by Luccia Gray
“Yes, I was adopted, Mrs. Mason, like my four cousins. My parents were not able to have children. My aunt, Mrs. Banks, looked after abandoned children in London. I was one of them. I gather you thought your missing daughter was also in her care. Now I understand your distress when I told you she was dead.”
“I had no idea. When did your parents tell you?”
“Never. My aunt told me while I was at St. Thomas’s hospital. My parents told me I had been a gift from God because my mother had given birth to me when she was fifty–two years old.”
“The first time I saw you, you must have been about ten years old. Your father brought you to play with John who was a few years younger. You were such a shy and serious boy, and John was too lively and boisterous. I am afraid you did not get on very well, so you didn’t return to play. I never saw you again until last year. Your father spoke very fondly and proudly of you.”
“My mother doesn’t know I am aware of my adoption. I see no benefit in upsetting her by telling her the truth.”
“Yes, the truth can be a dangerous weapon indeed.”
“Mrs. Mason, I believe you have taken the right path in telling Adele, Annette, and John the truth. It is their responsibility to accept its implications. They will recover from the shock.”
“I hope so. Tell me, are you planning to stay in this area?”
“I won’t be leaving for the moment. I cannot abandon my mother, and she would not live anywhere else. In the future, I might consider moving back to London.”
“We will miss you if you leave.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Mason. There is a matter I have been meaning to discuss with you for some time. I would like to marry. Not right away, but in the future, I would like to have my own family.”
“I am sure you will find a suitable wife, in time.”
“I have.” She looked surprised. “I mean I have found the woman I would wish to be my wife.”
She surveyed me closely. “Are you in love with anyone I know, Dr. Carter?”
“Miss Annette Mason.”
She was speechless. Her silence alarmed me. If she didn’t approve, I had no chance.
“Mrs. Mason, I know I am no match for Miss Mason. I have no right to expect that such a wonderful lady should even consider marrying me, but I am besotted.”
“But you hardly know her.”
“I have known her for over six months. I have not thought of anything else since the first time I saw her. She greeted me in the drawing room, when I was called to Eyre Hall at the end of June, due to one of Nell’s coughs. She was like an apparition. I have never seen a more beautiful woman before or since. I think about her every day.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“Not on those terms. I dared not proceed without your consent, or at least without knowing your opinion.”
“It seems to me she is not inclined to marriage at the moment.”
“With respect, Mrs. Mason, she is not young. I mean she has not had a coming out, and she is past the age to have one. She cannot remain, I mean, such a beautiful woman, should not remain unmarried. She will have beautiful children.”
“Dr. Carter! You have already thought of having children with Annette?”
“Please forgive my boldness, but I fear if I do not approach her, someone else will.”
“I promised Annette I would never impose a husband she did not approve of. She will make her own decision.”
“But she trusts and respects you.”
“I will not influence her, but I give you permission to court her. You must approach her yourself and tell her of your feelings. She knows I think highly of you. I will not oppose your courtship.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Mason, but I require your help.”
“What kind of help?”
“I would like to spend more time with Miss Mason. I want her to know me and to know more about my profession. I believe she is already interested in my work at the hospital.”
“Proceed.”
“I know she has kind inclinations and I have heard her say that she would like to occupy part of her time doing some social work. She said she was interested in teaching, and she is fond of children, so I thought that if she could spend some time with me at the hospital at Millcote, in the children’s ward, perhaps teaching them to read and write, we could spend more time together.”
“She would like to keep busy. A few days at the hospital might be a good idea. It will be very quiet here once everyone leaves.” She stopped to think and then added, “Very well, if you bring up the conversation, I will encourage her to accompany you to the hospital and see what work can be done there. The rest is up to you.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Mason.”
“I must warn you that she may love, or think she loves, another person.”
“Mrs. Mason, I assure you I love her enough for the two of us. I will win her love.”
“You said you fell in love with her at first sight; if she has not fallen in love with you already, are you sure love can grow?”
“Yes, I am. Aren’t you?”
“Perhaps you are right, Dr. Carter. You are a good man. I wish you luck, but promise me you will be patient and good to Annette.”
“I love her. I will wait for her to love me.”
“I hope you’re fortunate. I wouldn’t like to see either of you hurt.” She sighed. “It is indeed joyful to be surrounded by couples who are in love. Eyre Hall was in need of happiness. I hope to fill the house with love and children. It has been sad and solemn for too long.”
She drifted into the daydreaming mode I had come to recognise, so I stood to leave. As I walked to the door, she spoke.
“Perhaps Ferndean could do with some renovation. I will send the architect to evaluate what could be done to make it more comfortable for you and your mother. Please give her my regards.”
I thanked her and left, full of hope and optimism.
***
Chapter XXV – More Secrets Unveiled
Mrs. Mason came down to my drawing room, an event that occurred more rarely than a blue moon. I wondered if something grave had happened, yet again.
“Leah, I would like to discuss some household matters with you. Do you have time now?”
“Of course, Mrs. Mason. I will tell Beth to bring us some tea.”
She nodded amiably and made herself comfortable by the hearth.
“How are you coping with all the extra work?” she asked.
“Very well, madam. The new staff are excellent workers. Claire, Cook’s new help, is making life much easier for her. She is cooking four times as much food for the workers. I’m afraid they will never finish if we feed them so well.”
“Then she must stop cooking so well, because I want it all finished before Christmas.” Her spirits were high lately, in spite of the solitude of Eyre Hall.
John had returned to Oxford. Adele, Mr. Greenwood, Dante and Susan had travelled to London. Only Annette and Michael remained. I had never liked Michael or his high and mighty sister, Susan. I found them too ambitious for their station in life, and I was obviously right. They had both bettered their positions well beyond their expectations, causing havoc as they did so.
“How is Christy?” Mrs. Mason enquired. Her concern seemed genuine, although she had not asked about any of the servants for over a year, since she had left the housekeeping to Miss Mason.
“She seems much recovered. She is helping in the kitchen, but she still refuses to go out of the door. She won’t leave the house under any circumstances.”
“Dr. Carter said we should be patient. Let’s hope he is right. At least she is sleeping, eating, and working, at last. That is a start.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Poor girl. Please let me know if there are any changes in her behaviour.”
She stared at me gravely. “I wish you had told me about Mr. Mason’s misconduct.”
“I didn’t wish to trouble you, madam. Jenny did not object, neither did Beth, at first, but matters spira
lled in a few days on his last visit. He had lost interest in Jenny, Beth was attached to Simon, and Christy could not comply. I thought I could handle the matter without bothering you, but I was wrong.”
“I trust you to run the household efficiently, Leah, you have always done so, but I wish to be informed of any personal problems below stairs in the future, please.”
“Of course, madam.”
We drank our tea in silence, and I was wondering what she had really come to say, because she seemed to have no intention of leaving yet.
“Leah, you are the only person I know who is still alive and was at Thornfield Hall before I arrived.”
“That is so, as far as I know Mrs. Mason.”
“There is a private matter I would wish to discuss with you.” I nodded.
“I would like you to tell me about the men who entered Thornfield Hall as guests, or visitors, in the months prior to my arrival. Specifically in August.”
“Twenty–three years ago, madam?”
“Yes, Leah. Was Mr. Rochester at home in August 1843, twenty–three years ago?”
“Let me think. I started working at Thornfield Hall in 1840, when I was ten. I could hardy read. Good Mrs. Fairfax taught me. Mr. Rochester was very rarely in residence. I remember 1843 because it was the year Adele came, and shortly after you arrived. It was our last year at Thornfield before the fire. Mr. Rochester had returned from France. It was a short visit. He informed Mrs. Fairfax that he would soon be bringing a child to Thornfield, his ward. He came back with Adele and Sophie a month later, in September, and later Mrs. Fairfax advertised. Then you arrived in October.”
“Could you think back his first visit, in August, before he returned with Adele and Sophie? Who stayed at Thornfield Hall?”
I hesitated, wondering where this strange conversation was leading us. “I’m not sure I remember. It was a long time ago.”
“Try, Leah. Please. Close your eyes, and think. Remember the house, the kitchen, and the bedrooms. When Mr. Rochester was home, there were guests, and parties. Surely, you would remember them.”
“Yes, there was a party. A group of friends came to stay. They were noisy and unruly. I remember Grace Poole spent the night with me, because she was told to get out of the attic.”
“The guests went into the attic?”
“I didn’t see them. I never went up there, but they must have. Grace was frightened of them. She said they were rowdy and drunk, and wanted to poke the lunatic, for fun.”
“So of course, you all knew about Bertha, didn’t you?” I nodded. “I must have seemed so naïve.”
“We pretended not to know, but Grace would tell us all about her when she was merry, which was more often than not, as I remember.”
“Who were the guests?”
“I am afraid I don’t remember.”
“Please try harder, Leah. Close your eyes again. Go back to that night and try to see them. It will come to you.”
“Well, I remember there were no ladies on that occasion, because the ladies always made more work for us, or brought an array of noisy maids. Lord Ingram and Sir George Lynn must have come. Let me think.” I tried to visualise the occasion. “Yes, they came, and Dr. Carter was there, but I think he had come to see the lunatic. I don’t remember how long the doctor stayed, but he wasn’t here the next morning. He never stayed overnight at Thornfield.”
“Anyone else?”
“Mr. Briggs was there too.”
“And Mr. Cooper?”
“No, not Mr. Cooper. I met him years later, at Eyre Hall. The others were frequent visitors.”
“Lord Egham?”
“No. Lord Egham and Colonel Dent never visited without their wives.”
“So, there were no women?”
“None on that occasion,” I said and Mrs. Mason sighed.
“They’re all dead, except Mr. Briggs.”
I swayed gently on my rocking chair in an effort to evoke more memories.
“I remember they drank too much and had an argument the next evening.”
“Strange you should remember that, Leah.”
“I remember because I had to clean up the drawing room. They had thrown wine glasses and decanters all over the room. They must have had a big disagreement.”
“Who had the disagreement with Mr. Rochester?”
“Most of them left after lunch. I remember John, the coachman complaining. There had been a thunderstorm, which had damaged one of the best coaches.”
“When was the disagreement?”
“It must have been in the evening. We were in bed and saw the mess in the morning.”
Suddenly I remembered another familiar face. “I have just remembered someone else who was there. I had forgotten about Archbishop Templar. Of course he was only archdeacon at that time. Much later, he replaced the bishop he was working for and became bishop himself.”
“Archbishop Templar?”
“The very same. He used to visit occasionally. I am almost certain he left the next day. He must have had the dispute with Mr. Rochester.”
“Mr. Rochester strikes again with more secrets,” she whispered.
“Mrs. Rochester, you must know that from the moment he met you he was a different man.”
“For a time, Leah. Only for a time.”
“Men like him are difficult to tie down forever. They are free spirits.”
“Perhaps,” she said and drifted into deep thought.
“Mrs. Rochester, am I right in assuming that you believe that one of those men may be Annette’s father?”
“You are.”
“May I ask the purpose of this discovery? I mean, without proof, will you ask him to fulfil his obligations?”
“I am not sure what I will do. I think I ought to try to find out who it is, or could be, and if I am sure, and not before, I’ll inform Annette. What happens after is unknown at present. Mr. Briggs is an old man. He may welcome the chance to put his mind at ease and rest in peace.”
“He may deny it ever happened.”
“Of course he could, but he might repent and wish to unburden himself by telling me the truth. But the archbishop, I cannot believe he also knew about my husband’s secrets, and even took part in such shameful entertainment.” She shook her head.
I did not see any advantage in reopening Pandora’s Box once more and disclosing any more of the Rochester secrets, but Mrs. Mason seemed determined to do so, yet again.
***
Chapter XXVI – John’s Decision
My conversation with Bishop Templar had been pacifying and rewarding. I had always considered him as a second father, or the grandfather I never had. The advice he had generously bestowed on me since my school days had always been beneficial. At that moment, he was the only person who had not failed me. There was no one I respected more in this world. Thankfully, he listened patiently and understood my plight, placating my anger and helping me remember the goodness in my father, who had so often been tempted by the devil in the women he had met.
“Don’t believe their blasphemy, son. Your father was a good man. I cannot imagine what possessed him to leave a Bible in the child’s coffin, but I’d wager he did so because it was deformed. Probably the work of the devil. Your father wanted to spare your mother the vision of the aberration, and he, quite rightly, refused to allow the malformed remains to rest in your family crypt.”
I decided to follow his advice to pretend that I had come to understand my mother’s decision. Her infatuation, which was obviously the devil’s work, was a manifestation of her madness, and would no doubt be her downfall and the ruin of the Rochester Estate if I did not put a halt to it. I had no choice but to have her confined in a madhouse, and legally dispossessed of Eyre Hall and the Rochester estate before her wedding.
The archbishop promised he would initiate the legal and canonical process for my mother’s incapacitation immediately. He warned me it would take some months. He suggested I should leave England, for a time, so that I w
ould not have to witness my mother’s shameful debauchery in the meantime. He was confident that he had enough influence to guarantee our success and make sure her abominable and sacrilegious marriage never took place.
I was not contented with his proposal, at first. “Is there no other solution, Archbishop? I cannot bear to think of my mother in an asylum.”
“Leave it all to me. Mr. Poole, whose mother used to work for your father, is Chief Warden at Grimsby Retreat now. He will make sure she is well looked after. I have no doubt that she will be brought to her senses.”
“I trust it will be for only for a short time, until she realises her folly. Once she’s away we’ll throw Michael out.”
“Exactly, son. And the estate will be in your hands entirely.”
On my return from Bishopthorpe Palace, I asked my mother meekly if she would allow me to apologise.
“Michael, I would like to apologise for my behaviour. I should not have struck you when you were not retaliating. It was cowardly.”
“I have taken no offence Master John. I engaged freely in the fight. It was my decision not to strike back.”
“Michael,” interrupted my foolish mother, “I must insist you do not address my son as Master John. You will address him as John if he addresses you as Michael, and Mr. Rochester if he addresses you as Mr. Kirkpatrick.”
“Of course, Mother. I should have said so myself. Michael, please address me as John, just John. Although I think we will not be seeing very much of each other in the future.”
She looked questioningly at me. “I mean because Michael will be going to sea, and I will be returning to Oxford.”
“Eyre Hall is your home. I hope you will not avoid coming here once I am married. There is room for all of us.”
“I suppose I should congratulate you on that account, both of you, I mean. I wish you happiness.” I bit my tongue.
“Thank you.”
“Nevertheless, I haven’t changed my mind. I do not approve of your marriage. I do not think you are well suited, but of course, that is my opinion. I have made some incorrect decisions and comments lately, so I may be wrong again. On the other hand, you do not need my approval, so it matters very little.”