Zenith (The Thornfield Affair Book 3)

by Amity Cross

  “Jane!” she cried. “What’s happening?”

  “You must get outside,” I replied. “Go at once! Thornfield is ablaze.”

  Bessie appeared at my side, dressed in her nightgown and slippers, and coaxed Alice forward.

  Edward guided us all through the rear of the house and out through the kitchens, which were untouched by the flames. He lingered by the door, making sure everyone had arrived safely before he too followed.

  Out here, the air was clear, and I breathed deeply, ridding my lungs of the small amount of smoke I’d inhaled. We moved around the house and down the driveway toward the main gates.

  We were a ragtag group of people lingering by the lane, all dressed in our pajamas and dressing gowns. Around me, the staffs’ pale faces all stared up at Thornfield behind us, their expressions full of fear and despair. I was terrified to look, already knowing what I would find when I did.

  Edward did a quick head count, and when he saw Grace standing apart from the group, shivering in her cotton shift and bare feet, he grasped her shoulder and spun her to face him, his expression pure thunder. “Grace, where is Bertha?”

  She shook her head, looking bewildered. “I don’t know. She wasn’t in her room. Sir, I’m sorry! I…”

  He wrinkled his nose and practically shook her in his fury. “You’re drunk? You let her slip past you?”

  “Sir, I…” Tears began to spill down her cheeks.

  “All those times she escaped?” he asked, his jaw tensing. “You let her? I suppose you were the one who let Blanche…” He trailed off as understanding hit him, then he let his anger take him fully. “She could have killed me! She nearly killed Jane!”

  I strode forward and pushed between them, forcing Edward’s hands to fall away. “Leave her be,” I demanded. “Now is not the time.”

  He blinked and stepped back, his gaze turning to Thornfield the same moment mine did. The wind had picked up, and it twisted around the burning mass, fanning the flames and twisting them higher. The sound of the building being devoured was impossible to describe. It was a loud roar, paired with the creaks and groans as support beams were compromised. It was as if the spirit of the old house had risen up from the bowels of Hell itself and was let loose on the world.

  I guided Grace away from Edward, pushing away my own feelings of anger at her actions. Laying blame while the house still burned was premature and would serve no one. The heat was unbearable even at this distance, and it only added to our combined fear.

  “You didn’t tell him…” she whispered, her shoulders heaving with hysterical sobs.

  I shook my head as I transferred her into the arms of the groundskeeper. “Calm yourself, Grace. What’s done is done.”

  “The fire engines are coming from the village,” Alice said, holding her mobile phone. “And an ambulance.”

  “Is everyone accounted for?” I asked Edward as he appeared at my side.

  “All but Bertha.” His hand grasped mine.

  I stared up at Thornfield and could hardly grasp what I saw before me. The fire had taken hold of the structure, and it was turning into a raging inferno. The flames licked greedily at the ancient building, devouring it whole. Smoke billowed up into the sky, obscuring the stars above.

  The fire trucks would take at least twenty minutes to get here if they were going full speed, and by that time, it would be too late to save much of anything. Thornfield would be destroyed.

  The thought of being trapped inside while we slept soundly in our beds horrified me completely. To think if I had not woken when I did! Bertha must have been running about the halls, lighting everything in her path and leaving nothing untouched. The fire was so well established…there was no telling how long it had burned before I’d gotten up to investigate.

  “It’s all gone,” Edward murmured. “Everything… It’s…”

  “Shh,” I soothed him. “We’re still here, Edward. We have our lives. Houses can be rebuilt.”

  “You don’t understand,” he began but was silenced as a commotion erupted back toward Thornfield.

  “There! On the battlements!” Alice cried, pointing skyward.

  We looked, all of us gasping in shock, for against the flames stood the silhouette of Bertha Mason, for it could be no other. Her long hair streamed behind her in the updraft, her cotton shift billowing around her legs, and her arms were outstretched as if she was begging the sky to take her. It was a picture of pure madness!

  “She intends to jump!” Bessie exclaimed, clutching onto Alice’s arm. “God, help her!”

  Edward’s grip on my hand tightened, and all at once, he let go, rushing toward the hotel, which was well ablaze.

  “Edward!” I yelled, my heart leaping into my chest. “Edward!”

  But he wasn’t listening. I went to rush forward, but strong arms grasped my arms, holding me in place.

  “No, you must stay, Miss Jane,” said the groundskeeper. “Sir knows what he’s doing.”

  I watched in horror as Edward raced through the front entrance and into the manor beyond, straight into the flaming maw of the devil.

  A loud crack split the air as part of the structure collapsed somewhere inside the building, and I almost fell to my knees. Edward was in there! Why did he have to go back… Even as I thought it, I understood he had made a promise to Bertha despite the despair she’d wrought on him and his family. He’d vowed to protect her even as she burned down the house around him.

  “Edward!” I shrieked, tears streaming unchecked down my face. “Edward!”

  “There!” Bessie cried. “On the roof!”

  I stared up at the battlements and sobbed again at the sight of Edward against the glowing sky. Please, don’t let this be the last time I see him!

  He was shouting at Bertha, but the inferno tore the words from his lips, making it impossible to hear what was happening. She turned and stared at him, still as a statue. She neither flung herself over the edge nor did she approach Edward’s outstretched arms.

  He continued to beckon to her while we all watched on. I wasn’t sure what outcome I wished for Bertha at that moment. All I wanted was Edward back in my arms, safe and whole. We deserved to be happy, to be safe and calm after such turbulent seas. We deserved it!

  Abruptly, Bertha let out an unearthly wail that split through the roar of the blaze and the sounds of the approaching fire engines from the village. It unsettled me to my core, the sound reminding me of the night when she’d attacked her own brother. Madness. Complete and utter madness.

  Then she leapt into the sky and fell. Down, down, down…

  21

  I watched in open-mouthed horror as Bertha fell through the air.

  For a long moment, it seemed as if time slowed down, then, all at once, it sped up. She collided with the ground, her limbs flopping like a rag doll, her head smacking the gravel with a crack that could be heard over the roar of the flames.

  There were cries of horror all around me as I stared at the broken body of Bertha Mason. She’d just split apart like a soft fruit… I swallowed hard as my stomach rolled, then my gaze went back to the roof.

  Edward was gone, but he wasn’t emerging from the house. I waited a full minute, blocking out everything else around me, but still, he did not appear.

  He’d rushed into that house to save the woman who was the cause of so much pain to him. He wanted to save her despite the things her affliction had caused her to do. He could not leave her. I wasn’t sure if it was his own kind of madness that caused him to go in there, but I knew I had a duty to him, as well.

  I ran after the failed wedding when I should have stayed. I cast him aside when he said he might not be able to love me completely. I was a fool. I allowed my own self-righteousness to tear us apart. He was my one true love…

  He was my one true love, and I could not leave him.

  Without a second thought, I ran forward, my boots thudding heavily on the ground as I sprinted toward Thornfield, driven by some unknown force. I’
d always felt spirits haunted this place long past, and perhaps that was what gave me the energy to face my fear when I most needed it. I’d acknowledged their presence and paid homage to them time and time again, and now they were helping me. Or perhaps it was just my love for Edward that drove me to rush headlong into what could only be described as certain death.

  Or perhaps we were all a little mad deep down.

  “Jane!” Alice shrieked behind me. “Jane!”

  I didn’t listen. I was beyond it, my feet driven by a supernatural force I hardly understood.

  I burst into the main gallery, ducking low as I entered. Smoke was everywhere, obscuring my vision and clogging my lungs. I coughed even as I drew in breath attempting to fill my lungs with pure, clean air, but I could not find any.

  “Edward!” I yelled. “Edward!”

  All around was orange, the heat unbearable as the flames bore down on me.

  “Jane!”

  My heart soared as I saw Edward at the top of the stairs, but my hope was short-lived as I realized half the structure had collapsed, cutting him off from his escape.

  “Edward!” I cried. “You must jump!”

  “Get outside,” he pleaded. “Please, Jane, I cannot lose you.”

  “And I cannot lose you!” I almost stamped my foot in a temper. “Now, for goodness sake, jump!”

  He eased himself off the edge, dipping under the broken banister. Grasping the edge, he lowered his body gently toward the ground floor, but it would still be a fair drop. He dangled, steeling himself, then let go.

  His feet hit the ground hard, and his knees buckled. Overhead, a burning beam began to splinter, and he glanced up in a panic, attempting to right himself before it came down upon him, but it was too late.

  The beam cracked, and in a shower of sparks, it fell. It struck Edward, causing him to fall heavily on his back.

  I cried out, my heart thudding painfully in my chest, and moved further into the flames to find him. We were so close to freedom…

  As the smoke billowed and cleared some, I saw him on the floor. He wasn’t pinned by the structure, but he seemed to be either dazed or unconscious. Either way, he wasn’t moving.

  At that moment, I didn’t think. I couldn’t lest I crumble in fear and burn beside my love. In a burst of fear-induced adrenaline, I rushed forward and grasped his legs, using all my strength to drag him clear of the flames. I couldn’t wait for help as no one was coming inside the building now, not even the firefighters. It was up to me to get us out of here. Plain, little Jane Eyre.

  Smoke filled my lungs, burning them from the inside, and I fell beside him, coughing uncontrollably. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t have enough strength to get him outside.

  “Edward!” I yelled, shaking him. “You must get up! Please!”

  He moaned, and when his head lolled to the side, I saw the extent of the damage the beam had done when it had struck him.

  The left side of his face was blistered, his eye half open and red…

  “Edward!” I screeched, trying to pull him up. “Get up! Get up!”

  “Jane?” he muttered as I tugged him into a sitting position.

  Grasping his shoulders, I shook him violently. “Get up, Edward Rochester, or we’re both going to die!”

  It seemed to work. His eyes flew open, his left was bloodshot, and he pushed to his feet with a grunt pain. Hope seared through my veins, and I flung his arm over my shoulder and carried as much of his weight as I could manage as we began to shuffle through the burning shell of Thornfield as it crumbled around us.

  Edward had done most of the work by getting to the gallery from the eaves, so there was not much farther to go. It was a stroke of luck in an otherwise treacherous story, and I was glad for it. Our fight had not been for nothing, for it had given us the power to face this disaster head on. We did not cower in the face of adversity. We went on because we had to. It was that simple.

  The moment we stepped through the entrance, the support wall collapsed, showering us in a spray of sparks that pricked painfully against my bare legs, and I propelled us forward with a final burst of power.

  We emerged into the night, and as oxygen filled my starved lungs, I began to cough violently. We kept going, working our way toward the wall of fire trucks that had appeared, and finally, Edward stumbled, and we fell to the ground, gravel digging into my flesh. He rolled onto his back with a moan, and I scrambled to his side, vaguely aware that cool water from an array of fire hoses was misting down over us.

  “Edward…”

  In the flashing red and blue light from the fire trucks, I could see his face clearly, and I almost burst into tears. He was burned quite badly—the beam had struck him across the left side of his face, and his flesh was completely seared. His eyes were flaring red, blood oozing from his wounds. The pain he must be in…

  “Jane…” he rasped, reaching out for me. “Jane.”

  “They’re safe,” I said, clutching his hand in mine. “They’re all here.”

  “Bertha,” he muttered, his gaze fixing on mine. “She…”

  I shook my head gently, knowing I’d never forget the sight of her falling from the battlements…then striking the ground.

  “There was nothing to be done,” I said gently. “She’s gone.”

  Hands appeared on my shoulder as unknown faces pulled us apart, and I fought against them, never wanting to leave Edward’s side again. Gentle voices coaxed me into the back of an ambulance, the bright lights drowning out the night as an oxygen mask was placed over my face. I watched the chaos outside as water was blasted over the fire and people were rushed to safety.

  A gurney appeared at my side bearing Edward, his face raw and bleeding, and I began to feel sick at the sight of his injuries. He was unconscious now, though his chest rose and fell with his ragged breathing. I was completely numb as the door closed, and the siren began to wail, the ambulance carrying us toward the hospital at breakneck speed.

  Staring out the back windows at the skyline, I couldn’t see the stars at all. The universe was dull, drowned out by the destruction we’d left behind. The moor was silent, the only sound for miles was the wailing of sirens, and in the distance, Thornfield continued to burn.

  I found Edward’s hand and held it tightly. There was nothing we could do now. Nothing at all.

  22

  I remembered this hospital quite clearly.

  The blue linoleum floor, the powder blue walls, the scent of stale disinfectant, and the chattering of doctors and nurses as they rushed up and down the halls. The dull beeping of medical equipment echoed from the doorway opposite as I leaned against the wall, watching the comings and goings of the little self-serving world that was the York General Hospital.

  I’d lain here for a week after I’d been attacked by Bertha and had come to know the little idiosyncrasies of the place. Now after the same amount of time spent at Edward’s bedside after the fire, I’d come to know a different side of the hospital altogether.

  We’d all been treated for smoke inhalation, and to the doctor’s chagrin, I’d stubbornly sat at Edward’s bedside, hooked up to oxygen of my own.

  The following morning, people from the village had begun to show up at the hospital with flowers and gifts, bringing us all changes of clothing and offering to take in anyone who needed a place to stay. Everyone was cared for in the wake of the fire, but I still refused to leave Edward’s side. The next day, he was to be moved to a hospital in London where his burns could be treated by specialists, but for now, we lingered in the small facility in York under the watchful eye of our old friend Dr. Carter.

  Before we left, Alice came to visit, though she was reluctant to look upon Edward in bed, having only ever seen him as the powerful master of Thornfield. She looked well, though she was troubled over her immediate future and that of mine it seemed.

  “You look tired, Jane,” she said as we sought refuge in the hall. “Have you gone outside for some fresh air?”

  I shook
my head. “No. I hardly know where to go. I fear I’d walk outside, stare at the world, turn around, and come right back.”

  “Where would you like to go?” she asked, knowing I hadn’t left the hospital, let alone slept or eaten. “The cafe perhaps? Or a turn around the village? We can go together.”

  We were lingering in the hallway, and my gaze flickered back to the door to Edward’s room. There was only one place I wanted to see, and I hardly understood it myself.

  “Thornfield,” I said. “Take me to Thornfield.”

  She hesitated, a worried look appearing on her face “Are you sure?”

  “I know what I will find, Alice,” I said, this time, stepping into the doorway so I could see Edward, who still lay prone in his bed. “But I need to see it with my own eyes. I need to close the final chapter of Thornfield once and for all.”

  “It’s a long trip,” she said, attempting to dissuade me. “Are you sure you want to be away for that long?”

  I nodded. “Edward will understand.”

  That was how I found myself in a hire car with Alice behind the wheel, driving us through the city and out across the moors.

  On the way, I phoned Mr. Briggs and asked for his assistance in setting up some sort of fund to assist the villagers who’d taken the clothes off their backs to help the staff of Thornfield. It was my first good deed with the money I’d inherited, and I was sure it would be far from the last.

  Two days had passed since the fire engulfed the hotel, and as I stood on the gravel driveway, my heart stopped beating.

  A wasteland was before me, the foundations and brickwork a crumbling ruin. The grand facade, the oak staircases, the art and tapestries, the gilded antique furniture, the dining room and kitchens, the library with Edward’s mother’s books…it was nothing but a pile of charred ash. Hundreds of years of irreplaceable history was gone in the space of a few hours.

  Thornfield was completely destroyed. Nothing could be salvaged from the wreckage other than a handful of bricks from the Tudor wing. The roses were gone, eaten away by the flames, the garden singed and burned in places, but the moor stood green, surrounding the blackened earth I now stood upon.