Explanation
Some of my ideas were inspired by a fan-fiction rant blog. The writer pleaded with fan-fiction writers to keep the characters that Charlotte Bronte devised as real human beings, not some fluffy supermarket romance creatures. The writer pointed out that Charlotte Bronte depicted her people as very real with human foibles and frailties. Both Jane and Edward had baggage. Edward would not have instantly lost his appreciation for women. He had a history of not always telling Jane the whole truth. Jane, while at Moor House, was under St. John's power. She admired him and still may have been anxious to please him. Someone who spent a childhood abused and unloved could be convinced of her unworthiness. There was a difference in age between Jane and Edward. Also, when one is widowed or divorced, one does not always think clearly and becomes very vulnerable. Jane was always a realist, but she would act rashly when under duress.
I am using the Bronte family as inspiration for characters. For example, James Rochester is similar to the drunken Branwell Bronte—small of stature, dissolute, and dishonest with money. Branwell was a charming and an eloquent companion but only when drunk. Charlotte herself did not care for children. She resented the time spent teaching as it took away from her fantasy world of writing about Angria. Emily's teacher said that she should have been a man. Maybe she would have been like the character Richard Rochester--content with hearth and home. Charlotte Bronte herself was disappointed in love. She could not have the love of her life, M. Heger. So, in the novel "Villette" she killed off M. Paul rather than let Lucy Snowe "have" him. Or did M. Paul die? Charlotte's own father begged her put a happy ending on "Villette" Miss Bronte, had she lived, would have continued to dig into character development. Perhaps her most mature style would have predated Thomas Hardy.
Master Crispin Rivers
The months after losing Edward were a blur of grief and confusion. Then, like an avenging angel, St. John appeared to point the way back to a life purpose. Marriage to St. John, the idea of serving God in a mission was the promise to to give her life meaning again. Her love, her passion Edward was dead. St. John's assessment from those many years ago that she was made for labor, not for love was coming true. In her numb state, that was a comfort. Being useful was the only course for a not so very attractive widow who did not have a fortune.
Within a few weeks, Jane knew that marrying St. John was a terrible mistake that was made when she was desperate. Her life was now fettered to a cold and strange man whom she did not love. The Rochester children James, Richard and Helen turned their back on their mother.
But, God is good—He gave Jane her the child of her heart, Crispin Rivers. Jane looked with awe at the little boy. Fate and circumstance brought her this angelic, almost ethereal creature. No matter what hidden anguish was in her heart, Jane thanked God every day for her youngest child. Crispin was a blessing.
The boy was very fair, so fair that his skin seemed translucent. Crispin's eyes were not just blue, but were like the colors from Jane's paint box marked "cerulean". His features were classic--perfect nose, well spaced large eyes, broad forehead and a sweet expression. The pale hair was grew in loose curls around his head. Jane remembered the carvings of the cherubs she saw in the Renaissance churches in Italy. The child could have been the inspiration for those little angels. He had his father's features, but the coldness was overlaid with Jane's quizzical elfin charm to allay the coldness that St. John's face carried.
Crispin had a sanguine disposition. As an infant, he never cried, never fussed over being cold, hot or unhappy. He simply smiled. It was as if he knew that he could create a charmed circle--Crispin smiled, the world smiled back, he smiled more, the world smiled even brighter and all doors were open to him. St. John wondered if his son was "quite right". In his dour condescending manner, St. John commented that the child was, after all, the product a moment of carnal weakness and the parents were first cousins...
Far from being at all impaired, young Crispin showed that he had a genius about him. He excelled in his school work, as in all tasks presented to his small self. Jane listened with a furious joy to his treble voice as he read aloud from Sir Walter Scott at the age of six. He understood the account books and the finances of the mission at an early age, too. There was a piano in the corner of the mission parlor. One day, Jane found Crispin picking out tunes and singing quietly and joyously.
Jane fussed about her son's fair skin and the climate of Jamaica and Barbados. But, she soon realized that along with intellectual health, Master Crispin was a very sturdy child. Heat did not affect him. On the rare visits to England, he also cheerfully acclimated himself to the cold and damp; wearing the woolen clothing, hats and shoes with good humor. Crispin rarely ever ill. He threw off the occasional cold in a few days and, the usual episodes of mumps, measles and chicken pox were only small detours.
The other children and the adults of the island were as enchanted with Crispin as his mother was. Never did his many gifts or beauty generate envy. Crispin was a kind and patient listener and seemed to be interested in all that others said or did. He quickly and easily made friends with the English and native children alike. The child had many playmates among the native children, even learning the Yoruba based secret language and gaining their trust with ease. The more superstitious inhabitants of Barbados thought that all association with Crispin would seal their good luck.
The child had a vague knowledge of two half brothers in England and a half sister who emigrated to America. Crispin only knew about these people from conversations he overheard. As the England family had no interest in him, Crispin did not sully his charmed universe with thoughts of them. There were also two doting aunties, in England. The elder aunt, Diana, had even made a few trips to Barbadoes and Spanish Town.
One person who did not seem to love Crispin was the man who ought to have loved him the most, his father the Reverend St. John Rivers. It was the only cloud in the young boy' life. St. John spoke of Crispin in the third person, even in the child's presence. When the servants or members of his flock praised the boy, St. John merely looked into the distance. Jane would attempt to have her husband listen to the child play at music, lead him to the school room to witness Crispin's outstanding ability to read, show St. John the account books, or the already fine examples of artwork. St. John's handsome features would turn to marble. He would utter his belief that the evil one must be involved if a child is so perfect.
Crispin was educated by his mother. The mission house had a substantial library. Jane realized that her marriage to Edward Rochester was similar to an extended university education, what with their many evenings of reading and discussions of many topics. She managed to salvage some of the books from Thornfield. If Crispin had been typical of the English residents of Spanish Town, he would have been sent back to England for schooling. Jane could not bear the thought of parting with Crispin. So, she became his only teacher. It was during a lesson about the history of Charles I that a servant came into the schoolroom to say that there were visitors from England.