by Amity Cross
“Where has the terrifying Mr. Rochester gone?” I asked breathlessly.
Edward smiled, and I beheld the change in him so clearly I could scarcely believe it had come to pass. The gloomy, arrogant man had all but disappeared and in his place…
“He has been spirited away,” he replied.
Casting a glance over his shoulder into the hall behind the marble bust, he decided we were alone and drew me in for a kiss. His lips were soft against mine, and when his tongue delved, I felt him steal the last of my breath, but all too soon we parted.
“Tonight,” he whispered. “Come after your party, or steal away during if you can manage it. I’ll be waiting for you, Jane.”
His fingers disengaged from mine, and he stepped around the bust, continuing on his path through Thornfield, leaving me to tremble in his wake, such was his effect on my very being.
When I had gathered my wits, and my heart had calmed, I emerged and descended the stairs, crossed the gallery, and entered reception where I found Alice tapping away at her computer. I saw the unmistakable blue menu bar and knew she’d been wiling away her newfound freedom on Facebook. Smiling, I announced myself by opening the door all the way, so it thudded against the wall.
“Jane,” Alice said as she glanced up. “You look feverish. Are you well?”
I nodded, sinking into my chair. “I’m fine. Bessie just dismissed me!”
She laughed and shook her head. “You got out of housekeeping duties. Count yourself lucky!”
“She told me there’s going to be a party tonight.”
“Oh, yes,” she replied with a bright smile. “Nothing formal or anything. Just the usual dinnertime but with more booze and an elevated noise level.”
“Sounds nice.” I glanced at the ceiling where I knew a few floors above the library sat.
“Rocky won’t mind,” Alice declared, sensing what I wanted to say. “We’re not costing him any money since it’s all just leftover food, and the alcohol is BYO. Besides, Thornfield is empty, and his rooms are on the other side of the house. He won’t hear a thing.”
“Then I’m looking forward to it,” I said, already knowing we’d have no trouble from the master of the house. The ruse was still alive and well.
I busied myself with cleaning out the chaos on my usually ordered desk, tossing papers that weren’t needed and bringing out the file on the artist retreat, which was Thornfield’s next major event. I knew I’d work more efficiently with a little more structure and simplicity.
“You and Rocky seem to get along well,” Alice said, fishing for some gossip now that her main source had departed.
I stilled slightly before wondering what she’d noticed. We’d been so careful.
I shrugged. “I suppose we do now.”
“You seem to be a favorite of his,” she mused.
“Truthfully, I do not know much about him,” I said in an attempt to turn the conversation around so I could learn more about the elusive Edward Rochester. “We talk some when it takes his fancy, but I never learn a thing about him. It’s quite frustrating.”
“It’s odd, you know,” Alice commented. “That he talks to you. He rarely talks to anyone, and when he does, it’s to bark an order.”
“I suppose it is. I’ve come to tolerate his whims,” I replied. “I have you to thank for preparing me!”
She sat up in her chair, her eyes lighting up. “Perhaps it was the night he came off his motorcycle on the road. You stood up to him—in ignorance of his person—and you didn’t hold back.”
I’d all but forgotten that lonely night on the road to the village. I’d been escaping the oppressive gloom of Thornfield for a little excitement, and as it turned out, I’d gotten a great deal more than I’d bargained for. What a strange trigger to all of the things that had happened since.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “We had a strange introduction.”
“I think so.”
I ran my fingers over the keyboard in front of me, my mind going over the things I wished I knew about Edward and sieved through them to find the simplest lest I raise Alice’s suspicions. Considering the things I did know about him, it was a wonder my cheeks didn’t heat!
“Alice?” I asked. “What kind of business does Mr. Rochester do? Is it all properties like Thornfield?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Why?”
I shrugged. “I don’t mind talking to him, but he’s fond of riddles, and that’s all he seems to have time for. I’ve realized I don’t know the simplest things about him.”
Alice thought for a moment, then said, “He keeps himself hidden, that’s for sure. In all the years I’ve known him, he’s been closed. Next to his brother, he would easily be passed over. He is quiet and thoughtful whereas his brother was loud and charismatic.” She sighed and shook her head as if she was clearing away a memory. “As for his business, it’s mostly property and finance. Investing in primary industries and technology, those kinds of things. I don’t know too much about it to be honest.”
“It sounds rather complicated,” I mused. Complicated was a very Edward trait.
“My brain hurts just thinking about it,” Alice replied with a laugh.
“So his business is located in Europe? Is that why he goes away so much?”
She nodded, her eyes beginning to glaze over as she lost interest in the conversation. I suppose it wasn’t scandalous enough, but I’d learned a great deal about the mysterious Edward Rochester. He’d always been brooding and secret—most likely a pale second to his charismatic brother in his family’s eyes—and had a mind as sharp as a diamond. To conduct business on the scale he did, in property and startups, he’d have to have quite a refined skill in analytics.
I pondered this as the day wore on, my body humming in anticipation of the night to come. I fidgeted at dinner, but the party the staff threw in celebration of their newfound freedom was a welcome distraction, and no one noticed how on edge I’d become.
Alice took it upon herself to pile drinks on me—bourbon, scotch, and an assortment of cocktails she declared I needed to experience—and I fell under the spell of the frivolity before long. It was a strange sensation for me to be included so fully. I was so accustomed to my solitary ramblings that this family around me was alien at best. I didn’t know how to act or feel, or even what to say.
Remembering the first night I approached Thornfield on foot, I’d hoped this place would be my true beginning, that it would hold something more for my wandering soul. A place to call home. It was the very least I wanted, but it was also a formidable thing to ask of an unknown local. Still, without my knowing, that is what it had become. Mysteries, affairs, skulking maids, pompous guests, and all!
When the alcohol ran dry and the hour crept toward midnight, the staff parted—leaving the kitchen in chaos until the morning—each soul sufficiently drunk enough that they’d sleep soundly that night.
As darkness fell completely, Thornfield slept like a stone, and I stole through the halls, my night only just beginning.
20
“Enter.”
My hand slipped around the doorknob, and I opened the last barrier between Edward and me.
It had been almost a fortnight since the fire, and all trace of it had been extinguished. No smoke lingered in the air. No charred quilt lay in the center of the room. Only warm light and the spicy male scent that marked this as Edward’s domain filled the space.
Taking a deep breath, I willingly slipped into the lion’s den and closed us inside.
I didn’t see him at first. I glanced around the room, which looked completely different from the place I’d spent curled up in an armchair with the window open. The room itself was rather large, its walls clad with the same oak paneling of the adjoining study and library. Landscape paintings and portraits of grand men with their hounds and horses dotted where they may, and a large tapestry hung to the right of the king-sized bed. The furniture was a mix of modern and antique—a flat-screen television was moun
ted over the fireplace, and a laptop sat on the gilded coffee table—and it made the air feel homely.
I gasped as a strong arm wrapped around my waist and turned me around, my cry swallowed by the force of a set of very male lips on mine. Edward held me close, devouring me as if he’d been starving for my touch, barely breaking from me to take a breath.
“You taste like bourbon,” he murmured, licking his lips. “Did you have fun, Jane?”
“Yes.” I nodded. “Though I couldn’t still knowing I was to come to you.”
“That pleases me.”
“Does it?”
“Your delicate body pleases me, Jane. To have tasted your arousal and felt it as I entered you gives me great satisfaction.” His grasp tightened. “To have your wild spirit around my manhood is one of the keenest pleasures I have ever known.”
I shivered, his wicked words delighting me. I moved against him, and feeling how hard he was through his linen trousers, I sighed.
“Do you want me, Jane?” he asked, his voice tight with restraint.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to feel me inside your body? Do you want me to give you pleasure?”
“I would take you whole, Edward,” I replied.
His stormy eyes darkened into a typhoon, and his palms rubbed my breasts through my blouse, his forefinger and thumb pinching my hardened nipples.
“I would do wicked things to you, Jane,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Such wicked depravities of the flesh, but I’m afraid you would fly away.”
“I think about all the ways I could take you,” I murmured, arching into his touch.
Edward stilled and ran his palm over my breast and curled his fingers around my neck. He didn’t tighten his grip, but knowing he could snap me in two if he desired, had my heart beating wildly.
“Stand there,” he commanded, letting me go as suddenly as he’d taken me. “Let me see you.”
He undressed me with dexterous hands, ridding me of my clothing, then cast his aside until we stood naked before one another.
It was the first time I’d seen him completely exposed before me, and I wasn’t disappointed. My attraction to him only grew as I placed my hands on him, and he placed his on me. Our caresses deepened as he laid me on his bed. My wetness grew, and his hardness pressed against me, demanding to be let inside.
Opening my legs to him, he entered me just as roughly as he had in the forest, our bodies joining with a slap.
“Jane,” he said with a moan. “You feel so tight, do you know that? It feels so good to me…”
Pleasure rolled through my body at his words, and I tightened my muscles, extracting another moan from his lips. He moved above me, stroking in and out, his mouth brushing against mine and our breath mingling.
“You…” he muttered. “I need you, Jane.”
“I’m here,” I replied, thrusting to meet him. “Edward…”
His touch became fevered, his desperation apparent as he took solace in my body. There was nothing at this moment to suggest it came from love or caring, but I felt his pleasure so completely that I didn’t care why he sought me out so, only that he did.
Rolling onto his back, he grasped my waist and moved me astride his magnificent body, then impaled me once more. Sliding up and down his length, I followed the guidance his hands provided, his fingers biting into my hips as he thrust into me from below.
Raising his back off the mattress, he sat tall, holding me close as I writhed, his lips sucking at my breast and his teeth biting at my nipples. I could hardly hold onto my pleasure as his body took mine on every front, our limbs tangled around one another.
As if he sensed my body was on the precipice, he flipped me onto my back as if I weighed nothing at all, and thrust deep, pounding into my body relentlessly. All at once, I let go, and my body screamed in pleasure under his rough ministrations. My passion grasped his with greedy hands and tore his release from his body, his seed spilling into me again and again, his deep moans of satisfaction mingling with my own.
We lay together for a moment, his length still deep within me, our chests heaving with exertion, the air thick with the scent of what we’d just shared.
When he took his body from mine, I felt his absence keenly and wanted nothing more than for him to return. From behind, or above, or from wherever he desired, I did not care.
“You must go,” he said abruptly, signaling his rough and quick touch had been enough. Certainly, we’d both come as we’d desired, but…in this, I didn’t think he’d be so changeful.
Edward glared up at the ceiling as if he heard a noise or a demon that commanded him to cut me loose. He didn’t speak or glance at me. I’d been thoroughly dismissed.
I hesitated, but only slightly, then I turned from him, looking for my discarded clothing, my entire being confused. He’d made love to me so completely, and not a minute after he’d spilled inside me, I was commanded to leave.
What had happened?
I felt every parting keenly, as if a strip had been torn from my very soul, and for him to dismiss me so easily, it had me reeling. I felt dizzy as I dressed, my stomach rolling and my heart twisting.
What kind of pain was this? The morose realization that I was now suffering a broken heart. For it was true, wasn’t it? If this twisted feeling of sickness was love, as I suspected it to be, then I did not want it. There was no other explanation for my sudden change, especially knowing we had been clear on the parameters of our relationship. I was a secret, simply one of many in his life.
I should have expected to crawl back to my own bed, a shadow in the darkness of Thornfield, and not remain by his side. This house and its master were cursed. I was sure of it.
I didn’t acknowledge him as I slipped on my clothes. I didn’t utter a word as I donned my boots and moved away. I didn’t bid him goodnight as I closed the door behind me. A single sound didn’t pass my lips as I took my leave, my body aching in the afterglow of what we’d just done. As my heart ached, so did my body, and it was hollow.
I no longer felt like a person. I felt like a thing to be used and twisted, for what good could come of loving when it wasn’t returned?
21
The halls were empty as I stumbled back to my room.
I scarcely knew if I was going the right way, I was so distraught at my revelation. I was falling in love with Edward Rochester, and what a terrible thing it was.
It was frightening but euphoric all at the same time, and the world spun around me as I wandered. Where was true north? Where was the moon? Which way would the sun rise in the morning? My reality had become twisted, and my soul had become a victim of the dark corners of Thornfield.
He didn’t feel the same. How could he when I was still a secret and a thing to be summoned and dismissed when it suited him? Him, not me.
“Jane?”
I fell against the wall in fright as I heard Alice’s voice and clutched my hand over my heart. I’d been caught. What was I to say? I must appear a mess to her eyes. The only thing that placated my tenderness was the fact it wasn’t the odd Grace Poole who had discovered me.
“Jane, are you okay?” Alice asked, appearing before me. Her hands grasped my shoulders, her soft eyes full of concern.
I was distraught and feeling quite dizzy, so when I told her I felt ill, it wasn’t a lie at all. I felt positively sick to my stomach.
“Come,” she said with a grimace. “Let me help you back to your room.”
Before long, I was in familiar territory, and I sank onto my bed, kicking off my boots. They fell to the floor with a thud, and I rolled onto my side, no longer caring what I looked like. The maw of depression I’d come to call friend appeared inside me, and I willed it to swallow me whole.
Alice draped my blanket over my shivering form and sat on the mattress beside me, a grave look on her face.
“I’m worried, Jane,” she murmured.
“It’s just a stomach upset,” I lied miserably.
“Is some
thing going on between you and Rocky?” she asked with a shake of her head. “I know you have become a favorite of his, but is it more?”
I shook my head. “We talk,” I said after a moment. “We argue some…”
“Is that what has upset you?” she asked, prodding for more. “You do look feverish, but…”
I swallowed hard. “I’m used to his arrogance.”
“Jane, please be careful,” she pleaded. “Rocky is more than he seems.”
I stilled, my blood feeling like it was mixing with ice water. “What do you mean?”
“The Rochester’s are well known for looking out for themselves. They take what they want with no regard for others.”
“You think he is using me?” I asked breathlessly. “But…we only talk.” The lie slipped out so easily, which only added to my sickness.
It hadn’t felt like he was merely using my company, but perhaps there was a shred of truth in her words. There was a great deal of evidence to support it. The way he avoided personal questions, the way he twisted his words, the way he used pleasure as a balm. I was so embroiled in the dealings of my own heart, I was blinded. Did he truly see me as a human being and his spiritual equal or merely as a toy to be played with?
Alice opened her mouth, then closed it, whatever she wanted to say lost.
I grimaced and took this moment to tell her a little of my upbringing—enduring Aunt Sarah and her constant belittling of my presence and coming to terms with the harsh blows of being abandoned at Lowood. It was all training in a way. I was well aware of the selfish potential of the human race and their harsh capabilities, and I had developed measures to protect myself. Words like cold, solitary, and emptiness all came to mind. I wanted to live, but living had become a puzzle too complicated to unravel.
Upon hearing this, Alice’s expression crumpled and moved from concern to pity, and I wasn’t sure which one was worse.