Death of a Schoolgirl: The Jane Eyre Chronicles (42 page)

Caje secured a hearse for Belinda Connelly’s mortal remains. I comforted Emma as she and Caje and I watched quietly while they carried Cook from her tiny room. “She’s with her daughter now. I believe that with all my heart, even if she did kill herself,” I said.

Williams went and fetched Miss Miller, who had been staying at Lucy’s house while we carried out my plan. “How can I thank you enough, Miss Eyre—I mean, Mrs. Rochester?” she asked me. “You have saved me and the girls. However did you guess it was Cook?”

“There were so many signs,” I said. “Although most of them were inconspicuous. Cook lied about the scratches on her arms. She had access to laudanum and could easily dose the girls. When I found a piece of the teapot in Selina’s drawer, I realized the girl had taken Cook’s prize possession. Signora
Delgatto told me that Selina had pushed a governess down the well—and I started to wonder how Cook’s governess daughter died. Finally, there was powder sprinkled around Selina’s bed. At first, I assumed it to be the bath powder that she favored. But it never smelled of camellias. Cook was always baking. It would make sense that flour might have fallen from her person onto the floor in the Senior dormitory while she and Selina struggled.”

Lucy and Mr. Douglas volunteered to stay at the school until Mrs. Thurston awakened. “Someone needs to tell the superintendent what she missed and that Miss Miller has been exonerated,” Lucy said. “Bruce can do that while I help Miss Miller with the children. You go back to my house with your husband. I imagine you could use a good night’s sleep. Adèle will be so thrilled to hear she is going home with you!”

Lying in each other’s arms, Edward and I talked until the sun peeped around the gold velvet curtains in Lucy Brayton’s guest bedroom. My ribs still ached, but thanks to the wrapping, the pain was bearable.

“So you destroyed the letters you found, the ones that were from the King?”

“Yes. All but one,” I said and explained how I had been interrupted while burning them. “There was no good reason to keep the letters. Selina is dead. Her family has nothing to gain. Surely we can both spare some pity for a man forced to wed a woman under duress.”

“Indeed. I hated my father for his devotion to Thornfield above all else,” Edward said. “I mocked how he took his responsibilities as a country squire so seriously. But along the way here, I was forced to see my tenants in their own homes, struggling to go about their lives. They deserve better from me.”

“Mr. Carter also encouraged me to visit our local families. I did not realize the ways in which a squire’s wife could help. We’ve been so happy, just the two of us, and I pray we always
shall be…but it is wrong of us to enjoy the benefits of your position without earning them. I can learn to ride. I can take baskets around. Mr. Carter can teach me simple remedies. I can report back to you when a family needs help.”

“We can make the rounds together.” As he spoke, a new excitement tinged his words. How odd that we would come to this new place in our lives, that a threatening note would change so much for the better.

“Rebuilding Thornfield takes on a new meaning to me,” my husband said. “As the manor house for the countryside, it was the hub for all activities. I had forgotten how many found employment brewing beer for our parties, making washing balls for our laundry, weaving fabric for our linens, raising doves for our dovecote, and helping harvest and preserve the bounty from the fields and orchards. When I was young, my parents opened the place up for Christmas, gave parties after foxhunting, raised a cup at Michaelmas, and in lean times opened the house for merriment that fed the locals for weeks. I thought of those events as entertainment for my parents and older brother, Rowland. Now I understand a deeper purpose. They brought opportunities to our tenants. Individually, each merriment was a small thing, but taken together, they created a mechanism for keeping my father informed about how his tenants were doing and providing the locals with extra provisions and coinage. I believe it is my duty to reach out. I hope you will not find it too tedious.”

I squirmed a bit, thinking of how much I’d enjoyed our solitude. But how could I return to our old ways knowing that all around us our tenants suffered? This was a road I’d not intended to travel, but my feet were well along the path. I could not turn back. Instead, I would accept certain discomforts as rent paid for all the blessings come my way.

“I shall be proud to take on the role of lady of the manor. Adèle will enjoy welcoming visitors and having an audience. Eventually, we’ll find a new school for her. Perhaps one in
Millcote. But one that is close by so she can come home whenever she wants. I especially want her around for the holidays.”

“Adèle talks about Ned as if he were old enough to converse with her or offer an opinion on her choice of hair ribbons.” Edward chuckled. “Wait until she sees how dependent he is!”

I smiled, thinking of her lavish affection. She had thrown herself at me, clutched me tightly, and declared I was “
très courageuse
” for facing Selina’s killer. But when she learned I had climbed a tree, she stared at me in frank astonishment.

“Wasn’t that amusing, Edward? Did you hear what Adèle said? ‘Mademoiselle, you know how to climb trees?
C’est vraiment incroyable!
’”

“She is quite correct. I also find you incredible. Let me show you…”

Edward, Adèle, and I enjoyed Lucy’s hospitality for several more days. Most importantly, our hostess took the three of us to Hatchards, where we spent an entire morning selecting all sorts of wonderful books. At Edward’s insistence, Lucy took Adèle and me to her mantua-maker. “I know you like your wardrobe to be simple,” my friend said. “But simple and elegant are often one and the same. Let me show you.”

We also visited her milliner and ordered several new bonnets.

On our last day, Polly packed my things and Edward took off with John on errands concerning our solicitor. I sought out my “sister” Lucy. After dinner last evening, Lucy had presented Adèle with a lovely set of full-color paper dolls. My little French friend seated herself in the middle of the parlor and presided over an entire family of attractive flat people with elaborate wardrobes.

“When can we get
le chat
?” Adèle had asked me the same question every day since Cook died. Mrs. Thurston had
mentioned to Lucy that she didn’t want the animal, and once Adèle heard that
le chat
was destined to be “an orphan,” she insisted we take Mephisto home with us. Given the mice that shared Ferndean with us, I thought this rather a good idea.

“Soon,” I said. “Do you know where Mrs. Brayton is?”

“I believe she is in her bedroom,” Adèle said. “A letter came for her. All the way from India.”

I found Lucy with one hand on an open letter. In the other was a damp handkerchief. Her red and puffy eyes told me she’d been crying.

“Is your husband all right? Have you had news from him?”

A week ago, I would have held myself apart from her. But after all we’d been through together, that invisible wall had crumbled. Seeing her distress, I pulled an ottoman next to her chair so I could be by her side. Literally and figuratively. While she struggled to gather her thoughts, I took one of her hands in mine. The flesh was hot and damp to the touch.

“Lucy? Are you unwell? Do I need to call a surgeon?”

“No,” she said.

But I knew a remedy. I rang for Polly. “Gin, please. Two tumblers.”

After pouring us both a glass of courage, I begged Lucy to speak to me.

“Three years ago, my husband and I quarreled badly. That was when I quit India and came home to London; he stayed in Bombay. After my departure, a young widow attracted his attention, and…” She paused. “He sought comfort from her.”

“Oh, Lucy. Oh, dear friend. I am so, so sorry!” I threw my arms around her neck and held her in my embrace. Doing so, I inhaled the rich fragrance she favored, the sweet smell of gardenias.

“I have long since forgiven him, Jane. We both said horrid things to each other in our quarrel. I did not take into account the strains on him, and he did not appreciate my position, either. But Augie and I had made our amends to each other
even before I returned to nurse him through his malaria; it has left our marriage stronger.”

After a sip of gin, Lucy continued. “Meanwhile, the widow had returned to Brussels. But it appears that she was with child and later delivered of a son. She died of complications from childbirth two months ago.”

“And Augie’s infidelity still rankles? He must still have been in communication with her if he has heard of her death.”

“Yes and no. Her solicitor contacted Augie after she expired. The boy is definitely his.”

“How hurt you must have been! And how hard it must be for you to receive a reminder of his dalliance!”

“You think these are tears of sorrow? We still have much to learn about each other, don’t we? These are tears of joy. Joy! Augie has just written to ask me if I would be willing to raise the child. Of course I would! I shall write him back right away. Is that not wonderful? The child is currently with a nurse, so I shall send her funds so that they can travel to London. Oh, Jane, we shall have a son! God be praised, I am to be a mother!”

Ferndean Manor, Yorkshire

November 11, 1820

“Miss Jane! Master Edward! We have a visitor!”

Mrs. Fairfax’s voice carried to where Edward and I sat in the parlor, chatting with each other and enjoying a few rare moments of quiet. The household had hummed with activity since we had returned to Ferndean. I had just handed Ned to Hester after rocking him to sleep in my arms. How I enjoyed the solid feel of him and his sweet baby face. He had grown so much during the two weeks that Edward and I had been gone. And now, nearly another month later, our son had begun to master the art of crawling and had started to grab for anything that caught his fancy.

Since coming home with us, Adèle had blossomed. The French girl proved very helpful with the baby, especially in that interval when his wet nurse Hester had stayed home with her own daughter. Mr. Carter told us, “Her child’s better now, but it was a near thing. All the children in Hester’s family had been weakened by the croup. Your sending along fresh eggs and chickens to replenish their flock helped tremendously.”

Whenever I watched Adèle plant kisses on Ned, I thought
my heart might burst with happiness. After she coddled her new friend, whom she called “
mon ange
,” Adèle would return to teasing Mephisto with a feather tied to a string.

As Cook had explained, Mephisto loved children. It seemed he also loved me, transferring his affection from his previous owner and attaching himself to me so completely that Edward swore Mephisto had become my familiar. Each time he purred in my ear, I thought of Belinda and her daughter Larissa. I prayed they had been reunited. I was also moved to count my blessings, starting with the joy of motherhood.

I wasn’t surprised when our visitor turned out to be Bruce Douglas. Edward and I greeted him warmly.

“I have come to talk with you about the missing jewelry,” he said, after paying attention to Adèle and admiring Ned. “And a bit more afterward, if you can put me up for the night.”

I asked Adèle to go and help Mrs. Fairfax prepare refreshments.

“What have you learned?” Edward leaned forward and squinted up at Mr. Douglas. My husband was wearing a pair of spectacles with smoked lenses. I thought them rather dashing. His vision continued to improve as we administered hot compresses to his eye.

Mr. Douglas pulled up a garden chair. “May I review the facts of your case? I think you will come to the same conclusion that I have.”

I could not see the point, but I trusted Bruce Douglas, so I said, “Of course. Shall we wait until Mrs. Fairfax brings us tea?”

“Please. It was a long ride here.”

Serving tea would also give me a chance to prepare myself. I’d already determined the jewels gone forever, but hearing my suspicions confirmed would reopen a tender spot.

Mrs. Fairfax carried in the tray. After I poured, Mr. Douglas asked me to close my eyes and walk all of us through the events of the day I left for London. I left nothing out that I could recall. Mrs. Fairfax assisted me where I stumbled.

When I opened my eyes, Mr. Douglas shared what he’d learned. “That guard Glebe was a complete dolt, but his observations had merit. You were the only woman in the mail coach so commonly dressed. This raises the question, in a crowded area full of wealthy travelers, why target you?”

I thought this over. As did Edward and Mrs. Fairfax. But we had no answers.

“None of my contacts received any stolen goods that matched the description of your jewels. A professional might have taken the pieces to Amsterdam, where diamond specialists could have divided up the gems, recombined them, and sold them without fear they’d be recognized. But none of my sources has heard of such a happening. They have no reason to lie. That leads me to believe it was not a professional thief but an amateur who stole them from you, Mrs. Rochester.”

I realized where this was heading, and my stomach reacted by twisting into a knot. Mrs. Fairfax sat in silence, an expression of bewilderment on her face.