Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy

by Luccia Gray

  “I’m afraid I have no recollection of your visit to Thornfield Hall, Mr. Poole.”

  “Well, it so happens I’m the superintendent at Grimsby Retreat, where you are at present in residence. Your stay here is in my hands. I’ll have you know I’m not a rancorous man at all. I’ll forget how you ignored me and demeaned my mother with your haughty airs, and I am prepared to make your stay here much more pleasant.”

  He held out his hand, but I recoiled. “Come, Mrs. Mason, don’t be shy. I mean you no harm. Let us take a walk. I want to show you the rest of the Retreat.”

  I had no choice. I was trapped between a thick wall and a grated window behind me, and a massive man with a repulsive grin before me. He crushed my hand in his fat, sweaty palm.

  “Your hand is cold, Jane. Come.” He pulled my hand towards the door. “You don’t mind if I call you Jane now, do you? I’ll show you to your new rooms. You’ll be much more comfortable there.”

  I had to run to keep up with his long strides as he dragged me across the main hall and up a winding staircase to another floor.

  “These are the best rooms, reserved for our special guests. I also live here with my wife. Fortunately, Mrs. Poole is unwell.” He smiled, revealing uneven grey teeth. “She won’t bother us.”

  In spite of the blazing flames and well-furnished room, I thought of hairy spiders crawling up my sleeves. I shivered and rubbed my arms.

  “You’re cold. Don’t stand in the doorway, Jane. Come inside. This will be your room from now on. I want you to write a list of the food you like to eat, and the clothes and other personal items you’d like to have.”

  “Why?” I whispered.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’ll look after you while you’re here and, in compensation, you’ll be my mistress.”

  I held my breath. “Why?” I repeated, trying to make sense of this bizarre situation.

  “Because I want you, and I am in a position to have you.”

  “I’d like to return to my room, please.” I tried to sound assertive, but my voice was unsteady.

  “There is no going back, I’m afraid. You will stay here and oblige me. You’ll find I’m easy to please.” He took my limp hand and pressed it to his mouth. The room swirled like a tornado, sucking me into its twisting eye.

  When I woke up I was in my new bed and the doctor was taking my pulse. “You must eat, Mrs. Mason, or you will make yourself ill. Do you want to be force fed?”

  He showed me a long tube and motioned it towards my mouth. I shook my head energetically.

  “Then you must eat everything on the tray before Mr. Poole returns. There is nothing else physically wrong with you.”

  The food on the tray, cheese, cold meat, and fruit, would have looked appealing in any other place, but my lips felt as if they were glued together. I managed to pull them apart to speak to the doctor.

  “Could I see my son, or Archbishop Templar, please?”

  “No visitors are allowed for the moment.”

  “When can I have visitors?”

  “Perhaps in the spring, when you’re feeling better.”

  I asked for a Bible and read the Gospel according to St. Mathew, which I had read so often with Helen, in the hope that it would give me the strength to endure Poole’s designs on me as our Lord had suffered on the cross. Why had I been forsaken?

  The Bible gave me little comfort. I cried for the injustice in my life and wished for a quick death, instead of the slow poisoning awaiting me. I remembered Michael’s words. “No one will keep us apart,” he had promised. I closed my eyes and recalled the joyful moments we had experienced a few months earlier.

  ****

  Chapter II - The Best of Times

  Michael had almost recovered from the wounds inflicted during his kidnapping, when we arrived back at Eyre Hall after our voyage from Jamaica in June, and he soon grew even stronger than he had been before. He ate voraciously and spent much of the day working on the estate, which had been much neglected during the previous months I had been away.

  We called Mr. Smythe, who had been managing matters during my absence. Michael and Smythe got on splendidly, especially after Smythe told him about the pirate’s visit. He said he had the greatest admiration for a lady who was able to negotiate and threaten a pirate, and travel to Jamaica, in order to recover her betrothed. Michael laughed and told him that, to his knowledge, I had used a stoker to great effect with several scoundrels.

  Smythe informed us that there was much to be improved on the Rochester Estate after my long absence. He was too far away in London to pay close attention to matters. John was in Boston, and in any case, he had never taken any interest in the running of the estate. Annette was doing an excellent job running Eyre Hall with Leah’s help, but she had no idea how to deal with the rest of the holdings.

  Smythe informed us the rents were too low and that the homes and farms needed repairs. He suggested we should invest in renovating the houses on the estate and make sure the farms were well-equipped, before increasing the rent. There were roofs to fix, fences to repair, and livestock and tenant farmers to deal with.

  Michael and I visited all the tenants, making sure their houses were safe, and we gave them all a month’s free rent as our engagement present. Smythe thought we were too generous, but I wanted to make sure everyone accepted Michael, and I knew their pockets were close to their hearts. We aimed to balance the accounts by negotiating an agreement to sell some more land, which was unproductive for the estate, to Mr. Jackson, who found it useful for his business interests.

  We visited Adele and Mr. Greenwood in London, after the harvest. They were getting along as well as could be expected. I think Adele would have liked to become more acquainted with London’s social life, but Mr. Greenwood was set in his ways. He had been a widower for some years before marrying Adele, and he was more interested in spending time at his clubs, than taking his wife to the theatre or soirées. Adele was thrilled to see us, and our visit gave her a perfect excuse to socialise. She accompanied us when we visited Mr. Dickens, and Mr. Wilkie Collins, who were kind enough to take us on inspiring riverside walks. We also saw the great Ellen Terry play ‘Diana’ in The Antipodes at the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, and we visited our magnificent British Museum.

  Susan was occupied with her baby boy, whom she called William after her father-in-law, while Dante was busy with his classes at the Royal Academy and preparing exhibitions. He seemed to be away from home too frequently, and I wondered if Susan was lonely. We took her and Dante out to lunch, and it saddened me that they were not as happy as I had expected. I hadn’t realised Susan’s character was bitter, and her temper so short. She seemed to spend more energy nagging than breathing. Dante was patient but aloof, and I wondered if they were as well suited as they had seemed last Christmas at Eyre Hall.

  We returned to Eyre Hall before All Hallows. The renovations were complete and we had already occupied our marital bedroom. I wanted our wedding to be much sooner, but the archbishop kept insisting we should wait for John. Then John wrote to tell me he wouldn’t return until the spring, so I finally insisted on Christmas Eve, against the archbishop’s opinion. He had been a friend of the family for many years, since Edward had been a young man, and he had been a great help to John since his days at Rugby, where he had been first his tutor, and later his headmaster, but I thought he was becoming too opinionated about our lives. I had told him, in no uncertain terms, that my marriage to Michael would no longer be postponed, and he reluctantly accepted the date I proposed.

  I considered myself fortunate, because Michael was a gentle and considerate lover. His hands and eyes were always searching for mine, when we were in company, and when we were alone, his lips caressed my skin so gently and fervently, that it was easy to melt under his touch. Being out of his sight for more than a few hours was like a torture. Sometimes I wondered if anyone should be allowed to be as happy as we were, while there was so much misery in the world.

  The memory of our l
ast minutes together, before my unjust confinement, filled my heart with warmth, which turned to devastation at the thought I might not see him again.

  Michael woke early, dressed and sat down on the bed. He took my face in his hands and brushed my lips with his. “You look beautiful this morning, Jane.’

  I threw my arms around his neck. “Don’t leave so soon. Come back to bed.”

  “Tonight, my love. I must leave now if I’m to return home before dinner.”

  “Stay. I’ll miss you.”

  “Don’t you want me to get our wedding licence?”

  I sat up. “I don’t understand why Archbishop Templar wants you to go personally. He could bring the licence himself. He spends so much time here; he’s even filled the wardrobe in the Green Room with all his clothes.”

  “You know why, Jane. He sent a message saying he was too busy to travel this week.”

  “He could send a messenger with the licence.”

  “He probably wants to make sure it arrives safely.”

  “Michael, it will be the first day we’re not together since I found you in that awful dungeon in Jamaica.”

  He pulled me closer, crushing me against his chest, and kissing my hair. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “I’m worried, Michael.”

  “Worried about what, my love?”

  “I’m worried about not seeing you again.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “Jane, we’ll be married in twenty days, and nothing will come between us ever again. On the twenty-fourth of December, you’ll be Mrs. Kirkpatrick.” He kissed me so passionately I thought I’d be able to persuade him to stay, but he broke the kiss and pulled away. “I must go.”

  “Don’t go today. Let’s both go tomorrow. I’ll go with you.”

  “The archbishop specifically asked me to go today, on my own.”

  “Why on your own? What’s he scheming?”

  “I have no idea. Perhaps he has a surprise present for you?”

  “He said he was against the marriage, when we asked him for a special licence just a few weeks ago.”

  “He didn’t say he was against the marriage. He asked us if we were sure and suggested we wait until the spring.”

  “I could tell he wasn’t pleased with our decision.”

  Michael sighed. “He’s obviously changed his mind.”

  “Don’t you remember how he wouldn’t even speak to you when we first arrived? He ignored you until I told him he would not be welcome at Eyre Hall if he couldn’t find it in his heart to treat you as my betrothed, and suddenly he behaves as if you’re his best friend.”

  Michael opened the closet, brought my shawl, and wrapped it around my shoulders. “You’ll catch cold, my love.” Then he moved back to the fireplace, kindling the fire and placing more logs. “That should keep you warm for a few hours. Stay in bed and read; you have Mr. Dickens’ Christmas edition of All The Year Round to look forward to. I’ll tell Beth to bring up your breakfast. Stay in bed until lunchtime.”

  He was standing by the door ready to leave, and I could tell he was just trying to distract me from my dark thoughts, but it wasn’t working. I was still uneasy.

  “Why is the archbishop so keen to see you on your own?”

  Michael threw his arms in the air. “He’s a clever man. He’s realised our marriage is inevitable and I suppose he’s decided he doesn’t want me as an enemy once we’re married.”

  “I don’t trust him, Michael.”

  “You worry too much. He’s probably decided it’s in his interest to be on our side.”

  “Let me go with you.”

  He smiled and came back to my side, and I was awarded another lingering kiss. When he tried to move away again, I held his hand. “I’m not sure I even deserve to be so happy, Michael. I cannot believe we’ve come this far. I’m afraid something will happen and spoil everything.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t trust the archbishop either, but do you think he’ll behave like a pirate and kidnap me?”

  “Don’t you dare mock me, Michael.” I dropped his hand and pushed him away. “Go. Do whatever you want. I don’t care what you do.”

  He stood up and sighed. “I never imagined our first disagreement would be about my trip to procure our wedding licence.”

  “I’ll be alone all day…”

  “You’ll be with Helen.”

  “Helen’s been invited to spend Sunday with Mr. Jackson’s granddaughters.”

  “Really? You didn’t tell me.”

  “I forgot.”

  “Tell her to stay. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

  “No, she doesn’t often get the chance to play with children her age. I don’t want to spoil her Sunday.”

  “And Annette?”

  “Annette is spending the weekend at Ferndean with Mrs. Carter.”

  “How is Harry’s mother?”

  “She’s worse, I’m afraid. Annette offered to look after her while Harry’s at the hospital.”

  “That’s a pity. Well, the servants will look after you if you need anything.”

  “Leah is in bed with flu, and I gave the rest of the staff Sunday afternoon off. There’s a carol singing contest in Hay, and Joseph’s taking them all in the large carriage.”

  “Well, Cook, Daisy and Christy will be downstairs for sure if you need anything. They never go out.”

  “They’ll be a great help if anything happens. Cook is as deaf as a post, Christy never leaves the servant’s quarters, and Daisy refuses to open the door or even come upstairs unless it’s after dark.”

  He laughed. “You’re right. It will be quiet at Eyre Hall today. You’ll have time to write to Mary, Diana, and Adele. You’ve been complaining of lack of time to do so for weeks.”

  “I had a nightmare last night, Michael.”

  “The dungeon again?”

  Michael returned to my side, swiped the tears sliding down my cheeks and kissed me softly. “Jane, it was just a dream. Harry said you might be having nightmares for months. Your nightmares aren’t real, Jane. They’re due to the shock of finding me in the dungeon.”

  “Yes, but this time it wasn’t only you; it was me who was chained and dying in a cell.”

  He wrapped his arms around me. “You know I’m going to make you the happiest woman in England for the rest of my life.”

  “So you keep telling me, but today you’re ignoring my wishes and leaving me all alone.”

  He kissed the top of my head and inhaled. “Your hair smells like lavender. I like it, and it’s softer than before, when you used the rose cream.”

  He pushed his fingers through my plaits and pulled my face up to his, piercing me with his darkened eyes. Then he brushed his lips across my cheeks and along my neck. “Delicious,” he whispered. “Will you be wearing your butterfly choker necklace when I come back?”

  “Yes.”

  He teased my earlobes. “And the matching silver earrings and hairpins?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the grey silk day dress?”

  “If you like.”

  “I’ll enjoy taking it all off as soon as I return. Would you like that?”

  I nodded, too mesmerised to utter a single syllable.

  He smiled, sliding his fingers along my neck. “Good. I’ll make your wait worthwhile. I promise.”

  His lips were on mine again, and I was sure I didn’t want to spend a single minute away from him. “Michael, please don’t leave me.”

  He sighed. “Very well, if it means so much to you, I’ll stay.” His lips continued to trace my shoulders and my arms with soft kisses. “We’ll both go tomorrow,” he said as he kissed my breasts. “I hope it doesn’t upset the grumpy archbishop and delay our wedding.”

  Michael made me feel treasured every minute I was by his side. I felt myself glow as he looked at me and trembled when he touched me. I was possessed by a euphoria I hadn’t felt for a long time.

  I wanted him to stay. I should never have
agreed to let him go, but I pushed my uneasiness away. “Very well. You had better go. I’d like to have the licence as soon as possible.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course. I’ll be all right. I just had a feeling…”

  “Jane, we’re safe in England, at Eyre Hall. No one can hurt us, and no one will keep us apart.”

  Those were the last words he said before closing the door. I’d had a premonition that something was going to happen, but I never imagined that I might not see him again.

  ****

  Chapter III – Betrayal

  The Rochester Estate, 4th December

  “Thank you, Annette. It is so kind of you to look after me while Harry’s working.”

  Mrs. Carter’s haggard face, heavy breathing and rumbling cough filled my heart with sorrow. I held her limp hand, and whispered words of encouragement, but her despairing sighs and the putrid smell rising from her bed reminded me that the end was creeping upon her like a thief in the night, and I was sorry that Harry would be completely alone in the world. He had asked me to marry him on several occasions, but I had declined. I was not in love with him, and had told him so, but he insisted that I would grow to love him. I couldn’t tell him the truth - that I still loved John, and I’d never marry anyone else.

  When the carriage from Eyre Hall arrived, I left a sombre Harry with his waning mother. Joseph’s hands trembled violently as he opened the carriage door, and he shook his head, saying, “Dear Lord, help us all.”

  I thought something might have happened to Cook, but he mumbled something about Michael and Jane. When I asked him what had occurred, he said he didn’t know, but that the archbishop had moved in and sent the rest of the servants away into the dead of night with an hour’s notice to pack their bags. He rubbed his nose and eyes with a grubby handkerchief. “He made us do it. We ain’t got nowhere to go.” I couldn’t make any sense of his incoherent words, so I braced myself to face whatever had happened at home during my absence.

  As we approached Eyre Hall, the new moon was absent from the pitch-dark night, and the building was eerily quiet, like a ghost ship in the black ocean.