Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy (7 page)

BOOK: Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy
4.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“God, you can be so naïve when you want
to be. Don’t you care what happens to Jane and Michael?”

“Michael has money and he’s resourceful.
They’ll find a way out.”

“John and the archbishop are having them
hunted down as criminals. I’d say their chances of keeping safe are slim.”

“Harry, what else can we do to help them?”

“You could convince John to withdraw the
accusations and let Jane and Michael marry and come back to Eyre Hall.”

“I could try.”

“I was being sarcastic. You’re
delusional. He’ll never agree. If he has his own way, Jane will be back at the
Retreat and Michael in jail, and he’ll be the king of the castle.”

“I’ll try anyway.”

“No doubt you could use your charm and
find a way of convincing him.”

“That remark is uncalled for and unfair.”

“You think so?”

“John’s their only hope, Harry.”

“Then they’re doomed.”

We continued our journey in silence for
a long time, then Harry asked me, “What was that about Bertha Mason being your
mother? I thought your father was Richard and Bertha’s brother. So they were
your uncle and aunt, weren’t they?”

“It’s a long and sad story, Harry.”

“So, is John your cousin?”

“Can I tell you about it another time?”

“Or is he your brother?”

“I don’t know, Harry.”

“If Bertha was your mother, who is your
father, Annette?”

“I’m already very upset, and I don’t
want any more drama today, please.”

“You don’t know, do you?”

I was silent and he cursed under his
breath. “When were you going to tell me about it?”

“Well, it’s not something I’m very proud
of. My mother was a lunatic, and no one knows who my father was. It’s not going
to make me very popular, is it?”

“I don’t care who your parents are,
Annette. I love you, whatever your surname is, or whoever your parents were.
You forget that I don’t know who mine were either. I understand you better than
anyone else.”

Of course Harry understood. He had been
abandoned by his mother at birth, and adopted by Dr. Carter, a childless
village doctor, and his wife.

“I’m sorry, Harry, but I’m not sure you
or anybody could understand. For the first twenty-two years of my life, I
thought my parents had died in an accident, when I was a baby, and that Richard
was my uncle and only relative. Two years ago, I discovered my mother was Bertha
Mason, my uncle’s mad sister. He told me that I had been born in an attic in
Thornfield Hall in England. Bertha’s husband, Mr. Rochester, denied being my
father. Nobody knows who my father is, although Mrs. Leah remembers how Mr.
Rochester’s friends used to ‘poke’ the lunatic, when they were bored. So, it
could have been any of them, or none of them. How do you think that makes me
feel?”

“It all goes back to that damned Edward
Rochester, doesn’t it? His lies and wrongdoings live on to this day, through
his son.”

“Don’t accuse John. He wasn’t there when
his father abused my mother. He’s not responsible.”

“His slate was clean twenty-two years
ago, but I’d say he’s done a pretty good job of filling it up with plenty of
his own sins.”

“I’m so overwhelmed, Harry. I wish I
were back at the convent in Jamaica. I was a contented teacher, leading a
simple life, until my uncle brought me to England.”

“Is John the reason you won’t marry me?”

“I don’t know. I have more questions
than answers myself at the moment.”

We didn’t speak for the rest of the
journey. When we arrived at Eyre Hall it was after midnight, and I was
surprised to see the candles still burning in the drawing room. The archbishop
was usually in bed by ten in the evening. I had no idea there were more
surprises in store for me at Eyre Hall.

 

***

Chapter IX
– The
Age of Foolishness

Fred opened the door and told me that
John was waiting for me in the drawing room.

“John, you’re back, so soon?”

“Did you not wish to see me, sister?”

He threw his arms towards me in an
exaggerated manner. I approached him and let him embrace me. He stepped back
and grinned.

“You’re not pleased to see me?”

I noticed he had been drinking. I
thought it would be unwise to cross him.

“Of course I am, John. I’m very pleased
to see you. I really am.”

I hugged him again and he looked at me, raising
an eyebrow and narrowing his eyes. “Why is that?”

“Because you’re needed at Eyre Hall.”

He pushed me away brusquely. “Precisely
my thoughts. That’s exactly why the archbishop asked me to return.”

“When did he ask you to return?”

“I received his letter over a month ago.
I naturally returned home at once.”

I realised that the archbishop must have
been planning Jane’s confinement for some time.

“Tell me, Annette, where have you been?”

“At the hospital.”

“Don’t lie to me!” He gripped my arm. “Not
again.”

I decided to tell him the truth, hoping
I was doing the right thing. “I went to see Jane and Michael. They’re at Thorpe
Hall with Diana and Admiral Fitzwilliam.”

“With Dr. Carter?”

“Yes. Jane’s unwell. She needed his
help.”

“How did you know where she was?”

“The admiral sent for Dr. Carter, and I
accompanied him. We went to Morton this morning.”

He walked to the wine cabinet and poured
himself another brandy. “So, are you going to marry Dr. Carter?”

I thought he might ask about his mother.
I was surprised by his question. I hesitated before answering.

“Are you thinking of how to lie to me
about it?”

 “He has asked me, more than once, but I
have told him I need time.”

He washed down his drink and poured two
more. “Would you like to join me, Annette?”

I shivered as our fingers brushed when I
took the glass from his hands. He turned towards the fireplace, as if he had
lost interest in pursuing the conversation.

“Did you travel with Emily Jackson?” The
archbishop had told me John had been courting Mr. Jackson’s niece in Boston,
and would be bringing her to Eyre Hall with him.

“Yes, I did. She’s staying with her
uncle in Millcote.”

“Are you planning to marry Miss Jackson?”

“Perhaps.” He spoke into the fire and I
held my breath. “I haven’t proposed, if that’s what you’re asking.”

I hated myself for being relieved at his
answer.

“She has never been to England, so she
wanted to get to know the country first. I’m definitely not going back to
America now that I’m needed at Eyre Hall.”

“John.” I moved towards him. “You have
to stop this madness.”

He turned brusquely. “Madness? What are
you talking about, sister?”

I took a step closer. “I’m not your
sister, and you know it.”

“Do I now, Miss Annette Mason, daughter
of Bertha Mason, my father’s first wife?”

“Stop it!” I held his arm. “I won’t let
you change the subject. This isn’t about me, or you. It’s about your mother,
John. Your mother. The woman who gave birth to you and loves you. You don’t
know what they did to her at the asylum.”

He shook his arm loose with a sharp
movement and stepped away. “I warned my mother not to ridicule the Rochester
family by marrying her servant.”

“John, they are in love.” I moved
forward again and he moved backwards.

“That is not possible.”

I realised he was afraid of being close
to me, so I moved even closer. “They’ll do anything to stay together. You
haven’t seen them. Jane almost went out of her mind when Michael was kidnapped
in Jamaica.”

“Precisely. You said it, Annette. She
went out of her mind.”

“She’ll do anything to be his wife.”

 “I’m aware of that. It’s lust. Pure and
simple carnal lust, and it’s one of the seven deadly sins.”

“So is greed.” I was very close to him
now, and he was almost leaning against the wall by the fireplace.

“I have not coveted any possessions. I
only want what is mine.”

“It’s also your mother’s. She built Eyre
Hall, with her uncle’s inheritance.”

“That’s what she told you?” He laughed
and waved his hand dismissively. “She’s a liar. She never had any money. She
was a penniless governess when she married my father. She was a nobody. He gave
her everything, and I’m not watching her squander it on a servant.”

“It’s not about money, John. They only
want to be together.”  

“That’s why they’ll both have to be imprisoned,
in separate cells, for the rest of their lives.”

“What happened to you? You were never
like this before.”

“You all lied to me and I grew up.
That’s what happened.”

“We wanted to protect you.”

“I’m not a baby or an idiot to be
protected. You never took me seriously. I gave you my heart and you lied to me.”

“John, I loved you. I couldn’t bear to
tell you the truth, that we might be related.”

He moved away from the fireplace towards
me. “You loved me?”

“Of course I loved you. Why do you think
I haven’t married Dr. Carter yet? I thought we might still have a chance, if we
found out who my father was, and if you could forgive me for keeping the truth
from you.”

He took my hand and squeezed it. “I’m
almost certain my father wouldn’t have had a child with the madwoman in the
attic, but how can we ever find out?”

“Jane told me that she had some clues.”

He dropped my hand and stepped away. I
continued. “Leah told her something.”

He smirked. “What did Leah tell her?
Gossip? More lies?”

He moved forward again and grasped my arm.
I moved even closer.

“That’s not important now. John, please
stop this madness. Forgive Jane for loving Michael. Even if you don’t want to
see her again. Cancel the search warrant. They’ll never come back.” We were so
close I could feel his breath on my cheek.

“I can’t do that. In any case, the archbishop
wouldn’t allow it.”

“What is his interest in the matter?”

“He’s trying to help me.”

“He’s helping you imprison your mother?”

Our faces were closer now, so close that
if I moved an inch, our lips would touch. He grabbed my head with his right
hand, pulling my hair, and pressed his face against mine, then slid his lips
along my cheek, forcing his way between my lips. I wanted to push him away, but
instead I slipped my arms around his neck and returned the drunken kiss. It
felt like home. It was exactly where I wanted to be.

Seconds later, he pushed me away
violently. I fell backwards onto the couch.

“What are you doing, you witch?” His brown
eyes had turned black, and he was breathing heavily.

It took me a few moments to recover my
breath and my senses. “What am I doing? You kissed me!”

“I’d say you wanted me to kiss you, and
that’s what I did, but I have no desire to kiss you.” He pointed a finger at me.
“Keep away from me. The archbishop warned me about you. You’re just like your
mother, a mad sorceress.”

I realised the archbishop could easily
have me removed to an asylum, too. I wouldn’t help Jane or myself by making John
angry.

“We’ve both drunk too much, that’s all.
I’m not used to drinking. I’m sorry, John, if I provoked you. It was
unintentional.” I patted the empty seat beside me on the couch. “Let’s sit down
and talk.”

He dropped into an armchair at a
distance from the couch. He was trying to control his breathing and his temper,
and I wondered if he had felt the same pull as I had. Most of our previous
kisses had been softer, sweeter, although sometimes he had kissed me with such
passion as he had just shown me. Nobody else had ever kissed me like that, and
I sighed, realising I was still in love with him. Whatever he had done, it
didn’t matter. Whatever he did in the future, it wouldn’t matter either. I
couldn’t help loving him. I waited for him to speak.   

“Admiral Fitzjames came to see me this
morning. He has a solution.”

I pretended I had no idea. “Please, tell
me about it.”

“My mother will come back to Eyre Hall,
eventually, on her own. I’ve told the admiral that she won’t return to Grimsby
Retreat if she refrains from mentioning that servant and behaves in a fitting
manner.”

“And Michael?”

He leapt up from the armchair and approached
me with madness in his eyes. “I don’t want to hear that name ever again, do you
hear me? He’s ruined my mother and destroyed my family!” 

I waited for him to compose himself and
continue.

“The admiral proposed that the servant
should return to the navy and stay away from England forever. I hope he dies at
sea in some distant battle. The archbishop was not in agreement, and neither
was I, but the admiral insisted, saying it would avoid any further scandal, so
we finally agreed.”

“When is Jane coming back?”

“She will be taken to Wales, to recover
at her cousin Mary and Reverend Wharton’s home in Kilpeck. You have seen her
yourself. Apparently, she is in no fit state to be seen at Eyre Hall at this
moment, and I wish to avoid any further gossip. Mr. Wharton will bring her back
to Eyre Hall next month, when she has recovered. By then, that man will be
rotting in a frigate somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.”

I knelt beside his armchair and put my
hand on his arm. “John, it won’t work, they…”

He shrugged off my hand and stood.
“Don’t say another word. The alternative is unspeakable. She will spend the
rest of her days in an asylum and he will be hanged.”

“Hanged, on what accusation?”

“Murder. He killed a man.”   

“No one was killed when they escaped
from the Retreat. A warden was knocked unconscious, that was all.”

“The warden was found this morning, devoured
by a pack of hounds.”

“What does that have to do with either
of them?”

“A man was seen tying him up and throwing
him in the hounds’ den. Mr. Raven’s son was in the vicinity and identified the
servant.”

“How convenient for Mr. Raven’s business
interests. It’s not true. Michael’s spent every minute of his time with Jane
since they escaped. Yesterday they were at Thorpe House in Morton. Mr. Raven
saw nothing, and you know it.”

“Perhaps, but if we press charges he’ll
be hanged.”

“You’ll never understand it, John, until
it happens to you. It would be like cutting a rose from its stem. She’ll wither
and die without him.”

He pressed his fingers into my arm. “I’d
rather have a dead mother than a disgraceful one.”

His words were like a hammer pounding
inside my head. “John, you can’t mean it.”

“But I do, sister.”

He walked out of the room and slammed
the door.

Pins and needles prickled at the back of
my eyes and within seconds, tears were flooding again. I asked myself how love
could generate such extreme hate. I shuddered to think of the dreadful events
which were still in store.

 

***

Other books

Bloody Sunday by William W. Johnstone
Existence by James Frey
The Lifeboat Clique by Kathy Parks
Blaze of Fury by Storm Savage
A Little Friendly Advice by Siobhan Vivian
Angel Fire by L. A. Weatherly
Rock Stars Do It Harder by Jasinda Wilder