Hello all!
I must say, I think this is one of my favourite chapters of this story. I am always really interested in showing the ways that Jane and Rochester's relationship is different from others around them- not only that, but also how their relationship and love has matured over time. I think this chapter really shows both, and I am really happy with it.
Thank you for all the continued love, support and encouragement. I really do feel the support of everyone who reads week after week, and I absolutely love when you leave a comment telling me what you think. I appreciate every single message, even if I don't respond right away.
I hope you are all doing well, more soon,
xoxo
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
As the days before Christmas shortened, everyone within the Rochester home became increasingly more excited.
Adele arrived home a week after the rest of the party when her school had finished for the term. She greeted Jane and Mr Rochester with so much excitement that it almost moved Jane to tears. She was happy, contented, learning, and truly coming into her own. At thirteen, Adele was becoming a young lady and it was becoming more and more difficult to see her as a child. At the house she spent much time with Jane and the babies, but also with Jenny who she took a great liking to. She was so happy, and so well behaved that Jane allowed her the treat of having her hair done by Jenny some mornings- a privilege she had to abandon after going to school without a maid. When not with Jane, her favourite place to be was with Mr Rochester though, in his study talking, reading, or just conversing with him as he moved about the house. She never grew tired of his company or his stories, and she had a constant outlet for her never-ending curiosity. The girls too were happy to have Adele in their company. Anne and Adele had perhaps the most in common, enjoying the comforts of having their hair done or appreciating the femininity of the perfect dress, but Adele took to Diana and Mary's kindness and simplicity.
One particular morning a few days before Christmas, Jane found herself alone in the house. It was strange given that the house currently had ten people staying in it, but when everyone had departed in the morning she did not feel quite up to joining any of them. She had had another sleepless night with a headache and thought it would be best just to remain home for a few hours, so she played in the nursery with Henry until he needed to be fed and put down for his nap and then went down to the sitting room to be by herself for a while.
She was quite contented sitting quietly by herself for a little while. Her husband had given her a book, a sort of adventure book of pirates and treasure he said he read as a boy. It made her smile to imagine him young, escaping in a book in the way she had so often in her youth. Like he had claimed, the book was not exceptional in its style or form, but he thought it was something people should read at least once in their lifetime. Simplistic as the language was, indeed because it was intended for children, she read through it quickly as the morning wore on. Suddenly though, she looked up casually to find some activity outside of the window. She thought she saw someone dismount their horse but she did not catch their face. She closed her book and turned towards the door as she heard footsteps approaching. John stepped inside, bowing to Jane as he did so.
"Father Andrew is here to see you, miss. Shall I send him in?"
"Oh- yes. Thank you John" Jane said, feeling confused. He nodded and stepped away from the door only to reappear moments later with the familiar man at his side. Father Andrew moved into the room with confidence as the door was closed behind him and bowed to Jane upon reaching her.
"Ms Rochester. Forgive me, I come rather unannounced".
"There is no need for forgiveness" she said, with slight uncertainty "I am here alone this morning, however. I am afraid my husband cannot join us"
"Is he out?" Father Andrew asked, a little regret in his voice.
"Yes, he is in town with Mr Eshton and Captain Franklin"
"Ah" Father said, "Yes, I heard they were visiting you for the holidays. How nice. And I assume that Ms Franklin and Ms Rivers are here too?"
"Yes, and Ms Rivers son Daniel".
"But of course" he said, his eyes bent on the carpet. Silence passed between them for a moment before she sway on the spot slightly.
"Will you sit, Father?"
"Oh- yes, thank you" he said, sitting down and patting his knees anxiously.
More silence passed between them, but Jane was not in a hurry to break it. She was curious why Father Andrew was there, and did not wish to prompt him say something he had not come to say. Eventually he sighed in resignation and looked up at her.
"Forgive me. I respect you far too much, Ms Rochester, to not be forward with you. You must look upon me so poorly. You must see me as so cruel for cutting off our correspondence so abruptly. But I fear it was necessary for me to reflect, and to decide what type of man I want to be, and what type of integrity I wish to act on. I am here to propose marriage to Mary Rivers, for I wish to spend the rest of my days with her. I had wished your husband would be here so we could settle affairs today".
Jane stared at him in shock, not able to produce a single word in reply. Instead, she closed her mouth and simply looked at him thoughtfully.
"You are here to propose marriage?"
"Yes"
"Why?"
"Because, I love Mary and wish to give my life away in favour of creating a life with her".
A pause.
"You love her?"
"Yes, I do"
Jane sighed once, looking to her company with confusion.
"I do not understand your notion of love, Father. You left her without so much as a word. You hurt her, you led her on, gave her false hopes of a relationship with you and then you disappeared, not just from her life but from all of our lives".
"Yes, well as I said I needed to do some thinking before I could act. It was not an easy choice for me Ms Rochester but I did what was best in the end".
"Perhaps for you, but you broke Mary's heart in the process of doing what you thought best for yourself"
"That was not my intent. I tell you again, choosing to marry Mary is a big life change that required much contemplation and much prayer. It could not have been an instantaneous decision for me, not given the circumstances. I had other offers, perhaps you are aware. A miss Eliza Spencer of London has been an ideal and premeditated match for me since birth, so I did have to consider Mary in comparison to her. There are complexities with Mary's situation which gave me some pause-"
"Complexities?"
"Yes. Please, Ms Rochester, do not make me explain such which I know must be obvious to you".
"I can imagine what you may refer to, though in my mind it is not obvious that her having a child as the result of abuse inflicted upon her is a complexity. To me it is a tragedy".
"The complexity is what comes in her marrying me- a priest! I am not naive, Ms Rochester. I know babies are born each day into unchristian households to unchristian parents, yet I hold a certain moral standard within the community. By marrying Mary, a single woman with a child, I would certainly turn heads and be the subject of much conversation, and rightfully so. I simply had to be sure that such would be worth it for me, and in the end I decided it would be".
"So what was it, in the end, which made you decide such burdens would be worth marrying her?"
"As I said, I love her"
"That is not love" Jane said finitely. Perhaps in a more controlled moment she would not have been so blunt, but her anger rose and bluntness was better than something which would make her a mockery. "Love does not have conditions, Father. Love is compassionate and kind, not critical and judgemental. Love does not hide in the shadow of fear. If you had to consider if marrying Mary was worth the scrutiny then you do not love her enough".
"Ms Rochester" Father Andrew said in surprise, "I find myself unable to reason why you address me now in such a forward and unfeeling way".
"I do not mean to cause you offence, Father, but I am sitting here listening to a deceleration of love which sounds more like a reckoning of responsibility rather than genuine affection".
"But there is genuine affection" he said quickly, "You saw us on our walks. You saw me chaperone her into town. You saw me walk her home from church. None of those things were a lie".
"Mary has made a new life for herself now. She had her son, she has been doing well, happy in her new role as a mother. She has done all of this independent of a husband".
"That does not mean she does not want a husband"
"No, it does not. But it does mean that if you return, professing love for her that she thought lost, it will not mean you have saved her from anything"
"All I wish to save her from is a life of damnation- the thing all of us should fear in the end. I feel that God placed me on earth- in this very place to be near her, and to provide a father to her little boy".
"God placed you on this earth to do what we are all meant to do- live good and meaningful lives. Diana can reach this end without your marriage, and you can achieve such without her".
Speechless, he looked at her curiously.
"You are indeed full of contradictions, Ms Rochester. You say you love your cousin yet you do not want what is best for her. You say you love your husband but you do not believe in marriage for others. You tell me I do not know God's purpose in placing me on earth yet you claim to know his aims".
"Father Andrew, I do not claim to know God's thoughts, but I do know my own. I believe in marriage because I have lived as a married woman. So, as such you must believe me when I tell you that if a marriage is not strong, if it does not bend with the currents of time or the difficulties of life, it cannot last. If you have had so much doubt of what others would say of your union before you marry I am sure that such doubts will infect every moment of married life. So, take this advice from me. Think over your decision before you offer it to Mary. Think truly about the life ahead of you now and the life that would be before you if you wed her. Make your choice out of genuine care, not fleeting passion. Love rooted in respect means you will make the right decision for you both and not regret it in years to come, even if that means walking away from her".
He stood, his hands on his lips. He looked positively outraged.
"You know, I believed when I stepped through this door that you would be happy to see me again, that we would rekindle the old friendship which I believe meant something to us both. I thought you would rejoice that a good man- any man, would be interested in marrying Mary. I thought you would be happy with the union, and offer us your support. Instead I have been meet with cold scepticism and unfeeling judgement".
"Father, I believe you have said quite enough" Jane said, angry and hurt that he could suggest Mary was no longer good enough for any man. "You may have wanted to believe you walking through that door would rekindle our once friendship, but I do not wish to be friends with a man who has acted the way you have done".
"No, I suppose not" he said, standing and clutching his hat, "You have made such abundantly clear. But I would like to come by and propose marriage to Mary, regardless of what you think. If I am not welcomed in this house then I should call a private appointment with her in town".
"While she is a guest here she may entertain anyone she wishes".
He nodded, pulled on his gloves and excused himself from the room. Within seconds the sound of a horse moving down the lane faded out of earshot and a deafening silence filled the room.
. . .
Her conversation with Father Andrew had shaken Jane to her core. She had been straight forward with him, but he had deserved the honesty of what she had said and she had not been unkind to him. Still, at one time he had been a friend, and to wound him in any capacity was difficult to process. But he had suggested that Mary was unlovable because of the way she was taken advantage of and Jane could not sit and allow such to be said. His arrogance, his lack of thought for others, and his feeling of superiority made him a stranger in the eyes of Jane who did not know him to be such when he arrived at their front door. People truly did change, and Jane had to accept the fact that Father Andrew had too. Now, she only worried that Mary would not see this truth so clearly.
Jane lay on her bed with Henry all that afternoon. Her headache had gotten worse, and the thoughts buzzed around her head so quickly that she could not settle herself. If it were not for her son she would have been completely consumed by her thoughts, but his brightness and his innocence anchored her in feelings of calm. When her mind started to drift to frightening thoughts of Mary accepting his proposal, Henry kicked furiously or grabbed her finger to pull her back to the present.
Jane heard footsteps out in the hallway and assumed the girls had arrived home and secretly wished they would not go looking for her in that moment. But, to her surprise, the bedroom door opened and Edward stepped inside.
"I was hoping to see you feeling better, not worse" he said walking towards her and sitting of the bed- but upon seeing her face he stopped,
"You look as if you are on the verge of tears"
"I think I must be"
What happened?"
Jane pushed herself into a seated position, aided by her husband.
"Father Andrew came here today in order to propose marriage to Mary"
"What?" Edward said in surprise, "He said as much to you?"
"Yes, very clearly. He did not receive the support from me he expected to though, and the conversation turned somewhat abrasive after that. He accused me of many things, but I could not-
"What things?"
"Claiming to know God's thoughts, of being a hypocrite- of saying I wished for Mary's happiness but not supporting what would give her ultimate happiness"
"Did he?" Edward asked furiously
"The worst of it was what he implied, not what he directly said. He told me I should have been grateful that any man was willing to marry her, let alone a good one. I could not stand the implication that Mary was some kind of dirty creature, not deserving of human affection because of what was done to her"
"That filthy bastard" Edward spat angrily, "Saying such things to you in your own home, about an abused woman he supposedly loves?"
"It was very hard to listen to. It was very hard for me to keep any semblance of composure. Even now I find it difficult to imagine what transpired. He was so changed- no kindness or ease in his manner, none of the qualities which made us sympathetic to him when we first met. He was all arrogance"
"Jane, I do not know what to say. Except that he can rot in-"
"No, don't" she said, taking his arm, "Do not let him make you cruel with his own shortcomings".
She paused, closing her eyes and furrowing her brow slightly in thought.
"I just had such high hopes for him, Edward. I thought that he loved her, and that his love would be enough for them to marry in spite of what others may have said about it. I thought him young, fresh to the world, and capable of bringing some measure of comfort to Mary after all she suffered. I was so foolish to imagine all would work out so perfectly".
"We all had high hopes for him, my love. You could not have known. You only hoped for the best because such is the default of your good and kind nature".
Although his words were gentle with Jane she could tell he was seething with anger. He pushed himself off the bed and moved before his wife, pacing slightly.
"I just cannot believe he stepped foot into this house so comfortably after ignoring us for months on end and uttered any syllable against you. We showed him kindness and hospitality when he was new here and had no one. He ate here, took books from here, spent time here. I do not take kindly to people to take advantage of people's kindness only to throw it away at the first opportunity. He will never step foot in this house again".
"He said he wanted to come back and propose-"
"He will not be proposing in this house" Edward said firmly, and Jane instantly understood she would not be able to persuade him from such a decision, even if she wanted to. He was right- Father Andrew did not deserve to be in their house with so many opportunities missed to be a better man.
Jane stood up with a sleepy Henry in her arms, moving past her husband as she reached the window. She put her hand to the glass, wiping the condensation away so that momentarily she could look out into the frosty landscape. She pressed her forehead to the cold pane and closed her eyes before feeling a hand at her back.
"Jane, my darling, all will be well. I promise you that"
"Edward, what if he says yes? No one can stop him from proposing and no one can stop her from giving whatever answer she will"
"She will not. Speak with her when she returns home. Tell her what he told you so that she knows everything before she makes her choice. Knowing she will never be left alone so long as she is alive, she will not make a bad decision"
Jane nodded, laying her head on her husbands chest. He kissed the top of her head, rubbing her back soothingly.
. . .
Jane fell asleep quickly that night but Edward did not. He was happy his wife drifted into sleep easily, and when he was sure she would not miss the comfort of his arms he drew back from her gently and sat up in bed thinking. Though Edward was not entirely surprised at Father Andrews' arrogance in returning with a proposal, his wife had been- and the way she had suffered for the rest of the day as a result profoundly affected him, solidifying his anger towards Father Andrew.
Jane had not found the opportunity to speak with Mary when she returned for she was with Diana constantly and she did not wish to upset anyone by calling Mary for a private meeting. So, she had resigned herself to speaking with her the following morning. Edward knew Jane had tried to shelter him from the feelings which made her so quiet and reflectful, but when he had sat with her quietly before bed, her curled up into him as he read, he knew that she understood she did not need to say anything for him to understand.
So much time passed that Edward had something else to blame Father Andrew for something- denying him sleep. His mind was wracked with angry thoughts to the point that he could not even think of closing his eyes. As a man who loved his wife with more of himself than he ever thought possible, it was an insult to the sacrament of marriage for Father Andrew to say he loved Mary. Did he not know what love took? What true, honest love required? Love is sacrifice, and honesty, and vulnerability. It is incapable of being selfish. It is incapable of being self interested. Most of all, love crafted only on the basis of what others would think could not exist behind closed doors. Love that was fabricated to be the answer to some false divine call of salvation would crumple and break at the first moment of difficulty.
Edward turned to look upon his wife sleeping beside him who was an endless, consistent contrast to the false love of which Father Andrew knew.
She was sleeping facing away from him, one hand under her head and the other resting on the bed beside her. She was breathing slow and easy, and the sight of her halted the spinning thoughts in his head. She, who was the centre of everything for him, who was the grounding force of his life, comforted him without words. As he watched her she stirred, turned onto her back, and felt subconsciously for her husband. He took her hand in his and smiled as she fell back asleep, completely unaware of anything that had just transpired. As she lay there beside him he sighed heavily, his mind slowing to the thoughts of how he used to sit awake at night beside his sleeping bride. His mind dissolved happily into the memory of one of their first nights together, Jane laying naked under him, opening herself up to him with incredible vulnerability.
. . .
"Edward, I cannot"
She had been recovering from a strong climax when he mounted himself before her. She pressed her hand to his chest.
"It is too much"
"This is what you are meant to feel. Women can climax many times, and I do intend to find your limit".
"Mmm, not like this- it cannot feel like this. I cannot take it"
"I promise that you can. Let me help you"
"Okay"
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes".
He hoisted her up on top of him so that she was straddling him. Jane put her hands on his chest to steady herself in her new position. He gave her a few moments to try and arrange herself but when she moaned in frustration he reached his hands down to her bum to lift her into position so that she could slide him into herself. She sighed happily when he filled her entirely.
"Does that feel alright?"
"Mhm" she said breathlessly
And with that he moved, slowly and deliberately to encourage her. He heard her trying to hold her breath, the air stilled with her deep focus before she rocked against him, instinctively pushing him deeper inside of her.
She moaned deeply- one long, agonising moan of desire, but he would not oblige her yet. Just a little bit more before a sensation she had never felt. She dragged her nails along his chest.
"Hm- hh- hh" she exhaled with each thrust,
When Jane's leg began to shake she became so overcome that she she felt desperately for her husbands hands which were stilling her hips. He held her to him securely before pushing himself into a seated position on the edge of the bed, leaving her legs dangling on either side of him. He was inside of her more deeply now and Jane immediately responded to this.
"Breathe with me, love" he had encouraged softly.
He rocked once against her sensitive flesh, and then again. He continued a painfully slow place until he could sense her building need for more. She ached to be closer to him- she clung to him tightly, needing something to feel real in an overwhelming haze of sensation.
"Please" Jane spoke against his chest, "please"
"Tell me what you need, darling"
He felt her open her mouth against his skin but she stopped, exhaling sharply. He kissed her burning cheek to show his encouragement as a particularly strong feeling shot through his core. He grunted, regaining his sense of space and time.
"Jane" he said again, trying to sober her senses for a second, "Tell me"
He wanted her to feel comfortable enough to tell him from the start of their marriage what she wanted so that a feeling of inequality never passed between them.
Jane reached for his hand and moved it to where they were joined, and when he placed his thumb on her centre of please she cried out, breathing heaving, staggering, breaths.
"There you go" he said lowly into her neck, smiling briefly as he kissing her possessively and pushed deeply inside of her.
. . .
He had been woken to the feeling of a soft hand running down his side. It was an exploratory, curious hand. It was not intentional, yet her touch was very effective in arousing him. Jane smoothed the lines of his shoulder and chest with her hand, her pointed finger running along his collarbone lazily. He stirred in the blankets and opened his eyes, and though he could not see her knew his wife had only just woken for her voice was heavy with sleep.
"You are awake"
"You woke me"
"I'm sorry"
But he shook his head,
"Jane, my love. We are going to be married for a long time and we are going to share many things together- things that you cannot begin to fathom right now. You must not apologise for wanting me, or needing anything from me, ever".
Jane leaned down and kissed his forehead sweetly before running her fingers through his hair. He leaned into her touch, groaning lightly as her fingers pressed into his scalp. She ran her hands down along his forehead, her fingers tracing his scars with ease and comfort.
"It is just that- you have been so selfless with me these past few days. All your attention has been for me, and my own pleasure".
"Have I left any doubt in your mind that I have not been enjoying myself" he asked mischievously
"No" Jane said assuredly "But, I want what you want. I want to give you what you have given to me".
Edward pushed himself up in bed so his back was resting against the headboard.
"I want you, that is all".
"No, I want you to tell me" Jane entreated, "You told me that I need to ask you for what you want. I want you to be able to do the same with me".
He felt for her and drew her to him so that he could kiss her deeply. Jane wrapped her arms around his neck and broke the kiss to run her own kisses down his neck, down his chest, stomach and finally-
"Jane" he said in surprise, "You do not need to do that, sweetheart"
"I want to" she said, and such was enough to make him still completely with desire, "It is what you did to me"
"Yes, but that is different"
"I do not see it as such. I want to love you in the same way you love me".
He laid back easily with his hands above his head. To resist her would have been mad, and to deny himself in that moment seemed impossible.
"Then I am all yours"
Jane moved her mouth back to him and he inhaled sharply, his heart beating in his throat. Her inexperienced hands and mouth made his heart ache with love for her. Still, it was taking every fibre of strength within his body not to lose himself to her instantly and completely. After a few long pulls with her mouth she paused, causing him to groan in dissatisfaction.
"Can you help me?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine desire.
Edward smiled, a singular laugh breaking from his lips.
"You do not need any help, love".
"Really?"
"No. You have left me senseless as it is"
He was sure she blushed furiously at his words, and he desired to see such a flush more than he had in the whole of his life.
Her mouth closed around him again as her hands fumbled awkwardly around him. He groaned deeply, his arousal painful in its intensity. As she worked, he reached down to take a bunch of her hair in his hand, his breathing sharp and irregular.
"Here" he said, moving her hands into a different position, "Like that darling"
She moved her hands in the new position, an uncontrollable grunt coming from him as she moved her hands with more intention. As her confidence rose so did his heart rate, and he could not control himself from calling her name as he felt the release of himself surge through his whole body.
Still trying to normalise his breathing, he pulled his wife up to him and kissed her into the pillows, smoothing her hair affectionately as she relaxed into the bed.
"Thank you" he said, kissing her forehead and holding her close.
. . .
They were in the bathtub together, their skin clammy and sweaty from an afternoon of lovemaking. The water was no longer warm but he did not care- for as Jane lay in his arms, breathing in a deep and relaxing rhythm, he had felt more at ease than he perhaps had in the whole of his life. The sound of the water lapping around them was the only sound in the room. He held his wife to him closely as she laid her head back against him, her arms resting on the ones which surrounded her.
"Are your eyes closed?"
"Mhm. I am tired".
"I know" he replied, kissing her shoulder, "I know you are"
He felt the smile move across her face as she sighed.
"We should wash. The water has turned cold. We have been in here too long".
"Here" he said, helping her up and then kneeling back down before her. He felt for the bar of soap beside the tub and dipped it in the water before running it along his wife's legs. He felt her hand grip his shoulder as he moved to soap along her back, lathering the trail of soap as he went. Jane sighed happily when he moved the soap over her core, a slight shudder moving through her as his hand followed the soap. He had not intended such a response, but her hand tightened on his shoulder as he ran water over her centre. When he saw such desire in his wife he washed her sensually, touching and rubbing and kissing as he went. When he lowered the washcloth from her he felt her hips involuntarily buck into his hand, trying to bring his touch back to her. He cupped her so that she swayed slightly on the spot before he slid a finger along her wet length, causing her to moan.
"Jane Rochester" he said, smiling to himself in amazement.
"I do not know what you have done to me" she said softly, "I want you".
He kissed her stomach.
"Which part of me?"
Jane traced her thumb across his lips.
"Where?" he said enticingly, but before she could answer he was kissing her throbbing, sensitive core. She shuddered against him, whimpering quietly as her knees began to give way.
"No, you mustn't. You make my knees weak when I am not standing in a bathtub filled with water".
"You cannot say such things to me, Jane" he warned, drawing back from her as arousal turned in his stomach, "But I can assure you that I would not let you fall"
He tried to kiss the inside of her thigh only to have her guide his mouth back up to her centre. Edward smiled and closed his mouth around her, eliciting deep moans from his wife.
. . .
Edward was brought back to his surroundings by the sound of his sons cries ringing through the air. Jane began to stir beside him but he pushed her back against the bed gently,
"I'm already awake darling, go back to sleep".
She nodded lazily and pulled the blankets back up around herself as she reached back for him.
"Thank you"
He kissed her briefly before standing and making his way over to Henry's nursery door. Henry's little hands wrapped around the bars of the crib as he saw his father, his face red and wet with tears.
"Come here" Edward said, lifting him into his arms, "Come here".
He rocked his son in his arms, patting him on the back reassuringly as he stifled his tears. When he had stopped crying Edward lay down on the couch, his son resting on top of him, and closed his eyes.