Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall (4 page)

I sighed as I opened the next letter.

My Dearest Annette,

 Today I am feeling depressed.
Mother has written informing me that she has been to London and visited Judge Harwood.
My mother and the judge would be most pleased if I should court Phoebe,
Elizabeth’s younger sister. I would not court anyone except you, my love, and
especially not Phoebe who is too young, too fickle, and too vulgar by far to
ever be my wife, and far less mistress of Eyre Hall. When I politely explained
my position, Mother replied that Phoebe was only seventeen, so there would be a
long engagement, and we would have enough time to polish her into a suitable
wife.

I love my mother dearly, but
sometimes I do not understand her at all, especially since Father died and her
illness, she seems to have lost all feelings of love or tenderness. Life has
become a commercial transaction, and we are all her pawns. I wonder if Mr.
Briggs’s son–in–law and new associate, Mr. Smythe, has anything to do with this
new madness. He does seem to be a rather shrewd businessman.

I had never met Elizabeth, and I did not
know Phoebe, but it seemed that the marriage had indeed been arranged, and that
there was little John could do about it, except go against his mother’s wishes,
and I was convinced that was something he would never do. I wished Jane would
stop organising all our lives without taking heed of our feelings. I understood
that she meant well, but she was too manipulative, and too concerned with the
opinions of others instead of the feelings of those she loved, including her
own.  

I unfolded the next letter.

My Dearest Annette,

Mother has written to me about her
wedding. She told me you were kind enough to stand by her side throughout the
preparations and ceremony. Once more, I have no understanding as to why she
should wish to marry your uncle, but it pleases me that it keeps us closer
together. She has told me it is a marriage of convenience, and I dare not ask
her, but I cannot fathom what her convenience could be in marrying him. In any
case, it will not affect my position as sole heir to the Rochester estate.

It pleases me that mother is
growing fond of you; I must remind you that this was not the case at first. You
must understand that your presence reminded her of your aunt, my father’s first
unfortunate wife, and this distressed her greatly, but as you have seen, she is
a forgiving and loving person.

I wanted to attend the wedding,
just to see you again, but Mother insisted I should not be present. She wanted
a quiet, almost secret wedding. I would have loved to see you again, kiss your
eager lips and squeeze your slim waist. I will try to wait until you are ready,
but I warn you, I am not a patient man, and I am so in love with you, that the
next time we meet, I may not be so understanding. You haunt me and you will be
mine, Annette, because you already are mine.

I beg you to consider my petition.
I am in agony. I assure you I cannot wait much longer.

I closed the letter, wondering if I
would ever be safe again, alone with John. He was very bold and demanding, and
I was in love. It would be hard to resist his advances, so I had to make sure I
would not be alone with him, although that, too, would be difficult as none of
the others had arrived yet. My uncle was due in the next few days as were Adele,
Mr. Greenwood, and Dante.

I opened the last letter.

My Dearest Annette,        

I am distraught today. Adele has
written to tell me that she will be coming to Eyre Hall for Christmas with Mr.
Greenwood and his son Dante, because her fiancé is adamant that Dante should
marry you! I know my mother would never force you to marry anyone, but how dare
Adele interfere in your future! I hate Dante already, although Adele has
written pages of his virtues and abilities, and she would have me champion her
cause. He does seem an interesting fellow. He is an artist, a painter and sculptor,
who has acquired some fame in Italy, and is keen to make a name for himself in
London. It is out of the question. You cannot move to London. If you marry, it
must be someone local. I could not bear to have you far from Eyre Hall. In
fact, you must stay at Eyre Hall. Whoever I have to marry must accept the
arrangement. Both our spouses must accept that we can never be parted. I know
it sounds like madness, but no one would think it strange that cousins should
be so close, would they?

I can imagine your perplexed and
angry face as you read my lines, but you know I am right. Whatever we have to
do and whoever we have to marry, we will always love each other more than
anyone else will. Always. We must find a way to do our duty and not give up our
love.  

I was too enraged to think coherently. Adele
was organising my marriage to suit her needs. No doubt, my marriage to Dante
would secure her own marriage to the slippery Mr. Greenwood. On the other hand,
John was trying to find a way of securing my physical and emotional attachment
to him forever, without any hope of a future together as husband and wife. I
should be content to watch him marry and have children, and be as near and
available to him as possible. What a scandalous arrangement! How could I agree?
What could I hope for if I did not agree?

Beth interrupted my thoughts, asking me
to go down to the drawing room to see Jane. I composed myself and walked down
meekly as a lamb to the slaughter.

****

When I arrived, Jane was looking out of
the window and John was looking intently into the hearth. They both looked up
with concerned expressions as I entered. Was I the reason for their distress?

“Annette, I have received a letter from
my cousin Mrs. Fitzjames. She would like me to visit before Christmas. Would
you like to accompany me?”   

“Of course, Jane,” I replied. John shot
me a dejected glance.

“We’ll be leaving this afternoon. Will
you have enough time to prepare your luggage?” I nodded, and John jumped up
from his chair in protest.

“Couldn’t Nell go with you?”

“Nell’s a child, John. What good would
she do me? She would be a responsibility, not an asset.”

“I’ll be alone at Eyre Hall until you
come back, Mother. I didn’t come home for Christmas to be alone!”

“Don’t be dramatic, John. Adele will be
coming in a few days’ time, and I am sure you have friends you can visit. The
Jackson’s will be only too happy to see you, and Phoebe and Clarissa will be
arriving soon.”

“Clarissa is coming too? She is a child,
a pompous spoilt child! Will I have to entertain them both?”

 “I’m not sure what’s come over you
since you arrived, John, but whatever it is, you will compose yourself and
behave respectfully. The world does not revolve around you. You will consider and
provide for the well–being of the rest of the members of the household, and all
our guests, including Phoebe and her sister.”

His mood suddenly changed as he
approached his mother and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I’m sorry, Mother. You
are right, of course. I just didn’t want to be alone, that’s all.”

“Come with us if you like,” suggested
Jane as she stroked his unruly hair.

“No, thank you, Mother. You go with
Annette. I’ll keep myself busy until you return.”

Jane left to start her packing and John
approached me. “Say something, Annette,” he said, grabbing my hands and staring
into my eyes. “Anything.” I was silent but he insisted. “Please.”

“John, I will write you a letter before
I leave, and we can speak when I return.”

“Very well,” he said dryly and stormed
out of the room. I wondered just how demanding he could become if his mother
were not there to placate his impulsive character.

I could not imagine my life without him,
but I realised my life would not be mine to govern if I gave in to his wishes.
Was I destined to remain at his beck and call for the rest of my days? Would I
remain in the shadow of his wife and family, always present, albeit relegated
to the background, like one of his paintings or hunting trophies? Would I ever
have a life of my own? A family of my own? A house of my own? A man who loved
me over everything else?

I returned to my room to write my letter
and pack my case, trying to remember when I had ever made a decision regarding
where to go and what to do. Never, I concluded sorrowfully. I felt like a
feather flying to their whims.

***

The journey to Thorpe Hall, the home of Admiral
and Mrs. Fitzjames, was long and bumpy. Jane had insisted on accepting her
cousin’s invitation because she did not intend to prepare any big celebrations
for Christmas this year at Eyre Hall, and she would like to make sure she saw
one of her two only living relatives, apart from her son. She had asked me to
travel with her and I had obliged, glad to be away from John and think about
his passionate yet disturbing letters. 

“Thank you for accompanying me, Annette.
I did not care to make the journey alone. I tire easily.”

“Jane, I still can’t believe you were so
ill and never let us know. You should have told us you were unwell last winter.
I would have stayed with you, so would Adele. I am glad you are almost
recovered.”

“Nonsense, I was well looked after by
the young Dr. Carter, he’s an excellent doctor and a very good person; nothing
like his father, I might add. Anyway, you all had to get on with your own
lives, and I needed to be alone, for a time. You have been a wonderful
companion for me these past months, Annette. It is very generous of you to
spend time with a boring writer.”

“Not at all, Jane. I have learned a
great deal from you. I felt lonely in Belgium, and I found French hard to
master.”

“Now that the Christmas season is
approaching, life will be merrier for you at Eyre Hall, and although I do not
plan any big celebrations, you will no doubt be invited to many balls, and
Adele and Mr. Greenwood will be arriving soon. He would like you to meet his
son, Dante.”

“I will be glad to make his acquaintance
and see Adele and Mr. Greenwood again, but I am not prepared for marriage,
especially to a man I do not know.”

“There is no pressure on you, at all,
Annette. You do not have to marry, now or ever, if you do not wish, but I ask
you to be kind to young Dante Greenwood. I have heard he is a successful
painter, and an honest, intelligent young man. Give him the opportunity of
getting to know you, before you make any decisions.”

I nodded and smiled. She did not know
that John and I were in love and conspiring to be in each other’s company as
often as possible. She had spent most of the summer in her room, writing her novel,
or reading with Nell. She seemed to have lost all interest in anything that
happened around her at Eyre Hall.

It had been easy for John and me to
spend days on our own, getting to know each other, and falling in love. I was
more convinced now than ever that I could not marry John, so I would undoubtedly
remain single. Although Jane was becoming fond of me, her plans for John and me
did not include a marriage, and of course, there was the charade of our
supposed sibling relationship, which I had begun to seriously doubt. In any
case, she was determined to see John married to Phoebe, and she would almost
certainly get her own way. John would never reject any of his mother’s
requests.

She had asked me to call her Jane, just
a few weeks ago. She was changed. Much calmer, perhaps less bright and happy,
but somehow more contented, as if she had accepted her unhappy fate. I knew her
marriage to my uncle was one of pure convenience. She loved another man, whom
she could never marry. On the other hand, my uncle had confessed to me that he
had loved Jane since he had first met her at Thornfield Hall twenty–three years
ago. It surprised me that my uncle could love anyone for any length of time. He
had always had, still had, lovers, and had never shown any interest in marriage
or fathering children, until his disastrous financial situation brought him
back to the widowed and wealthy wife of his brother–in–law, Edward Rochester.

I had been surprised when he told me he
was marrying her, but even more surprised when he told me he planned to have an
heir with her, an heir who would inherit Eyre Hall and the Rochester Estate. I
knew she would never agree, and I was worried about John’s safety. My uncle was
a ruthless and ambitious man, of that I was sure.

As we stepped into the small country
house, the merry chatter and glow of the hearths welcomed us to a warm and
boisterous household. When we crossed the threshold, as we took off our
bonnets, mitts and coats, which we handed to the young maid, I was surprised to
hear the murmur and laughter of many voices in the dining room. I had supposed only
Diana and the admiral would accompany us.    

Diana hugged Jane enthusiastically. “I’m
so happy you have come sister, I was so worried about you, and, as we have
guests, I couldn’t manage a trip to Eyre Hall before Christmas.”

“Worry not, sister, I’m perfectly well
now, just somewhat tired after the long journey. I have spent too much time
alone at Eyre Hall this year.”  

Jane was an orphan with no family of her
own. Her cousins Diana, Mrs. Fitzjames, and Mary, Mrs. Wharton, were her only
relatives, so they enjoyed calling themselves sisters. Mary had recently moved
to Wales. Her husband, who was Welsh, had been offered a parsonage near his
hometown, which he wished to occupy. They had no children, but he claimed to
have many nieces and nephews in Wales. Jane was sorry to see her leave, as she
was not inclined to travel so far, although she had promised to do so in the
spring. 

“It’s wonderful to see you again,
Annette,” said her cousin as she hugged me.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs.
Fitzjames.”

“Please call me Diana.”

“Thank you, Diana,” I replied.

 “We have some guests, Jane. I think you
will be pleasantly surprised.”

Jane held my arm as we walked inside. Whoever
she had expected to see when she entered the dining room, she was helplessly
unprepared for whom she saw. She clasped my arm and whispered, “Michael,” as if
she were in a trance.

He had his back to the fireplace as we
entered. He turned to look at her, and smiled, as he always did when he saw
her, as if nothing had happened, as if he had just seen her yesterday. He moved
towards us and she retreated, whispering his name once again.

“Mrs. Fitzjames, could we have some
water. It’s been a terrible journey, and Jane is so very exhausted,” I said as
I held her arm, sure she was about to collapse.

Michael rushed to the sideboard, poured
some water from the decanter, and offered it to her. She stared at him, still motionless,
so I took the glass and pressed the rim to her stunned lips.

Michael was standing too close to her.
He was as handsome and striking as ever; more so in his navy uniform. He looked
older and larger. His arms had grown sturdier; his face was tanned and rugged.
He looked like a man who enjoyed giving orders instead of accepting them. He
was as bolder and stronger as Jane was weaker and quieter. I never knew why he
left, and now I had no idea why he had returned, although I supposed that his
departure had been the cause of her melancholy mood.

My uncle had told me they were lovers. Unnatural,
he called it, but I had seen love in the way their eyes chased each other’s
movements at Eyre Hall. Did she tire of him and throw him out? Did he leave
her? Why did she marry my uncle? I could understand my uncle’s reasons, but
what did Jane gain from their union?

Jane was trembling, so I stood between
them with my back to Michael, obstructing her vision, to give her some time to
adjust to the surprise of seeing him.

“Drink some water, Jane, please,” I said
as I pushed the glass to her lips.

“Are you well, Jane?” asked Diana.

“Yes, she’s all right,” I replied. “Just
tired.”  

“Well, you already know Lieutenant
Kirkpatrick. He has come with Captain Carrington and his wife. Captain
Carrington is Michael’s sea captain. He was Charles’s last captain, too, on his
final mission as Admiral of the Fleet. We are surrounded by valiant men today,
are we not ladies?” Diana clapped her hands.

“They’re staying over Christmas. Would
it not be wonderful if we could all spend Christmas together at Eyre Hall? I
would love to have you come here, but of course, Thorpe House is not big enough.
What with Adele, Mr. Greenwood and his son, as well as dear John, and naturally
Mr. Mason, there is just no room here, dear sister. What do you say?”

I stepped forward and offered my hand to
the captain who brushed his lips over my gloved knuckles as he gave me a
lecherous smile, which instantly displeased me. His wife surprised me with a
friendly hug. I finally offered Michael my hand. He bowed but his lips did not
touch my skin.

After greeting the captain and his wife,
Jane turned to Michael. He held her hand longer than was necessary and pressed it
against his lips with a smile. “I’m very pleased to see you again, Mrs. Mason.”

She stared back in silence, so I spoke.
“Lieutenant, although we are pleased to see you, you must understand what a
surprise it is. You left Eyre Hall suddenly, and we have had no information
about your whereabouts in over a year. It was not a courteous way to leave your
employer.”

“You are correct, Miss Mason. I do
apologise to Mrs. Mason for not giving her enough notice of my leave, but my
decision was sudden. My sister, Susan, was leaving Eyre Hall, and I too needed
a change of employment. I came to see Admiral Fitzjames, because he had helped
my father, too.” He turned to Jane. “I hope you can forgive me, Mrs. Mason.”

Jane stared at him, but did not reply.
Fortunately, Admiral Fitzjames broke the tense silence.

“How fortunate of you to have had such
an example. Your father was a brave man, Kirkpatrick. I hope one day your
children will be able to look up to you in the same way.”

“He’ll have to find a wife first, won’t
he? But I’m sure such a handsome and brave young man will have no problem in
that department,” Mrs. Fitzjames nodded. “We must make sure we introduce him to
all the young girls in the area!”

“I can understand how upset Jane must be
at losing such a capable servant, but he did the right thing. There are plenty
of valets, but we can never have enough brave, naval officers. I am glad I
helped him on his way. George here tells me he is the best midshipman he has
ever had, so he has promoted him to lieutenant after only six months at sea.
You made the right decision my boy.” The admiral punched his arm affectionately. 

Jane winced, so I asked her how she was
feeling.

“I’m feeling unwell after the journey. I
think I’d like to retire.”

“Oh no, my dearest sister, you must have
something to eat first. Dinner is ready. Kate has prepared some chicken broth,
and Jack caught some fresh salmon this morning. Come; sit with us at the table,
Jane.”

She hesitated before nodding, taking her
cousin’s arm, and walking to the table.

“Jane, please sit beside me, at the head
of the table.”

Shortly after, the table came alive with
the soft jingle of cutlery chiming against the dishes. We all ate heartily, chatting
amiably, except Jane who was quietly staring at her soup, as if she wanted to
avoid conversation, but the captain’s wife had other plans.

 “We are so pleased to meet you Mrs.
Mason. Mrs. Fitzjames has done nothing but speak of you for years. I cannot
believe I am face to face with the famous James Elliott, which is your pen
name, is it not? I have ordered your new novel from London; it will be here
soon!”

Jane looked up and smiled.

 “Why do you use a male pen name?”

“It seemed the best place to hide. Life
is so much easier for a man.” She looked at Michael, and I realised that she
still had feelings for him.

“But why would such a talented writer
want to hide?” asked the captain’s wife.

“I value my privacy, and I enjoy a quiet
life in the country. I prefer not to speak about myself or my books.”

“But wouldn’t you like to be remembered
as a great writer?”

“I’d prefer to be remembered as a good
person, who helped those in need.”

Diana leaned over to Jane squeezing her
arm, “And someone who was greatly loved, as you are, Jane. Everyone who knows
you is devoted to you. You inspire great devotion, my dearest cousin.”

“Only God deserves devotion, sister. I
am afraid I am an insignificant sinner.”

“I must disagree,” said Michael. “I know
of no–one on the Rochester Estate who would not consider Mrs. Mason a most
honest and charitable person.”

They looked at each other for a moment.
I thought she had stopped breathing, but she spoke to him for the first time.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Kirkpatrick.”

“What is it about?” asked Mrs.
Carrington. “I have heard it is about a poor orphan girl who was at a workhouse
and finally married a lord. How does it come about?”

“I suppose a combination of luck, hard
work, and love, of course, but I’m afraid you’ll have to read it yourself to
find out all the details.”

“I will, as soon as George is back to
sea. He keeps me so busy when he is at home!”

“How long will you be staying in
England, Captain Carrington?” asked Jane.

“We’ll be sailing on the last January
tide, won’t we Kirkpatrick?”