by Luccia Gray
Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall
By Luccia Gray
Text copyright © 2015 Lucia Garcia Magaldi
All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 978–84–608–1408–5
Dedication
For my grandsons Alejandro and Michael, who dream of action and adventures at sea.
Rediscover the world of Jane Eyre...
Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall is the second volume of The Eyre Hall Trilogy, which chronicles the lives and vicissitudes of the residents of Eyre Hall from the beginning to the height of the Victorian era.
Following Edward Rochester’s death, Jane Eyre, who has been blackmailed into marrying a man she despises, will have to cope with the return of the man she loved and lost. The secrets she has tried so hard to conceal must be disclosed, giving rise to unexpected events and more shocking revelations.
Romance, mystery, and excitement will unfold, based on the lives of the original characters, while bringing to life new and intriguing ones, spinning a unique and absorbing narrative, which will move the action from the Yorkshire countryside, to Victorian London, and across the Atlantic Ocean to colonial Jamaica.
Contents
Dedication
Rediscover the world of Jane Eyre...
Contents
Part One: Broken Hearts
Chapter I – Midshipman Kirkpatrick
Chapter II – Nell
Chapter III – Annette Receives John’s Letters
Chapter IV – Lunch at Thorpe House
Chapter V – Mr. Mason Returns
Chapter VI – Christmas Dinner
Chapter VII – Upheaval at Eyre Hall
Chapter VIII – Captain Carrington’s Advice
Chapter IX – Mrs. Banks’ Letter
Chapter X – Saint Stephen’s Day Lunch
Part Two: Memorable Days
Chapter XI – Mrs. Banks
Chapter XII – New Year’s Eve Ball
Chapter XIII – The Innocents
Chapter XIV – Mr. Dickens Visits Eyre Hall
Chapter XV – Simon Travels to London
Chapter XVI – Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall
Chapter XVII – Helen’s Mother
Chapter XVIII – Murderers Confess
Chapter XIX – Junot Returns
Chapter XX – Michael’s Proposal
Part Three: The Devil’s Little Days
Chapter XXI – The Rochester Siblings
Chapter XXII – A Brawl at Eyre Hall
Chapter XXIII – The Vault
Chapter XXIV – Dr. Carter’s Request
Chapter XXV – More Secrets Unveiled
Chapter XXVI – John’s Decision
Chapter XXVII – Tranquil Intermission
Chapter XXVIII – Ransom
Chapter XXIX – The Voyage Out
Chapter XXX – Jamaica
The Eyre Hall Trilogy
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Part One: Broken Hearts
“I have not broken your heart – you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you – oh, God! Would you like to live with your soul in the grave?”
Heathcliff, Wuthering Heights, Chapter 15
'The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.”
Nicholas Nickleby, Chapter 1
Chapter I – Midshipman Kirkpatrick
Bay of Biscay, November 1866.
A raging gale had been roaring ruthlessly, tossing our frigate against the choppy grey waters of the Bay of Biscay, rain soaking through our clothes on the waterlogged deck.
The lookout shouted and waved his arms frantically, signalling the arrival of a boat to starboard. I rushed to the railings and saw a small vessel propelled by oars in the hands of four drenched men struggling to keep from capsizing. The boat leapt on the waves before finally drawing up alongside H.M.S. Princess Helena. I hailed it in and signalled for help. The men who rushed to my side helped me pull up the thick, wiry rope that gashed our numbed fingers.
The first three men climbed up, but the fourth older and heavier occupant slipped down, unable to grasp the ladder. I slid down to the boat and pulled up the large, limp body of the worn–out mariner, who looked as if his days at sea had been too many, and his present plight too exhausting to live through the ordeal. He coughed and retched before collapsing onto the deck.
“Take the captain down to the surgeon, now!”
My order was obeyed instantly, and the near cadaver disappeared from our sight.
“We’re dangerously close to the waterline!” shouted Blains. The terrified look from such an experienced man meant we were in trouble.
I had already learned that I should never give an order I wasn’t prepared to carry out myself. Although I was exhausted and shivering violently, I ripped off my shirt and bailed out more water while shouting at my men to do the same.
Hours later, when the storm had relented, our limbs exhausted and muscles aching from overwork, Blains approached me. ‘The waterline is well visible. Perhaps you should get some dry clothes on, sir.’
It struck me then that I was indeed the senior rank on deck, and their lives and the ship had been in my hands all night, perhaps even longer. I examined the exhausted sailor. “You could do with a rest yourself, Blains.”
“I’ve been here all night, sir, but you’ve doubled shifts. You’ve been on deck for forty–eight hours!”
I looked down at my rolled–up trousers, mostly ripped and dripping with brine. Then I looked around the deck floor. Various men lay limp and unconscious. I sighed with exhaustion and impotence, and then threw a groaning body over my shoulder.
“I’ll take him down to the surgeon, but I’ll be back soon. Meanwhile tell those who are still standing and able to work to hold the masts, tie the sails, and keep scooping out the water.”
Blains nodded and turned back to work.
Below deck, the vastness and rage of the waters seemed to diminish, my ringing ears felt drowned and deaf, and my body weightless and weary.
Cries, mingled with the sour smell of stale blood, greeted me as I approached the surgery. The surgeon wiped the sweat off his face with bloodstained sleeves and sighed as he examined the man I had dragged in. He pushed him to the side angrily.
“This one is almost dead! Don’t bring them down unless I can help them! I have two hands and enough to do.”
He turned away from me and I watched his hunched back curl over his patients.
“Where should I take them?”
“Leave them on deck for the time being. Don’t waste time or strength on the dead.”
“I can’t do that. They’ll surely die on deck without attention.”
“Then find somewhere else for them to die! I don’t want them dying here. They’ll get in my way. Bring me the ones I can save. Don’t bring me any more dead bodies. This is a surgery, not a morgue!”
“How shall I know who to save?”
“Look into their eyes, see if there’s life left in them, or hold their pulse, here.” He thrust his hand onto my neck and pushed. “If it beats strongly bring him up, if it is weak, take him anywhere you like, but not here.”
“I can’t make those decisions. I’m midshipman.”
“Seems to me you’re the only one who can make decisions at the moment. Lieutenant Ramsey is dead, and Captain Carrington is too sick to open his eyes, the other midshipmen are obeying your orders, so it’s up to you to decide, Patrick.”
My ears were ringing, and I could hardly understand the words he was saying. I must have looked dazed because he grabbed my arm, shaking me back to my
senses.
“Wake up man, this is the real world. It’s what you came here for, isn’t it? You’re not on a passenger cruise ship! This is a bloody warship in a storm, protecting Her Majesty’s merchandise from French privateers! Get back up there and do your duty. Save this ship and as many lives as you can!”
I hesitated, too stunned to utter a word, before turning to leave the surgery.
“One more thing, Patrick. Remember this: ‘what the sea wants, the sea will have’, and you can’t do anything to change that.”
“My name is Midshipman Kirkpatrick, sir. I’d be obliged if you remembered it.”
He ignored my comment and turned back to his patient. “We’ll bury the dead at sea tomorrow.”
“But we’ll be back in England next week! Their families can bury them.”
He turned back to look at me and spoke softly. “Too long. They can’t stay on board or we’ll all die.”
Those words broke my heart more than the sight of the corpses themselves. We had never buried my father.
“You’re a good man, Patrick, and you’ll make a good captain one day, although I’ll never see it. This is my last voyage and the captain’s too, if you ask me, although the devil looks after his own, doesn’t he?”
I went back up to the deck with my men until the storm ceased at sunrise, and we were able to rest our worn–out limbs, for a few hours, at last.
***
The doctor insisted on a speedy sea burial, so the next morning the bodies of the dead were delivered to the waves. The captain was still bedridden, and the doctor said he was too busy preventing more deaths to attend, so I said the Lord’s Prayer as their bundled bodies, sewn in sailcloth, were cast into the waters. I hoped my father’s burial had been witnessed by a similar crew, whose bare heads had also bowed in respect for their dead comrades.
I watched the bundles sink into the hungry dark waters and later recorded their names and place of death in the ship’s log, so that their wives and children could engrave the date on their tombstones, as my mother had done.
That evening, I could not find rest, so I returned to the deck to pray for the dead. The sea was as still as a mirror, alight with the sparkling moon and starlight. It would have been a beautiful sight if my eyes had not been clouded by the curse of emptiness.
I dug the red button out of my jacket pocket and held it up to the waxing moon. The moonbeams flowed through the its holes, taking on the tint of its red colour, and confusing my stunned eyes into seeing a vision of soft pale skin and long auburn hair. I had willed myself not to think about Jane, although it was impossible to forget the reason I was a living corpse.
I had left her because I was a coward. I could not bear to see her marrying another man, and yet I knew she needed me, and that she might not have married him if I had stayed, but I had been unprepared to take the risk.
That night was not the first time I had seen mermaids with hair the colour of the sea and skin like mother of pearl calling me with their sweet songs. Sailors say they entice men into the water and then turn into fierce creatures with fangs, who drag them to the bottom of the sea where they are devoured.
I wished they would devour me, so my agony would end. I came to sea to forget her, or die like my father, yet I was condemned to remember and survive.
When daylight crept over the sky, I went down to my shared quarters, put dry clothes over my shivering body, held the button firmly in my hand, and slept for the first time in days. Hours later, Blains’ staunch hand shook my shoulder and told me the captain wanted to see me in his quarters, at once.
***
Captain Carrington looked up from his desk and waved a hand towards the chair facing him, and then busied himself with some papers, seeming to ignore my presence.
It was rumoured that he had spent so long waiting for a captain’s commission, that his hair had turned white and his skin grey. His face was dented with deep ridges that cut his hollow cheeks, and his head and stomach were unusually large compared to his scrawny limbs. I wondered how he had become so overweight with the meagre portions we ate while at sea.
He folded a document, which looked like a letter, and then stared at me before addressing me at last. “Sit down. Why are you here, Midshipman Kirkpatrick?”
“I wanted to be in the navy, like my father, sir.” I had said the words so often I had convinced myself they were true.
“Who are you running away from?”
I took a few seconds to reply to his unexpected question. “I have never run away from any man, sir.”
“I can believe that.”
His eyes dug into mine, once again. “Cold blood. Determination. I’ve seen you kill without a second thought, when you needed to.”
The crew were mostly decent, self–respecting men, who worked hard and obeyed the regulations. However, there had been a few blackguards of the worst sort, tough merciless men who stole rum and provisions, slept on guard, and increased the workload of the rest of the crew. Many of them had served their time in prison, where they should have remained. A group of such criminals had provoked a mutiny threatening the captain’s life shortly before our arrival in Jamaica. In spite of being flogged for not joining their criminal uprising, I managed to escape with the help of a few brave and loyal sailors and suppressed the rebellion by slaying the scoundrels.
“I’m prepared to do what is necessary for my ship and the crew, sir.” I was relieved that the conversation had returned to professional matters.
“Then it’s a woman you are running away from.” He smiled wryly, and I knew there was no point in denying it. I could not imagine how he knew, because we had never spoken about personal matters. “Not a woman, sir. A very special lady.”
“They are all special to someone, my boy. Beyond your station, perhaps? Her family didn’t think you were good enough, did they?”
“Something like that, sir.”
“So you came here to fix that, did you? To prove that you’re worthy of the damsel?”
“I came to forget.” I had not spoken to anyone about Jane since I left Eyre Hall and it was more painful than I had imagined.
“Of course, to forget.” He nodded mockingly, pressed his fingers on the mahogany desk and raised himself up painfully, swearing as he limped around the cabin. He stopped behind me, breathing down my neck. “But you can’t, can you? She is in your thoughts, under your skin, inside your blood, and you cannot pull her out. You smell her before you fall asleep and touch her in your dreams, don’t you?”
I was relieved that he stood behind me. I needed time to compose myself. How could he know how I felt if I did not understand my feelings myself?
“And when you wake up, your whole body misses her, and your heart aches to hear her voice, you long to look into her eyes, preferably looking up to you from beneath.” I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Am I right, Kirkpatrick?”
I was silent, containing my breathing. How could he know?
“So, what are you going to do about it, man?”
“Nothing, sir. It’s impossible.”
He returned to his seat, staring at me again. “And if you were to return as a commissioned officer, as a lieutenant. Would that make it easier to convince her father?”
“No, sir. It would not.”
“Interesting, no father.” He shuffled the papers on his desk then looked up. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get yourself killed almost every day since we set sail six months ago, Lieutenant?”
“I’m not a lieutenant, sir.”
“You’re a dangerous and valuable man who can kill with one hand and plan the mathematical coordinates of the ship with the other. Your father would have been proud of you, and, one day, so will your beloved’s family.”
“Thank you, sir, for your concern, but I’m afraid not, sir. The lady is out of the question.”
“Then you’ll have to replace her.”
“Never.”
“Admirable self–control and loyalty. I presume s
he must be married?”
“She is beyond my reach, sir.”
“You were a valet at a country estate before enlisting, am I right?”
I nodded.
“I don’t think a young maid would have made you flee, or rejected you, and seeing the ambition and astuteness in your eyes, I added two and two, and realised it must have been the mistress of the house, or her daughter. Which was it?”
The captain was a gruff man, and although he had been the closest to a father figure I had ever had since my father’s death, I was not ready to discuss my feelings with him.
“In any case, young man, I suggest you start thinking about improving your life, instead of trying to get yourself killed and wasting your life.”
He was right. Jane had offered me a place by her side, and I had joined the navy because I was afraid of commitment. Was I trying to cover up my cowardice by risking my life at sea?
“You know why you are here, don’t you?” The captain interrupted my gloomy thoughts. “Admiral Fitzjames, my last commander, asked me to look after you because your father died in his service; that’s the only reason someone as inexperienced as you would ever have got on board a frigate after only six months at naval school.”
“Thank you for the opportunity, sir.”
“I’m going to give you some advice because you saved my life, and because I can see you have it in you to further your career in the navy. We need good officers who can command respect, and risk their lives.” He paused. “Go back to her, son.”
“I told you it was not possible, sir.”
“You’ll get yourself killed if you don’t. You need to go back and either get her out of your system, or back into your life.”
“Thank you, sir, for your advice. I will think on it.” I wasn’t prepared to tell him why I was living with my soul in the grave.
He pointed his index finger in my direction. “You do that.”
“Anything else, sir?”
He walked to the mahogany cabinet to his right and grabbed a decanter, clumsily splashing some brandy onto the carpet as he did so. He pointed his glass at the painting that hung above his desk. Lord Nelson stared back at him with a sardonic smile.
