Despite the enjoyment of the afternoon, the hours of talking, casual lovemaking and eating the food Edward had brought along, the rain did not let up. In fact, it continued to pour and eventually the small place of safety under the thick tree cover where Jane and Edward had not gotten wet began to be infiltrated with rain.
"Jane, I am going to go back to the house and get a horse and then come back to get you"
"No, you cannot. All that riding in the rain will surely make you sick with cold"
"Perhaps, but it is better for me to get a cold then you, in your condition"
"No, I shall be fine, we can just hurry"
He looked sceptically at her, and Jane knew he thought of the rather long time it had taken them to walk to this place from the house. Surely in the rain she would need to be careful of slipping too. The idea of rushing suddenly seemed a silly one to her.
"Send Mr Eshton back for me. He will not mind, and then you will not be so wet"
"No, he would not mind. But riding in the rain is dangerous, and I trust myself over him"
"He is an equal rider to you. You said so yourself-"
"Woman, stop arguing with me" Edward said, his voice becoming raised. "Stay here and stay dry. Here"
He took his jacket off, ignoring Jane's violent protests, and wrapped it around her. Jane took the blanket off the ground and tried handing it to him, but smiling, he took the blanket and wrapped it around his wife's shoulders.
"Stay warm and dry, I will return for you in a few minutes"
He kissed Jane's lips before, without another word, he departed into the rain which drenched him instantly.
"IF YOU GET SICK, I AM NOT SITTING TO COMFORT YOU AT YOUR BEDSIDE" Jane called after him. She knew he would be grinning to himself as he ran away, but she did not find the situation funny.
She stood under the tree, her back to its trunk, stewing with anger. Soon he was out of sight, and Jane was forced to wait for his return.
The atmosphere of rain outside made put Jane in a quiet, reflective mood. She slipped into such quiet contentedness that the long time that passed while she stood there alone seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.
Jane was rarely alone these days. Being pregnant, there were always such a multitude of people around her who were concerned about her well being. At times, it was almost suffocating. She had always thought of herself as very independent ,and so she knew that if she needed help she would simply ask for it. The excessive amount of concern shown to her by others seemed to soothe their anxieties of her wellness rather then secure her own comfort. Edward had been sweetly overbearing in the beginning of her pregnancy- always concerned about the smallest activities such as walking and eating tiring her out. But as time had gone on, he had relaxed into the most wonderful, considerate partner. He helped her when she asked, and pried confessions from her when she tried to hide things, but he did not assume any of her feelings, and he allowed her her own space while never leaving her to feel abandoned. She often wondered where this instinct came from, but answered her own question in knowing how much of a selfless listener he truly was.
Still, she was immensely grateful for the support she received from everyone. Knowing what it was like to live and move through the world alone, Jane could not under-appreciate what it was to have people who loved her and encouraged her. To not feel such would be a betrayal to all she felt in her past.
Jane felt movement in her stomach, a slight kick. The action made her face stretch into the widest smile of which she was capable. In bed at night she was often woken by such an action, and her husband would place his hand on her so that he too could feel their child making its presence known to them.
"Hello my love" she said, softly. "I cannot wait to meet you. Mommy is so excited to bring you into the world. You will be so loved. I feel as if I know you already".
Jane thought often whether her baby could hear her, and though it certainly would not understand what she was saying, could it recognise her voice? Could it recognise its fathers voice? Did it feel the immense love that was ready to greet it?
Jane's thoughts were interrupted by an approaching horse. She straightened up, collecting her things and picking up the picnic basket as she did so. But as the rider came closer to her she realised that it was not her husband on the horse, it was Mr Franklin. His long black travelling cloak billowed behind him as he rode, and his dark hat, which sat on his head on a slant, covered the majority of his face. Jane stopped her advance towards him, feeling a twinge of annoyance in the pit of her stomach. He had a determined, pressing look on his face.
"Good afternoon, and what a beautiful one it is" he said sarcastically, gracefully dismounting the horse and joining Jane under the large tree.
When Jane did not reply to his comment he looked at her, and then out at the rain.
"I see you have found a sanctuary here that shelters for the rain. I am glad I have found it too"
"I am sorry to see your hunting trip has been postponed"
"I do not care, hunting becomes boring very quickly for me. Once you know you can shoot, the game is up"
There was a pause after that comment in which Jane considered all possible routes for leaving, all which involved running out from the trees protection into the rain. For Mr Franklin to have ended up on the side of the property it would have meant a very long and out of the way ride, for the hunting and shooting land was on the other side of the house. Jane thought this rather odd, given the weather.
"You best return to the house" Jane suggested, "The sooner you take off those wet things, the less likely you will catch a cold".
"Nonesense!" he objected, "I am always well, I never ail".
"I am glad to hear it"
"I do love getting out of my clothes though , wet or not" he said, and looked at Jane with an uncomfortably dark look in his eyes, "Nothing better then it".
His last comment was strangely casual, despite the heavy handed implications of his former words.
"I'm not sure why you think I would be in need of such a detail of your personal life, Mr Franklin, but I can assure you that I am not. Indeed, I believe those are the sorts of comments one keeps to themselves, for surely they can be of no interest to any other person and it only makes the speaker seem as if they have nothing more interesting to say".
Jane saw Mr Franklin's jaw clench slightly, it was a short, almost unrecognisable aggressive gesture before his face once again settled into its normal faux-passivity. She felt his mood shift.
"I would not call it a personal detail, Ms Rochester. All men feel such, it is no secret. All men need such. As a married woman you must be aware of such. Or otherwise, you do not satisfy your husband as it is your job to do, and he is off with the rest of us, undressing in other women's beds".
Jane could not help the slight smile that stretched over her face, and the man next to her did not like it. He waited too eagerly for her answer, and when she spoke the response was not near enough angry for his taste.
"I think perhaps it is naive for you to believe you can speak for all men- especially on a personal issue. If all men were what you claim them to be I am afraid the respect held for them would plummet dramatically. I have no doubt of my husbands faithfulness."
His frustration continued to rise. He did not like the fact that he could not gain an angry answer from her. The more drastic and frantic he became, the more soft and detached Jane was. When she turned from his face she could see that he did not avert his gaze from her. His hungry, plotting gaze.
"What of respect when there is brute force?" he asked, grabbing Jane's wrist and twisting it painfully. Jane pushed his chest, attempting to move him away, but the contact only allowed him to grab her other wrist and hold her fast.
"Let go of me or I swear-"
"What? What is it possible for you to do? Scream? You won't be heard"
And suddenly his hand was on her breast, and his other sought to pull up her skirt.
Jane leaned back and punched him as hard as she could in the stomach, causing his to double over, retching and coughing. She ran out into the pouring rain, knowing that such would do her no good. She could not outrun him not even if he was incapacitated for a few minutes. She could not move quickly in the rain, and she could not risk injuring her baby by falling. Soon there was a hand that clawed her shoulder, pulling her back with incredible force. Jane screamed as she was shoved up against the old tree, her head hitting its trunk with quite a force. Dizzy,her head pounding and her eyes swimming, she could not fight being pushed onto the ground. She saw his grotesque face over her and then her dress' panel from chest to waist was ripped, exposing her breasts. Horrified, she attempted to cover herself, but she was more interested in fighting off the animal that attacked her. If what was coming was inevitable, she would at least fight to her last nerve, and inflict as much damage as possible. His hand grabbed the bottom of her face, pulling her inches from his own gnarled mouth. Jane, in wild desperation felt around for some weapon and located it at the end of her fingers. Taking a large branch that had gone unnoticed before, she swung it around and hit him in the back of his head. This diversion allowed her to pull herself out from underneath him and push herself away.
"You will pay for that" he barked, his violent promise as true in his eyes as in the words which were hurled from his mouth.
And then, out of no where, Mr Rochester had come. He had dismounted his horse and descended upon Jane's attacker so fast that she barely had time to register him before he was on top of Franklin, fighting him with such ferocity that Jane knew instantly who the winner would be. Franklin in seconds was reduced to a pleading mess, his face stained with blood, his eyes flitting between Jane and Rochester. She had never seen her husband in a physical fight before, but there was no doubt that he was faster and stronger then his opponent who was immediately overtaken. Jane was aware for the first time of her heavy breathing, of her soaked clothes and desperately fast beating heart. Her head still pounded, and she could feel how unsteady her hands were.
When she looked over at the entangled men again she could see Franklin was baring his teeth at Rochester and still attempting to win an already lost fight. And then there were more people, two more men on horses had arrived and were quickly engaged in the fight too.
"Rochester, stop" Eshton called, pulling his friend off of the attacker.
Captain Franklin stood over the pair in astonishment. Eshton and Rochester pinned Franklin down so that he could have his hands tied behind his back with rope Eshton had brought. The Captain bent down to tie the knot, looking at his brother with disgust and resentment. When Rochester saw that he was in no danger of escaping he turned on his wife. Immediately all anger vanished from his face. Her torn dress, her ripped hair, the sight of her clutching her throbbing head was all too much. He moved to her, his soft and gentle hand cupping her face.
"Jane, I- I do not have the words- I am so angry right now I could-" his voice shook with emotion. "I will finish him".
But Jane found she had no emotion left with which to respond. She could not even bare to look him in the eye. She gripped his arm wordlessly, fighting back tears that threatened to overtake her eyes. He watched her, a look of mingled uncertainty and sadness in his eyes. Taking Jane's hand, he walked to his horse and from a pouch pulled several dry blankets and a cloak to wrap around her. Such things were pointless now as she was soaked to the skin, but still the feeling of him pulling such blankets around her was the smallest comfort.
"I need to get Jane back, she needs to be somewhere warm and dry, if she has not already caught cold".
"We shall take care of this Rochester" Eshton said, referring to the now still man who was bound into stillness.
"I will take care of it" Captain Franklin said, shame and disgust ringing in his tone. "He is my problem, after all".
The look on Rochester's face had turned fierce again, but his touch was incredibly gentle. He helped Jane onto the horse, covered completely in warm blankets so she did not feel the rains effects. He then mounted behind, placing his arms around her and quickly setting off towards the house without another look.
Jane did not remember if they spoke on the way back to the house, but she thought not. She did not remember the exact words of shock and surprised that were uttered when she returned to the house, but she did remember the faces of Diana, Mary and Anne, all of who looked solemn and nervous. Edward waved away the attention of the servants, assuring them that he would see to Jane, and they were not to be disturbed until he said.
. . . . . . . . . .
In the safety of their room, when Edward had left her for an instant to find some dry clothes, Jane allowed her welling eyes to finally spill over with tears. She had been violated, attacked. It had happened so suddenly, and with such force. She had tried and failed to protect herself. Help had come to her, and she was forced to face the reality that if help had not come the outcome would have been far worse. Her baby would be fine, and she did not yet feel feverish from being out in the rain, and yet she felt sick to her stomach and was more aware than ever of the pounding in her head.
Edward had returned to her, and seemed to see her up fully for the first time. The hand that touched her face was feather light and warm. He traced her forehead, down her cheek, and ran his thumb over her bleeding lip. He did not seem to want to dry her tears, and she did not care if it pained him to see them or not. His hand found her tangled hair which had been pulled in frenzy. He then saw the front of her dress, and she dropped the arm which held the middle, torn part in place. Jane saw his eyes scan her, and she quickly turned away.
"Jane, did he-"
"No"
Edward ran his hands through his hair in distress,
"But he would have, that bastard would have. I swear to God when I see him again he will wish he had never been born"
Silent tears issued from Jane at his words. In seeing her he dropped his aggression and moved towards her again, taking her hands and kissing them gently.
"I am so sorry"
Jane shook her head, her eyes pleading with him to understand, to leave her for a little while. To let her be.
"I will be fine in a little while, I just need some time to think"
He looked at her, and with his usual mind-reading skills he closed his eyes, shaking her hands lightly.
"Let me stay, please. Let me stay with you. Let me help"
"Edward you can't"
Jane startled herself with the own frailty of her voice. It was hardly recognisable. She wanted to tell him what she was feeling, or rather she wanted to know what she was feeling. She wanted him to stay, to hold her, to make her feel alright again as he had done so many times before. But she also did not want to look at him, did not want to answer to anyone, did not want to be looked at herself. She wanted to dissolve.
"Yes I can" said her husbands soft, low voice. This voice he used in this moment was reserved for special moments- the most intimate moments that passed between them. And for the first time she looked him in the face, the privacy of his voice convincing her to do so.
Jane turned her back to him, undoing what was left of the bun and pulling her hair to the side.
"Could you please help me with my dress?"
As the dress was loosened and fell to the floor Edward touched her shoulders.
"Here is a towel"
She stepped out of her slip so she could fully dry her body. Again, Edward watched. Not with anger this time, but with an odder expression. Love? Guilt? Failure? All of those feelings?
As she dried her chest she saw that there were scratch marks above one of her breasts, no doubt made when her dress was torn. She quickly moved past drying this area and took the nightdress at the end of her husbands outstretched hand. After she was dressed, Jane moved into her bed. It was not late, and she could not justify going to sleep, but she did not want to look at anyone right now, she was not hungry, and she did not want to talk. She only wanted to lay down. Edward walked over to her after having picked up her wet clothes and brought them into the washroom. He moved the blankets up around her and smoothed her hair.
He was gone for a few minutes, surely changing out of his own wet clothes. When he returned, he brought a chair up beside the bed to sit on. Jane knew he did this as not to crowd her, and to give her her own space. But when he went to sit she stopped him, and he looked at her, searchingly.
"Lay with me" she said, "I do not want you to catch cold either"
"That is alright, I shall be perfectly well here"
"No, it is what I want"
He abandoned his chair and climbed instantly into bed with his wife. She turned to face him and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him in a tight hug. She would have been contented to stay there for hours.