Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy

by Luccia Gray

  “You know Michael and I love you more than anyone in the world, don’t you, Helen?” She smiled and nodded.

  I was still holding Michael’s left arm as we went up the steps. He squeezed my hand and asked me if I was all right. I was having difficulty walking up the steps because my legs were weak after the long drive and I felt a weight in my head. I told him I was very tired.

  “We’ll rest until tomorrow, no dinner or exhausting conversation tonight. We’ll have a bath. I have some oils for your feet and legs.”

  It was so easy to love Michael when he looked after me as if I were the queen, and to think that they wanted to keep him away from me. I looked up at the tower and the bedroom I had slept in for over fifteen years. I shivered and hoped we could have our old room in the new wing as Annette had promised.

  I felt Michael stiffen at the sight of Fred opening the front door.

  “Pleased to see you Mrs. Ma…”

  Michael interrupted him. “Mr. and Mrs. Kirkpatrick, Fred. Which are our rooms? We’re tired. We’ll have dinner upstairs.”

  “I have instructions to show you to your rooms in the new wing.”

  Michael pushed past him inside the house. “No need to show us. We know where our rooms are. Bring up our luggage. It’s in the carriage.”

  We walked towards the main staircase. “Jane, I’ll carry you, there are too many stairs.”

  “I’m all right, darling. You must be tired too.”

  The drawing room door opened and a pram emerged. Seconds later, Susan appeared pushing the handlebar with Dante at her side. They stopped when they saw us. Michael cringed again. He looked away, stooped to lift me in his arms and strode up the stairs.

  I put my arms around his neck and whispered, “Michael, please speak to your sister. She’ll be upset. You have a nephew. Let’s forget what happened, darling.”

  He pressed me closer and kissed the top of my head. “You and Helen are my only family from now on, Jane. I have no sister and no nephew.”

  I understood why Michael felt anger towards his sister. I was sure she thought she was helping her brother by contacting my son when we were outlaws. In any case, her son wasn’t to blame, but I was too tired to argue.

  Helen slept in the adjacent room and I let Michael pamper me with massaging oils and whispered loving endearments. I had become used to the slow and careful way he made love to me, which made me feel so cherished. He had been especially gentle since he had returned from Eyre Hall with Helen, and today he had been so tender and caring that I dissolved into his desire and fell asleep in his arms, while we were still one.

  We were fast asleep when we heard a knock on the door. It was midnight, but Annette said she would like us to go down to the library to sign the papers Mr. Smythe had prepared, because there would be no time to do so tomorrow before the wedding. We did so reluctantly. I convinced Michael I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

  We walked into the library holding hands and instinctively turned to the fireplace. Our rug was still there. Michael kissed me and whispered in my ear, “I love you, Mrs. Kirkpatrick.”

  Mr. Smythe was overjoyed to see me. Michael smiled as our solemn accountant hugged me and joked, saying Smythe was the only man he would allow to hug me so enthusiastically in his presence.

  “I have told my grandchildren about our confrontation with the Caribbean pirate many times. I shall never forget that fateful day. Congratulations, Mr. Kirkpatrick, your wife is the bravest, cleverest, and most beautiful lady I have ever met. You will do well to look after her. May I compliment you, madam, you look better than ever.”

  Michael laughed and shook his hand. “My wife is my most valued treasure, Mr. Smythe.”

  John, who had been observing, sat grimly behind the desk I had so often used, his face tight and his jaw clenched. He didn’t look like a man who was about to marry the woman he loved. Annette smiled by his side and motioned us to sit on the chairs on the opposite side of the table.

  My son handed me a piece of paper. “Mr. Smythe thinks this is a fair price.” He handed me a cheque. I read the amount and nodded. Then I showed it to Michael. He said nothing, but squeezed my arm.

  “It’s a fair amount, John. I accept it.”

  “In exchange for Eyre Hall and the Rochester Estate from this moment?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  My son looked back at me for a long time. I wasn’t sure if his look denoted anger or surprise. It was much less than the value of the house, but it was enough to buy our part of Manderley, thanks to Mr. de Winter’s generous offer, and there was also enough for Michael’s business plans. I held his stare and smiled. There was still some more negotiation to carry out.

  “I’d like you to continue sending Adele a monthly allowance,” I said.

  “I think her wedding settlement was generous enough. Mr. Greenwood should look after her now.”

  “John, your father looked took care of Adele all his life, as if she were his daughter, and so did I. I’m sure he would have wanted her to maintain a personal allowance from the Rochester Estate.”

  John glared at me. Michael squeezed my hand and glared back at my son, moving his shoulders forward, warning him not to be disrespectful to me.

  Mr. Smythe broke the tense moment. “I didn’t have the pleasure of meeting your father, Mr. Rochester, but I’m sure your mother knew his wishes better than anyone.” John hit the table and stood. I wondered if he was going to let his temper ruin our agreement.

  Mr. Smythe spoke quickly. “Perhaps in the autumn, when the accounts have been balanced, we can negotiate a suitable allowance for Mrs. Greenwood. What do you say, Mr. Rochester?”

  Annette touched his arm gently. “Please, John. Mr. Greenwood is not a rich man.”

  He shook his head in defeat. “Very well,” he said.

  Annette reached out her hand and drew him back to his chair.

  “Will you keep the staff?” I asked.

  “Leah, Cook, and Joseph are still here. They can remain if they wish, although we may have to renegotiate their salaries and conditions. The rest left when you did.”

  “I had an agreement with Mr. Raven and Harry’s father, Dr. Carter, regarding their lease. It was negotiated by Mr. Briggs.”

  “I have been informed, Mother. I always wondered if there were any more secrets. So, it was not only my father who covered up…”

  Michael stood. “I would be careful how you address my wife, Mr. Rochester.” My son also stood and Michael continued, leaning towards him. “Unless you’d like to be a bruised groom.”

  Mr. Smythe coughed. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. The agreement is almost signed.” He lowered his hands, inviting them to be seated. “Let us let bygones be bygones. The new owner must naturally respect the signed leasehold. In any case, Dr. Carter has left Ferndean and agreed to an annulment of his father’s contract, and Mr. Raven has agreed to renegotiate his annual rent.”

  I turned to Annette. “I was wondering if you would continue to see to it that the parish schools and the church are well-equipped and the staff paid.”

  Annette was about to reply when John raised his hand. “We’ll see about that when we balance the accounts, not before. The estate is a mess, thanks to…”

  Michael stood and held out his hand to me. “Jane’s tired. It’s been a very long journey.” I rose and he turned to Mr. Smythe. “Is there anything Jane should sign?”

  He opened his briefcase and placed some papers on the desk. “Would you like some time to read the documents, Mrs. Kirkpatrick?”

  I took the quill he offered and sat down to sign the document. “Of course not, Mr. Smythe. I trust you completely.” I turned to my son. “John, please listen to Mr. Smythe’s advice. He is an admirable accountant and an honest person.”

  My son pursed his lips in reply and asked me if I wanted anything in the house. I looked at Michael and smiled. “The rug by the fireplace. We’d like to take it back to Cornwall, if you don’t mind.”
/>   John looked at the rug first, and then at us and clenched his fists. “Of course not.” He ground his jaw. “Anything else?”

  His eyes were black and there were dark shadows below. I wondered why he was so unhappy. Was it because I was holding Michael’s hand? Or because he hadn’t managed to keep us apart or make me come back to Eyre Hall and fulfil the role of disconsolate widow to his father? Whatever it was, I didn’t care anymore. I squeezed Michael’s hand. We had done it. We could start a new life away from Eyre Hall, at last.

  “Nothing else, thank you.”

  “Wouldn’t you like any of your jewellery, Mother?”

  “No, I’d like Annette to have it all.”

  “Thank you, Jane,” said Annette. “But when Helen is older, she’s welcome to choose some of the jewels for herself.”

  “Thank you, Annette. I’ll let her know you made such a generous offer.”

  “What about any of the paintings, Mother? You were very fond of the Gainsborough in the dining room.”

  I shook my head and smiled. “They would look out of place in Primrose Cottage…” I turned to Michael and smiled. And Manderley has plenty of paintings, I thought, but I didn’t say the words because I didn’t want anyone else to know we would be moving yet.

  I pulled Michael’s hand and we both stood and wished everyone goodnight.

  The following morning we went down to the servants’ quarters to greet the staff. Leah, Cook and Joseph cried when they hugged me, saying how much they missed my presence at Eyre Hall. I told them a little about Cornwall and wished them luck, because I would not be returning to Eyre Hall for a long time. I did not wish to say never, as it sounded like a deathly parting.

  Then we went for a walk to the stream. We sat by the bench where we had kissed so many times while listening to the birds and the rippling water. The dogs walked with us, wagging their tails and running after the sticks Helen threw them.

  “How strange I feel, Michael. I thought I might be upset, but I’m so sure I won’t miss anything at Eyre Hall that I’m feeling very happy.”

  Finally, we walked the mile to the church. Mr. Woods, who looked as if he should be retiring, officiated at the marriage ceremony. The church was decorated elaborately with wreaths and potted palms along both aisles. John and Annette walked into the church on a carpet of blossoms while the church bells pealed.

  Annette was a beautiful bride. Her headdress had sprays of lilies-of-the-valley and wreaths of white forget-me-nots and her black hair was twisted into a thick plait.

  When they walked out after the ceremony, the guests threw rice and grain as husband and wife walked towards the wedding carriage, which was drawn by four white horses.

  We left straight after the ceremony. Our carriage was waiting with our luggage. Susan followed us back to the house and tried to speak to Michael, but he ignored her, and she accused me of poisoning him against her. Michael helped me into the carriage and I watched him speaking to her. They had moved away, so I didn’t hear what he said, but I saw her crying and then running away. I begged him to make amends with his sister, but he reminded me he would not allow anyone to be disrespectful to me. I didn’t argue because I was too happy to spoil the moment, but I hoped I would be able to change his mind once we were back home. I had little sympathy for Susan’s behaviour, but she was Michael’s only relative and I would do my best to ensure that they were reconciled.

  As our carriage drove away, black clouds cloaked the sky like a dome, and a storm broke out, hurling shafts of lightning and deafening claps of thunder like cannonballs in a war. I thought of the guests and the fine food laid out in the gardens. The marquees would be drenched and destroyed by the sudden fury of nature. I shivered, hoping it wasn’t an omen. Eyre Hall had witnessed too much unhappiness over the last six months. I rested my head on Michael’s shoulder and closed my eyes, relieved that we were leaving Eyre Hall and going to our new home at last.

  Michael knew I hated storms, so he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and whispered, “We’re driving away from the storm, look.” He pointed to the sky ahead. “The storm is clearing.”

  ***

  Chapter XXVI – Susan’s Inferno

  I never thought I’d lose my brother to that lustful woman. I should have realised her witchcraft had enraptured him. I hated her so much that given the chance I’d plan her death myself. She had no right to take Michael away from me. Now he even refused to speak to me. I apologised for informing John behind his back. In hindsight, perhaps I should have written to Michael first, and tried to convince him of his folly, but it wouldn’t have worked. He would do anything to have her. I never thought he was so greedy and inconsiderate, while I was ruined and alone.

  I had come to visit Adele. I needed her help. The butcher and the baker had to be paid, and I needed to buy clothes for William and the new baby. Dante had no idea about household management and he wouldn’t listen when I told him we were in dire straits. I had begged him to speak to his father because we needed a higher allowance, but he refused. He said I should ‘make do’ and ‘be thrifty’, but he had no idea the sacrifices I was making. I had been darning, helping in the kitchen, even washing when our only maid was ill.

  I was sitting in Adele’s drawing room, in the hope that she would listen to my plight and help me out, but she was also unfeeling. She had obviously never wanted me to marry Dante. She always thought I was below his station, but he was not the great artist she thought he was. He was a struggling, and very poor painter, with a wife and almost two children to feed. I was bursting, tired, sick and desperate. Sometimes I wished I’d die in childbirth and everything would be over.

  Adele stared at me over her teacup. “You did wrong in sending that letter to John, Susan. You should have spoken to us first. We would have advised you about what to do.”

  “I thought John should know.”

  I had hoped he would have paid me generously for helping him find my brother and his mother, but at their wedding he dropped two coins in my hand. “Two guineas for your help,” he had said and turned his back on me.

  “You should have known that John wouldn’t listen to reason. If you had told us, we would have spoken to him. Our idea was to mediate between them and reach a compromise, not destroy the family. Their hostility has not been good for any of us.”

  “Well, they seem to have made up, at last, haven’t they? So no real harm was done. I can’t understand why everyone is so angry with me.”

  “You have no idea what happened, do you? Jane was locked and abused in a dreadful asylum, and the archbishop wreaked havoc at Eyre Hall, poisoning John and everyone around him with fear of hell and eternal damnation. Your brother would have been hanged, or at best deported, and Jane mistreated for the rest of her life in that dreadful place, while Eyre Hall fell to bits. We’d all be ruined. What did you think by writing that ridiculous letter to John?”

  “I wanted my brother to leave Jane. He doesn’t belong with her. You must know that as well as I do.”

  “My dear girl, Michael’s let himself be beaten, risked his life, and faced hanging to rescue her. He even turned every stone in London until he found Helen. He’ll rob, kill, or work his fingers to the knuckle, don’t you see? He’ll do anything to be with Jane. He’d even sign a pact with the devil if he had to.”

  “That’s sacrilegious. I can’t believe it. Their kind of love is unholy.”

  “It’s more an obsession than love, if you ask me, but nevertheless it’s there. He’ll have her or die, and whatever madness has taken over Michael has also taken over Jane.”

  “So, what can we do?”

  “Do? There’s nothing we can do. There’s no ungluing them, so we’ll have to work around them, which is what Annette has wisely persuaded John to do. John’s given his mother a fair sum of money in exchange for Eyre Hall and the estate.”

  “So, it was about money.”

  “My dear child. How did you expect them to live without money? And after all, Eyre Hal
l was Jane’s exclusively. She built it with her uncle’s inheritance, and Mr. Rochester bequeathed it to her. Jane also has shares in a winery and her books are all best sellers. I’ve heard your brother is taking over a fishing business. They’re both clever and hardworking, and they have plenty of friends in high places. I tell you, they’ll be rich again soon. I’ve even heard they’ve bought a mansion in Cornwall, which is even grander then Eyre Hall.”

  “I need a loan, Adele. I can’t cope on Mr. Greenwood’s allowance, and Dante is hardly earning any money.”

  Adele poured herself another cup of tea and offered me a cream scone while she spoke. “Dante has sold many paintings in the last Summer Exhibition. William has told me he’s doing very well.”

  She looked at me slyly. Did she think I was lying? Couldn’t she see that I needed money for basic supplies? What was Dante thinking telling his father he was selling? He hadn’t yet brought home a single shilling from a sale.

  “Perhaps he’s exaggerating to show off to his father. In any case, I haven’t seen a penny of it. He says he has to invest in canvasses, frames, paint and brushes, and that his paintings are very cheap, because he’s not yet famous enough.”

  “His father has been speaking to him about his expenses, but he won’t listen.” Adele paused to choose her words. “I presume he’s coming home late, perhaps sometimes not even until early morning. Am I right?”

  I had to nod. There was no point in keeping up the pretence.

  “Don’t you know he is spending most of his time and money in London clubs?”

  She was being spiteful, trying to make me jealous. “He’s making connections and trying to sell his paintings. He told me one of the clubs will be buying some of his paintings to display in the dining rooms.”