Jane: A Jane Eyre Retelling

by Lark Watson

  He finally set the gun down, leaving him armed with only the two in his holsters, and lifted me into his arms, settling us both into the chair by the bed.

  “Marcus?”

  The doctor glanced my way. “Shock, keep her warm. Talk to her.”

  “I’m fine.” I felt foolish being the center of attention after doing nothing more than being locked in a closet. “I’m fine.”

  I tried to rise, but Thorne’s arms locked around me.

  “Maybe I’m not.” I began to realize that his hand was nearly as unsteady as my own as he ran it down my hair.

  “What of the rest of the house?” I couldn’t help but worry about how Sophie was doing with Adelia. I had little doubt Mrs. Fairfax had managed fine. The woman was basically a country house’s answer to a five-star general. Frank was probably below in his workshop, no idea shots had been fired.

  “All checked and on lockdown.” Micha glanced my way again, shooting me a brief smile. “No need to worry there. Mrs. Fairfax has everyone reined in tight.”

  We sat, all of us locked in our own spaces—the faint deep breaths rushing from Finn in moments of pain, Micha’s steady pacing from window to door and back—waiting. For what, I was not sure.

  But Thorne had taken a notebook out and was making notes while still insisting I remain where I was on his lap in the large leather chair. I wished for clothes and to check on the others, but I could see there was no sense in arguing the point with him.

  Of course, I was also glad to be present because I knew that if I left, anything I missed would not be shared. So, remaining allowed me to at least begin to guess at the scope of what was going on.

  Dr. Marcus finished with Finn then insisted on checking out Micha before moving on to Thorne and then myself, taking me into the bathroom to make sure I wasn’t lying about any injuries.

  “Ms. Jane, I’m going to ask you some questions that will remain between just the two of us.”

  I figured this was a chance for him to protect Thorne from the upstart nanny, but instead, he settled himself on the edge of the tub across from where I sat on the lid of the toilet. For the first time that evening, I stifled a laugh. No one had ever said a bathroom was the most conducive setting to a serious conversation.

  “This situation with Thorne, it’s new?”

  I assumed he meant the situation of me being naked in his apartments, so I nodded, untrusting of my voice to not squeak or break at the invasion to my privacy I should have seen coming if I were truly involved with the man.

  “And, it was by your own choice?”

  It took me a moment to realize what he was asking.

  My gaze locked on his and I couldn’t help but respect the man beyond my expectations. I could tell by his expression that if I replied no, I had not wanted to be brought into a physical relationship with my employer, he would have acted to set me free.

  Even against his own best interest.

  And so, it was a relief to me that I was able to tell him that yes. I was here of my own choosing and would remain, even against what might be my own best interest.

  I thought to ask him more, but it seemed unfair to put him on the spot after he’d shown me such a kindness.

  And so, we returned to the main part of the en suite where the men were arguing their next moves.

  A fourth man had joined them and he paused, giving me a long, slow-glare that painted me from head to toe with his scorn. Without a greeting he turned back to the others.

  Dr. Marcus escorted me back to the chair I’d shared with Thorne and dropped a blanket over my lap before joining the huddle of men at Finn’s bedside.

  It became clear that the new man, whoever he was, had brought reinforcements with him. He explained that the strangers below were being taken care of.

  I did not ask what that meant, but since Thorne and his men had taken such care to not kill where there was no need, I assumed that was not their fate now either.

  They finished their discussion, with the man leaving and Dr. Marcus and Micha helping Finn out of the room to be housed elsewhere.

  The door shut behind them and Thorne was left standing, staring at the barricaded French doors and the damage that had been brought into his home.

  While he stared, deep in thought, I began to strip the bed of the bloody sheets, carrying them into the bathroom and leaving them in a pile in the corner to be dealt with later.

  My clothes had been trampled and bled on, so I put them in another small pile on top of his dresser.

  Then I sat in the chair and watched him, something I’d done from a distance for so long that to do so at close range and nearly with permission was an indulgence.

  The moments stretched out and I felt no need to fidget or leave. The evening had taken a turn that left me contemplative, but oddly not fearful.

  A knock came at the door and Thorne drew his gun, glancing around the room as if to place me in it before stepping over to open it.

  The man who hadn’t introduced himself stepped back inside and shut the door again, throwing the deadbolt I hadn’t noticed before.

  “Thorne, we’ve got to get this straight before I go.”

  They faced one another before Thorne finally nodded and turned back into the room, letting the man follow him in.

  “Donovan, Jane.” He swung his hand in my direction as he reached into a cabinet and brought out a bottle of liquor, pouring each of them one and making an offer of a glass to me.

  When I shook my head, he crossed over and sat on the arm of my chair, motioning the other man into its twin.

  “Thorne, there’s no way we can cover this up without it going wide. You know that.”

  “Hell, Donovan, do you think that’s my primary concern?”

  Thorne ran his fingers through his hair, raising the coarse dark tips on their ends.

  “I’m calling in to make this go as far away as I can, but this is not what I need.”

  Donovan pulled a phone out of his pocket and waved it in front of him like it was a small weapon.

  “Right. Because I’d planned to have a home invasion with this many people under my protection just laying in their beds waiting to be blown up.” Thorne grabbed the phone from Mr. Donovan’s hand and tossed on the bed. “Let’s get something straight. This plan was going to go sideways at some point and you knew it. Do not come into my home where I am patching my people back together and assume to judge me for the expected finally happening.”

  The two men stared at one another, a power of wills so severe I wondered how it would turn. Mr. Thorneton had always been the alpha male in any room I’d seen him in, but this Mr. Donovan had an aura of power I’d not expected of one of Thorne’s reports.

  It was dawning on me that perhaps he was not under the leadership of Thorne as Micha and Finn were.

  “Fine.” Mr. Donovan shook his head and raised a hand as if in surrender. “You’re right. But you should have seen this coming.”

  “Have you not noticed this place is practically a fortress now? The wall out back? They had to blow it twice to get in.”

  “And the house below?”

  “Reinforced the same way with security alarms that were the only reason we’re not all dead. Finn was brought in to double down guard efforts.”

  Mr. Donovan shook his head again, obviously conceding that perhaps all of us almost dying at the hands of strangers was not Thorne’s fault.

  “At least your wife is safe.”

  “Oh, I’m not his wife.” It seemed as if this were at least a place I could join the conversation.

  Then I realized what this must look like and wished I hadn’t.

  Mr. Donovan snorted and gave me a look of such disgust that I jerked back in my chair.

  “I meant his actual wife.”

  “Donovan.” Thorne’s voice was a low growl of warning.

  But I was already caught in the suspicious circling of that statement. The look the man gave me was one of such derision that I could only believ
e that he was doing more than causing trouble. He had stepped over a line and was fine being there.

  I turned to Thorne, waiting for him to correct the man. “What actual wife?”

  Donovan smirked, looking like he was enjoying this far too much. “The one who lives below in the cottage by the lake. The one he bought this house for. The one all the guards were hired to protect.” He took a step my way, his head tilting. “Oh, you didn’t think this was all for you did you?”

  Even as I shook my head, knowing none of this was for me, it was still a gut punch I couldn’t have expected. Of all the ways the night had gone sour and then wrong and then dangerous, this was by far the most personal—and the most personally hurtful.

  “That’s enough.” Thorne’s voice was low, a power surge of anger rushing out of him.

  He glanced my way, but I stayed where I was, frozen, gaze locked on this stranger, this Mr. Donovan enjoying the obliteration of my soul.

  “If there’s nothing else you’d like to destroy before you go?” Thorne crossed to the door and opened it, holding it for the man. “I’m sure you know what needs to be done. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

  I rubbed my hands over the blanket on my lap, trying to warm them as I watched Mr. Donovan grab his phone strut out of the room.

  I had no idea what was to come next. I wasn’t even sure the role I played in this farce any longer.

  All I knew was that the man I’d loved and felt as though I could trust with every piece of me had betrayed me without warning or forethought.

  “Jane.” He’d come to crouch in front of me, his hands taking mine and trying to rub warmth back into them. “Jane?”

  “Is it true?” Because there was no way to move forward without ascertaining that first. “You have a wife?”

  His gaze lifted from mine, staring blankly up and over my shoulder, his expression shuttered and—even while he tried to make a decision about how to handle the situation—I had already determined the truth.

  “Yes.”

  “And, she lives here with us?” Because somehow this seemed an even greater betrayal.

  He shook his head, taking one hand now and holding it, pinning me to him. “Not with us. But, she does live below in the cottage.”

  “So you can see her when you wish?”

  Thorne’s gaze snapped back to mine. “No.”

  He sounded so astounded by the thought that I drew up again, confused by this twist of the unknown world I’d stepped into.

  “She lives there because I need to protect her.”

  I nodded. Of course he’d want to keep his wife safe. The numbness was still there, but the edges were starting to burn off. I feared how I’d react when the numb was overtaken. I had no experience with such things as a rage or a betrayal or a heartbreak such as the one I feared was easing into my blood now.

  “Jane. Look at me.” He took my chin gently in his hand, and lifted my gaze to his, the first time it had gone there against its own violation. “She’s only my wife to protect her.”

  More of the numbness wore off the edges of my soul, letting me start to feel the other things seeping in.

  “But you’re married?” This still seemed unbelievable to me. That the man who had flirted so outrageously with Ms. Ingram and who just declared himself as mine—only mine—would be married.

  “Legally, yes.”

  The way he said that it was as if he believed there was some line where a marriage didn’t matter…legal or not was astounding

  “For how long?” I asked the question and then realized facts like that were irrelevant. To me, married was married.

  The rest of the ice burnt off the edges as he paced in front of me.

  “Four years.”

  I thought back of the time here and the photos I wished I hadn’t looked upon Ms. Ingram’s Instagram account and the fact that no one seemed either to know or to be bothered by this revelation.

  No one except myself.

  And, four years. That was to me still a lifetime. I hadn’t even been out of the homes for four years.

  Yet, here I was somehow, after years of looking out for myself and making the best and safest decisions, in a man’s room one step from him turning me into his whore. The woman he kept on the side with his money and power while his wife was none the wiser.

  No woman should be put in that position. The position of unknowingly coming between a man and his wife. The fact that he would take that knowledge and hold it in keeping leaving me to step unintentionally into a role I would not have knowingly accepted ripped into me like a tsunami of pain.

  The hurt and usage and dirtiness I felt suddenly was more than I would have wished on another.

  I rose, pushing the blanket to the floor and lifting my hand to ward him off as he stepped toward me.

  “You would have taken that choice from me.”

  He was shaking his head, as if to deny that which we could both see was true.

  “Yes. And I would never have known. When would you have told me?” I rushed on before he could answer, “Never I suppose.”

  “Jane, it’s not what you think.” He stepped forward again, held off only by the power of my glare. “She’s my wife in name only.”

  I felt the bitter laugh rise up from my gut and spin about in me making me dizzy with the anger gnawing at my patience.

  “She is…” He glanced away and I could all but read the thoughts going through his head as he worked to find an acceptable answer. “There are things you don’t know—“

  “Such as, you have a wife.”

  He went on as if I had not spoken. “I’m sure that after tonight you know that I’m…not quite what you might have expected.”

  I held my tongue instead of tossing out my immediate response of, Married?

  “The role I have is more than just that of a businessman. I’m not at liberty to divulge what goes on here but I can say I married Bettina only to take her out of harm’s way.”

  I stared at him, at a loss not only for what he could possibly mean by that, but what I was to say to it.

  Married was married.

  And he had to think me an even greater fool to not know that all was not as it seemed at Tower House.

  He had looked to make me his mistress without even seeing if that was offensive to me.

  And now, he had put himself in the position of hero to some unknown woman living below in the little fairy cottage I loved so much.

  I took a step back so I could move around him.

  “I need to go.”

  “Go?” he asked, as if the idea were foreign. As if there were anywhere else in the world for me to be.

  Which, sadly, was too close to the truth.

  “To think.” I took another step, as if making my way around a great bear who could spring on a small morsel at any moment.

  “I don’t want you to go think. I want us to talk about this.”

  “Is there anything more that you will tell me?”

  By the way his face immediately went blank, I knew I had guessed correctly. He did not want to talk more. He wanted to talk me into our former arrangement.

  “In that case, I’m going to my room.”

  He reached out a hand as I passed, just letting it run over my arm, not trapping me there.

  I hurried down the short hall and through his office out into the foyer. There I stopped, listening to make sure there was no heavy tread of him following along behind me. But the silence was oddly heartbreaking. It was both a relief to know he had listened to my request and would comply and a bit hard to accept that he would allow me to just walk out so easily without pushing his advantage.

  I turned to hurry up to my room, the chill of realizing I stood sockless—not to mention, pantsless—in the cold of the foyer, pushing me forward.

  But, when I turned I saw my little overnight bag sitting where Micha had left it what felt like days ago.

  As soon as my gaze settled on it, I knew there was a reason. Picking it up,
I hurried to my room and dropped it on the bed. I stepped to the window, glancing down at the wreckage of the courtyard and Mr. Thorneton’s wall. It was a small wonder the entire house lived through the night. I shivered a little at the close call it could have been.

  Then, with a quick jerk, I pulled the curtains closed.

  I took off his shirt and tossed it aside, grabbing my own warmer winter clothes and pulling them on. After I was dressed, I pulled out my new boots, dragging them on my feet then shoving as many of my belongings in my small bag, knowing a suitcase would not do for my plans.

  At the last moment, I put Mr. Thorneton’s shirt in the top, and zipped the bag shut.

  Chapter 40

  I left the light in my room on knowing it would be watched and it was too early to turn it off. Then, with all my layers on and my bag packed as tight as I could get it, I tip-toed down the hall looking in on Sophie and Adelia as I went.

  I knew they’d be fine. They’d come to be accepted by Mrs. Fairfax. And Frank couldn’t have cared less about the occupants in the house as long as they didn’t create more work for him.

  And so, with the burden of my wishes weighing against my soul. And, the soul had to win this. No matter how I craved to stay, to look away from what was right and to just take what I wanted.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I glanced around the foyer, dark now and stopped, sucking in a breath when a dark form stepped from the shadows.

  “Mouse.”

  Micha came forward, a look on his face that was harder to read than normal.

  “I have to go.” I argued before he could counter the decision I’d already made.

  His smile came slow and sad. “I know. I knew you would. I don’t think he does though.”

  His gaze darted to the closed office door across the tiled space.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to cross on it and knock. I could only wait, and this was an argument I’d rather have inside than out in the snow.

  When he turned back to me, it was jarring to see an expression of affection on his face. This from the man who had suspected me of coming here to manipulate his boss. As if I could have. I had always been at the disadvantage in this space.