Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy (24 page)

Eyre Hall, January 1874.

“So, the little imp has had a little imp
of her own,” I said, smiling at my sister, who had indeed become a handsome
woman. The last time I had seen her, seven years ago, she was a plain little
waif, who hid behind our mother’s skirts.

Helen glared back at me and raised her
chin before replying. “Your niece is called Beatrice.”

I wasn’t sure when she was a child. My
mother wasn’t herself at the time. She would have bought any story Michael had
told her, but looking at Helen now I had no doubt that she was my mother’s
daughter. Her hair, her eyes, and her demeanour were a perfect replica of my
mother. 

The man I supposed was her husband moved
towards me with a menacing scowl. He was a tall, gentlemanly type, well-dressed
and clearly well-bred. I had heard young Mr. de Winter had inherited a grand
estate and a fortune.

Michael grabbed his arm before Helen’s
husband reached me. “Ignore him, Max. He’s an idiot who’s not worth our time.”

I wouldn’t mind letting off some steam
with either of them, even if I ended up with a bruised eye. It would be worth
the fun, and just watching my mother’s distress would be an appreciated reward.

“Hello Beatrice,” I said, wiggling my
finger at the baby in the pram. Then I looked at Helen. “Aren’t you going to
introduce me to your husband, sister?”

Michael stepped forward with a furrowed
brow. I knew he’d pick up the gauntlet. I’d be able to have some fun after all.
“I won’t let you upset your mother, John. She’s troubled enough with Adele’s
death. Show her some compassion, for once.”

Perhaps I could still persuade him to
fight with me. “Afraid I’ll beat you down again, are you, Michael?”

“You did not beat him fairly.” My sister
walked up to Michael and put her hand through his arm. “I was there. Michael
wouldn’t fight you and you took advantage of that in a cowardly way.”

He had refused to fight back, making the
excuse that a fight would upset my mother. He was a cunning bastard. “We’ll
never know what would have happened, will we?” I replied, challenging Michael,
but he shook his head and turned to walk away with Helen.

“In any case, it did the trick. It
brought my mother to her knees before you.”

Michael swung round and grabbed my
lapels. “Your mother will always be on a pedestal when she is with me, and you
know it, so don’t provoke a fight you know you’ll lose.”

I laughed. “I know no such thing.”

This time it was Max who pulled him
away. “Let’s go, Michael. Jane’s waiting for us in the drawing room with
Annette.”

“Go ahead, rush away,” I said.

Michael pulled away from Max, glaring at
me. “After the funeral, John Rochester.”

“I’d be delighted, Michael Kirkpatrick.”

My mother and Annette walked out of the
dining room with linked arms, holding handkerchiefs to their eyes. Michael
rushed to my mother’s side, putting his arm over her shoulder and kissing her
cheek. I knew it was a gesture meant to spite me.

The funeral was a miserable affair. We
all loved merry, forthright Adele. She was never one to mince her words, but
she always meant well. My father, who was also most probably her father too, as
my mother claimed, hadn’t been fair to her, but she never held it against him.
She said he had saved her from living as an orphan in Paris, so although he
refused to allow her to use our surname, Adele Varens adored my father and was
a loyal friend to my mother.

Adele was practically my second mother
when I was a child. I loved her dearly when I was younger, and a small part of
me wondered whether I could have been more caring towards her in the last years,
but after my mother’s betrayal, I found it impossible to feel affection for
anyone in the family who didn’t hate Michael Kirkpatrick. Even though I
couldn’t summon the love I should have felt, it filled me with hope and
contentment that so many other people cried her loss in an honest manifestation
of their appreciation. I was sorry, for once, that I couldn’t love someone who
deserved to be loved, so I feigned pain, which wasn’t too hard as I watched
that servant embrace my mother. 

Adele had been confined to a wheelchair
for the last year, after she had been run over by a carriage. They had had to
amputate most of her left leg, but the wound refused to heal properly. My
mother spent a fortune on the best doctors, until one night, Adele bled to
death. Her husband told me she was as white as a sheet, without a single drop
of blood left in her body, and although he was devastated, he confessed that
her last months had been full of pain and misery.

Mr. Greenwood’s son, the drunken and
worthless painter Dante, and daughter-in-law Susan, stood by the broken man.
Michael kissed his sister and shook hands with Dante. Brother and sister had
fallen out when I told Michael that Susan had betrayed him by telling me where
he had been hiding with my mother, but they had made amends. Susan had
apparently been looking after Adele, as well as her own children, while putting
up with a worthless husband, and now she would have to look after her aged
father-in-law. No doubt my mother was paying her well for her services. I
didn’t trust her any more than I trusted her damned brother. 

I watched my beautiful wife dry her
tears in another pew, as far away from me as she could sit. I didn’t blame her.
She didn’t deserve the person I had become, but we all knew who to thank for
that. Michael had destroyed my family, and now it would all be his. I had
thought about it for a long time, and there was no other solution to the
family’s predicament.

The service ended and we all walked back
towards the house, heads bent, most still holding back their tears. I wondered
how many people would mourn my death. Probably not many if I were to die at
this moment. Why didn’t I care?

I approached my mother and told her I
needed to speak to her, Michael, Helen and her husband at once, in the library.

They all sat as I paced the room,
wondering where to start. Annette held her hands firmly on her lap, her lips
pursed and her expression stern. She hated me, although probably not more than
I deserved, but it was still painful to watch. We could have been happy, but I
had an unavoidable duty to this land and an agonising grudge, as well as an
empty space in my soul which no one could fill, not even the woman I still
loved.

Annette had agreed to let me speak on
her behalf. I stopped pacing and stood in front of my audience. “You’ve
probably noticed that Annette and I are no longer living as husband and wife,”
I said and waited for them to digest the news.

“I’m afraid it hasn’t worked out between
us. We had two wonderful years, doing our best to procure an heir for Eyre Hall
and the Rochester Estate, but the happy event never took place. Perhaps if we
had had a son, or even a daughter, things would have been different, but we
didn’t, couldn’t, and our marriage suffered as a result.”

Annette sat still as a statue, while the
others fidgeted and looked uneasily at each other, waiting for me to continue.

“Annette tried to convince me that it
didn’t matter, but I knew an heir was vital.” I paused to look at her. “And I
had to know if I could father a child.”

Annette’s face reddened with rage, or
perhaps it was pain? In any case, she was silent, as she had promised.

“So, I sowed my seed far and wide, in
the hope of proving to myself that I could father a child.” I chuckled. “And do
you know what?” I looked at my mother’s shocked face before continuing. “Not
one of my mistresses had a child.”

My mother’s eyes pierced me. She wasn’t
angry. She was devastated. I had failed her yet again. “John, you should never
have been so disrespectful to your wife.”

“You are right, Mother.” I turned to
Annette. “I’m sorry if I caused my wife distress, but I had to know.”

Annette moved at last. She wiped her
tears and my mother rushed to her side, taking her hand.

“Why do you want us to know this?” asked
my mother.

“Because it is of utmost importance to
all of you, as you will soon learn.”

Helen also moved to Annette’s side,
putting her arms around her. Mother and daughter, both so empathetic and
caring. No wonder they were so easy to fool.

“I cannot have any children and we are
no longer in love.” I paused after the lie. We were still in love, but her
abhorrence and my insecurities had prevailed. “So the only logical course of
action is to terminate our marriage.”

Michael held my stare and spoke. “You
have no need to inform us of anything regarding your marriage. This is a
private matter and should remain between the two of you.”

“I’m afraid it affects all of you. You
see, I have decided to leave England. I’m returning to Boston, where I plan to
start a new life. I have been offered a position at the School of Divinity.
Eyre Hall is no longer my priority.”

My mother turned to my wife. “What are
your plans, Annette?”

“I may return to my plantation in
Jamaica, but for the time being, I’d like to spend some time in London.”

“Of course, you are welcome to stay at
our London house as long as you like, or come and stay at Manderley if you
wish.”

“My first journey will be to London. I
need to think about what I may do, as far away from Eyre Hall as possible,” she
said, still wiping her tears. She had shed too many, and as much as I wished I
could soothe her despondency, at this moment I knew she would be happier
without me. 

“Are you sure you can’t give yourselves
a second chance? You are still so young.” My mother was as optimistic and naïve
as ever.

Fortunately Annette shook her head. “We
have decided a divorce is best for both of us.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” said
my mother

“Nothing,” I replied. “It’s over,
Mother. It has been over for some time. Annette has been patient.” I paused,
remembering her tortured expression when I brought one of my mistresses to Eyre
Hall. “Probably too patient with me, and I thank her for it, but our
differences are irreconcilable.”

My mother turned to me. “I’m sorry your
marriage hasn’t worked out and I can understand that you no longer want to live
in the same house, but what will happen to Eyre Hall and the Rochester
Estate?” 

“That is why I’m telling you all this.
You have to come back, Mother.”

Michael stood furiously. “You will not
tell your mother what she should do. And this had better not be one of your
games!”

“Eyre Hall is no game. Your son, James,
is the heir, the only possible heir.” I remembered the red-haired, freckled
little boy my mother had introduced me to when she arrived yesterday. He had
his father’s amber eyes and tall, sturdy build, but the rest was my mother’s.
“James must live here and grow to love and manage the estate. It’s the only
option to keep it on foot and in the family.”

Michael was stunned into silence.

“Helen must stay at Manderley with her
husband, so you have to come back Mother.” I turned to Michael. “The three of
you must return.”

My mother looked at Michael, waiting for
him to speak. “You will not dictate where we live,” he said, pointing at me,
and then he turned to my mother. “Helen still needs us at Manderley.”

My mother left Annette’s side to stand
by her husband. “Let’s discuss it, Michael,” she said, pulling her arm through
his. When he nodded, I said what had been on my mind for years. “Michael, soon to
be Lord Kirkpatrick, I hear.” I had been told that he had become a popular
member of the Liberal Party, sitting on various select committees and was very
close to Gladstone. What was this country coming to after so many years of
liberalism? The next elections to be held at the end of the month would bring a
Conservative government, at last. If Disraeli didn’t beat the damn Scot, the
country would be completely ruined.

“Eyre Hall and the Rochester Estate will
be yours after all, Michael. Your ambition has no limits.”

Michael tore his arm away from my
mother’s. “I’ve heard enough. We are not coming back,” were his last words
before storming out of the room. Max, who had been watching silently nodded at
my mother and followed him out. Too bad he hadn’t lashed out at me, but at
least I was sure he’d have an argument with my mother.

As the door closed after Max, my mother
pressed a finger into my chest.

“Don’t you dare speak to Michael like
that in my presence again. Make no mistake, John, I will always choose Michael
over anybody or anything, including Eyre Hall. I thought you understood that. I
will live wherever Michael wants to live, so you will have to convince him, not
me.”

I was forced to speak to Michael the
following day, and we settled the matter the only way we could, by thrashing
each other. I received the biggest beating by far. He told me I deserved a
hiding for the way I had treated my mother and Annette, and perhaps he was
right. In any case, it was the only way to make my mother come back to Eyre
Hall, and I didn’t want my father’s legacy to be sold to another family, so I
accepted my punishment. Max was our only witness, and I was sure he was there
to make sure Michael didn’t kill me or injure me too severely. I trusted him.
He was a gentleman too. I was sure he understood my position, and he didn’t
seem to be a man who would tolerate a murder.