Bedlam: The Further Secret Adventures of Charlotte Brontë (49 page)

I found him at the dinner table with Mr. Nicholls. I was dismayed to see Mr. Nicholls, for I had wanted a quiet homecoming and no guests to complicate matters. At least Ellen wasn't there, as I'd feared she would be. My father and his curate rose to greet me with exclamations of surprise and relief.

“Charlotte, where have you been?” Papa asked. “I was so worried about you.”

“So was I,” Mr. Nicholls seemed truly concerned about my welfare, not angry that I'd rudely left him in the Lake District. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” I was glad that Papa had apparently put aside his anger at Mr. Nicholls and they were united in their concern for me. But their solicitude dissolved my frail composure. Exhausted, I dropped into a chair, gave in to despair, and wept anew.

“What happened?” Papa asked as he and Mr. Nicholls hovered awkwardly near me.

“I can't tell you.” I couldn't break my silence and risk the Queen's displeasure.

“I see.” Papa's expression said he was envisioning a scenario as disastrous as the one in which we'd found ourselves three years ago. He summoned Martha Brown, who brought me tea, and waited until I had regained my self-control. Then he said, “Can you at least say whether matters have been resolved?”

I assured him that they had.

“What has become of John Slade?” Papa asked.

Mr. Nicholls frowned at the unfamiliar name. “Who is John Slade?”

Now was the time to announce that Slade and I were married, but I could not. Papa didn't want me to marry at all, and he would be furious because I hadn't notified him first or sought his permission, even though he liked and admired Slade. He would also be horrified by my makeshift nuptials, especially since Slade and I couldn't legitimize them with a proper wedding in church. Mr. Nicholls would surely heap his disapproval on top of Papa's, which was more than I could face. Furthermore, they would think ill of Slade for leaving me, and worse of me for entering into such a reckless union. They wouldn't understand the circumstances or believe that love should outweigh propriety.

“Mr. Slade is just a friend,” I said, even though I hated to lie and deny my husband. “He's gone abroad for the foreseeable future.”

Papa received this news with relief. “It's for the best, Charlotte. I like the fellow, but he brings trouble whenever he comes around.”

Mr. Nicholls observed me closely, his heavy brow furrowing. I colored because I sensed that he had deduced something of my feelings for Slade. I feared a scene that would reveal my secrets. But all Mr. Nicholls said was, “If you ever need a friend, I'm here.” And I was comforted, even though he wasn't Slade.

13 June 1852. I finish my tale on my first anniversary. When Slade and I wed on board the
Gipsy
, we didn't realize that it was Friday the thirteenth. Those were such tumultuous times that I had lost track of the calendar and failed to notice that we'd chosen a most inauspicious day. Now a year has passed, and I still have not told anyone that Slade and I are married. Without Slade by my side, I cannot bear to face the questions, the censure, and the scandal that would surely arise if I did tell. Furthermore, there were no physical consequences of our marriage that would have necessitated making it public. I keep it as close a secret as the events involving Niall Kavanagh and Wilhelm Stieber.

In the meantime, I go about my business. Although plagued by low spirits, ill health, and loneliness, I have enjoyed visits with Ellen Nussey and other friends. I have made a pilgrimage to Anne's grave in Scarborough. Papa had a stroke, which paralyzed him for a few days, but he has recovered. I correspond with Mr. Thackeray and George Smith, who have generously forgiven me for that night at the Crystal Palace. Indeed, George and I have resumed our friendly flirtation through the mail. On paper we can be as we were, if not in person. I am presently working on a new novel, entitled
Villette
. Arthur Nicholls has been a constant, sympathetic presence in my life.

I have not heard from Slade. I do not know where he is. I do not know whether he is alive or dead, whether I am his wife or his widow. When Slade returns, we shall announce our marriage. If he does not . . .

That is a possibility too awful to contemplate. I will not heed superstition and believe that because we wed on an unlucky day, our marriage is doomed. I have more faith in Slade than to think his enemies will defeat him or that he will forsake me. He
will
return. Of that I am certain.

B
EDLAM: THE FURTHER SECRET ADVENTURES OF CHARLOTTE BRONTË
is a novel in which I have combined fiction with actual historical characters and events. Charlotte Brontë was the real-life author of
Jane Eyre
. In 1851, she was a literary celebrity, much sought after, the subject of speculation and gossip. She enjoyed friendships with other literary figures, including George Smith (her publisher), and William Makepeace Thackeray, who appear in this book. She and Mr. Smith had a close personal relationship, and they carried on a flirtation through the mail, as evidenced by her letters to him. Mr. Thackeray really did introduce Charlotte as “Jane Eyre” at his lecture. He did have an insane wife, and the fact that Charlotte dedicated the second edition of her book to him fueled the rumor that she had been a governess in his house, had an affair with him, and based the heroine and hero of
Jane Eyre
on herself and Mr. Thackeray. (That rumor wasn't true.)

The Reverend Bronte, Ellen Nussey, Arthur Nicholls, Lord Palmerston, Queen Victoria, Prince Albert, the royal children, Tsar Nicholas, and Prince Orlov were also real people. So was George Smith's friend, Dr. John Forbes, whom Charlotte did consult about her sister Anne. Wilhelm Stieber was in fact a super-spy of his time. He had a remarkable career, which he described in his memoir,
The Chancellor's Spy
, and according to him, he really did travel to London in 1851 to roust Karl Marx. He died in 1882. Oliver Heald is a fictional character inspired by Charlotte Brontë's actual fans, who did sometimes show up at her house uninvited. Katerina the Great is based on the actress Rachel, whose stunning performance Charlotte saw at the French Theatre. Niall Kavanagh is a composite of various scientific geniuses with character flaws (see
The Scientists
by John Gribbin), plus a big dash of Branwell Brontë and Dr. Frankenstein.

Real historical settings are featured in this book. They include Newgate Prison and Bethlem Royal Hospital, popularly known as Bedlam. Charlotte actually visited both institutions, although it happened in 1853 and not 1851, and she wasn't an inmate in either place. She also attended the Great Exhibition. Bethlem Royal Hospital still exists today, in modernized form. Osborne, Queen Victoria's retreat, still graces the Isle of Wight. The London district of Whitechapel is the same place where Jack the Ripper began his reign of terror in 1888. During Victorian times, Whitechapel was so rife with violent crime that some Jack the Ripper experts disagree on how many of the women murdered were Jack's victims and how many were killed by other people. A serial killer in Whitechapel in 1851 was entirely possible.

The scenes in Russia take place in real historical settings (Butyrka Prison, the Kremlin, and areas of Moscow). I have portrayed Russia's atmosphere, people, and social conditions as accurately I could within the bounds of my story. The Third Section was the Russian secret police organization. In the nineteenth century, Russia did have a political rivalry with England, which led to the Crimean War in 1853.

Victorian science is one of my favorite elements in the book. Galvanism, mesmerism, and the treatments administered to the patients in Bedlam were all methods in use during the period. Phrenology was indeed the rage, and Charlotte and George Smith did pay a visit to Dr. Browne the phrenologist. (Those are the actual results of Dr. Browne's analysis.) The airship is based on the first engine-powered airship, built by Henri Giffard, which he flew in 1852. Woolsorter's disease is now known as anthrax. The germ theory of disease—the idea that infectious illnesses are caused by microorganisms—was developed in 1862, by Louis Pasteur. In 1851, the general public and most scientists would have scorned the theory. But the existence of microorganisms had been discovered (during the seventeenth century), and multiple scientists can have the same idea; the credit generally goes to the one who publishes first. I believe it's possible that the cause of anthrax and other diseases could have been discovered earlier. And although germ warfare is a twentieth century invention, the means to build a simple biological weapon existed at the time that
Bedlam
takes place.

I must emphasize that
Bedlam
is fiction. Reality and imagination are intertwined in it. Characters and plot have roots in fact, but the major events in the story never happened.