'As you wish, Mr Rochester,' Miller replied, and he sat back down on the chair.
Mrs Fairfax left and I made myself comfortable on the bed, though I suspected I would be needed to help keep Edward upright, he was not strong enough to stand for a long time. But Miller was truly a committed nurse, for he asked the seamstress, 'Would it be possible to take the gentleman's measurements sitting down, ma'am? He should not stand up for a long time.'
The seamstress looked a bit difficult.
'I have a lot of measurements to take, I don't usually make gentlemen's coats, so I was planning to make a sketch of what Mr Rochester is expecting to wear to church.'
Of course she was expecting him to wear a coat, not a waistcoat! I thought I could help.
'If I may borrow your sketchpad and pencil, might I draw you an example of what is needed?'
I had a reasonable idea of what Edward wanted and with the seamstress'
materials I quickly drew an elaborate waistcoat that would perfectly match my white gown, and suit my fiancée's broad figure. I then showed my sketch to Edward, who looked up at me as infatuatedly as I had just looked at him.
'It's exactly what I was thinking of, you really are one of the green people, to delve in a man's mind and grab the pictures he keeps there.'
Then at the seamstress, 'Can you make this for me, good lady? I am not allowed to wear anything too heavy or too tight until my burns heal.'
I showed the lady my sketch, and she looked much relieved.
'Very easily, sir, it's much like a bodice, even simpler. Can I keep this sketch to make a pattern of, and to write the measurements in? For such a simple piece I can get the measurements in a heartbeat, you will not be required to stand still for very long, sir.'
She produced a tape, as Edward got up to his full length and breadth. It was funny to see the seamstress look up at him and realise she'd never reach his shoulders and neck.
'Maybe you could sit down after all, sir?'
Miller was already on his way with the chair he had been using, and Edward sat on it back to front, so the seamstress could measure his broad back and his bulky shoulders and solid neck. She did not forget to measure his much slimmer waist, giving me great hope the new waistcoat would be very
becoming.
When she was done, she requested Edward to turn around, and he sat up straight so she could take even more measurements. She asked him several details, how many buttons he wanted, whether he wanted a pocket for his watch, how deep the neck should be. Edward was uncomfortable, and I wondered whether he was in pain. I'd seen him in pain the entire week, though; this was different. I soon guessed it was because of his face being turned towards a stranger, though the lady never gave the slightest sign of being disturbed by the livid burn mark, no longer a wound, but not yet a scar, covering nearly the entire left part of his face.
Indeed she took no longer than five or ten minutes to complete her measurements, and then we all sat down to choose fabric, buttons and lining.
Miller explained that the waistcoat should not rub on the left shoulder, and the left of his patient's chest, and only then did the seamstress seem to notice the damage the fire had wrought on my beloved.
'I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realise those burns still hurt; I hope I didn't touch one by accident while taking your measurements. I think I can find a springy woollen fabric for the lining, to pvent rubbing. You may establish a new fashion, it's so much easier to have several waistcoats made than a perfectly fitted coat. Well, thank you, sir, for your patience, and miss, for your commissions.'
The next day we did visit the ruins of what our bedrooms had been, it was a sad sight, and the air was still very bad, troubling Edward's breathing more than he liked to admit. The fire had indeed broken through the wall to the hall before the fire-crew and a typical fall rainstorm had subdued it; when we looked inside my bedroom the sky was grey over our heads, the wind chasing clouds. The floor above it had collapsed and taken part of the roof with it, and for a moment I felt it could never be restored to what it had been.
But Edward was almost gay, he didn't seem to doubt everything would be all right, he was making plans for our new room, and turned towards me to ask,
'Do you think we should change things altogether? Let's leave the top floor off, we'll never use those attics again anyway. You know what, I'll talk to a builder, there are several in Millcote; I'll ask Carter which one is the best.
Maybe they can use those newfangled techniques, with cast iron and glass, like they use in those huge factories.'
He seemed glad to have to rebuild half his house, maybe he liked having
everything that reminded of his late wife removed.
'Won't it be very expensive?' I asked.
'Yes, incredibly expensive. Which is why I'm marrying an heiress.'
Since it was just us up there, and we were engaged, I embraced him and stood on my toes to kiss him. The burn in his face was already starting to pucker at the edges, where it had healed the furthest; he would bear the scars of this fire the rest of his life, but I had never seen him so glad, so free of care as now; standing amidst the burned wreckage with his head shaven, wearing loose wrinkled trousers and a peculiar kind of shirt with buttons all the way down, garments Miller had developed for his patients, a little more dignified than a night-shirt, but less restrictive than normal trousers and coats.
When we got back to his bedroom he was worn out, breathing hard because of the bad air. I spoiled him for an hour while he rested, then he had his treatment and spent an hour with Miller, as I played with Adele.
The seamstress dropped by with the results of very hard labour, my dress ready to be fitted, Edward's waistcoat almost done. She must have worked through the night, with her entire family, to have that done so quickly. She adjusted several seams, then left quickly, presumably to work through another night.
That evening Edward and I parted for the last time to go to bed, tomorrow we would share a bed, and every night after. We kissed, I left, a little nervous about the next morning.
I did not dream that night, or I did not remember, nor did I feel troubled over the coming ceremony. Nothing would keep us apart, we would return wedded, and little would change except our sleeping arrangements.
Chapter 5
My white gown was delivered in time and fit perfectly, and when I entered Edward's room wearing it he took my right hand in both his and kissed it reverently. I had let Sophie do my hair despite the painful memories, but not elaborately, just a little less prim than my usual Quaker style.
Edward looked fine, his waistcoat was beautiful over a pristine white shirt, and it did not hinder or pain him at all; he wore a pair of the loose trousers of his sickbed with it, but starched and ironed until it looked almost formal.
Of course there were nerves, how could there not be after what happened last time? But Edward did not try to deny my fears, this time he expressed his understanding, tried to soothe them as best he could, and yes, admitted to his own.
'I feel horrible, Jane, everything reminds me of my betrayal of you, and God, I'm still so afraid to be punished, I feel I have no right to be happy, I didn't suffer enough to make up for my crimes.'
Frankly, I was stunned. For nearly two weeks now, I had seen him tortured with excruciating pain, it was lessening, but he was still suffering for his courage to try to save the woman who had made his life Hell on earth. How could he expect to suffer more? As always, the need of a fellow creature brings out the best in us, and I managed to set my own fears aside to try and calm my beloved.
We sat in silence all the way to church, where we stood side by side, seeking support from the other, Edward as much as myself.
But of course, nothing untoward happened, and we spoke our vows and were married without mishap. We had kissed before, but nothing compared to that moment of release, we were finally one; from now on we had the right to be together forever, we might share everything, no person in the whole world was closer t
o either of us than the other.
There was no need for words, we went back to the carriage hand in hand; sat in silence until we arrived at Thornfield. We accepted congratulations from the staff, and from Miller, then we retreated to Edward's bedroom and sat on the bed together for several moments; the trip to church and the anxiety had worn him out, and there was Miller's treatment still to come, so I thought to help my beloved into his loose shirt, then let him sleep for an hour.
I took his waistcoat off him and put it away, then started on the buttons of his shirt. But suddenly, I was no longer aiding a wounded man, I was undressing my husband, and my hands started to explore what had been forbidden for me to touch. I stroked the soft hair under his shirt, feeling my beloved shudder beneath me.
Quickly but carefully, I pulled the shirt over his head as I had seen him do that one night, his broad chest no longer the object of my worries, but of my passion. Finally I was allowed to touch it with desire, and I explored every inch of it, all my senses overwhelmed by love and yes, by lust.
And did Edward allow me to do all that without reciprocating? To be honest,
he did, his eyes were shooting fire, but the rest of him was quiet, too quiet. I had expected him to start on my buttons again, was hoping he would. But wait, was he breathing a shade too heavily? Had the morning been too much for him? I stopped my caresses and looked my question.
'I am ptty tired, love, and in conflict with myself. I so want to caress you, and kiss and feel you, but I'm sure I'd lose control over my urges. You know I'm wild; if I lose it I'll hurt myself, but most of all, I'll hurt you.'
'You could never hurt me, dear Edward, but I suppose you know what's coming. What do you want me to do? Just lie against you and let you sleep for an hour or so?'
He seemed to come to some decision and said, 'No, please go on, I've wanted you to touch me for so long. But with your permission I'll control myself until I'm wide awake; and if I fall asleep, please forgive me, dear Jane, the morning was harder on me than I expected. Memories kept coming, my conscience nagged me incessantly, and I was so afraid your cousin would step up and forbid the marriage. That would have killed me.'
Would I ever see the passionate, dominant wild man again that I had fallen for? Or had my Edward's spirit been broken? He suggested he was suppressing his wild side, but right now he seemed nothing so much as tame and listless. I decided to just give him some time, maybe the ferocious creature would come back; maybe I should take to calling him master again, to build him up, though I knew I shouldn't, and besides, what difference did one word make?
Still, he relished my tender touch on his powerful chest, and powerful it was; even after his ordeal he still sported heavy muscles on his arms and abdomen, covered with very little fat. Instead of arousing him, my caresses relaxed him and he slowly gave himself up to sleep. When he slept, I got my book and snuggled against him, planning to read for an hour until it was time for his treatment.
A knock on the door awoke me, it was Miller, feeling understandably embarrassed.
'I'm so sorry to disturb you, Mrs Rochester...'
I could not repress a broad smile at his delicate reminder of my newly married state, though I was a bit displeased with myself for having fallen asleep when I was perfectly fine.
'Mrs Fairfax asks whether you would like to have dinner in the dining-room,
she said she has countered the master's orders by having a special dinner prepared for the newly-weds. Your first decision as the mistress of the household lies before you, Mrs Rochester.'
That sounded almost like a challenge! From mild, kindly Miller? Had Mrs Fairfax told Miller how things usually worked in this house? How Edward ruled everything? Were the two of them in a plot to push me towards securing the territory I had seized from an invalid, now my husband? A look at Edward's hired nurse proved me right, they were. I supposed they had talked a lot the last ten days, Miller was an easy fellow to confide in, and Mrs Fairfax must have been very much shaken up.
'I think it's an excellent idea, if you have no objections to the strain he'll be under. But I'm sure you'd have told her, and me, if you thought it would harm your patient. Please tell her we'll be pleased to come down, or do you pfer I tell her myself?'
'I suppose Mr Rochester would not appciate waking up to my presence instead of yours. You know I'm glad he doesn't hate me? Some of my patients do, Mrs Rochester. They avoid looking at me when I accidentally meet them in town, it can last for years. They cannot help it, I guess, I saw them at their worst, hurt them and in their eyes, humiliated them.'
'But you saved their lives, weren't they thankful?' I was stunned to hear this.
'I don't think they want to feel that way towards me, and I guess they're glad to be still alive or not to have lost a limb, but something inside them was damaged by what they went through. Your husband may have raged at me, and he may still fear my treatments, but he can separate the pain from my person. I admire him for his strength, and I admire you, for braving his wild rage to help him.
But as important as your courage, and his own, have been, there is more to come for your husband. He has been very secluded here, very safe if you wish. You may have noticed he drew back from the seamstress? I won't lie to you, Mrs Rochester, my task here is ending, but yours is just starting. When the pain recedes, he may regain his former dominance, his vitality, all by himself. But he will also need someone to help him face his fears of rejection by society.
No matter their rank or how forceful their natural character, everybody fears rejection and needs support to accept the damage that has been done; visible as Mr Rochester's, or invisible, as in other cases.
And you will need to watch yourself, too, you may want to give too much.
He will not be helped by your giving in to his every whim, please do not go back to your old habits; stay firm and decisive. You will both thrive. If you ever feel a need to talk with someone unconnected to you, I'll leave you my home address. You may always contact me, I know you respect my expertise despite my being from a lower class.'
Well I certainly did, even more now.
'Thank you for your explanation, Miller. I assure you, I will not be an obedient underling anymore but a stable and self-assured wife. But I also realise situations may arise that I have no experience with, and you do. So I thank you for your offer of a listening ear and expert advice, though I hope I'll never need them.
I am sure you are much more than a doctor's help, Miller, have you never considered starting your own practice?'
A wry smile from the plain but very able man.
'I have, Mrs Rochester, and I'm still considering it. But I need the steady income for my family, and Dr Carter has been good to me, providing work and references. To set myself up as his competition would be a strange way to thank him.'
'Maybe you can become partners, he seems a very nice and able man as well.'
'He is, and doors open to him that would remain closed to me. Not everyone can overlook birth as well as you and your husband do.
Shall we wake him now? Have it over with?'
Several of the more superficial burns on Edward's scalp no longer needed attention, nor did most of the rest seem as painful today; but the worst two, in his face and on his left hand, caused him plenty of hurt.
I watched him this time, and though his face grimaced while he suffered, it cleared immediately afterwards, revealing an excellent mood. He spoke to Miller very familiarly, and without the slightest reproach, rather with respect and appreciation.
'You see before you a very happy man, Miller, I feel much better, I think my lungs are indeed improving. I used to feel wrung out after lying flat for some time, but now I feel restored. Though that may be the prospect of my wedding-night still ahead, I suppose I won't know for certain until tomorrow.
'Mrs Fairfax will have dinner served in the dining-room, Edward,' I told him,
'she wanted to give us a little feast after all.'
Edward did look a li
ttle alarmed, this really needed to be done, or he'd become a recluse in his bedroom. I could see a task unfolding right in front of me, but did not fear it; I knew we'd come out stronger in the end.
'Great! I'll be glad to sit across my dear Jane as I did so very often, but as her husband now, allowed to feed her tidbits and kiss her between courses.
You're not expecting me to dress for it, I psume? I'll need to be broken to starched collars and fitted coats again, I'm afraid, Miller here has spoiled me.'
'I do not, though I may take a little extra effort myself. I have my get my husband in the right mood for tonight, you see.'
His face fell, and he confronted his doubt head on.
'I may joke about it, Jane, but I'm worried. You're such a gentle maiden, and there is so much rage built up in me. What if I lose it and hurt you, my better half? What if I spoil what Miller has achieved? Tear my wounds open, ruin my hand forever?'
I was totally stunned, he was not suggesting we wait to seal our marriage until he was cured? That might take months! Miller didn't seem put out at all, not by the embarrassing honesty with which his employer talked in his presence, nor with Edward's suggestion he might turn into a raving monster.
'Mr Rochester, I suspect you're not the kind to just ignore staff, so I guess you must have meant me to hear your confession. Please believe me when I tell you with the greatest conviction you will not lose control and hurt your beloved wife, no matter how much fervour you've built up.
I've seen your rage, sir, and she has proven herself entirely capable of controlling it under the most difficult circumstances. Believe me, Mrs Rochester can handle anything you might throw at her. And thus she can keep you from hurting yourself. Also, pain is a stern mistress, if you transgress, you'll feel it before you damage anything.
There is a whole world out there for you to get re-acquainted with, and I know no-one more suitable to explore it with than your lady wife. But she needs you to be hers in all respects. I have great trust in you, Mr Rochester, as has your missus. If you don't trust yourself, will you trust us?'
Deliverance Page 7
