Jane: A Jane Eyre Retelling

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Jane: A Jane Eyre Retelling Page 8

by Lark Watson


  Once back to my own small space, I lay on my bed, thinking about the night. Wondering what was to come. Worrying about how things might change based on this night of madness.

  And there, wrapped in the luxury of a robe I couldn’t afford with two weeks pay, I drifted to sleep, dreaming of flames and screams and a sick, sad laughter.

  And a man who was sin and temptation wrapped in a soot-stained sheet.

  Chapter 18

  To say I awoke rested and ready for the day in the morning would be a large exaggeration. But, after a fitful few hours of sleep, I rose, wondering what would happen below stairs.

  I made my way to the breakfast table, expecting to find sly looks and hushed whispers of the going ons.

  But, Mrs. Fairfax was as even as usual. Frank stomped into the kitchen, through the dining area, and down into his basement workshop.

  Adelia and Sophie chattered on in broken English.

  It was the most normal of mornings.

  I couldn’t help but study each one. The obvious thought being that perhaps one of these very people had started the fire. The only people I could discount were myself and Mr. Thorneton.

  I waited, expecting to be called in to speak with Mr. Thorneton again.

  But the summons never came.

  Instead, he remained holed up in his office, the doors tightly shut against invaders. I had glanced out my window that morning to find that the French doors too were firmly shut, looking to have been quickly mended from where he had forced them open for our escape the night before.

  Micha had arrived before I even awoke. He must have been the man on the other end of the phone call made last evening. Like Mr. Thorneton, Micha had a presence that made itself felt. The kitchen was aware he’d arrived before I’d even come down.

  When Adelia finished her morning lessons and went off to torment Sophie, I returned to my room, looking to hide away and read while trying to regain my equilibrium.

  When I came back into my room, I couldn’t help but notice the robe hanging from the corner of my bathroom door. I’d have to return that. I would. But, not today.

  I grabbed the book I’d begun the night before and settled into my window seat, again happy to have a bit of routine that made sense.

  But, just as I was beginning to feel myself relax, a noise startled me from the courtyard below.

  Glancing out, I saw Micha pushing the doors back and out of the way. He stood, feet at the edge of the threshold and studied the ground before him. I doubted he’d see anything helpful since Mr. Thorneton and I had stumbled about there before he’d fully come to his senses.

  But, I couldn’t help but allow myself to wonder for the first time exactly what was going on. At breakfast, I’d had to remain neutral, not letting on that I knew anything or suspected that others might as well. I forced the issue from my mind, chatting with Adelia and Sophie to try to keep up a pretense…while expecting something, anything to be revealed later.

  But now, in the quiet of my room, the book couldn’t hold my attention as I pondered the true mystery right here in front of me.

  Someone had tried to kill Mr. Thorneton. And, they’d done a fair job of it between poison and arson. It was dumb luck I’d been awakened and been able to rush to his room. How had I not seen something when I’d gotten up? Had the person gone out the same door Micha studied now?

  I thought over the night again, trying to spot a clue I might have missed. But, nothing. If only I hadn’t dosed off, the mystery would be solved.

  Micha moved about in the courtyard now, looking at the ground, studying footprints, generally looking threatening and suspicious. Not that I could blame him.

  Finally, he walked, head down as if following a trail, to the end of the courtyard where he looked down to the lake below, his gaze landing on the little house and staying there more than a moment too long.

  I doubted it was local kids who broke into the big house, poisoned Mr. Thorneton, and set his bed afire with him in it.

  I also was doubting more heavily now that it was kids who were making a ruckus at the little house.

  I sat, watching Micha stalk about the large, sloping lawn, and wondered—just what was going on at Tower House and would I live through finding out?

  Chapter 19

  Lunch time came sooner than expected. There hadn’t in reality been anything I could do but sit in my room and wonder about all the things that could be going on that I didn’t know about.

  I should have been afraid. It made me question my own sanity that I wasn’t packing my bags and rushing back to the city.

  But, to what?

  Implicitly, I trusted Mr. Thorneton. I knew in my gut that he would keep us safe. He was on guard now. I saw it in the way he stalked across the courtyard earlier that morning, snapping out orders to Micha and taking in everything around the house.

  We were no longer a holiday house—not to the men.

  I made my way down to lunch, not expecting to see Mr. Thorneton and so prepared to have some of my curiosity answered. There was no way Mrs. Fairfax and Frank could ignore everything going on around us now.

  Midway through the meal, I finally worked up the nerve to broach the subject with Mrs. Fairfax.

  “Ma’am?” I started, knowing the fine line I walked after the scolding Adelia had gotten. “I was wondering, is there more family in the area?”

  “What’s that? Whose family?” Mrs. Fairfax glanced up from where she did a crossword puzzle with her sandwich.

  “Mr. Thorneton’s? Should we be expecting them for the holidays?” This seemed the safest way to approach the issue. Mr. Thorneton’s work may be out of bounds of discussion, but you couldn’t question the nanny about wondering if there’d be more guests in the house.

  “Oh, no, dear. Mr. Thorneton’s family is not in the vicinity.”

  Well, that didn’t answer anything specifically.

  “Will we be expected to travel with Adelia?” At this, Sophie’s gaze caught mine. I couldn’t help but wonder what she knew. Perhaps the language barrier had kept her from asking the same questions in the past.

  “No. We’ll be staying here.” Mrs. Fairfax set the crossword aside and sipped at her tea. “I don’t know Mr. Thorneton’s plans yet. We’ll find out when we find out. But…”

  She drew in a breath and I could feel her making the decision of what to share.

  But, after being a member of the household for several months now, I must have earned a bit of trust, so she continued.

  “Mr. Thorneton is not…close to his family.” She paused. I waited. “His father is a very powerful man. His brother works with him in the family business in the city.”

  She said this all as if it were a big secret, but it sounded like the story of many rich families.

  “Mr. Thorneton doesn’t work with them?” It was more a statement than a question because it seemed the obvious step of what she was saying, but I wanted to prod her on.

  “Well, no, dear.” She sipped more tea then nodded, as if she’d come to a decision. “Mr. Thorneton doesn’t really have much to do with his family. He’s had to step away from their business. There was a deep difference of opinion and he couldn’t bear to be part of what he didn’t believe in.”

  As she was talking, the door to Frank’s basement opened and he came in, scowling and wiping his hands on his always present rag. He scowled as he passed through, throwing a frown at Mrs. Fairfax.

  “Didn’t do him any good, now did it? Caught up with the Tempesta girl and sucked back in.”

  “Frank.” It was more of a true scold than I’d heard her give him before. “He saved that girl, sure as you know it.”

  “Sure’nd he did.” Frank shook his head and pushed out the back door, letting a cold sweep of air rush through the kitchen for a moment.

  I waited for Mrs. Fairfax to explain, but she seemed to be out of chit chat.

  I’d considered Googling Mr. Thorneton, but I had the very real feeling that part of the security of
the house was watching our internet usage. There had been a few quick words Micha had had with Mr. Thorneton in the hall about the men coming and going and monitoring their browsing on the home platform. It had been the first time I really wondered what all those businesses were.

  Computers, not my thing, but I wasn’t taking a chance.

  Maybe it was time for me to spend some of my savings on a smartphone. That seemed dumb since I had no one to call. And I wondered if maybe knowing less was a better idea after last night’s events.

  I finished lunch, clearing my plate and thinking I’d check if the library was empty before heading upstairs.

  But, when I turned the corner, Micha was in the front hall. He had the alarm panel propped open and was doing something with tiny tools.

  I felt as if I should tiptoe. There was something about Micha that always felt threatening. Like a caged animal who knows the lock is rusty and one good push would have him free and on his prey…if he wanted.

  I kept to the inside of the hall, walking softly, but his voice caught me as I was stepping through the library threshold.

  “Nanny.”

  I stopped, now as annoyed as nervous.

  “Jane.” He didn’t turn or stop working. “My name is Jane.”

  It was one thing for Mr. Thorneton to call me Nanny. He paid me to be one. But, not this man.

  He paused, straightening as he turned toward me.

  I’d seen him, strutting about alongside Mr. Thorneton and knew he was tall, but as he straightened to his full height, I felt the lack of mine like I hadn’t in some time. I’d become accustom to being around Adelia and Sophie, who, while taller than me, in no way towered. Even Mr. Thorneton’s sense of grandness wasn’t from his height. Not tall by any matter, nor short. Just, Mr. Thorneton. It was from the square, hard strength of him, the way he gazed at you—or through you, the power that seemed innate in his very being. The way he held himself, the way he commanded a room, and the people in it. No. There was nothing small about Mr. Thorneton’s presence.

  And, while Micha was purposefully using his height to put me in my very small place, I knew not to trust that was the only weapon this man had in his arsenal.

  A man like Mr. Thorneton did not employ a man like Micha because he’s afraid of a simple mugging.

  “Jane.” He finally said, as if conceding something to me. “I would like to speak to you. In Thorne’s office.”

  I glanced toward the closed oak doors and wondered if himself was there, wondered if this would be a joint meeting.

  Regardless, it was clear that my presence would be expected either way.

  I nodded, accepting that Micha was going to have his way about this, and followed him into the office, the doors snapping shut behind us as he threw the lock.

  I turned, wondering if I was trapped, but he wasn’t stalking me now. He was staring down the short hall at the bedroom door which rested open.

  It took me a moment to realize his study had shifted to me. I wonder what he took in. Casually dressed, as the rest of the house was when no visitors were expected, I was in my typical dress, a bit more than expected probably, but I’d learned it was better to be slightly better dressed. Where there was not play expected for me with Adelia, today I wore my denim skirt along with a white button down and sweater.

  I wondered what he saw and suspected he saw more than I liked. But there was something about Micha that I recognized as well.

  He was from the same place I was. He wasn’t one of Mr. Thorneton’s rich friends. He was dressed in his fine shirt and his dark slacks, but underneath that and his sharp looks, Micha was a brawler.

  A whip smart one, but still a brawler.

  “Well?” I asked, figuring I might as well put myself on his level instead of letting him set a tone I didn’t want to deal with.

  I knew he represented Mr. Thorneton, so even while I tried to keep my footing as a peer, I knew in the true hierarchy of the house, I was not.

  In my mind, I could see us as if we were two-hundred years before. Instead of reading an Austen novel, for a moment I felt as if I were in one—the below stairs maid called to give a reckoning to the high-and-mighty butler.

  “Miss Byrne,” he began, upping the formality from Jane and the condescension from Nanny. “I understand you were the person who alerted Mr. Thorneton to the fire in his room.”

  I’m sure he was aware of more than that, but falling back on my lessons from childhood, I nodded, letting him ask what he would.

  “And, how was it that you were aware of a fire in a completely different wing of the house?”

  Ah.

  So that was it. Suspicion.

  “My window overlooks the courtyard.”

  “And you just happened to be staring across the courtyard at Thorne’s room when a fire broke out?” He leaned back on the desk, not unlike the way Mr. Thorneton had the night before. Only Micha crossed his arms and stared at me as if he could break me—as if he would.

  “I have a window seat.”

  “And?”

  I watched him watch me. I had nothing to hide, but I’d learned early in life being innocent and being safe were two different things.

  “And?” I echoed him. Only answer the questions asked.

  “And you just happened to be sitting in the window seat when the fire broke out?”

  “I believe so.”

  “You believe so?” Micha’s brow’s lowered and he stood, taking a step toward me. “Ms. Byrne, this would go smoother if you would answer the questions.”

  I stood my ground, my head forced up to meet his gaze head on. “Mr. Micha, I believe I have. Perhaps you should ask better questions.”

  He took a quick step around the chair that separated us, grabbing me by my upper arm.

  “Jane, you’ll tell me what happened last night. Did you set the fire then conveniently save Thorne? Is that your game? To ingratiate yourself and find a place in the household?”

  I jerked my arm—instinct. But didn’t break free.

  “I have a place in the household. I’m the nanny.”

  “I’m trying to figure out if you’re a very stupid girl or a very brave one.”

  I held my tongue. No one made decisions like that by you actually answering the question – and I doubt that he’d believe the answer if I told him.

  “Well?” He shook me, obviously thinking I was being flippant. He had no way to understand that I knew my place. And I’d even come to like it. But—

  “Micha.” We both stilled at the voice behind me. “Release Miss Byrne.”

  Micha’s gaze skipped over to Mr. Thorneton’s, connecting with it. Challenging it. I kept my gaze straight ahead, not letting my scrutiny off my predator.

  Some sort of alpha hierarchy communication darted between them and Micha squeezed my arm one last time before releasing me and taking a step back.

  Mr. Thorneton came around from behind me, keeping his eyes on Micha.

  “I thought I was clear about this.” The steel of Mr. Thorneton’s tone surprised me. I expected Micha to crumble underneath the harshness of it, steel sliding across sandpaper.

  “You were.” The man wasn’t giving his boss an inch.

  I was more interested in the power play darting between them than the bruise I could feel rising on my arm.

  “Out,” Mr. Thorneton jerked his head toward the door and I rushed to make my way to the relative safety of the hall. “Not you. Jane, remain here.”

  Micha gave me one last look before pivoting and stalking out the door.

  Once the door was shut, I waited, trying to figure out my role in this—wondering about the true relationship between these men.

  Mr. Thorneton strode across the room, stopping just short of me and lifting my arm for his inspection. His frown deepened as he looked at the finger bruises already peeking out from beneath my sleeve.

  “Jane.” He sighed, a heavy sound that echoed through my soul, recognizing his emotional exhaustion from times of livi
ng in that place myself. “Are you hurt?”

  Even as I felt the pinpoint ache of the bruises, I answered, “No, sir.”

  His hand traveled up from the bruising on my arm to wrap around the back of my neck, pulling me almost to him and setting all the nerves running from there down my spine on fire.

  “You answer only to me.” He lowered his voice, gravel raking across cinder. “Do you understand? Only to me.”

  I felt the shiver rush down my spine. “Yes, sir.”

  He glowered at me, annoyance and something else almost overwhelming him, before pushing me away.

  “Go.”

  I stood a moment longer, just wanting more. Wanting more of him.

  He lifted his head, looked at me sidewise from under that dark fall of hair. “Go!”

  I rushed from the room, sliding past Micha and not worrying about the look he gave me as I sprinted up the stairs, the feel of Mr. Thorneton’s hand gripping me left me tingling with heat and something else.

  In my room, I collapsed on my bed and wished to be called back. Wished to be commanded into his presence again.

  Instead, I sat, watching the sun set on the early evening and waiting until dinner in hopes of seeing him again.

  Chapter 20

  To my great surprise Mr. Thorneton was still at Tower House the next day.

  It had come to seem to me that every time I grew near him in any small way, every time something occurred, he disappeared. He was a man who never was what or where I expected him to be.

  But, come morning, when I expected silence and authority to fill the space where the man himself had been, Mr. Thorneton stood.

  Or, more precisely, Micha stood.

  The day was waning and the sun was lower than I liked on the horizon. Autumn was a favorite time of mine, but it led to winter and I’d never been outside the city during winter. I couldn’t help but wonder what they did with all the snow out here.

 

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