Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall (21 page)

“You are my sister and you knew it!” He glared
at her. “I can’t believe it!”

She held her hands out to him. “John, I
never believed Edward Rochester was my father.”

He looked at her hands and shook his
head. “But you thought he could be!”

She spoke softly moving her hands
towards his. “There’s a possibility, but it’s unlikely.”

He pushed her hands away. “You have
almost provoked me to commit incest! You are truly a witch!”

“Forgive me, John. I should have told
you, but…”

He put his hand to his forehead and
turned away from her. “Your mother was married to my father when you were born,
and you did not think to let me know!”

I stood behind him and rested my hand on
his shoulder. “It was not entirely Annette’s fault. Richard and I were also
responsible for keeping the secret from you. I didn’t want you to know because
I didn’t want you to discover your father’s wrong doings and despise him.”

He swung round to face me. “And who can
prove the child theft? Did you ever see the dead baby, Mother?

“I did not.”

“And you, Adele?”

She shook her head. “They told me that
she was a girl, and I heard her cry. They said she died shortly after birth,
but I never saw her. She was buried a few days later. It is true that Jane
almost lost her mind; she was convinced the baby was alive for months.” She
stared at me sadly. “She is obviously still convinced.”

“I do not believe any of it! It is
sacrilegious. If my father were alive, you would not dare bear false witness
against him.”

Adele touched my arm. “Jane, I had no
idea. I always thought it was strange that I did not see the baby. Still, I
find it difficult to believe Monsieur would do such a thing. Could we have the
grave exhumed? It is the only way to find out the truth.”

“I will speak to Mr. Woods at once,”
said John. “This madness must cease. What has happened to you since Father died,
Mother?”

“Your father was not a faithful husband.
His illness was syphilis, which was directly related to his constant disloyalty
and unfaithful conduct.”

“You are a liar! He died of consumption.
I have seen the death certificate.”

“I cannot force you to believe anything
I have said, but please reflect on it, John. I know it is hard to imagine your
father in a different light. It was hard for me, too. I found out about most of
these treacherous acts while he was on his deathbed. I tried to keep it all
from you, but there are too many lies. We need to face the truth and move on.”

We looked at each other in silence. I
sat on the couch and Adele and Annette did so beside me.

“May I leave, Mother, or is there
anything else?”

“Yes, there is one more thing.” I
inhaled, drawing strength to tell my son my plans for the future. “Michael has
proposed and I have accepted. We will be married next Christmas at Eyre Hall.”

John’s chest was heaving as he
approached me. “You are madder than Bertha Mason, madam. You cannot marry a
servant who is young enough to be your son. You will be the laughing stock of
the county. You cannot do this to the Rochester estate. I will speak to Mr.
Briggs. There must be a way to stop you ruining my father’s name and legacy. I
suppose the new wing is for you and your lover. Mother, look at yourself! You
are behaving disgracefully!”   

Annette hugged me. “Jane, I wish you
happiness with Michael. I am sure that he loves you. You will overcome all the
obstacles which come your way.”

“Thank you, Annette.” I looked at Adele
who was staring at me with pursed lips.

“Jane, you know what I think about
Michael. He’s an honest and faithful servant, but I do not consider he would
fit into your world as an equal.”

“But Adele, he is my equal. My life
means nothing to me without him. I deserve a small measure of happiness. When I
look back over my life, there are so many dark corners. I wonder if I was ever
truly happy for more than a short time during my honeymoon, twenty–one years
ago.”

“You will be happy, Jane,” said Annette.
“We are all entitled to our happiness, and so are you who does so much to help
so many people. We are fortunate to have you and be part of your extended
family.”

“Thank you Annette, and Adele.” I looked
at my son’s furious countenance, wondering if he would ever forgive me. “Shall
we have lunch?” I asked at last.

Adele spoke first. “I’m afraid I have
arranged to go shopping to Millcote with William, Susan, and Dante. We will
have some lunch there. Do you mind, Jane?”

“Not at all, my darling Adele. You must
have so many things to prepare for your journey to London.”

“Will you pay us a visit soon, in London,
Jane?”

“Of course I will. I have to visit my
editor and Mr. Dickens. I may visit you in February.”

“Please come too, Annette.”

Annette thanked her and they embraced. I
was glad that Adele and Annette were feeling like family, and I was pleased
that Susan and Dante’s wedding had not upset Mr. Greenwood as much as I had
expected. Of course I had almost doubled Adele’s dowry, and although I seriously
doubted his love for her, she seemed contented to be marrying him, at last. Their
initially fleeting and passionate romance had soon become a more conventional marriage
settlement.

   “I have one more question, Mother. Were
you in love with Michael while my father was alive?”

“I was alone, and Michael helped me. He
was a friend when your father was alive, nothing more.”

“Servants cannot be our friends, Mother.
You loved him when you were married to my father, admit it!”

“I was never disloyal or disrespectful
to your father, John, in spite of his lies and betrayals.”

“I don’t know you any more, Mother. I
will not be ridiculed like this. Father would not accept it.”

“Your father was not the person you
thought he was.”

“Neither are you, Mother.”

“I am sorry if I have let you down,
John.”

“You would have me marry Phoebe for
convenience, ignoring my wishes, yet you are set on marrying a servant turned petty
navy officer who is young enough to be your son!”

“You don’t understand.”

“Of course I do. You make the rules and
you bend the rules for yourself. Do not expect me for lunch; I have matters to
attend to.”

***

It had been a peculiar morning. John had
barged out of the room after our family reunion, and Adele had excused herself
saying she had to go shopping with Mr. Greenwood, Dante, and Susan. Michael had
not come for lunch, although I knew Jane was expecting him because she asked
Simon to lay a plate for him.

Jane was distracted as we moved to the
drawing room for tea, and when Nell came in to read, she hardly paid any
attention to her. I had planned to retire to my room to write a letter to
Mother Superior at Saint Mary’s, but I was also feeling uneasy, and thought it
best to stay with Jane. There was a disquieting silence in the house, like the contained
rage of the sea before a storm.

I moved away from the fireplace and sat
by the window watching snowflakes fly down and rest slowly on the trees, until
they were all lined with a delicate white frame. I had never seen snow before
coming to England, and it was a mesmerising and restful sight for my troubled
eyes.

John’s distorted face when Jane had told
him who my mother was and that we might share the same father, had been painful
to watch. He had to be told, yet I now understood why Jane did not want him to
know. He was devastated, having placed his father on a pedestal, and now he
hated me because I was not the person he had imagined, making me feel unclean
and cruel. Then, when Jane told us she had accepted Michael’s proposal, John
looked as if he would burst with wrath.

The unnerving silence in the drawing
room was interrupted by Simon’s knock on the door. “Miss Annette, you are
needed in the kitchen,” he said, far too breathlessly. I realised immediately
that something was wrong, and I sensed that John was involved.

“What is the matter in the kitchen,
Simon?” asked Jane.

Simon’s distressed glance prompted me to
speak. “I asked Cook to prepare a surprise cake for Adele. She probably wants
to show me.”

“Yes, Miss Annette, Cook’s worried it
might burn if you don’t come down right away.”

“Can I see it, too, Annette?” asked Nell
jumping up from her chair.

“No, Nell. It is a surprise for all of you.
Wait here with Jane.” I tried to force a smile before rushing out of the room.

I followed Simon who flew down the
stairs. “Miss Annette, Michael and Master John are fighting in the stables!”

“No! Michael will kill him! We must stop
them!”

“Michael ain’t fighting, Miss. Master
John will kill Michael more like.”

“Dear God! Hurry up, Simon!”

I threw open the kitchen door and rushed
towards the stables. My feet sunk into the thick snow, slowing me down as I cut
through the curtain of dense snowfall and finally pushed open the stable door. Michael
was on the floor, and blood was trickling from his face into the hay scattered
on the ground. John was on top of him, punching his side mercilessly. I told
Simon to get Dr. Carter and approached John, asking him to stop. When I tried
to pull him off, he elbowed me fiercely, hurling me against the stable wall.
When I screamed, Michael threw off his assailant and rushed to my aid.

“Are you all right, Annette?” he asked,
kneeling by my side and lifting me so I was sitting up against the wall. John’s
elbow had hit my eye and I put my hand to the back of my head, which had struck
the floor.

“My head,” I said “but Michael, look at
you. Why did you let him do it? Jane will be so upset.”

“This was a pub brawl. Do not tell Jane
who hit me.”

“Don’t touch her!” came John’s voice
from across the stable.

“A fine thing to say after you just struck
her. You’ll have to answer for that!”

“No, Michael,” I held his arm. “Please
don’t fight on my account. It was nothing. I don’t mind.”

“But I’m afraid I do, Annette,” he whispered
as he removed my hand from his arm gently and stood up to face John.

“A man who strikes a lady such as Miss
Mason is only half a man and needs to be taught a lesson.”

“Is she next on your list of conquests?”

Michael took two long strides and hit John’s
jaw so hard that he fell on the muddy floor with a loud thump.

“That is for Miss Mason.”

Seconds later Michael lifted John’s limp
body up and knocked him down again. “And this is for Jane!”

John fell and writhed on the floor.
Michael lifted him up again and held him against the wall. “You can hate me and
strike me for loving your mother, but don’t ever doubt that I love her, or even
suggest I would betray her or be unfaithful to her. Do you hear me?”

“You’re not good enough for her!” John
spat at him.

“I love her more than anyone will ever
love her. I worship her. Would you kill me for loving her? Would you?”

I approached them, put my hands on both
their shoulders, and pushed my forehead against theirs, so our three heads were
together. “Please stop, the two of you. You both love her, and she loves you, too.
Please stop fighting.”

John pushed away from the circle I had
forged and held my shoulders. “How can you turn against me? I loved you! You
are my flesh and blood!”

“She has agreed to marry him. You must
respect her decision, John.”   

“That’s preposterous!” He turned to
Michael. “You’re not one of us. It’s unnatural, and you’re young enough to be
her son!”

Michael stared back in silence, looking
defeated and downcast.

“Please go and wash up, both of you.”
They ignored my plea.

“I hate her for falling so low as to
give herself to you, a servant.”

“Hate me for loving her, but don’t hate
your mother. She loves you too much.”

“Not enough, it would seem, to consider
my feelings.”

“That is all she has ever done, consider
your feelings and pander to you. You have no idea what she’s sacrificed and put
up with to protect you and safeguard your happiness.”

“That was her duty as my mother!” he
cried. “I’ll not thank her for that, and I’ll not watch her marry the likes of
you and live with you in my house, in my father’s house. Damn you. Damn you to
hell!”

“You don’t mean that, John,” I said,
approaching him.

“I am leaving. I shall return on my thirtieth
birthday to claim what is rightfully mine and throw you both out of Eyre Hall
and the Rochester Estate.”

“John, please.” I took his hand in mine.
“You don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t mean that.”

“Wait and see for yourself,” he
threatened, pushing me away.

“You cannot always get your own way,
John. The Earth doesn’t revolve around your wishes.”

“I will never forgive her for this.
Never. I hate her!”

Michael moved forward and stood still,
arms at his side, head bent. “Strike me again. Strike me all you like, Master
John. I will not fight back or stop you, but do not leave your mother, or hate
her.”

John lifted his clenched fist and hit
Michael’s motionless body. “Stop it, John!” I cried, and Jane and Nell burst
open the stable doors. Michael turned towards her and John seized a digging
fork, which he aimed at Michael’s face.

Nell screamed, and Jane’s voice roared
across the stable. “Put down that fork. Now!”

John turned and walked towards his
mother, fork in hand, and a look of madness in his eyes.

“Touch a single hair on your mother’s
head, Master John, and it will be the last thing you do.”

John dropped the fork, and Jane ran past
him to embrace Michael. “What has he done to you, my love?”

“It is nothing, Jane. I’m all right.”

She turned to her son furiously. “You
fool. He could have killed you, but you knew he would not hurt you because you
are my son. You coward! You are like…”

Michael put his fingers to her lips. “Jane,
please do not fight with your son.”

“I am sorry, Michael. I am so sorry.”

He smoothed her hair and whispered terms
of endearment as they melted into each other’s arms.  

“John, you cannot break them up. No one
can. You will have to accept it,” I said.

“Never,” was his last word as he stormed
out of the stable.

I hugged poor Nell who was crumpled on
the straw, crying like a baby.

“Nell darling, come with me. Let’s get
water, soap and bandages, for Michael.”

***

The snow had stopped its onslaught, but
the sky was so dark it could have been midnight instead of three o’clock in the
afternoon. I was reading an article in The Lancet in my study when Simon
interrupted breathlessly and insisted I was needed at Eyre Hall due to an
accident. When I arrived, I was shown to one of the guest rooms where Michael
lay on the bed in a deplorable condition. Mrs. Mason and Nell were standing by
his side, wiping his face with a sponge.

“Good grief! What happened to you, Lieutenant?”

“I had an accident,” he replied as Mrs.
Mason moved away to the window, shoulders hunched and lips pursed, holding back
the tears. Although it looked suspiciously like a pub brawl, I smelt no alcohol
on his breath.

“Let me have a look at you,” I said as I
scanned the cuts and bruises on his face and tried to imagine what else could
have happened. I opened his shirt and saw more blood and bruises. “Perhaps you
could wait outside, Nell, with Mrs. Mason, while I examine the patient.”

“Come here, Nell,” said Mrs. Mason as
she took the child’s hand. “We’ll turn our backs and wait while you see to Michael,
Dr. Carter.”

“Very well,” I said and pulled his shirt
away to examine the bruises on his side. I pressed my hands against his ribs.
“Nasty. Looks like one of your ribs is broken, Lieutenant.”

I heard Mrs. Mason gasp.

“It’s not painful, Jane,” Michael said.

“It will be, when you try to move,” I corrected.
“This is a serious injury. Let’s hope it hasn’t perforated your lungs.” I took
out my stethoscope and asked him to breathe in and out. By now, Mrs. Mason was crying
noticeably.

“Could you turn over to your side,
Lieutenant?” He moaned. “Just a moment, while I check your right lung.”

There were whip marks across his back.
“When did this happen?”

“On the frigate. There was a rebellion
on board. The insurgents tried to take over the ship. We stopped them, but not
before being whipped by the mutineers.”

Mrs. Mason had turned and was staring in
horror at his back.    

“Life at sea has its own rules, I
believe. I suppose the rebels were not successful?” I asked.

“We crushed the rebellion. The ringleaders
were found guilty of mutiny and hanged from the yard arm; the others were
flogged, and some survived.”

“Remind me not to get into an argument
with you, Lieutenant. I presume the man who did this to you is in the morgue.”

A tense silence was the only reply. I
dressed his wounds and told him to rest for a couple of days. “I’ll be back
tomorrow. Let me know at once if there is any internal bleeding. That’s always
a danger after such a beating.”

“How shall we know if there is any
internal bleeding, Dr. Carter?” asked Mrs. Mason.

“If there’s blood in his urine, or
stools, or severe vomiting with blood.”

She rushed to the bed, took his hand and
kissed it. Nell rushed to the other side of the bed and took his other hand.

“Looks like you will be well looked
after. No solid food for twenty–four hours, just in case. A good broth should
warm him up, and if there’s a fever, make a tea with the herbs I gave Cook last
week for her temperature.”

“Oh, Michael, why did you let him do
this to you? He could have killed you.”

“There is no pain, Jane. Do not worry
about me.”

 I coughed. “Is there another patient I
should tend to before I take my leave, madam?”

Mrs. Mason shook her head, but Nell
turned towards me. “Dr. Carter, Annette had blood on her face and her head
ached.”

“What? Someone has struck Miss Mason?”

Nobody answered, so I insisted, “Who has
dared to hit Miss Mason?”

“I’m afraid my son lost his mind when I
told him that I was going to marry Michael.”

“John? Mr. Rochester has injured Miss
Mason?”

More silence. “That’s unacceptable.”

There was a rap on the door and Annette appeared
with a smile on her face.

“Miss Annette, how are you?”

“Dr. Carter, how good of you to come so
quickly,” she said cheerfully as she entered the room.

“There’s no need to worry. As you can
see, I am perfectly well. I just have a bruised eyebrow and a slight headache.
How is Michael?”

“He’ll recover. Please let me have a
look at you, Miss Mason.”

I gestured for her to sit down and
searched for the bump on her head, running my fingers through her tresses. I
had never imagined touching her hair for the first time in search of a
concussion. It was firm and silky, and smelled of lemons and lavender, and I
was having difficulty keeping my mind on her injury.