Jane Slayre (24 page)

"Qu' avez-vous, mademoiselle?"
said she.
"Vos doigts tremblant comme la feuille, et vos joues sont rouges; mais, rouges comme des cerises!"

"I am hot, Adele, with stooping." I didn't think I had gone red in the face all my life more than I had in the past week. She went on sketching. I went on thinking.

"Evening approaches," I said, as I looked towards the window. "I have not heard Mr. Rochester's voice or step in the house today, but surely I shall see him before night. I feared the meeting in the morning; now I desire it because expectation has been so long baffled that it is grown impatient."

When dusk actually closed, and when Adele left me to go to play in the nursery with Sophie, I did most keenly desire it. I listened for the bell to ring below. I listened for Leah coming up with a message. I fancied sometimes I heard Mr. Rochester's own tread, and I turned to the door, expecting it to open and admit him. The door remained shut.

A tread creaked on the stairs at last. Leah made her appearance,

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but it was only to intimate that tea was ready in Mrs. Fairfax's room. Thither I repaired, glad at least to go downstairs, for that brought me, I imagined, nearer to Mr. Rochester's presence.

"You must want your tea," said the good lady as I joined her. "You ate so little at dinner. You look flushed and feverish."

"I'm quite well. I never felt better."

"Then you must prove it by evincing a good appetite. Will you fill the teapot while I knit off this needle?" having completed her task, she rose to draw down the blind, forgetting that it had been drawn all day to hide the sight of cow bits scattered throughout the yard.

"It was a fair day," she said. "Or so John informed me. Mr. Rochester had, on the whole, a favourable day for his journey."

"Journey! I did not know he was out."

"He set off the moment he had breakfasted. He has gone to the Leas, Mr. Eshton's place, ten miles on the other side Millcote. I believe there is quite a party assembled there. Lord Ingram, Sir George Lynn, Colonel Dent, and others."

"Do you expect him back tonight?"

"I think he is very likely to stay a week or more. When these fine, fashionable people get together, they are so surrounded by elegance and gaiety, so well provided with all that can please and entertain, they are in no hurry to separate. Gentlemen especially are often in request on such occasions, and Mr. Rochester is so talented and so lively in society that I believe he is a general favourite."

"Are there ladies at the Leas?" My breath came shallow.

Mrs. Fairfax ticked them off. "There are Mrs. Eshton and her three daughters, very elegant young ladies indeed. And there are the honourable Blanche and Mary Ingram, most beautiful women, I suppose. Indeed I have seen Blanche, six or seven years since, when she was a girl of eighteen. She came here to a Christmas ball and party Mr. Rochester gave. Miss Ingram was considered the queen of the evening."

The queen of the evening. With Mr. Rochester. For at least a

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week or more. Not to mention the Misses Eshton. All three. "You saw Blanche Ingram, you say, Mrs. Fairfax? What was she like?"

"Yes, I saw her. Tall, fine bust, sloping shoulders. Long, graceful neck. Olive complexion. Noble features. Eyes rather like Mr. Rochester's, a little darker perhaps, large and black, and as brilliant as her jewels." Like vampyre eyes? "And then she had such a fine head of hair, raven black and so becomingly arranged. A crown of thick plaits behind, and in front the longest, the glossiest curls I ever saw."

"She was greatly admired, of course?"

"Yes, indeed, and not only for her beauty, but for her accomplishments. She was one of the ladies who sang. A gentleman accompanied her on the piano. She and Mr. Rochester sang a duet."

"Mr. Rochester? I was not aware he could sing." here was yet another point in Miss Ingram's favour. I wondered at her conversational skills.

"He has a fine bass voice, and an excellent taste for music."

"And this beautiful and accomplished lady, she is not yet married?"

"It appears not. I fancy neither she nor her sister have very large fortunes. Old Lord Ingram's estates were chiefly entailed, and the eldest son came in for everything almost."

"But I wonder no wealthy nobleman or gentleman has taken a fancy to her. Mr. Rochester, for instance. He is rich, is he not?" I insisted on torturing myself to the greatest degree. What could I offer next to this Miss Ingram?

"There is a considerable difference in age. Mr. Rochester is past thirty. She is but twenty-five."

And I only eighteen. She had every advantage over me. "What of that? More unequal matches are made every day."

"True. But you eat nothing. You have scarcely tasted since you began tea."

"I am too thirsty to eat. Will you let me have another cup?"

If I hadn't been sick earlier, I was indeed feeling so now.

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When once more alone, I reviewed the information I had got; looked into my heart, examined its thoughts and feelings, and pronounced judgment to this effect:

That a greater fool than Jane Slayre had never breathed the breath of life; that a more fantastic idiot had never surfeited herself on sweet lies and swallowed poison as if it were nectar.

"You,"
I said. "A favourite with Mr. Rochester?
You
gifted with the power of pleasing him?
You
of importance to him in any way?"

I was a governess, nothing more, and I was best served to keep my place.

CHAPTER 20

A WEEK PASSED, AND NO news arrived of Mr. Rochester. Ten days, and still he did not come. Mrs. Fairfax said she should not be surprised if he went straight from the Leas to London, and thence to the Continent, and not show his face again at Thornfield for a year to come. He had made it a habit to quit Thornfield in a manner quite as abrupt and unexpected.

When I heard this, I was beginning to feel a strange chill and failing at the heart. I was actually permitting myself to experience a sickening sense of disappointment, but I rallied my wits. Grace Poole had tried to kill him. Was it not best he stayed away? I missed him. This was true. Selfish girl! Was it not better that he was safe from a witch's spells? Away from the risk of falling under evil enchantments? Would marriage to Blanche Ingram not be preferable to losing him to evil purposes?

I reminded myself I had nothing to do with the master of Thornfield, further than to receive the salary he gave me for teaching

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Adele and to be grateful for such respectful and kind treatment as I'd received at his hands. I went on with my day's business tranquilly, but vague suggestions kept wandering across my brain of reasons why I should quit Thornfield. I kept involuntarily framing advertisements and pondering conjectures about new situations. Mr. Rochester had been absent upwards of a fortnight when the post brought Mrs. Fairfax a letter.

"It is from the master," said she as she looked at the direction. "Now I suppose we shall know whether we are to expect his return or not."

While she broke the seal and perused the document, I went on taking my coffee at breakfast. It was hot and I attributed to that circumstance a fiery glow that suddenly rose to my face.

"Well, I sometimes think we are too quiet, but we run a chance of being busy enough now for a little while at least," Mrs. Fairfax said, still holding the note before her spectacles.

"Mr. Rochester is not likely to return soon, I suppose?"

"In three days! And not alone, either. I don't know how many of the fine people at the Leas are coming with him. He sends directions for all the best bedrooms to be prepared, and the library and drawing rooms to be cleaned out. I am to get more kitchen hands from the George Inn at Millcote, and from wherever else I can. The ladies will bring their maids and the gentlemen their valets, so we shall have a full house of it. How exciting!" Mrs. Fairfax hastened away to commence operations.

As she had foretold, the three days were busy enough. I had thought all the rooms at Thornfield beautifully clean and well arranged, but it appears I was mistaken. Three women were got to help, and such scrubbing, such brushing, such washing of paint and beating of carpets, such taking down and putting up of pictures, such polishing of mirrors and lusters, such lighting of fires in bedrooms, such airing of sheets and feather beds on hearths, I never beheld, either before or since.

Mrs. Fairfax had pressed me into her service, so Adele was on

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holiday. I thought of the many Christmases I had been left out and left alone at Gateshead, and well for it considering how the Reeds preferred to celebrate: by eating all their friends. Having visitors was no holiday for me. I was all day in the storeroom, helping Mrs. Fairfax and the cook. I learned to make custards and cheesecakes and French pastry, to truss game and garnish dessert dishes.

I didn't even have time to chase demons or suspect Grace Poole. For the most part, she kept to her portion of the house. I imagined she spent the days up there sewing and laughing to herself, perhaps consulting her spell book.

Others had to have noticed her odd habits, but no one seemed to think anything strange of her except me. I once overheard part of a dialogue between Leah and one of the charwomen about Grace. Leah had been saying something I had not caught, and the char-woman remarked, "She gets good wages, I guess?"

"Yes," said Leah. "I wish I had as good. Not that mine are to complain of. There's no stinginess at Thornfield. But they're not one-fifth of the sum Mrs. Poole receives."

"She is a good hand, I daresay."

"Ah! She understands what she has to do like nobody better. And it is not everyone could fill her shoes--not for all the money she gets."

"I wonder whether the master--"

The charwoman was going on, but here Leah turned and perceived me, and she instantly gave her companion a nudge.

"Doesn't she know?" I heard the woman whisper.

Leah shook her head, and the conversation was of course dropped. All I had gathered from it was that Thornfield held a real mystery, and that I had purposely been excluded from the secret. More proof that I was not half to Mr. Rochester what I thought I had been a mere few weeks earlier.

The next morning the charwoman--disemboweled, with entrails strewn across the lawn and twisted amongst the hawthorn

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branches--was found in the garden. Thornfield's mystery had taken a darker turn.

Thursday afternoon arrived. Mrs. Fairfax assumed her best black satin gown, her gloves, and her gold watch, for it was her part to receive the company, to conduct the ladies to their rooms, and to direct the servants. Adele, too, would be dressed, though I thought she had little chance of being introduced to the party that day at least. For myself, I had no need to make any change. I should not be called upon to quit my sanctum of the schoolroom.

"It gets late." Mrs. Fairfax entered in rustling state, wringing her hands. "I am glad I ordered dinner an hour after the time Mr. Rochester mentioned, for it is past six now. I have sent John down to the gates to see if there is anything on the road."

John returned and approached the window presently. "They're coming, ma'am. They'll be here in ten minutes."

Adele flew to the window. I followed, taking care to stand on one side so that, screened by the curtain, I could see without being seen. At last, wheels were heard. Four equestrians galloped up the drive, and after them came two carriages. My gaze flew straight to Mr. Rochester. He rode his black horse, Mesrour, and Pilot bounded before him, but I would have known him from the shock of black hair visible under his hat and his fine form in the saddle. Once I could manage to turn my gaze from Mr. Rochester, I noticed that the rider beside him was a woman. Her purple riding habit almost swept the ground, her veil streamed long on the breeze.

"Miss Ingram!" exclaimed Mrs. Fairfax, and away she hurried to her post below.

Bah, Miss Ingram. Out in the daylight, no less. I didn't even have the chance to question that she might be a vampyre. I wouldn't rule out other, less desirable conditions in a wife until absolutely necessary.

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More fluttering veils and waving plumes filled the vehicles. Two of the cavaliers were young and dashing. The cavalcade, following the sweep of the drive, quickly turned the angle of the house, and I lost sight of it.

Adele petitioned to go meet the party, but I would not allow it. She cried prettily at the news, but forgot her tears as soon as she caught sounds of the party entering the hall, the joyous stir of ladies' fine accents and laughter blending with the gentlemen's deep tones, the voice of Thornfield Hall's master distinguishable above them all. Light steps ascended the stairs, accented by soft, cheerful laughs and the opening and closing of doors, followed by a temporary hush.

"Elles changent de toilettes,"
said Adele, who had followed every movement. She sighed.

"Yes, I imagine they are changing to even finer dresses to prepare for the evening's entertainments." I checked my own sigh. "Don't you feel hungry, Adele? While the ladies are in their rooms, I will venture down and get you something to eat."

The party devoted the next day to an excursion to some site in the neighbourhood. They set out early in the forenoon, some on horseback, the rest in carriages. Miss Ingram, as before, was the only lady equestrian, and as before, Mr. Rochester galloped at her side. The two rode a little apart from the rest, no doubt sharing interesting conversation. I imagined Blanche Ingram would be agreeable to Mr. Rochester's every point, and it made me smile to think it. I knew he preferred a challenge.

"You said it was not likely they should think of being married," I said to Mrs. Fairfax, who stood near me. "But you see Mr. Rochester evidently prefers her to any of the other ladies."

"Yes, I daresay. No doubt he admires her."

"And she him. Look how she leans her head towards him. I wish I could see her face."