knew she didn't mean a word of it and that it pained her to put on a front. It pleased him no end.

"Thank you for your kind wishes. Good day." He smiled and climbed into the carriage with Jane. He caught sight of Lady Ingram and Blanche, rooted to the spot, speechless.

He chuckled.

Jane sat down, promptly removing her hand from his grip. "That was completely unnecessary," she chided.

"Indeed, but so much fun, my darling! Surely you don't begrudge me a little fun do you?" he asked, putting on his puppy dog expression.

Jane ignored him and stared out the carriage window. He moved closer to her and whispered in her ear. "Are you angry with me?"

"No, sir, but I do not see the purpose of humiliating them both."

"Ah, my angel, you are too good a creature. How you can say such things after the way they treated you? And you were not privy to all I had to endure – you escaped to Gateshead while I had to put up with their boorish company."

"If you are attempting to acquire my sympathy, Mr. Rochester, you will not garner it."

"Oh?"

"They were your guests; no one forced you to invite them."

"There's truth in that, but I had my reasons."

"Yes, you did."

Jane had asked him this morning about why he'd gone to such pains to try to convince her he wished to marry Blanche. Her response to his explanation was that he had a curious and designing mind. He'd expected more of a chastisement, and it was to his great surprise that she merely wished to be reassured that Blanche's feelings weren't hurt. She was doing the same now.

"Jane, imagine if you had to listen to some women who thought she was the most superior being on earth, tell you every five minutes, or at least it seemed that way, that you were on the verge of announcing your betrothal to her daughter. Believe me when I say that even the most patient of men would have been sorely vexed."

"It was your choice to play such a charade"

"That is true – but how else was I to secure your feelings?" She didn't answer but turned away. He spied a smile on her face. He sought out her hand and was pleased when she didn't pull away from him as she had on the journey into Millcote.

"Besides I am a bit of a scoundrel as you well know. As for today, well I simply could not let the opportunity pass of putting Blanche and her mother in their place. Especially after some of the things they said about you – you may not feel indignation, but I will feel it for you, Jane."

He remembered the tears in her eyes and how depressed she'd been that night she'd left the main gallery. How he'd had to resist the urge to pull her into his embrace and comfort her. How his heart had ached for her and how he'd wanted to order Blanche and her intolerable mother out of his house that very night! They'd been so cruel and insulting to Jane.

Jane didn't answer but squeezed his hand tenderly. He felt reassured that she was not displeased. If Adele had not been present he surely would have kissed her, alas Jane had insisted on bringing the child along.

But tonight he'd have her to himself, after Adele had gone to bed. He hoped they'd sit together in his study, enjoying each other's company and planning their future.

Lady Ingram could not concentrate on any purchases and after an hour of perusing the finest silks and latest fashions, told the store owner she would have to return another day. Blanche had faired better and picked out some material for a new ball gown.

"I am as shocked as you are, Mother," Blanche began when they were on their return journey back to Ingram Park. "Parading her around like that as if she were one of us!"

"Indeed, my darling. I fear for his sanity — what men in their right minds marry their governesses?"

"Exactly! I admit I always did find it peculiar that he had her in the room with us every evening."

"Yes."

Lady Ingram recalled the evening they'd been talking about governesses. She'd joked with Rochester about how he needed to be on his guard against the creatures – they were known to make eyes at their masters. At first she had not understood the expression on his face. He'd answered saying she surprised him, but now she was certain of it – he'd been pleased at her comment!

If she had not witnessed with her own eyes Miss Eyre standing beside Mr. Rochester today she would not have believed it. And this was the reason her daughter had been cast aside!

Perhaps she should be grateful that Blanche had made a lucky escape. He was not worthy of her. Showing her face at the summer ball would not be such a trial some affair now. In a few days time she was sure all of Millcote and probably the entire county would know of Rochester's marriage-to-be. People would pity her and Blanche for being so unfairly treated, and speak of him as a scoundrel.

Rochester was a fool! He and his governess deserved each other!

Their month of courtship seemed to fly past. Edward put his business matters into order and made travel arrangements for him and Jane. He'd planned an extensive itinerary with her help and they'd consulted travel books together – discussing in detail what places she wished to visit.

He was grateful that in her excitement she'd never asked when they would return to Thornfield. He hoped to stay away from this dungeon and its imprisoned fiend as long as he possibly could.

This last month had been the happiest he'd spent in years. In Jane's company he felt complete and looked to the future with hope. It was after he bid her goodnight and they parted for the night, that doubts would nag at him.

What if something went wrong? Some nights sleep wouldn't come at all as his conscience tormented him, reminding him of what exactly he was doing! And Jane would ask the next day why he looked pale or seemed irritable. His mood usually passed after spending a few minutes in her company, but he knew his soul would not rest easy until he and Jane were miles away from this prison, and the first Mrs. Rochester.

But a battle raged within him – there was quite a conflict. Part of him acknowledged that he was playing a charade – but this was much worse than what he'd done to Blanche. He was being untrue to his beloved fairy – offering himself to her as her husband when he knew full well in the eyes of the law, and God, that he could never be that.

He felt like he was on the edge of a precipice. What should he do? Every idea he conjured up ended the same way – Jane leaving him. And yet perhaps all he was doing was delaying the inevitable. Even if the wedding took place without a hitch and he managed to escape with her to France, there would be a time when Jane would discover the truth. He'd actually promised her that – in a year and a day he'd sworn he would reveal all.

What would she say? How would she feel? Would she leave? Would she despise him?

He knew how stubborn her nature was and how she strictly clung to her moral code. For those reasons he could not breach the truth now, he knew she would leave.

On the other hand a voice convinced him that he was doing the right thing. Didn't he deserve love, like any other human being? And didn't Jane?

Tomorrow morning he'd be a bridegroom. He paced in front of the fireplace in his bedchamber, his mind churning over his thoughts. Yes, this was the right thing to do, he assured himself. It was not his fault that he'd been chained to Mason's insane sister. She was no more his wife than a corpse in a graveyard. He was free – to love and be loved.

Tomorrow Jane would become his bride and wife. He needed to stop worrying about all the things that could go wrong. There was no need to fear – Mason was out of the country and Grace Poole was not going to jeopardize her job. He sighed with relief as he felt confident that tomorrow would be the happiest day of his life and Jane would finally be his.

With this thought he retired to bed.

THE END