"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."
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"You will see her this evening," answered Mrs. Fairfax. "I happened to remark to Mr. Rochester how much Adele wished to be introduced to the ladies, and he said, 'Oh! Let her come into the drawing room after dinner, and request Miss Slayre to accompany her.' "
"He is all politeness. I need not go, I am sure."
"I don't know." Mrs. Fairfax sighed. "I observed to him that you were unused to company and he said, 'Nonsense! If she objects, tell her it is my particular wish. And if she resists, say I shall come and fetch her.' "
It was like him, but I was still sure nothing was behind it but politeness. "I will not give him that trouble. Shall you be there, Mrs. Fairfax?"
"No. I pleaded off, and he admitted my plea. I'll tell you how to manage so as to avoid the embarrassment of making a formal entrance, which is the most disagreeable part of the business. You must go into the drawing room while it is empty, before the ladies leave the dinner table. Choose your seat in any quiet nook you like. You need not stay long after the gentlemen come in, unless you please. Just let Mr. Rochester see that you're there and then slip away. Nobody will notice you."
"Will these people remain long, do you think?"
"Perhaps two or three weeks, certainly not more. It surprises me that he has already made so protracted a stay at Thornfield."
As the hour approached, I proceeded, as instructed by Mrs. Fairfax, to find a perch in the drawing room. Adele had been ecstatic all day after hearing she was to be presented to the ladies in the evening, and only the gravity of getting dressed for the occasion could calm her down. She was a perfect little lady, and grave as a judge, as Sophie arranged her curls in drooping clusters, tied her pink satin sash, and adjusted her little lace mittens. There was no need to warn her not to mess her appearance. She sat on a little footstool in the drawing room and took utmost care in arranging her skirts so as to avoid creasing the satin.
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I retired to the window seat with a book to keep me occupied. I imagined I would largely escape notice. Still, I wore my best dress, the silver-grey one, purchased for Miss Temple's wedding. My hair was smoothed. My sole adornment, as usual, was the pearl brooch. The room looked lovely. A large fire burned and wax candles dotted the marble mantelpiece and shone on tables all around the room, next to exquisitely arranged displays of flowers in which I had hidden stakes in the event of necessity. Since guests had entered the house, I'd suffered a return of my odd nervous feeling that I'd come to realise anticipated the presence of vampyres. I would study the guests carefully and decide which of them could possibly be one.
A soft sound of rising now became audible. The dining-room curtain was swept back from the arch to reveal ladies getting up from the table and preparing to adjourn to the drawing room. I counted quickly. There were eight of them. The gentlemen must have gone out for their port or a smoke. I was sure they would rejoin the party shortly.
In the meantime, I sat back in my seat and assessed the ladies, who moved together like a flock of birds. Once they were all in, I rose and curtsied, as it would be impolite to do otherwise, but I couldn't wait to get back to my looking on from the side. Only one or two of them nodded in my direction. The others only stared at me.
Adele had better luck in making an impression. She rose after me, as if waiting to make the most of the entrance.
"Bonjour, mesdames," she said with gravity, then looked up as if just waiting for compliments to start pouring in.
> "Oh, what a little puppet!" The one I knew at once was Miss Ingram looked down at Adele with a mocking air. I disliked her immediately, but I ruled her out for the vampyre in our midst as I had witnessed her riding in full sunshine.
Another lady, who I would learn was Lady Lynn, remarked, "It is Mr. Rochester's ward, I suppose--the little French girl he was speaking of."
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Mrs. Dent kindly took her hand and gave her a kiss.
Amy and Louisa Eshton cried out simultaneously, "What a love of a child!" Then they called her to a sofa, where she sat, ensconced between them, chattering alternately in French and broken English, absorbing not only the young ladies' attention, but that of Mrs. Eshton and Lady Lynn. Adele was spoiled to her heart's content, but were they assessing her in the usual way that ladies doted on pretty children or as a tasty morsel to snack on later in the evening?
I got the names of all the ladies within minutes. There was Mrs. Eshton and two of her daughters. Of her daughters, who sat enchanted with my little charge, the eldest, Amy, was rather little and somewhat childlike herself in face and manner. The second, Louisa, was taller and more elegant in figure, very pretty, too. Mrs. Colonel Dent was less showy, but more ladylike. I'd centred on Lady Lynn, with her high forehead and dark eyes, as the one with most vampyric potential.
But the three most distinguished--partly, perhaps, because the tallest figures of the band--were the Dowager Lady Ingram and her daughters, Blanche and Mary. They were all three of the loftiest stature of women. The dowager gave an expression of almost insupportable haughtiness in her bearing and countenance. She had a fierce and a hard eye. It reminded me of Mrs. Reed's. If Blanche was no vampyre, I still couldn't be sure of her mother.
Blanche and Mary were of equal stature, both straight and tall as poplars. Mary was too slim for her height, but Blanche was moulded like a goddess. I regarded her, of course, with special interest. First, I wished to see whether her appearance accorded with Mrs. Fair-fax's description. Second, whether it were such as I should fancy her likely to suit Mr. Rochester's taste. And third, if I could find some defect as to render her an unnatural being that must be removed from society and perhaps the very earth.
As far as her person went, she answered point for point Mrs. Fairfax's description. But her face had the same high features and
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haughty look of her mother's. I supposed men might overlook the haughtiness, or think it attractive on some level.
And her manner? Her laugh was satirical to match the habitual expression of her arched and haughty lip. She played: her execution was brilliant. She sang: her voice was fine. She spoke French apart to her mama, and she spoke it well, with fluency and with a good accent.
Had she placed herself under an enchantment to accomplish so much and to do it all well? Was she perhaps an ugly goblin under a glamour to make her appear as a beautiful woman? All things were possible, and I would be considering her every move.
Mary, Miss Ingram's sister, had a milder and more open countenance than Blanche, softer features, too, and a skin some shades fairer. But Mary was deficient in life. Her face lacked expression, her eye luster. She had nothing to say and, having once taken her seat, remained fixed like a statue in its niche. Very zombielike, if I was being honest, and it was entirely possible that she had died young and her vain sister had dug her up to act the foil. The sisters were both attired in spotless, unaccented white.
At last coffee was brought in, and the gentlemen were summoned. For some time, I had been in my little window nook observing unmolested Adele was content. No one needed or cared to notice me. The collective appearance of the gentlemen, like that of the ladies, was imposing. The gentlemen were all in black. Most of them were tall, equal in height to Mr. Rochester or taller. Some of them were young.
Henry and Frederick Lynn were dashing sparks indeed. Colonel Dent seemed a fine soldierly man. Sir George was a big country-looking sort. Mr. Eshton, the magistrate of the district, was gentleman-like with white hair but dark eyebrows and whiskers, which made him look a little theatrical. Lord Ingram, like his sisters, was tall, and also handsome, but he shared Mary's apathetic and listless look. He seemed to have more length of limb than vivacity of blood or vigour of brain. If Blanche had harvested one sibling, what was
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to stop her from cursing the second? It would serve her well when spending her brother's inheritance. She could control him, and his money.
And where was Mr. Rochester?
He came in last, a little after all the others. I looked away on purpose, though I saw him enter from the corner of my eye. I feigned attention to my knitting needles, to the meshes of the purse I was forming. But there he was. My mind flew back to our last meeting when he didn't want to let me go. What had occurred since to change his and my relative position? How distant, how far estranged, we were! I did not wonder when, without looking at me, he took a seat at the other side of the room and began conversing with some of the ladies.
I was safe to watch him without being observed. My gaze was drawn to his rough face, the olive complexion, square brow, deep eyes, firm mouth. Was he beautiful according to rule? Not in the way of the Ingrams perhaps, or not like the handsome younger Henry and Frederick Lynn. But he was beautiful to me. He quite mastered me. I had not intended to love him. The reader knows how hard I had tried to stop. Now, at the first renewed view of him, I couldn't deny my feelings. He made me love him without looking at me.
I compared him with his guests. What was the gallant grace of the Lynns, the languid elegance of Lord Ingram, even the military distinction of Colonel Dent, contrasted with Mr. Rochester's look of native pith and genuine power? He talked, at the moment, to Louisa and Amy Eshton. I wondered to see them receive with calm that look that seemed to me so penetrating. I expected their eyes to fall, their colour to rise under it; yet I was glad when it seemed they were in no sense moved.
Coffee was handed around. Conversation carried on. Blanche Ingram stood alone at the table, bending gracefully over an album. Mr. Rochester quit the Eshtons and went to stand on the hearth, solitary, giving her the perfect chance to confront him.
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"Mr. Rochester, I thought you were not fond of children?" she asked, heading right over to his side.
"Nor am I."
"Then, what induced you to take charge of such a little doll as that?" She gestured to Adele as if she were an object, just a floppy puppet. "Where did you pick her up?"
"I did not pick her up. She was left on my hands."
"You should have sent her to school."
"I could not afford it. Schools are so dear."
"Why, I suppose you have a governess for her. I saw a person with her just now--is she gone? Oh, no! There she is still, behind the window curtain. You pay her, of course. I should think it quite as expensive, more so, for you have them both to keep in addition."
Oh, yes, I was quite the luxury item. I hated to be reminded that I was in his employ and not an equal, as Miss Ingram. But so be it.
"I have not considered the subject." He remained staring straight in front of him. I imagined he was sorry he'd set himself apart for conversation and was fancying he might step out for a cigar about now. If I had the kind of power over him that I'd suspected of Grace Poole, it was exactly the kind of thought I would put in his head.
"No, you men never do consider economy and common sense," Blanche, sensing she'd struck a point in her favour, carried on. "You should hear Mama on the chapter of governesses. Mary and I have had, I should think, a dozen at least in our day, half of them detestable and the rest ridiculous--were they not, Mama?"
"Did you speak, my own?"
The young lady thus claimed as the dowager's special property reiterated her question with an explanation, and Lady Ingram said, "My dearest, don't mention governesses. The word makes me nervous. I thank heaven I have now done with them!"
I was not disappointed to find myself amongst the very class who had driv
en Lady Ingram to distraction. I felt the pride of sisterhood with those who had gone before me. If only they had proven even more effective in their quest to do Lady Ingram in.
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Mrs. Dent here bent over to the pious lady and whispered something in her ear. I supposed it was a reminder that one of the dreaded race was present.
"Very well. I hope it may do her good!" Lady Ingram went on. Then, in a lower tone, but still loud enough for me to hear: "I noticed her. I am a judge of physiognomy, and in hers I see all the faults of her class."
"What are they, madam?" inquired Mr. Rochester aloud.
"I will tell you in your private ear," replied she, wagging her turban three times with portentous significance.
"But my curiosity will be past its appetite. It craves food now." Mr. Rochester wore that vexing half smile, though he would still not meet my gaze.
"Ask Blanche. She is nearer you than I."
By now, I assumed it was so scandalous as to admit that her husband had preferred the company of governesses to that of his wife, and I would not be at all surprised. Intolerable woman!
"Oh, don't refer him to me, Mama! I have just one word to say of the whole tribe. They are a nuisance. Not that I ever suffered much from them. I took care to turn the tables. What tricks Theodore and I used to play on our Miss Wilsons, and Mrs. Greys, and Madame Jouberts! And then there was Miss Ross, the most disagreeable of them all. She caught on to all of our tricks. Tedo, remember how she broke all the mirrors in the house? But when we went outdoors, she would never chase after us. La, but we spent so much time out of doors when she was with us just to avoid her!"
"Yaas," Blanche's brother drawled. "And then, I told you, I saw her run straight into the tree branch one night, the night I refused to come in even after dark and she insisted on chasing me down. She tripped, landed on the branch, and poof! She turned to dust."
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