All Hallows at Eyre Hall: The Breathtaking Sequel to Jane Eyre (The Eyre Hall Trilogy Book 1)

by Luccia Gray

  I knew he liked reading, so I took him to the library and told him he could take and read any book he wanted, on condition that he made an effort to speak to everyone who crossed his path in the house. He looked confused, and said he would have nothing to say to any of them. He had obviously spent the past two years in the workhouse avoiding people, and rejecting any type of spoken or physical contact with anyone except his sister. He had retreated into a lonely shell, which he filled with books and his own reverie.

  I understood exactly how he felt. It is how I had felt after my miscarriages, and especially after my daughter was stillborn. He needed help, and I wanted to set free the soul behind the armour, so I told him to come to the library every day after lunch. I started instructing him about basic greetings: good morning, afternoon, evening and night with a smile to everyone he crossed during the day. Then I moved on to explain other polite forms of expression, enquiring about people’s health and well-being, or the weather. I informed him that, when asked a question, he should answer using sentences, not nodding or uttering monosyllabic words. I also told him he should go out on his free afternoon, because there were many things in life that were not learnt in books.

  I reminded him that there were wonderful and interesting people in the world, and he would learn many things from them. Months later he had improved greatly. He was brisk and friendly and often smiled. I felt proud, because I knew I had contributed to his change of character. I promoted him to my personal valet and Adele’s while Simon was to deal more especially with Edward, whose condition was worsening by days.

  Surprisingly, we had spoken very little of late, but he was always there, watching over me while I ate, poking the fire when I was at my desk, and doing all my errands uncomplainingly, however miserable the weather. He was sturdy and loyal, like the trees in the orchard. Life without him would be as if all the trees were cut down. Unbearable. I had to make sure he understood how dangerous the situation was for both of us, but how would I do it? I was too tired to think any more, so I rested my head on my arms. Eight words came to my mind, as I relinquished my reckless thoughts to Morpheus; Wild nights, wild nights, were I with thee...

  ***

  I returned very late that evening after delivering the message to Mr. Mason, and went into the drawing room to tell my mistress that his reply was affirmative. The candle on her desk was almost wasted, the oil lamps on the table had been extinguished, and only a few burning coals remained in the hearth. Her head lay on the desk. She was asleep, and my letter was folded in her hand. She must have read it! I dared not wake her, so I closed the door quietly and went up to Adele’s study, in the first floor tower, to tell her that my mistress should be taken up to bed.

  “Michael, I’m glad you came! I have just finished writing the letter to Mr. Greenwood. Can I read it to you?”

  “Miss Adele, I came to tell you that Mrs. Rochester has fallen asleep on her desk. Perhaps you should wake her up and bring her upstairs. It is very late.”

  “Indeed it is! You look pretty dishevelled and exhausted yourself! Where have you been?”

  “Mrs. Rochester sent me to the Arms on an errand.”

  “An errand? At this time of night?”

  “She said it was urgent.”

  “Who was the errand for?”

  “I don’t know if I’m authorised to say, Miss Adele.”

  “What do you mean, Michael?”

  “Mrs. Rochester was most upset when she found out I had helped you hide Mr. Greenwood’s letters…”

  “For God’s sake, Michael, don’t be ridiculous!”

  “She accused me of disloyalty, Miss Adele.”

  “She was probably jealous because you helped me. She wants you all to herself! Tell me about the errand!”

  “I’m afraid I can’t.”

  “Then I’ll have to tell Jane you read her letters and you take paper and ink from my desk…don’t deny it. I’ve seen you do it!”

  “Please, Miss Adele, don’t do that. Mrs. Rochester would be most upset.”

  “Don’t fret, Michael. Of course I won’t tell her!”

  “Thank you, Miss Adele.”

  “Michael, she’s way beyond your bounds. True, she’s been fond of you since she brought you here when you were a boy, but don’t be misled. I’m sure you’re clever enough not to confuse fondness or pity with…other feelings, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, Miss Adele.”

  “So, tell me about the errand.”

  “It was for Mr. Mason, the gentleman who called this morning.”

  “Mason! He’s no gentleman! What’s he doing here? Why didn’t Jane tell me about his visit? What does he want? Do you know, Michael?”

  “No, Miss Adele. I only know she received a note from him saying he would like to call this morning.”

  “And what did the note you took this afternoon say? Don’t tell me you didn’t read it, because I know you did!”

  “It was an invitation to dinner tomorrow, at Eyre Hall, and he agreed.”

  “I don’t believe it!”

  “And she asked him to stay here at Eyre Hall as her guest, with his niece.”

  “His niece!”

  “Is there a problem, Miss Adele?”

  “There’s a terrible problem, Michael. Terrible. He is Mr. Rochester’s first wife’s brother. He and his father tricked Mr. Rochester into marrying her for her dowry, but they didn’t tell him she was mad! He’s worse than the devil. Mon Dieu! And he’ll be staying under this roof with us! I can’t believe she has invited him to stay. I know nothing of a niece. He had no other siblings, as far as I know, except Bertha, Mr. Rochester’s first wife. Did you see her? How old is she?”

  “She is a young lady. I would say Susan’s age.”

  “This is terrible news, Michael, and with Monsieur Rochester on his deathbed. And John here for the weekend! I can’t believe she’s doing this…Michael, promise me, not a word to anyone, there will be enough gossip as it is.”

  “Of course. May I ask if there is anything I can do to help?”

  “Look after her, Michael. Look after her, but don’t create any problems. When I’m away and John’s away and Mr. Rochester is no longer with us, she will be quite alone. Stand by her.”

  “Michael? Adele?” We turned to see Jane standing at the threshold with an inquisitive look on her face.

  “Jane, I asked Michael to come up, because I want him to take my letter to the post office at the crack of dawn.” She handed me her letter.

  “Good God, Adele. Michael has been worked off his feet today and more is in store tomorrow. I cannot believe you want him to go to Millcote at dawn, just to take your letter...”

  “Don’t be angry, Jane, it is important for me.”

  “I don’t mind, Mrs. Rochester. I will be back before breakfast.”

  “Did you get an answer to my message, Michael?”

  “Yes, madam. Mr. Mason said he will dine tomorrow with his niece.”

  “Very well.” She sighed, as if the weight of Eyre Hall had fallen on her shoulders, and turned to Adele. “I need to speak to you.”

  I said good night, thinking my presence was no longer required and turned to leave.

  “Michael, please stay. You are the only person in this house, except Adele, I can trust. Please sit down, both of you.”

  I closed the door and dragged two more armchairs by the fireplace.

  “Terrible things have been made known to me today. I have learnt matters I would never have wanted to know. I wish I could ignore them, or fly away like a bird and forget about them. But I can’t. I have a son. He must never know what I am about to disclose to you both now. Adele, bring your Bible and lay it down on the table in front of us. Both of you put your right hand on it and swear that nothing I say will be spoken outside these walls.”

  We did as she asked.

  “Mr. Rochester was the love of my life. The man I would gladly have died for. I would have given him everything I had, including my heart and m
y soul. Perhaps that was my sin. I should never have loved him so completely and offered my soul, because that belongs only to our Lord. Everything I had and my very self was his. I use the past tense purposefully, because matters have changed, and for some time this love has waned like a worn-out candle. The reasons are private. Suffice it to let you know, he no longer merits the unlimited loyalty I offered him. I still owe him my wifely fidelity, but he has committed devilish deeds against me and other people, which I am not in a position to mention to you at this moment. I must ask you to take my word for it. I must also let you know, I have forgiven him absolutely, although it is not my place to absolve him. He must answer for his deeds, very soon, to heavenly justice. I know not where his soul will finally rest after death. The deeds he has committed are unjustifiable.

  “The gentleman who visited me this morning was Mr. Richard Mason, my husband’s brother-in-law by his first marriage. He has asked to be invited to stay at Eyre Hall with his niece, Annette Mason. I must let you know that this niece belongs to a non-existent sister. Richard had only one sister, step-sister, Bertha. This child was born to Bertha while she lived at Thornfield, while I was there, and you too, Adele.”

  “No!” Adele cried. “Ce n’est pas possible! I don’t believe it! She was an animal! A mad monster! How could she have a child! I never saw any child!”

  “The first Mrs. Rochester was insane. She was locked in the attic at Thornfield Hall for her own safety. Twenty-three years ago, she gave birth to a child.”

  “Then Monsieur is the father? Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!”

  “Mr. Rochester is responsible, because she was legally married to him and under his care when the child was born, however, he has promised me that he is not the father, and I believe him. Dr. Carter has confirmed the events. We do not know who violated the lunatic or how. Grace Poole, her carer, and Mrs. Fairfax, the housekeeper, are no longer with us.”

  “Why has Mr. Mason come? What does he want, Jane?”

  “Mr. Mason has demanded maintenance and a dowry for Miss Mason, who wishes to live in England. She is to be presented and treated as Miss Annette Mason, Mr. Rochester’s niece. She will be presented to society in order to provide her with a suitable husband. I have to agree…”

  “No!” Adele jumped up from the armchair in protest.

  “… as I did with you, my dearest Adele.”

  Jane got up and walked towards her with tears in her eyes as Adele spoke. “Jane, you are my guardian angel. You took me out of that horrible boarding school, where Monsieur sent me after you left, and you have looked after me ever since. You have been more than a mother to me, more than a sister, or a best friend, but I cannot accept her. Her mother was a lunatic, and we don’t even know who her father is!”

  “Adele, she will be coming here tomorrow. I ask you to accept her as I accepted you, with respect and humility. It is not Miss Mason’s fault that her mother was violated, or that her mother’s husband did not take care of his wife, as he should have. You must accept her, Adele, for me. Please, will you try?”

  “I will try and be polite for you, Jane. But this is not fair. You do not deserve this.”

  “Do not worry about me, Adele. God has always taken care of me. He has always helped me when I needed it, and this occasion will be no exception.”

  “Mrs. Rochester, there is something you should know,” I interrupted.

  “Tell me, Michael.”

  “When I went to the inn to take your message, Master John was there having dinner with Mr. Mason and his niece.”

  “How so? Does Mason know John?” Adele screamed in disbelief.

  “John told me he met Miss Mason and Mr. Mason quite by chance the day he arrived, but I did not know he would be seeing her again today. What were they discussing, Michael?”

  “They were eating roast pork and drinking mead. They seemed to be speaking amiably, but I did not hear their conversation.”

  “Strange things are happening and we do not know how things will turn out. We must be patient and vigilant. Sleep now, Adele. Tomorrow will be a long day. We must prepare for All Hallows.”

  ***

  I followed Michael down the gallery, as he lit the way with a candle. I observed him carefully for the first time and saw a man instead of the young boy I had brought home five years ago. His hands were strong and firm, his chest tall and slim, his shoulders wide, and his head stood firmly and proudly ahead of me.

  “Michael, please follow me to the library,” I whispered, and he nodded. On our way down the staircase we came across Leah on the landing, dressed in her nightgown with a candle in her hand and fury in her eyes.

  “What is happening tonight? The fires are lit and the candles are still burning. Michael, where have you been all evening?”

  “Leah, I’m sorry if we woke you. Michael has been to the inn to take a message. Adele was not well. She is agitated and we have been up to the tower to calm her down. Now I have asked Michael to light the fire in the library. I must write some letters at once. Please ask Simon to put out the fires and the candles.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Rochester.”

  “Has John returned?”

  “Not yet, madam.”

  “Please ask Simon to stay up until he comes in, in case he needs anything.”

  “Of course. Good night, Mrs. Rochester.”

  Leah looked enraged, but I had too many other things to think about. We walked into the library and I locked the door. The fire was burning and there were two candles on the mantelpiece.

  “Michael, please draw the curtains and kindle the fire.”

  I sat on the armchair and watched him, trying to remember the little boy I had seen at Diana’s house, but there was another person bending down over the hearth; a man I had just met, although I had known him for years. He finished and stood before me, looking very solemn.

  “Michael, whatever made you write that letter, today of all days?”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Rochester. I did not mean to upset you.”

  “You did not upset me. It is the most beautiful letter I have ever received, but it was very daring of you to write it. It could have got you into a great deal of trouble. You left it on my desk all day. Fortunately for you, Simon can hardly read, and Leah, Beth and Christy seldom enter the drawing room. I shudder to think of the consequences if it had been found, but I am more grateful for the feelings expressed therein than for any possessions displayed in this room.”

  He knelt down in front of my armchair and looked up at me nervously. I bent down and held his face in my hands. Such a beautiful, lost boy. “What am I going to do about you?”

  “You were so upset today, and when I saw you had fainted yesterday, you seemed so lonely and sad, I just wanted you to know that…that you are not alone.”

  “Thank you for that, but you may be mistaking your feelings, Michael. What you feel for me is gratitude and concern.”

  “Yes, I feel gratitude, concern, admiration, and…love.”

  His words brought a lump to my throat. Nobody had spoken to me so tenderly for such a long time. I suddenly felt warm, soft, safe and speechless. He looked up to my face, longingly. “May I touch you, mistress?”

  “We can’t do this, Michael. It is not right, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “May I touch your hair?” he whispered, probing into my eyes.

  “My hair?” I trembled.

  “When I first saw you, you were looking out of a window, and the sun’s rays were dancing on your hair. It was plaited, wound into a bun, and looked soft and shiny. I have looked at your hair every day since then, longing for the day I would be able to touch it.”

  Disturbingly, nothing else mattered. The most important thing in the world was to feel his fingers on my hair.

  “May I?” he insisted, and I felt myself relax and yield. I do not know what possessed me, but I heard myself say, “You may.” I closed my eyes as he swiped the tips of his fingers along the centre parting at the front of my head and stroked
my face.

  “May I take out your hair pins?” I nodded, and he moved to my side, still kneeling beside me. I felt his hands softly fondling my hair, pulling out the pins and combing my tresses with his fingers, until my head became light and my weighty thoughts evaporated, drifting far away. I realised how long I had lacked love and affection and how much I missed feeling desired. The dogs barking and the sound of my son’s voice shook me out of my reverie. When I opened my eyes he was so close to me, I could feel his heart beating. I tore myself away, out of his spell, and managed to speak. “Michael, we must be very careful. Nobody must know how you feel. I need you by my side, but you cannot stay if your feelings are noticed. Do you understand?”

  He nodded. I tied my hair in a knot at the nape of my neck and he handed me back my hair pins, which I reinserted clumsily, unable to remove my attention from his penetrating gaze. Drawn again like a magnet, I cupped his face in my hands, brushed my lips against his cheek and whispered in his ear. “Please, Michael, do not look at me like that when anyone else is watching.” I forced myself to break away and flew out of the room.

  ***

  The chamber I shared with Simon was silent and dark. The full moon was wrapped in a stormy cloud and the candles had been extinguished. Simon’s head was covered up to his eyes with the woollen blanket. I knelt by my bed and said my prayers before taking off my clothes and lying on the bed, feeling too warm and excited to sleep. Minutes later, a muffled voice emerged from underneath the heavy bedclothes.