Euphoria (The Thornfield Affair #1)

by Amity Cross

  I hardly knew whether I slept after this as my thoughts were on a constant rotation, but at any rate, I started wide awake as a chilling moan sounded outside in the hall. I sat up in bed, clutching the blanket to my chest, and listened, attempting to still my beating heart.

  What in the world?

  I tried to shake off the strange sensation that someone unknown was lingering outside, but the tranquility of sleep was broken. I knew I wouldn’t settle until I’d investigated, so I slipped from my bed and unlocked the door. Peering out into the darkened hall, there was no movement or person to be seen.

  “Who’s there?” I called out, but no one presented themselves.

  Thinking it must’ve been the odd Grace Poole on one of her midnight walks, I sighed and returned to my room, but as I went to close the door, a sound came again.

  This time, it was a laugh—low sounding, demonic, and deep—and it came from the other end of the hall. Knowing I might look back on this moment and think my next actions foolish, I cast my fear aside and replaced it with ire. I put my feet into my boots, and since I was wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a singlet, I didn’t bother to dress any further. Marching out into the hall, I turned to follow the sound. If someone was playing a game with me, indeed if it was Grace Poole, then she would be sorry.

  Since the night I first came across her wandering the halls and denying her strange laughter, she’d been hiding away unseen. She’d been attending her duties, that much was clear, but had not slipped once in my presence. Tonight she had woken me, and I would see for myself!

  “Who’s there?” I called out to the darkness once more. “Is that you, Grace?”

  No reply came as I’d suspected, so I walked down the hall, my boots treading softly on the carpet. When I reached the end, I turned and surveyed the next hallway, but it was empty, too.

  Laughter sounded again, much farther away this time, so I marched in pursuit of it, my annoyance rising with every step.

  This had better not be some wild goose chase, I thought to myself. It was much too late for this kind of excitement, especially when Thornfield was full of important guests.

  I followed the trail upstairs to the third floor, past the library, and then Edward’s study. Soon, I was in uncharted water. This part of Thornfield had been undiscovered by my ramblings, and the feel was different here.

  The air was quite dim as if it were filled with the haze of smoke. As I hastened forward looking for the source, I became aware of the strong and unmistakable scent of burning.

  A floorboard creaked, and I turned the corner, arriving into a hall of Thornfield I scarcely knew. Ahead, a door was ajar, and there came the source of the smoke, blue plumes rushing out from the crack.

  I thought nothing more of the strange sounds that had led me here. I thought nothing of the odd Grace Poole or Alice and the staff. Indeed, I thought nothing at all of Blanche Ingram and her haughty friends who slept a floor below me.

  Striding forward, I pushed through the door. It was then I realized I was standing in Edward’s bedroom, a place where I hadn’t been invited, the inner sanctum of the moody and complicated man I deigned to care for. But it wasn’t him I looked for, not at first. My gaze fixed upon the bright flickering of flame as it burned the foot of the bed, its fingers licking the edges of the quilt.

  Smoke was filling the room, and I covered my mouth with the back of my arm in an attempt to filter it out. Why weren’t the fire alarms working?

  Rushing forward, I gasped in panic as I beheld a sleeping Edward. I flung myself against the edge of the mattress, grasped his shoulders, and shook.

  “Edward!” I cried. “Edward! Wake!”

  He didn’t move, groaning in his sleep, and my gaze turned back to the fire, which had grown quickly. If I didn’t do something now, he’d burn alive!

  Rushing forward, I dragged the quilt off his bed and tossed it out into the middle of the room. The flames flickered wildly as I attempted to smother the burning fabric, desperately calling out for him to wake.

  “What…” His voice was groggy—in part from sleep, and in part from the smoke—as he crawled from his bed.

  The room plunged into darkness as the last of the flame was extinguished. Then a lamp came on, and I blinked furiously at the sudden light.

  Edward stood beside the bed, and when he saw me, he came forward, a look of astonishment on his face.

  “Jane, what are you…”

  “There’s been a fire, but it’s out now,” I said, moving across the room where I flung the curtains open. “We must open a window to let the smoke out.”

  “Jane, how did you come to be here?” he asked as I opened the window.

  I turned, the cold air blowing around my shoulders, dragging its fingers through my hair. Edward looked as bewildered as I felt, his eyes clouded and his chest bare. My gaze dipped as I realized he wore nothing but a pair of tight boxer briefs. I was thankful for the darkness as my cheeks heated, and I returned my stare to his.

  “A sound roused me from my sleep,” I explained lest he thought I was mad enough to try to burn him alive. “Strange laughter. It led me on such a chase through the halls, then… I don’t know what it was or who, but I was led here and found your bed ablaze.” I lowered my gaze, the thick scent of smoke clinging to the air. “I had to do something.”

  A look of anguish passed across his face. “Oh, Jane…”

  “Somebody did this,” I said, not understanding his reaction.

  He rubbed his eyes and didn’t answer. Either he was in shock or he was avoiding answering.

  “Shall I call for help?” I went on.

  “No,” he replied quickly. “Don’t say a thing, Jane. We must keep this quiet lest we alarm the guests.”

  “Who was it?” All at once, I thought of Grace Poole. Surely there was something strange about the way she skulked around Thornfield, but was she capable of attempting to harm Edward? If so, why? What reason did she have to hate him so?

  He closed the space between us, but he didn’t pull me into his arms, he only stared at me gravely. There was something strange happening in the darkened corners of the hotel, I was sure of it now, and it had everything to do with the demon that sat upon the master’s shoulder.

  “Please, stay here,” he said. “I shall be gone only a few minutes. Don’t move or call anyone. I shall deal with this.”

  “But—”

  “If there is a plot, I will investigate it now,” he said, the command clear in his voice. This was his word, his law, and I shouldn’t trifle with it.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, turning to his closet. Retrieving a woolen jumper, he stood before me and tugged it over my head. It was much too large for my slender frame, but it was warm and smelled exactly like him—spicy with a homely tinge of whiskey.

  “Thank you,” I said, burying into the fabric.

  He dressed hastily as I stood awkwardly, the events of the evening coming to rest full on my mind.

  “Don’t worry, Jane,” Edward murmured as he beheld my trembling form. “You are quite safe here.”

  He left me then, alone in his bedroom with nothing but my own mind and curiosity to serve me.

  I sank into a chair, too tired to pry—not that I’d have the heart to—and I dozed off despite my lingering fear of the spirit who’d led me to the fire. The same spirit who had most likely lit the blaze, which could have claimed Edward’s life if not for my following it. The thought of it being a very real human being with malicious intent made me tremble even more. To think I’d followed it blindly!

  He was gone a long time, though it was hard to tell exactly how long since I’d slipped into a fitful sleep, and when a sound outside startled me awake, I sat up, my eyes fixed firmly on the door. I hoped it was Edward and not the spirit come to finish its work.

  When the door opened and he emerged from the house beyond, tension bled from my body, and I rose, looking to him eagerly. What a strange relationship we now had! When we first met, he frigh
tened me so, but now I spoke to him as a lover and confidant as though he had been a part of my life all this time. I feared for him out there in the dark halls doing God knows what in pursuit of the spirit.

  “All is well,” he said, crossing to me.

  His hands reached out for me and came to rest on my arms, rubbing up and down as if to spread reassurance with warmth.

  “Why weren’t the fire alarms working?” I said, emotion rushing to the surface. “The sprinkler system should have engaged when the smoke came into contact with the sensors. Hasn’t it been serviced? I will call someone to come and fix it first thing in the morning. Thornfield will be closed if it’s inspected. I can’t believe—”

  Edward grasped my shoulders and shook me. “Jane, stop.”

  “I agreed to it, but it bothers me still,” I muttered.

  “Jane, are you ill?”

  I shook my head, alarmed at the words my addled mind had blurted in my fear.

  “I must go,” I murmured.

  “You would leave me?” he asked, his brow darkening.

  Outside, the sky was turning gray, and my gaze was drawn to the lightening horizon. Soon, Thornfield would be alive as its staff rose and prepared for the day ahead. If I remained, I would be caught in the halls, and in my current state of dress, it would be suspicious, indeed.

  “I’m cold,” I replied.

  “Jane… Stay a moment. I have the pleasure of owing you my life.”

  A strange energy like none I’d ever heard before was in his voice, and when I returned my gaze to his, he was alight with another kind of fire. It danced across me, and the wool of his jumper scratched against my skin as I shivered.

  Sighing, he drew me close, wrapping his arms around me. My cheek settled against his chest, my ear over his heart that was thrumming a wild beat. It calmed me, and soon, I was putty in his hands.

  “It’s a curious thing, is it not?” Edward murmured into my hair.

  “What, sir?”

  He paused a moment, the sound of birds singing at the rising sun flowing through the open window. “You and I.”

  I pulled in a deep breath, his scent tinged with the reminder of what had transpired that night. Smoke.

  “I would’ve had you by now,” he went on, lost in deep thought. “But I find myself caring more for…” He sighed. “Standing here like this feels just as satisfying. What curse have you spun over me, Jane Doe?”

  A curse? What could he mean by it?

  I stood with him just so and allowed him to take comfort in our nearness. I was glad he was unharmed, but something wasn’t right, and I feared to ask more.

  “Curse?” I inquired, my heart spinning. “I would think it more of an awakening.”

  Edward tensed, then his embrace deepened.

  What convoluted punishment was this? Where two lovers balance the magical strangeness of here and what may. Haunting one another with words and endearing glances, double meanings and misadventures only the aroused eye could see. The tether that forced two souls together—the rope that binds—constantly pulled asunder by outside forces.

  All you have to do is reach out and tug, Jane Doe. Wrap your scarred hands around the line, and pull with all your might.

  “I must go,” I murmured.

  “So you will leave me?”

  I nodded and drew away from him, but he couldn’t let me go. Not straight away.

  “Then let me taste your lips,” he whispered. “One thing before you take your leave, spirit.”

  Raising my hands, I cupped his face, stroking my thumbs back and forth over his skin. He leaned down, and closing his eyes, took my mouth with his. All at once, I felt my desire grow at his touch and wished I could stay and never leave his embrace, but it wasn’t to be.

  My kiss was the balm that soothed his ragged soul. I could feel it in his desperate touch and taste it upon his tongue. He was reluctant to let me go, but let me go he did.

  “Goodnight,” he whispered as we parted.

  “I think it’s more like good morning,” I replied with a tiny flicker of a smile.

  He smiled, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. “As always, you are right.”

  Returning to my room, I sat on the edge of my bed and peered through the curtains. Watching the sunrise, I buried deeper into Edward’s jumper and replayed the strange evening over and over in my head. Fire, passion, it was all a queer tale among the drama of the past weeks. I couldn’t make sense of it.

  I remained by the window until the full morning had dawned, casting new light over Thornfield. When the hour crept toward seven, I undressed for my shower and folded the jumper. I slid it underneath my pillow to join the library key, another treasure to add to my collection.

  Then I washed away all trace of what had been borne in the night and prepared for the day.

  18

  Word of the fire in Edward’s room was kept so quiet it was as if it hadn’t happened at all.

  No one spoke of it or hinted they knew of the chaos, not even Alice. It went like this for two days, and as my anxiousness grew, so did my annoyance at the mysterious Grace Poole and the feeling I was being kept in the dark about all the goings-on at Thornfield.

  I spent this time apart from Edward, but not for want of separation on my behalf. He didn’t call for me once, and his playful side was all but gone. He didn’t capture me in the middle of my duties and hide me behind a curtain so we could kiss like teenagers. He didn’t tempt fate by stealing touches under the noses of others. He didn’t call me to the study to indulge in his special brand of euphoria. He didn’t do anything.

  It was troubling, and I began to doubt he wanted me at all.

  Then there was the matter of the fire. Such an event could have had disastrous consequences, yet I was forbidden to talk about it. His reasoning was apt given the circumstances, but not to mention it to Alice? Madness.

  I was in the garden when he finally came to me.

  The day was bright, the sun shining high in the sky and warming my shoulders as I sat on a bench deep in the greenery. My lunch had been devoured, and I was determined to spend the rest of my break in complete silence, but still, my thoughts rambled.

  The crunch of gravel under a heavy foot drew my attention down the path, and I stilled as Edward emerged. I felt the rope that bound our spirits together spring taut as he approached, and I straightened up, my gaze clinging to his movements. He seemed grave, his brooding presence drawing light from the surrounding garden.

  Something was bothering him, but there always was.

  He stood before me, neither speaking nor moving to sit.

  Little sparrows flittered through the trees, landing on the side of the fountain, splashing and dipping their beaks into the water. Birdcalls echoed from the forest past the lawn, and the muted sounds of the goings-on at the hotel behind us echoed through the stillness.

  An insect flew past my eye, and as I shooed it away with my hand, the movement brought Edward to life.

  “Will you walk with me, Jane?”

  I nodded. “If you desire it.”

  He turned as I rose and led me down the path away from the house and toward the little forest. It was a secluded place and was rarely occupied by humans, so I thought nothing of his choice considering our entanglement.

  “Has there been any word on the fire?” I asked as we approached the tree line.

  “It was a fault with the electric blanket,” Edward explained. “I had maintenance look at it, and they confirmed my suspicions.”

  “But what of the sounds I heard?” I inquired. “Grace Poole…”

  “Alice tells me she is want to wander the halls at night. She is an insomniac, the staff tells me, and is well known to be up at all hours.”

  “I’m not convinced,” I said, my bones still chilled by the strange trail I’d been led on through Thornfield. “Edward, if someone intends you harm…”

  “I am well and safe, Jane.” Lifting his eye to the facade, he cast a glare over Thornfi
eld. I’d never seen him so angry before, which was a feat considering his temper.

  “You don’t like Thornfield?” I asked.

  “It holds many things I wish to escape,” he replied. “Many things bind me to this place I have no care for.”

  “I see.”

  “I must not include you among it,” he went on. “You have been the light in the dark.”

  “Though what we are must be kept secret?”

  “I would tell you it all, Jane, but I cannot put you in that position. You have a mind for secrets, yet I cannot allow it.” He hesitated as if he was deliberating telling me more of what troubled him, then he stilled. “The air is sweeter out here, yes?”

  We’d found our way into the forest now. The air was denser here and much cooler. Leaf litter crunched underfoot, the scent of earth and greenery thick on the air. It was a magical place, and I fancied that if I closed my eyes, we might be on another planet entirely.

  Here, we were entirely alone.

  “If you don’t like it, why do you return?” I asked, not willing to let him change the subject yet again.

  For all the things I knew about him, there were a hundred I didn’t. I didn’t know if his mother and father were still alive or where they were, I didn’t know what happened to his brother who’d passed away, I didn’t know what kind of business he owned, I didn’t know where he went when he wasn’t at Thornfield. His constant evasion was wearing away at my very being. I wanted to connect with him so much it hurt.

  “It’s my family’s ancestral home,” he said simply. “It is my duty to maintain it.”

  “And that’s why you keep it up just enough that is doesn’t fall entirely into disrepair?” I glanced over my shoulder, but the house was hidden from view. “It could be a grand destination with a little more work.”

  “I don’t want to talk about Thornfield,” he murmured, a strange look passing through his eyes.