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

by Luccia Gray

  You are right, Eyre Hall is a large, lonely house at the best of times, but even more so now that you have all gone. Aside from your time at finishing school (I can hardly believe that was sixteen years ago!), we’ve not been apart for more than a few days.

  I do miss you terribly, every day, but do not rush back, when you read this, for I would not be pleasant company now for anyone. Make sure you come back for summer, when I shall be completely recovered, and we can view the dense foliage and unclouded skies together. I am impatient to take long walks along the bubbling brooklet by the causeway, as we used to.

  I’m much recovered from the unfortunate incident, which overcame me shortly after you all left. Forgive me for not telling you about it at the time. I did not want to spoil your journey or worry you. It served its purpose, which was undoubtedly to punish and purge my soul, and bring me to my senses. Although I was bedridden for the greater part of November and all of December, I am now able to get up for a walk almost every day and write for a short while at my desk in the library. Do you remember little Nell? She has become my faithful companion. After her morning classes, she spends the afternoons reading to me, as she is the only person in this house who can do so fluently and has time to spare, except of course Leah, but she is busy enough, and her company for any long stretch of time would be most tedious. Christy’s shrill voice displeases me, and Beth stutters agonisingly. Simon cannot read, Cook, Joseph and Jenny can barely string a few words together, and of course I would not care for young Thomas to spend so many hours in my chamber.

  Nell reads exceptionally well, thanks to Susan, although I have no doubt she is a very talented child. Her soft voice is like music to my ears. She has already read the Book of Genesis, but instead of continuing with the Bible, I have decided something of lighter spirits would no doubt cheer me up. I selected George Eliot’s riveting novel Silas Marner, at Mr. Dickens’ recommendation. I had some concern that the contents might shock the little girl, but there is no point in protecting her from the real world. She will soon grow into a desirable woman, and I am educating her regarding the harshness of life. Tom takes her to school in Hay every morning with her packed lunch, because I insisted that she should not walk alone in such wintry weather, and he brings her back in the afternoon. We have tea together and she reads until I can hear, by the thickness and pastiness of her voice, that she is tired. I trust she will follow Susan’s footsteps and become a worthy teacher

  No doubt John has written to you from Oxford. He is busy preparing his final papers and very worried about Elizabeth. He must have written you about the vicious flu she caught this winter. It followed a previous malady, the one, which as you may remember, kept her away from Edward’s funeral, and has confined her to her bed since. Judge Harwood has written to inform me, and Adele, this is absolutely confidential, that whilst distraught, he is preparing for the prospect that the worst may occur. I cried all day when I read his letter, and was only comforted by the fact that he suggested his younger daughter, Phoebe, would be happy to replace Elizabeth in seeking John’s favours. I know you think she is too young and fickle, and you are right. But she is only sixteen, and no doubt she will soon bloom into a much desired and docile wife. Her father and her mother will see to that. Elizabeth was, I hate to use the past tense, but we must be ready for the worst, a wonderful girl, calm, intelligent, and demure. Her soft, glassy eyes were so restrained and attentive to those around her . . . Adele, I have had worrying dreams in the last nights and fear she may have already left us. My hand trembles and a solitary tear slides down my cheek as I write. It has landed on this page, blurring the date. I cannot continue. Elizabeth’s memory has made me too sorrowful to hold my pen, and I cannot hold back the shower of tears, which are now splashing my words...

  January 20th

  This afternoon I have been out for a walk with Nell. A tiny, obstinate ray of sun forced its way between some furious clouds, beaming on the marble bench in the flower garden, where we sat on our cushions (the crimson ones you embroidered so many years ago), listening to the breeze teasing the laurel leaves and watching the brave sparrows jump merrily from twig to twig, no doubt wondering what has happened to the flowers and longing for the spring to bring some colour to the bleak bushes. I almost imagined I could smell the bees making honey, but of course, that’s impossible. A curious robin, perched on one of the empty urns by the barren flower beds, eavesdropped as Nell read. He watched me listening so intently that I am sure his cheerful chirping was a secret message! If only I could decipher its meaning...

  You kindly ask about Annette. I’m so proud of your generosity in accepting her as part of our family at Eyre Hall, and I must inform you that I received a letter from her some fourteen days ago, in which she writes of her contentment at Miss Burney’s School for Ladies. She is expected to return after the summer, in time for my wedding to Mr. Mason. Adele, I must ask you to make an effort to tolerate Mr. Mason and understand my reasons for accepting his proposal, to be made public after Easter when he returns from his business, our business, in Jamaica. We shall be married on All Hallows Eve as planned. It will be a quiet affair. There will be no guests, just the family and Mr. Briggs, who will supervise our contract, which will be signed in the church before the event. I have already explained why this marriage, which is purely of convenience for both of us, must take place. I trust Mr. Mason will not spend much time at Eyre Hall, as I am sure he prefers his London club and his Jamaican plantation.

  I never imagined I would be trapped into a loveless marriage, but I assure you I have no choice. I have been immensely fortunate in love. I have been loved passionately and unconditionally, for a short time, on more than one occasion. However, I have also been betrayed, abandoned and broken-hearted. The last betrayal occurred so recently that I still feel numbed. I no longer have a heart. It has been destroyed and crumbled to pieces. I shall never find any type of contentment, other than seeing you, Annette and John happily married.

  Dearest Adele, I always imagined we would plan and organise your wedding together, but I fully understand Mr. Greenwood’s desire to have a quiet and intimate ceremony away from England and London society, in order not to offend his late wife’s family, although I do think he ought to think more about your feelings and less about theirs. I see you have discussed the possibility of marrying in Venice and I do not object. I agree that it is the only way your mother could attend, and I am glad she will be present at such a memorable occasion. On the other hand, I must remind you to wait until I receive a letter with his intentions before making any plans. I will wire you any necessary funds you may need for your own expenses, but Mr. Briggs has recommended that your dowry should not be made effective until your wedding, which should be held six months after your engagement. Although, as you point out, your mother’s failing health may require an earlier wedding, to which I will agree. I am sure Mr. Greenwood is aware of these events, so negotiations should not be protracted. Mr. Briggs will draw up a deed of settlement with provisions for you, too. I know you do not think these matters are important, but Adele, believe me, they are. Life in London is expensive. You will have your own household to manage, once you marry, and Mr. Greenwood is not a wealthy man.

  I have some more news on financial matters. I have decided I will be selling part of the estate. This may come as a surprise to you and John, but there is no alternative at the moment. Your wedding, dowry and settlement, as well as mine, including Mr. Mason’s expenses, will be very taxing. John and Annette will not be long in following suit. I have spent the last weeks bookkeeping with Mr. Cooper, and there is no other solution. Mr. Cooper has informed me that there is an American investor from Boston, Mr. Jackson, who wishes to buy land to build a paper mill in the vicinity. Apparently, he has made a fortune as a hatter in Boston, but he wishes to move to England with his wife, as his daughter, Emily, has married an English sugar importer from Liverpool, Mr. Harvey Lyttle. The land to be sold for the mill is mainly hunting ground, which is hardly bein
g put to use, and the mill will bring in a great deal of wealth and employment to the area. I have not met Mr. Jackson yet, but Cooper tells me he is willing to donate a percentage of his profits to fund more schools for children and to train teachers in the county. I hope to be receiving visitors soon and discuss matters further with him.

  I must finish this letter now, it is already far too long. I hope I have not bored you too much.

  Respectful remembrances to Mr. Greenwood, your mother and Susan, and please write to me soon. I do so cherish your letters.

  Yours affectionately,

  J.E.R.

  P. S. Finally, Adele, please make sure Susan knows I am well, in case she should be in touch with her brother, which I am sure she will be one way or another, either now or in the future. You may find my next request unnatural or even deceitful, so please forgive me for asking you to do something almost dishonest, but it would be a small comfort for my worried and weary soul. Worry not, I have understood the irrationality and folly of my infatuation. Nevertheless, I would find great comfort in the knowledge that he is well, wherever he may be. I would never ask you to read anyone’s mail, but dare I ask you to observe the postmarks on Susan’s correspondence and the return address? The purpose would be to comfort me in the knowledge of his whereabouts and good health. Adele, I trust you will ensure no other eyes ever read this letter and no ears ever hear of its contents.

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  The Eyre Hall Trilogy

  All Hallows at Eyre Hall is the first novel in the Eyre Hall Trilogy. If you enjoyed this first instalment, I hope you will enjoy the second volume, Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall, which will be published in 2015.

  Thank you for reading. Please consider posting a review on Amazon.co.uk, Amazon.com or Goodreads, and spreading the word on social media.

  About the Author

  Luccia Gray was born in London where she graduated in Modern Foreign Languages. She now lives in the south of Spain with her husband. She has three children and three grandchildren. When she's not reading or writing, she teaches English at an Adult Education Centre and lectures at the University of Córdoba.

  Visit her Blog Re-Reading Jane Eyre at lucciagray.com and Luccia Gray’s Facebook facebook.com/LucciaGray for updates on the The Eyre Hall Trilogy. You can also follow her on Twitter @LucciaGray, or contact her at luccia.gray@gmail.com.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my generous and irreplaceable Beta Readers: Elizabeth, Karen, Roberta, and Tina, without whose time, help, expertise, and encouragement, this novel would never have been published.

  Thank you David Pedrera for the original Cover Art you created, which has been my novel’s distinctive pictographic representation even before it was completed, and special thanks to Melody Simmons at http://ebookindiecovers.com for the unique new cover you designed in May, 2015.

  Thank you Alicia Carmical for proofreading an earlier version of this novel, and special thanks to Alison Williams for proofreading the final, print version.

  My gratitude to all my friends at Goodreads, especially Indie Author Central, The Source, Beta Reader Group, and Making Connections, and to my friends and followers on my Wordpress Blog, Rereading Jane Eyre, on Twitter and on Facebook, for their generous help and support.

  A very special mention to Sister Catherine, whose sweet and patient voice introduced me to the mysterious, delectable, and delightfully mischievous Victorians.

  My gratitude to my mother, Lucía, and my father, Eliseo, whose courage and determination, always inspired me.

  Thanks, too, to Amazon for making this venture possible.

  A big thank you to my family, friends and colleagues for believing in me.

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  Afterword

  I would never have felt the power of prose if I had not read Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, when I was an impressionable and romantic thirteen-year-old. On the other hand, I would never have fully appreciated Jane Eyre if I had not read Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea thirty years later, when I was an active and overrun mother of three teenage children. Finally, I would never have had the idea of writing this novel if I had not taught Postcolonial Literature in English to Undergraduates, whose lively discussions and thought-provoking questions ignited my overactive imagination. As a result, both novels merged in my mind to re-emerge by means of my audacious pen. Finally, my humble and sincere tribute to both literary giants, who contributed to make me, not only the writer I am, but also the person I have become.

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