Jane Slayre

by Sherri Browning Erwin

  "Dark eyes run in my family." She might have blushed if she had the ability.

  "How did you come to be working in a silk warehouse? It seems too dreary an occupation for a young woman. But perhaps there's plenty to eat."

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Don't you? Travellers must come from all over to sell you their wares. I wonder, how many of them make it safely back home to their families?"

  She glared, rather like Georgiana Reed used to glare at Eliza, her round face becoming sharp and shrewish. With a shrug, she lowered one skein and pretended to reach for another, but instead she gripped me by the throat and bared her fangs. "What do you know of it? Do you want a bite, then?"

  "No indeed." Her grip was solid, and I knew I could not break out of it by pulling away.

  Instead, I dropped straight to the ground in a move that Miss Temple once showed me and I hadn't tried in years, one leg forward, one leg back. She called it the splits. The sudden move disoriented my opponent and allowed me to reach into my skirt for

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  my stakes and spring back to my feet in fighting form. I faced her, stakes extended.

  "Oh, you like to play," she purred, casually strolling towards me. "Mother always warned me not to play with my food."

  Before I could adequately prepare for combat, she flew through the air with acrobatic speed and delivered a solid kick to my solar plexus. It knocked me back a few feet, right to the floor. I couldn't catch my breath! I couldn't move. And she kept coming at me. I had to think fast. I remained down and let her come. At the last second, as she leapt for me, I rolled to the side and sprang to my feet. Bolts of fabric lined the walls to cushion her impact. She bounced back and snarled in my direction.

  I could tell she was prepared to make another run at me. In the back of the room, on the other side, there was a door. My one hope was that the door led to the outdoors, and sunlight. I ran for it. As predicted, she ran after me, close on my heels. Vampyres, unlike zombies, were fast. My lungs burned with the effort of making it to the door before she made it to me.

  My hand on the knob, I turned. So focused on devouring me, perhaps, she didn't notice I was at the door, she flew at me in a fury. At the last second, I turned the knob, opened the door, and sunlight flooded in, causing her to recoil, hands over her face.

  "No!" she screamed. "No, stop! It burns. It burns!"

  While she was still protecting her face from the sun, I stepped forward and stabbed the stake right through her heart. Poof! Dust. I didn't bother extricating my stake from her frock, which pooled on the floor. I had plenty more at home.

  The warehouse manager peeked his head in the door at the other side of the room, followed closely by Mr. Rochester and Adele. "Was that a scream?"

  "Yes." I indicated the open door. "The oddest thing. Your assistant decided that I was hopeless to choose one black satin from another. It drove her to such distraction that she ran screaming right out that door. Any black satin will do. I leave it in your capable

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  hands." he would no doubt simply choose the most expensive. Turning to Mr. Rochester, I said, "Shall we go, sir?"

  I moved past the men to take little Adele by the hand and lead the way back to the front of the shop.

  Glad was I to get him out of the silk warehouse, and then out of a jeweler's shop. As we reentered the carriage and I sat back feverish and fagged, I remembered what, in the hurry of events, dark and bright, I had wholly forgotten--the letter of my uncle John Slayre to Mrs. Reed, his intention to adopt me and make me his legatee.

  It would indeed be a relief, I thought, to have a small independency, some income of my own. I would feel more of an equal to my husband and less like his dependent. Yes, that would be ideal! I decided to write to Madeira at once, as soon as I got home, to tell my uncle John that I was alive and to be married, and to whom. Feeling better at the thought, I ventured once more to meet my future husband's eye.

  He smiled. I settled little Adele, who also had some new things and was quite content now to sleep on the way home, on the seat to my other side and looked with a serious air at Mr. Rochester.

  "I will have you know," I said, "that I do not want to be crushed by obligations. Do you remember what you said of Celine Varens? Of the diamonds, the cashmeres, you gave her? I will welcome a few presents, like the dresses today, which will be needed for our travels, and I thank you. But I will not be your English Celine Varens. I shall continue to act as Adele's governess; by that I shall earn my board and lodging, and thirty pounds a year besides. In future, I'll furnish my own wardrobe out of that money, and you shall give me nothing but--"

  "Well, but what?"

  "Your regard. And if I give you mine in return, that debt will be quit."

  "Well, for cool native impudence and pure innate pride, you haven't your equal." We were now approaching Thornfield. "Will it please you to dine with me today?"

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  "No, thank you, sir."

  "And what for 'no, thank you?' if one may inquire."

  "I never have dined with you, sir, and I see no reason why I should now until we are married."

  "Do you suppose I eat like an ogre or a vampyre, that you dread being the companion of my repast?"

  "I simply want to go on as usual for another month."

  "You will give up your governessing slavery at once."

  "Indeed, begging your pardon, sir, I shall not. I shall just go on with it as usual. I shall keep out of your way all day, as I have been accustomed to do. You may send for me in the evening, when you feel disposed to see me, and I'll come then, but at no other time."

  "Very well, little tyrant. It is your time now, but it will be mine once we're wed."

  He said this as he helped me to alight from the carriage, and while he afterwards lifted out Adele. I entered the house and made good my retreat upstairs.

  The month of courtship fled by, its very last hours being numbered. I had nothing more to do. My trunks were packed, locked, corded, arranged in a row along the wall of my little chamber. Tomorrow, at this time, they would be far on their road to London, and so should one Jane Rochester, a person whom as yet I knew not.

  My wedding clothes hung in the closet, the pearl-coloured robe and the vapoury veil. I shut the closet to conceal the strange, wraith-like apparel it contained. I paced, then decided to go out for a walk, though it was nine o'clock. Not only did the hurry of preparation make me restless, or the anticipation of the great change--the new life that was to commence tomorrow. Both these circumstances had their share, doubtless, in producing that excited mood that hurried me forth at this late hour into the darkening grounds--but a third cause influenced my mind more than they.

  The previous night, something had happened that I could not

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  comprehend, perhaps did not want to accept. Mr. Rochester that night was absent from home, and he remained absent for the next few hours. Business had called him to a small estate of two or three farms he possessed thirty miles off, business it was requisite he should settle in person, before his meditated departure from England. I waited now his return, eager to seek of him the solution of the enigma that perplexed me. Stay until he comes, reader; and when I disclose my secret to him, you shall share the confidence.

  CHAPTER 28

  I SOUGHT THE ORCHARD, DRIVEN to its shelter by the wind, which had all day blown strong and full from the south. Descending the laurel walk, I faced the wreck of the chestnut tree. The cloven halves were not broken from each other, for the firm base and strong roots kept them together below.

  "You did right to hold fast to each other," I said, as if the monster splinters were living things and could hear me.

  As I looked up at them, the moon appeared momentarily in that part of the sky that filled their fissure. Her disk was bloodred and half overcast. She seemed to throw on me one bewildered, dreary glance, then buried herself again instantly in the deep drift of cloud.

  "I wish he would c
ome!" I exclaimed, seized with hypochondriac foreboding. Not my usual queer feeling. I was certain no vampyres roamed. But I had expected his arrival before tea. Now it was dark. What could keep him?

  I set out for the gate, thinking to meet him there. I walked fast, but not far ere I heard the tramp of hooves. A horseman came on, full gallop. A dog ran by his side.

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  "There!" he exclaimed as he stretched out his hand and bent from the saddle. "You can't do without me. Step on my boot toe. Give me both hands, mount!"

  I obeyed. Joy made me agile. I sprang up before him. A hearty kissing I got for a welcome, and some boastful triumph, which I swallowed as well as I could.

  "I thought you would never come. I could not bear to wait in the house for you, especially with this rain and wind."

  "Yes, you are dripping like a mermaid. Pull my cloak around you." He nestled me closer. "But I think you are feverish, Jane. Both your cheek and hand are burning hot. I ask again, is there anything the matter?"

  "I'll tell you all about it once we get warm before the library fire."

  He helped me down once we reached the stable. John took his horse. He followed me into the hall, told me to make haste and put something dry on, then to return to him in the library, where I met up with him not long afterwards. He sat with a small supper waiting for us both.

  "Take a seat and bear me company, Jane. Please God, it is the last meal but one you will eat at Thornfield Hall for a long time."

  I sat down near him, but told him I could not eat. "I cannot see my prospects clearly tonight, and I hardly know what thoughts I have in my head. Everything in life seems unreal."

  "Except me. I am substantial enough. Touch me."

  "You, Edward, are the most phantomlike of all. You are a mere dream."

  "Is that a dream?" he said, laughing, placing his hand close to my eyes.

  "Yes, though I touch it, it is a dream." I put it down from before my face. "Have you finished supper?"

  "Yes, Jane."

  I rang the bell and ordered away the tray. When we were again alone, I stirred the fire, then took a low seat at his knee.

  "It is near midnight," I said.

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  "Yes, but remember, Jane, you promised to wake with me the night before my wedding."

  "I did, and I will keep my promise, for an hour or two at least. I have no wish to go to bed." Absolutely no wish, if only he knew.

  "Are all your arrangements complete?"

  "All, sir."

  "And on my part likewise. I have settled everything. We shall leave Thornfield tomorrow, within half hour after our return from church. But, you hinted a while ago at something which had happened in my absence. Let me hear it. You have overheard the servants talk?"

  "No." It struck twelve. I waited for the chimes to stop, then continued, "All day yesterday, I was very busy, and very happy in my ceaseless bustle. I think it a glorious thing to have the hope of living with you, because I love you. Edward, don't caress me now--let me talk undisturbed. Yesterday, I trusted well in Providence and believed that events were working together for your good and mine. It was a fine day, if you recollect. I walked a little while after tea, thinking of you. Sophie called me upstairs to look at my wedding dress, which they had just brought. And under it in the box I found your present, the veil, which, in your princely extravagance, you sent for from London. I smiled as I unfolded it and devised how I would tease you about your aristocratic tastes. I had prepared myself a simple square of unembroidered blond to use as a veil, but yours, Edward. It was extraordinary."

  "Was? But what did you find in the veil besides its embroidery? Did you find poison, or a dagger, that you look so mournful now?"

  I shook my head. "Besides the delicacy and richness of the fabric, I found nothing save Edward Rochester's pride, and that did not scare me because I am used to the sight of that particular demon. But, sir, as it grew dark, the wind rose. I wished you were at home. For some time after I went to bed, I could not sleep--a sense of anxious excitement distressed me."

  "Your vampyre feeling? Tell me you were safe, that none came?"

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  "Not vampyres. Once I finally fell asleep, I continued in dreams the idea of a dark and gusty night. I had another dream that Thorn-field Hall was but a ruin, a charred and abandoned place. On waking, a gleam dazzled my eyes. I thought, 'Oh, it is daylight!' But I was mistaken. It was only candlelight. Sophie, I supposed, had come in. There was a light on the dressing table, and the door of the closet, where, before going to bed, I had hung my wedding dress and veil, stood open. I heard a rustling there. I asked, 'Sophie, what are you doing?' No one answered. A form emerged from the closet. It took the light, held it aloft, and surveyed the wedding garments that were hanging. I had risen up in bed. I bent forward. First surprise, then bewilderment, came over me, and then my blood crept cold through my veins. Mr. Rochester, this was not Sophie, it was not Leah, it was not Mrs. Fairfax. It was not--no, I was sure of it, and am still--it was not even that strange woman, Grace Poole."

  "It must have been one of them," interrupted my Edward.

  "I solemnly assure you to the contrary. The shape standing before me had never crossed my eyes within the precincts of Thornfield Hall. The height, the contour, the form, were new to me."

  "Describe it, Jane."

  "It seemed a woman, tall and large, with thick and dark hair hanging long down her back."

  "Did you see her face?"

  "Not at first. But presently she took my veil from its place. She held it up, gazed at it long, and then she threw it over her own head, and turned to the mirror. At that moment I saw the reflection of the visage and features quite distinctly in the glass."

  "And how were they?"

  "Fearful and ghastly to me--oh, I never saw a face like it! It was a reflection, so I knew at once it was not a vampyre. Witch, ghoul, or fiend, I could not tell. She was no zombie! Zombies are listless unless in a frenzy for flesh, then still quite slow. This one was fierce! It was a discoloured face--it was a savage face. I wish I could forget

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  the roll of the red eyes and the fearful blackened inflation of the lineaments!"

  "Ghosts are usually pale, Jane."

  "This was purple. The lips were swelled and bloody, with teeth protruding, such long, sharp teeth. The nose! It was more like a snout. She might have been lightly furred. It was dark. I could not tell."

  "Ah! What did it do?"

  "It removed my veil from its monstrous head, rent it in two parts with its hands, quite like paws, and flung the destroyed veil on the floor and trampled on it."

  "Afterwards?"

  "It drew aside the window curtain and looked out. Perhaps it saw dawn approaching, for, taking the candle, it retreated to the door. Just at my bedside, the figure stopped. The fiery eyes glared upon me. She thrust up her candle close to my face and extinguished it under my eyes."

  "And she left you then? Dear God, Jane, she didn't try to hurt you?"

  "Then she left me," I said, leaving off the rest of the narrative for the time.

  "Thank God" he exclaimed, "that if anything malignant did come near you last night, it was only the veil that was harmed! Oh, to think what might have happened!"

  He pulled me up onto his lap and hugged me to him, and I accepted the comfort for now, leaning into his strong arms, breathing in his soothing scent of spice and cigars. He was home, and I was glad.

  To think what might have happened, indeed!

  While she was on me, dear reader, I gripped my daggers under the sheet, and I thought about how best to strike. I knew it would give me a fight, and I debated how prepared I was to take on such a foe. I was alone, no Mr. Rochester down the hall to come running

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  to my assistance. I had seen what she had done to Mr. Mason. I was prepared to defend myself should the need arise, but I was not prepared to attack without provocation, not knowing quite what I was up against. Great was my relief when it s
imply blew out the candle and started back for the third-story door.

  I gave it a minute to get well enough ahead of me, then I grabbed my shawl, daggers, and stakes and followed carefully. The gallery was dark. I peeked out my door, my heart racing, and heard the third-story door creak open and footfalls on the stairs. Even then, I was not satisfied. I waited a minute, went back into my room, and lit a candle, which I then carried with me to the door and up the stairs. At the top of the stairs, I heard voices.

  The tapestry was askew, but I could see that the door behind it was shut and, I suspected, locked again. I could not make out a conversation directly, but one voice seemed to cluck and admonish while the other made that deep, low laugh. Curious, that! I could only conclude that Grace Poole had been the blameless victim of my suspicions. She was most definitely not the creature I'd seen in my room. Most likely she was its keeper, an occasionally lax keeper at that. That she had it all locked up again did not make me any lighter of heart.

  The question remained, what was it? And why did Edward keep it in his home? I hoped he would volunteer some answers to my questions. On the eve of my wedding, I was willing to accept what he would offer without wanting to press him for more. It was enough to know that I was safe, that whatever it was might have murderous intentions on Mr. Rochester and anyone who came near to challenge it in its lair, but it seemed to be mostly under lock, and in control, and not out to generally injure or attack the other members of the household. Still, when I was married, I would demand my answers, and it would have to go.

  "Afterwards, did you sleep?" he asked at length, once he had held me long enough to perhaps regain command of his senses.

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  "Sleep was out of the question. I rose, bathed my head and face in water, and determined that to none but you would I impart this vision. Now, sir, tell me who and what that woman was?"