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

by Luccia Gray

  Minutes later we were ushered into a small, cosy room at the back of the inn. “How kind of you to see us at such short notice, Mr. Raven.”

  “The pleasure is mine, madam. Please, sit down. Perhaps your valet will wait outside.”

  “He certainly will not!”

  “As you please.”

  I sat down next to Mr. Briggs and Michael stood behind my armchair, facing Mr. Raven.

  “Now that Mr. Rochester is deceased, I will be taking over the management of the estate until my son is thirty years old. I will be responsible for your tenancy agreements, is that not so Mr. Briggs?” The lawyer nodded nervously.

  “Mrs. Rochester, I trust our agreement will continue as usual.”

  “Better than usual, Mr. Raven. I am in a position to offer you a ninety-nine year renewable leasehold on this property for you and your descendants.”

  “That is very generous, Mrs. Rochester.”

  “The rent will be ten percent lower than the current rate and it will not be raised in twenty years. Can you write that down Mr. Briggs?”

  “Indeed I shall, if Mr. Raven is kind enough to bring a pen and some paper.”

  The host went out of the room and returned shortly with the required utensils. I spoke firmly. “Please start writing, Mr. Briggs. I want this contract signed today.”

  He put on his spectacles and carried out my orders obediently.

  “Mr. Raven, I would like to discuss a letter which belonged to the late Mr. Fairfax, my husband’s uncle, and was in your father’s possession for reasons unknown to me. As I believe you know, this letter is now in my possession. My employee, whom you ruthlessly attacked, has informed me that you are looking for the letter.”

  I took out the epistle and showed it to him. “Is this the document you were looking for?”

  He nodded, and I continued. “As you are aware, although the letter was in your father’s possession, it did not belong to him, nor does it belong to you. It was a private and personal letter addressed from my husband to his uncle. I would not like anyone else to read it or disseminate its contents, so I wish to burn it this very moment in your fireplace.”

  He hesitated and held my look defiantly. I felt Michael’s hands pressing the back of my chair. “Do you have any objections, Mr. Raven?”

  He spoke at last. “None, madam.”

  I turned to Michael, giving him the letter. “Michael, would you hand this letter to Mr. Raven and accompany him to the fireplace while he burns it, please?”

  “Gladly, madam.”

  I watched as both men approached the small fireplace, and sighed in relief as the flames destroyed the wicked words and sinful deeds described on the worn parchment.

  “I would like to discuss another important matter, Mr. Raven. I understand you have severely attacked one of my employees. Your behaviour has been intolerable.”

  “I apologise, madam. It was an accident, an unfortunate accident.”

  “Please bring a Bible.”

  He obeyed, taking a ragged copy from the bookshelf and placing it on the table.

  “You will swear that you will not spread any gossip related to the Rochester family, nor will you allow it in your inn. You will not attack any of my employees again. You will pay for Simon’s medical costs and he will be your guest at the inn whenever he chooses to come.”

  He put his hand on the book. “I swear, madam.”

  “And in case the Bible is not sufficient deterrent, allow me to further inform you that should there be a breach of contract, my reaction will be devastating. Do you understand?”

  “Madam, I would not dream of not keeping my promises to you.”

  “Mr. Briggs, have you written the leasehold contract for Mr. Raven according to the terms we have just discussed?”

  “Yes, madam. Here it is.”

  “I shall sign it now and it will take effect next month. Mr. Briggs will bring you a copy tomorrow.”

  He thanked me as we got up to leave. “Good day, Mr. Raven. It has been a pleasure doing business with you.”

  “Good day, Mrs. Rochester.”

  ***

  I helped my mistress into the carriage and jumped in beside her. As we rode back, she slipped her hand through my arm and her fingers restlessly squeezed my sleeve. “Are you well, Mrs. Rochester?”

  “My legs are trembling. I can’t believe I just did what I did,” she whispered. “I’m so cold.” She pulled me towards her, pushed her hand through my arm and into her muff.

  “How do you think that went, Michael?”

  “I think it went very well, Mrs. Rochester. You were most persuasive.”

  “I feel drained. It is so exhausting to play the villain.”

  “You are indeed a convincing villain, Mrs. Rochester.” She smiled at me, then turned to the lawyer sitting in front of us. “Mr. Briggs, you should know I will not tolerate any gossip in my employees. Everything that you have read, seen and heard this evening will remain undisclosed.”

  “My lips are sealed, Mrs. Rochester,” he answered stiffly, looking at me disapprovingly, but she did not ignore the gesture. She shouted his name angrily and he turned his eyes away from us towards the window. She moved even closer to me and so we had another witness to our complicity.

  When we arrived back at Eyre Hall, Briggs returned to the drawing room. Mrs. Rochester took off her bonnet and coat and asked me to bring some warm milk and brandy to her room. I went down to the kitchen. Simon’s hand had been bandaged by Dr. Carter. I told him that Mrs. Rochester herself had made Mr. Raven apologise and compensate him for his attack. It gave him some comfort, but he was in bed, looking poorly, although the doctor said he would be fit for work tomorrow.

  When I arrived at her door, it was open. I pushed it and saw her standing by her wash stand in her nightdress, washing her face. She turned when she heard me come in.

  “Please bolt the door and put the milk on the bedside table.”

  I obeyed. She dried her face and walked towards me.

  “Michael,” she whispered, taking my hands and pulling me towards her. “I am no longer a married woman.” Her look was alluring and her perfume overwhelming.

  “May I?” I implored, spellbound.

  “You may,” she whispered. “No man has ever been inside this chamber,” she continued appealingly, “so please tread softly.”

  I freed her hair and peeled off her layers gently and leisurely, cherishing each one of her sighs and smothering her moans fondly with kisses until my lips travelled down towards her treasure. I nuzzled my nose in her soft curls and heard her gasp rhythmically. Her scent was in my mind as my lips felt her softness swell and stiffen while she dug her fingers through my hair. At last she moistened and relaxed, and I knew it was time to fill her with my love. She was pliant and supple as I became her pulsating master for a few brief moments before dying in her mellow kernel. We finally lay limp and soothed, heart next to heart, our fluids mingling and our limbs entwined. We had been one. She was mine to worship and I was hers to be commanded. She smiled languorously and drifted into sleep almost immediately, so I was able to gaze at every curve of her anatomy and admire every pore on her skin at my leisure, before reluctantly pulling up the bedclothes and returning to my lodgings downstairs.

  My sister was waiting for me in the kitchen and sowed the seeds of doubt in my mind. I did not mind feeling like my mistress’ puppet. I was happy to serve her, but I was worried because our relationship had gone too far and there was no place for us to go. If we were discovered, it would be embarrassing for her and disgraceful for me. There were already too many people who guessed we were lovers: Susan, Mrs. Leah, Dr. Carter, Mr. Briggs and Adele. Too many people knew how we felt and more would know soon. I would lose my job, but what tormented me most was the possibility of not seeing her again.

  I would have been happy to gaze at her, caress her hand, smooth her hair and embrace her. I should not have taken our relationship any further. I had crossed a boundary into no man’s
land and there was no going back. I was terrified of the thought that there was no future for us. Had I condemned my love? Was I feeling guilty because my sister had guessed what happened, or because her husband was still lying in his bed in his chamber, just a few feet away from us while we made love? Had we made love or had she satiated her desire? Did she love me, or was I just a pastime? I slept restlessly, drifting in and out of nightmares until the light of dawn shook me back to reality.

  ***

  Chapter XXVI The Sin-Eater

  Michael came down to the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. When I asked him where he had been, he said he couldn’t tell me, but he embraced me and cried on my shoulder, as he used to do when he was a boy. I guessed where he had been as soon as I saw his guilt-ridden face, and I knew it was true when I smelt her perfume on my brother’s skin.

  “She will torment you, Michael. You are an amusement for her.”

  “She’s not like that, Susan.”

  “You don’t know what she’s like. You look at her as if she were a goddess and she’s not. She is the mistress of the house. She will never marry you. Is that what you want, to be used by her until she is bored or tired of you? It is not godly. You are acting in an unholy manner. Mother…”

  “Please don’t mention our mother. I can’t bear to think she would not approve.”

  “She would not, I am sure. You must either stop being her lapdog, or leave this household.”

  “You are wrong, Susan. She loves me and I love her.”

  “I wish I could make you see the truth. What are you going to do from now on? Steal in and out of her room every night she wants you to warm her bed?”

  “Susan, it’s not like that. You make it sound vulgar.”

  “Isn’t it? Tell me, how is it? She calls you and you follow. She bosses you around and controls your heart and soul. If you want a woman, Christy is your age and she’s mad about you. Beth is a few years younger and she thinks she loves you. She’s boasting that you kissed her on All Hallows Eve. What are you playing at?”

  “I tried to comfort her. Adele had slapped her and I kissed her cheek, but I don’t feel anything for Beth, except…I felt sorry for her.”

  “And Jenny?” He shook his head, as I screamed her name. “Don’t you dare deny it! I know what you were up to while you were teaching her to read.”

  “You don’t understand,” he stuttered helplessly.

  “What’s the matter with you men? Why do your brains soften every time you see a pretty woman?”

  “Mrs. Rochester is different. She is not like any other woman…”

  “I think she is! And you’re just like any other man, taken over by your animal impulses!”

  “You’re wrong, Susan. We love each other.”

  “When I come back from Italy, she will have cast you out in the gutter. She’s domineering, headstrong and selfish.”

  “You can’t mean that. She looked after us, after you too. She didn’t want you to spoil your hands cleaning. She has given you a good job. Don’t you remember when we were in the workhouse? What would have happened if we had stayed there?”

  “She should have remembered her place and yours. She will be your ruin. It’s not right, Michael. It can't happen.”

  “I hope you are wrong, sister, because I don’t think I could live without her.”

  He sunk into a chair, holding his head in his hands miserably. I put my arms around him. “Whatever happens, you can be sure I will never abandon you, Michael.”

  We embraced and I felt his spasms as he cried. I knew he would not be able to sleep. Neither could I. I heard him wrestling uneasily in his bed all night as I tried to find comfort in the Bible. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God…for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” I knew their relationship would never be blessed. He would never marry her. A governess could marry her master, as she once had, but a valet would never be allowed to marry his mistress. In any case, I knew I would always look after him, whatever happened. Together we would start a new life, if need be. This last thought consoled me as I finally drifted into sleep.

  The next morning we all had breakfast together in silence. Michael was quiet and glum. Beth sat next to him and tried unsuccessfully to cheer him up. Simon was a little recovered, but Mrs. Leah said he should stay in bed and rest for the morning. Christy cleaned and bandaged his wound, and gave him his medicine most kindly while he complained, but he put on his uniform and refused to stay in bed. Cook was busy arguing with the butcher at the back door while Mrs. Leah gave the newly employed servants instructions for the morning’s work. The school was closed in mourning, so after breakfast, I went up to stand by the door inside the hall while the footman accompanied the mutes outside on the doorstep.

  It was early yet, so few people had arrived and those that had were solemnly chatting in the entrance while I took their coats, bonnets, hats and umbrellas into the dining room. As I returned into the hall, the heavy front door screeched eerily and a gush of chilled fog came flowing into the hallway. A pounding thump resounded and suddenly out of the dense cloud emerged a faint, dark shadow which gradually solidified into a human shape, while a breath of frosty wind poured in and enwrapped those of us who were standing in the hallway.

  “Mr. Rochester has sent for me.”

  His grating voice echoed the words ominously. I heard some frightful cries around me. Some people ran away into the adjacent rooms, swearing they had heard him say the words three times. Others said he was death, who had come to visit the just dead, and if anyone looked at his eyes they would be taken, too. Everyone disappeared. I stood alone with him. His glazed eyes stared at the only person who had remained. Nailed to the ground, my back had stiffened like a stick. I felt my jaw drop as he added in a low frosty voice, “I have a message for Mrs. Rochester.”

  Someone shouted from inside a room, “No! He has come to take her with him.”

  I plucked up the courage to approach him and speak. “I’m afraid Mrs. Rochester cannot see you, sir, but I will take your name, if you please, to inform her of your visit.”

  His frozen features set on my face and I noticed his eyes were red, all red, and his lips mauve. The rest of his face was a cemented gravestone carved with long creases down his flat cheeks, which looked as sharp as flint. His towering black figure was like an unearthly leviathan. My legs were shaking and I would have run away had I not decided I had to protect Mrs. Rochester from the omen of death.

  Disquieting words rang out of his lips. “I am the Sin-eater. I have come to bestow the wisdom of my ancestors upon the cadaver that is laid in this house, so that he may not become an undead.”

  I was speechless, motionless and breathless as he continued with his foreboding address. “Time is short. His evil deeds have chained him to this world to roam and torment the living until the Last Judgment. I must see him today, or he will never rest and his soul will wander in anguish around this house and his loved ones.”

  Who was this unearthly monster? What did he want? What could I alone do to fend him off? His threats persisted. “I must see Mr. Rochester immediately, or leave his soul to roam in this house until the Day of Judgment.”

  I forced myself to breathe in and managed to raise my right hand up to my neck and clutch the tiny cross hanging from a gold chain, the only possession I owned, and mustered all my strength to reply feebly, “Please leave, sir.”

  Miraculously, he walked backwards towards the door, gradually devoured by the persistent fog that had accompanied him like an entourage.

  “Stop, sir!” I turned to see Simon’s distraught face run up from behind me. I had not seen him during the episode. Someone must have run downstairs and informed him of what was happening.

  “Please, wait. I will inform Mrs. Rochester of your presence. Your name, please sir?”

  “Mr. Isac das Junot, fr
om the Netherlands.”

  The figure became larger again, as it walked forward, appearing even taller than before. I noticed he wore no hat and his slimy jet black hair was pressed down with a wide middle parting and tied back into a short greasy pigtail.

  “Please wait here in the entrance.” The intruder nodded, as Simon continued, “You will be eating and drinking later, I expect.” The unearthly visitor smiled, showing a fistful of teeth which were as black as his hair.

  He looked down at Simon’s bandaged hand and spoke again. “You have lost two fingers, but found two loyal friends for life. The loss will be compensated.”

  I turned away from the monster and asked Simon if he had lost his brains. How could the mistress see such a frightful being? He answered that he knew what he was doing, because it was a necessary procedure. His father had told him about sin-eaters. They ate the sins of the dead, so they could enter the Kingdom of Heaven guiltless. I told him he was mad and that it was an unchristian thing to do. I was sure the bishop would not approve and neither would Michael or Mrs. Leah. He ignored me and went upstairs to inform Mrs. Rochester.

  I was alone with the apparition once more. I had recoiled to the wall by the stairs to the kitchen, in case I needed to flee swiftly. He did not move, but seized my eyes with his stare. I could not look away! He was peering into my heart. I felt an icy shiver enter my soul and gasped for air. He moved close to me and whispered in my ear, “Fear me not. I have not come to take you, yet. Fear not your future. You will travel to a warm distant land, where you will find sweet love and bitter sorrow.” Then he moved away back to the entrance. I could see the heads of the other visitors peeping out of the drawing room with terrified expressions.

  Too many minutes later, Simon walked down with Michael. I rushed to my brother, embracing him with all my strength. He kissed my forehead and told me not to worry because everything would be all right. I relaxed because I believed him. Michael always knew what to do and had protected me from all evil. He had once even killed a man to protect me from his lecherous claws.