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

by Luccia Gray

  “Jane, what is the matter? Close the window, or you will catch your death of cold!”

  “Adele, I could not breathe. I needed some fresh air. I am not feeling well. I think I shall retire.”

  “Do you need Dr. Carter?”

  “No, I just need some peace and quiet.”

  “Jane, but everyone is waiting for you in the drawing room. They have come a long way for the funeral. You must make an effort and thank them for coming.”

  ***

  I returned to the drawing room without Jane. She had asked me to allow her some minutes of solitude before greeting the visitors. The food was laid out on the tables and the guests walked around eating and drinking, except the older ladies who sat on the couch. Michael came into the drawing room and busied himself with the fire. Captain Fitzjames, who had been conversing with his brother-in-law, Mr. Wharton, about the end of the war in America, approached him speaking loudly, so everyone could hear his words.

  “Your father was the bravest soldier in the Royal Navy. I would have given my right arm to have ten more like him.”

  “Thank you, sir, Captain Fitzjames.” Michael reddened and bowed.

  “Midshipman Kirkpatrick lost his right leg, developed gangrene and died after fighting bravely against the Russians off the coast of Odessa. He was given an honourable burial in the distant land.”

  John tapped his shoulder affectionately. “I had no idea, Michael. What an honourable death. You must be proud of your father.”

  “I am very proud of my father, but I also miss him. I was seven years old when he died.”

  Captain Fitzjames shook his head, “Such a pity. A great loss for all of us. Have you not thought of joining the Navy?”

  “No, sir.”

  Much as I wanted Michael to keep away from Jane, I did not want to see him in battle. “Captain Fitzjames, you will keep away from Michael,” I teased.

  John supported my plea adding, “I’m afraid he can’t leave. What would Mother do without him?”

  Thankfully Jane had not arrived yet and I added jokingly, “What would all of us at Eyre Hall do?”

  The captain ignored us and insisted, “What do you say, Michael? I could speak to Admiral Wellesley and you’d be at naval school in a couple of weeks.”

  “That’s a most generous offer,” said Mason. “One this young man should not reject.”

  “Pay no attention to him, Michael!” I cried.

  “Miss Adele, do not worry about Eyre Hall, there are plenty of young valets to be found in London,” Mason insisted and turned to Michael. “Well young man, can you reject such an opportunity to better your station in life?”

  All eyes were on Michael, whose nonchalant expression made it clear he was not impressed by the offer or by all the fuss. He replied calmly, “I’m afraid I must reject your generous offer, Captain Fitzjames, for a personal reason, sir.”

  “Personal? Your sister? Another woman?” enquired the Captain.

  He nodded. “Yes, a woman. When my father died, my mother made me promise never to join the Navy.”

  “Well, the conversation is over then,” said Diana, the captain’s wife.

  “Thank goodness for that,” added John.

  “Well, I tried.” The captain threw his arms into the air and shook his head in disagreement, as he looked at his wife.

  Jane walked in moments later, mingling politely and thanking all the guests for their attendance at the funeral. I heard Michael ask her if she would be returning to the library; she nodded and followed him out of the room. I wanted to stop her, but Mr. Greenwood was reading some of his late wife’s poems and I felt it would be rude to interrupt him and leave the room.

  ***

  I followed him into the library and sat down quite exhausted. “What is the matter, Michael?”

  “Mrs. Rochester, there is something I must speak to you about, because I would not like you to believe I have lied to you. I know how important it is for you to trust me. I have never lied to you and I would not like to start now.”

  I wanted to tell him that I was upset, exhausted, and that he should not vex me, but he looked so worried that instead I asked, “What is it that troubles you?”

  “I believe my sister has recommended a lady by the name of Jenny Rosset, and Mrs. Leah has informed us she is to be employed at Eyre Hall.”

  I watched him carefully as he spoke nervously, and confirmed the information. “Mrs. Rosset will visit the hall this afternoon and I may decide to employ her. As you know, she has two children to feed on her own.”

  His expression was one of confusion as I waited for him to continue.

  “Did Susan mention to you that we know Mrs. Rosset and her family?”

  “Yes, Susan has told me you are acquainted with her. Susan taught her children to read, because they had to work and could not attend Sunday school. If I employ her, the children will move in, too. The boy will start working with Simon and the little girl will go to school until she is twelve and then she will work here, too.”

  He moved about the room restlessly yet he did not speak, so I insisted, “What is it you would like to tell me, Michael?”

  “I taught Jenny how to read.”

  I was silent, waiting for him to continue. I suspected there was more.

  “May I speak freely, Mrs. Rochester?”

  “Of course. I prefer to hear the truth. Don’t lie to me, please.”

  “I...we have been intimate.”

  I gasped and he knelt down beside me taking my hand. “Mrs. Rochester, it was some time ago, before I declared my love to you, before I ever touched you.”

  “Do you love her, Michael?”

  “I never loved her, not then, and not now.”

  “Why then?”

  “I had no experience of women and I needed to be instructed.”

  I sighed with relief. “Would it be a problem for you, if she were to work here?”

  “No, of course not. She needs a proper job for her children. I promise I will never love any other woman, only you.”

  “That is a difficult promise to keep.”

  “It is an easy promise for me to keep.”

  “There is just one thing I’d like you to promise me, Michael.”

  “Anything.”

  “Promise me you will tell me when you stop loving me.”

  “That will never happen.”

  “Never is such a long time. Promise.”

  “I promise, if I ever stop loving you, I will tell you, but I also promise you that it will never happen.”

  I looked into his eyes and I knew he was telling me the truth. “I'm glad you told me. We both have a past. The past no longer interests me. We will make our future together.”

  “Will you tell me about Junot’s words now?”

  “Michael, I am afraid I have had an unexpected complication and bad news today. My mind is distracted with many unpleasant matters and I need some time to disentangle the mess. Please be patient for at least another day."

  I moved down and sat beside him on the floor. "Embrace me, Michael. I need your comfort."

  ***

  When Mr. Greenwood finished his wife’s poem, I returned to the library where I hoped to find Jane. I stood at the door, shocked at what I saw. Jane’s arms were around Michael, her eyes were closed and she was whispering in his ear and kissing him. I rushed in and slammed the door behind me, which made them move apart and look at me in astonishment.

  “Michael! How dare you! Get out at once!” I cried.

  “Adele, you will refrain from speaking to Michael in those terms.”

  “Jane, your house is full of guests, your husband has just been buried and you are in mourning. Have you lost your mind?”

  “Adele, I trust you will keep our secret for the time being. I think you already know what Michael and I feel for each other.”

  “It is unnatural! Impossible! You must stop!”

  “Adele. You will not speak to us in that manner. You will respect
our feelings, as we respect yours. Remember you are going to Italy with a man you have just met.”

  “But he is your valet, and he is your son’s age!”

  “We are all leaving Eyre Hall shortly. You are going to Venice with Susan and Mr. Greenwood, John is returning to Oxford, Mr. Mason is returning to Jamaica, Annette will be going to Belgium and Michael and I are going to London. Mr. Rochester has died, but for the rest of us, life must go on. You will not judge anyone’s behaviour, except your own.”

  Jane stood up and took Michael’s hand defiantly, as I left the room in a huff. She was playing a very dangerous game.

  ***

  Chapter XXX Lovers’ Parting

  Last night I dreamt I was in Coulibri again. It seemed to me I stood by the shackled gate leading up the dusty path to the sea-blue verandah, which embraced the house. There was a rocking chair still swaying to the memory of its last occupant. Was it my mother? I called her name. No one answered. I entered the house. It was unfurnished and uninhabited. Tethered curtains hung and blew over the empty windows. Splintered floorboards cracked under my cautious feet. It was empty, but not lifeless. I could see the shadow of my mother’s dress twist along the weathered walls. I heard her voice laugh, as she twirled to the music.

  “Come back!” she shouted. “Come back to Coulibri!” But Coulibri had disappeared long before she died. Long before I was born. There was no going back.

  I woke up to the rhythmic tapping of bare branches mercilessly beating my chamber wall. I lifted my eyelids warily. Where was I? The waning moon, magnified and distorted by the latticed window, shone on my face; the same ruler of the night, but a different place. The same lovers’ mirror, where I now saw his face reflected instead of the sea. The same bright colour, but a duller shine did I perceive in this cold distant land.

  Back home I could taste the moon, fresh like salt, yet gritty like sand. I often heard the moon whispering, like creaking bamboos. I remembered Mother Angela had told us it was very bad to sleep in the moonlight, when the moon is full, because madness could creep in and torment our souls. A cloud crept past and brought back the dark night. I felt safe again.

  I had only met my mother’s husband, her cruel husband, and my absent father, once. Our eyes had locked for a few brief seconds across a dining table, surrounded by dinner guests. I had only spoken one terrified sentence to him. And minutes later, he was gone. The man who had incarcerated my mother and estranged me was dead. Yet I did not understand why I should be sad. How could I feel anything after what he had done? But I did. Once more, I felt the burden of abandonment and loneliness.

  We paid our last respects by his corpse. I held his icy, stiff hand and watched my brother, his only sanctioned son, do the same, shedding silent tears and avoiding my gaze. Why? He had not spoken to me since the dinner party, when he had promised to invade my chamber once more that very night. The night our father died. Suddenly his look had become as aloof as his father’s. His eyes lost their sparkle and his contour sagged under the weight of the loss.

  I longed to hear his enticing words in my mind and feel his fingers around my waist, but he was silent and withdrawn and as cold as the ice on his causeway. His brow was rutted with the pain and anger of death. Throughout the prayers, he was silent. While the atrocious sin-eater performed his unholy ritual, he was silent. When the mourners expressed their condolences, he was silent.

  What would happen to me now? Would my stepmother honour her promises? Or would I be cast away, like an unwanted burden? Only Jane Eyre seemed to be in calm control of the situation, which did not surprise me. She supervised all the arrangements with cool efficiency, sliding from one room to the next, giving orders softly yet confidently. She dealt with the undertaker, the staff, the mourners and guests, paying attention to the smallest details, from the draped mirrors to the lemonade and the flowers. I had to admire her elegant command of the situation.

  Only once did I see her wane. After the sin-eater’s ghostly visit, she cried out her valet’s name and fainted. When I saw him carry her away, I understood the reason for her composure: she was in love with another man. I did not think it odd, or even wrong. It was a just chastisement for her husband’s crimes. However, I was surprised and shocked when my uncle told me he would be marrying her the following year, but he convinced me it would be advantageous to both of us and I was not in a position to argue.

  Everything changed at Eyre Hall after my father’s death. Faces became taught and grim. We all avoided each other’s eyes, keeping our sorrow to ourselves. Sadness was not to be shared. The house itself was in mourning, smothered by the putrid, sickly-sweet smell of death mingled with the scent of flowers and perfume. The incessant murmur of the mourners could be heard through the walls, galleries and staircases, and their shadows quivered on the ceilings, rehearsing their dance of death.

  My father’s death transformed John. He lost his good humour and his interest in me. He became taciturn and locked in his thoughts, avoiding me and the rest of the guests and refusing to greet the visitors, although he was obliged to accept condolences curtly. I had lost a friend, and spent most of my days alone in my room, or wandering around the grounds by myself.

  The funeral had passed and the mourners and guests had left. It was my last night at Eyre Hall, for the time being, and it was my last chance to say farewell to John. I did not want our parting to be cold or unfriendly. I needed a happy memory to pull me through the lonely year ahead. I wished he would write to me, and hoped we could be friends again when we returned to Eyre Hall. I tapped on his bedroom door.

  “John, are you there?”

  He did not reply, yet I knew he was inside, so I knocked again and spoke. “John, I wanted to say goodbye. I’m leaving England tomorrow.”

  He did not answer, so I returned to my room, sat on my bed, the bed where he had kissed me, and looked out across the fields, wondering when I would see him again. Minutes later I heard a knock on my door. I rushed to greet him. “Please, come in.”

  He made a negative gesture with his head from the doorway. “I was wondering if you would like to come for a walk with the dogs?”

  “Of course, let me get my cape and my bonnet.”

  We walked downstairs and into the garden in silence. I walked quietly by his side, wondering where he was taking me. “Are you all right, John?” He nodded.

  “Do you miss your father?” He nodded again.

  “Do you want to talk about your father, or how you feel?”

  “No.” He was looking at the ground, absently observing his boots crushing the damp grass. The dogs jumped along, carelessly sniffing the bushes and trees. I took his hand. It was limp and cool, but he did not pull it away.

  “I’m leaving Eyre Hall after lunch, today. I must return to college, although I have no wish to do so, but my mother insists.”

  “It is your final year. It would be a pity not to finish what you started.”

  “I do not like to think of my mother alone at Eyre Hall during the long winter. She will miss my father terribly.”

  “John, your mother is a very strong person. I’m sure she will manage.”

  “But she will be alone!” he insisted. “She has never been alone before. Never.”

  “I would offer to stay with her, but she was most insistent that I should go to finishing school this year. Adele has also offered to postpone her journey to Italy, but she will hear none of it.” I paused before continuing and squeezed his hand. “You know, I think she may want to be alone.”

  He looked at me for the first time inquisitively. “Why would she want to be alone? Has she told you something?”

  “Not exactly,” I started, “but she did say she wanted to write another novel. Perhaps she is looking forward to some peace and quiet. It has been a busy fortnight.”

  “I cannot imagine Eyre Hall, or my mother, without my father. It will be like a tree without branches, or a horse without its mane.”

  “She will recover, in time.” I tried t
o comfort him, although I knew she had recovered already. I had observed how the valet’s eyes followed her like a hawk all day, and the way she hazily searched for his gaze made it so evident. I could not understand how everybody in the hall had not noticed. She wanted to be alone with him. It was obvious.

  It started to rain more heavily and John suggested taking cover in the nearby stables. He pulled my hand and we ran in. The strength of the tug and the short run energised me. When we arrived, we laughed nervously and I put my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. He grimaced, pulled my arms down gently, and looked towards the haystack. “Let’s sit down.” I obeyed

  “Elizabeth and her father are not well. I’m afraid they are in bed with the flu. It is a shame you did not meet her. She is a wonderful person. Truly wonderful. She will be a good wife and mother; that is why my mother chose her for me. I cannot let my mother down, do you understand, Annette?” I nodded.

  “I cannot behave as my father did,” he continued. “I am no longer Master John. I am Mr. Rochester now. I will be the owner of the estate soon and I must behave honourably, as my mother would wish. I’m sorry I misled you when you first arrived. I am engaged, and we can only be friends, and family, of course. Nothing more. It was improper of me to make any other suggestions to you. Please accept my apologies.”

  My silence suppressed the turmoil and pain I was feeling. Needles pierced my eyes as I held back the tears. He misunderstood my feelings.

  “Please do not be angry with me, Annette.”

  I was not angry. I was distraught. He was my only friend at Eyre Hall, and I had fallen in love with him. I knew I would never love anyone else, but I also knew I could never tell him how I felt. Over the last few days I had convinced myself that, although Mr. Rochester had been married to my mother, he was not my father. Mrs. Rochester and my uncle were both lying to me for their own purposes. Mr. Rochester had abandoned my mother in the attic. He hated her. Why would he visit her and make love to her, especially when he had already met Jane Eyre? He was not my father. John and I were not related. We could be married, but of course, he was already engaged, and he could not break his promise. And I had also promised Mrs. Rochester I would pretend to be Mr. Rochester’s orphaned niece.