by Amity Cross
“I suppose you will leave Thornfield now,” he said.
“I have no place to go,” I replied. “Not yet.”
Silence stretched between us as I watched a lonely hawk coast through the air. It glided with such otherworldly grace I wondered how it kept itself aloft. I wished I could fly away with such strength.
Edward moved beside me. “Then I shall be the one to leave. Who am I to deny you a roof and a bed.”
“Once I find a new position, I will take my leave,” I went on. “Thornfield will be rid of my presence.”
“The retreat?” he inquired.
“After.” I’d put too much work into it to allow someone else to take it over at the eleventh hour. I would see it through—my pride wouldn’t allow me to abandon it. “Come September I shall depart.”
“And so it is done,” he murmured, rising to his feet.
I listened to the sound of his footsteps scraping across the rocks as he departed, my gaze fixed firmly on the horizon. The world stretched before me, full of possibilities and endless adventure, but I couldn’t feel any spark knowing I was soon to be cast within its ever-changing waters. I could go anywhere and be anyone, but Edward’s words and touch still blistered my skin, and the scar ran deep…so deep, I knew I’d never be rid of it.
Love was nothing compared to the power he held.
Turning, I stared at the house, finally understanding the anger in which he’d stared up at it the day we first made love in the forest. When I arrived, I saw it as a beacon of hope, a fresh start and a promise of home, but now I only saw darkness. It was cursed, utterly and completely.
Thornfield was my beginning…
And it had ended me.
This is not the end….
Paradox (The Thornfield Affair #2) is coming November 8th.
PRE-ORDER NOW!
Other Books in The Thornfield Affair
Orphaned as an infant, Jane Doe has nothing, but desires everything life has to offer.
When she’s offered work at Thornfield, a grand English manor turned hotel, she meets her match in the dark and brooding proprietor, Edward Rochester.
Soon enough, tensions rise to breaking point, and they become embroiled in an illicit affair of the mind and body.
Welcome to Thornfield where two lost souls are destined to love…no matter the cost.
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The Thornfield Affair is a modern reimagining of Charlotte Brontë’s classic Jane Eyre.
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Euphoria #1
Paradox #2
Zenith #3
Keep reading for a sneak peek at PARADOX, the second installment of The Thornfield Affair.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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Amity Cross is the International Bestselling author of wicked stories about rock stars looking for redemption, gritty romances featuring MMA fighters and dark tales of forbidden romance. She loves to write about screwed up relationships and kick ass female leads that don’t take s**t lying down.
Amity lives in a leafy country town near Melbourne, Australia and can be found chained to her desk, held at ransom by her characters.
Don’t send help. She likes it.
Follow Amity Online:
@amitycross
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www.AmityCrossWrites.com
[email protected]
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Paradox (The Thornfield Affair #2)
A Sneak Peek…
CHAPTER ONE
I was alone.
The moor stretched out before me, its landscape covered in protruding rock, cotton grass, mosses, bracken, and shrubs laden with tiny black crowberries. My throat burned with unshed tears, the tether that connected my soul to my love, severed.
I felt Edward’s absence keenly as if he’d been gone years, not the mere minutes since he’d retreated to Thornfield. The sky was endless above me, the universe vast and devoid of the happiness and belonging I’d sought all my life.
The love of poor little plain Jane Doe wasn’t enough.
I remained on my rock, attempting to find solace in nature and to calm my fractured soul for as long as I was able, but the light was fleeting, and I was cold. Considering I had nowhere to go and no money to take me away, I had to return to the scene of my greatest heartbreak and go on. There was nothing else I could do, and my pride wouldn’t allow me to hide for long.
By the time I crossed Thornfield’s border, the sun was lowering in the sky, and a breeze had lifted, stirring the grand old trees as I ventured back through the forest. I lingered in the grounds, knowing I’d have to face Alice and the staff, convinced word had spread of my uncharacteristic outburst like wildfire.
Summer was at an end. I could feel the chill of autumn in the air, and the turning of the seasons was already beginning to show in the garden. Here and there, a spot of gold shone through endless green, and soon, branches would be barren and leaves would coat the ground, causing endless annoyance for the groundskeeper.
Soon after the explosion of color, winter would come with its bland flurries of wind and snow, but I would be long departed before I could see another season pass the landscape.
Thornfield seemed emptier than usual when I finally crossed the threshold.
When I lingered in the doorway to reception, not a word was spoken about my temper and the rage in which I’d broken the screen of my tablet, and I was thankful for it. Alice hugged me in an attempt to console, but by this time, I’d already closed myself off.
From the look on her face, she hadn’t been the only one to hear the things I’d said, and with Edward giving chase, I suppose it was only a matter of time before the secret was out. How would the staff see me now? Such a scandal!
And how was I to react when I laid eyes on Edward? I feared to see him, my longing was so great, but as it turned out, I didn’t have the time to worry about it. He left Thornfield the day after our confrontation on the moor as promised, and he wouldn’t return until I had departed on the next stage of my life.
He was gone in all senses of the word.
My love had been cast aside, not enough to soothe the pain of the man I would give everything to. Nothing meant more to me than my soul, and it would’ve been freely given in exchange for his, but he could not trust, and I could not go on knowing his very being was hidden from mine.
So what could I do? Give myself to him knowing I’d never be entirely happy, or sever all ties and retain my dignity?
I didn’t care one iota about the riches he’d offered. Material wealth was nothing but a hindrance and a barrier to true and complete togetherness. Society drove a wedge between us, but in the end, it was the man who’d become a pale specter.
I chose to preserve my soul, and so he’d departed and taken my heart and happiness instead.
A day turned into two, and the void that had opened up inside me did nothing but shoot a terrible pain through my heart.
If I could not have Edward, then I was determined to find the secrets Thornfield was hiding from me. I would have answers, be what they may. I spent hours gathering the things I knew and attempted to piece them together like a puzzle.
Laughter echoed through the halls in the dead of night. The strange Grace Poole wandered here and there like a skulking ghost. An unknown assailant had attacked Edward’s friend Richard Mason—an attack I was never given an explanation for—and a fire had almost taken the master’s life. If it we
ren’t for the haunting laughter leading me through the hotel, I’d never have been there to save him from the flames. He’d brushed it off as a faulty electric blanket, but I’d come to believe it was a lie. How could I not?
Something dark and twisted lurked within these walls, something I was purposely kept from and was so terrible it haunted Edward to the point of poisoning his heart. I was determined to find it before it caused someone else harm.
The hotel was currently empty, so no one hindered my search as I hunted for clues. I flung open doors and checked every cupboard and drawer, lifted tapestries and paintings, and jumped up and down on loose floorboards. I scoured the upper levels, sorted through storage, and found nothing but the dust of the ages.
I lingered long hours in the library, opening every glass cabinet and paging through the books held within. I was covered in soot when I checked the inside of the fireplace and caused Bessie to have a heart attack at the state of the rug on the hearth.
In the study, I checked for false panels in the walls and the desk, but no papers or files were kept within. Edward had taken his computer with him, and when I found a safe behind a row of books on a shelf, I found I wasn’t cut out for a heist of any kind. The combination was impossible to crack.
The only place I didn’t dare go was Edward’s bedroom. Perhaps it was the only place that held the answers I so desperately desired, but it was also the scene of so many hurts. I’d cared for Mason as he lay injured in Edward’s bed, a fire had erupted and almost burned him alive, and his hands had wrapped around my throat in an odd display of euphoria not three days prior.
What was so terrible that a man felt he could only manifest his pain in such a way? And during an act of pleasure, no less. That was what I was searching for, but like Edward’s vast collection of masks, he kept his secrets well hidden.
The last place I hadn’t traversed were the battlements.
I greatly doubted I would find anything on the roof of Thornfield, but I ventured up to the attic nonetheless, as I had to complete the circuit before I could fully rest. I pulled down the ladder and climbed out into the clear air, the cobwebs seeming to clear from my mind. Hoping it wasn’t an illusion, I began to walk the leads, studying the grounds below with a keen eye.
“Why could he not trust me?” I asked the sky. “Why could he not love me?”
I couldn’t tell, and nothing answered me. I ordered my brain to quiet and find a response itself, but it worked and worked and couldn’t find respite for my anguish. My temples pulsed with an oncoming headache, fever rising in my cheeks.
Maybe if I were beautiful, rich, and held more power, he would tremble at my feet. Maybe he would see me as an equal and worthy of sharing the burdens that troubled him so. Maybe if I had a name…
“Jane, what are you doing up here?”
I turned to find Alice standing behind me on the leads, a concerned look on her face. Truthfully, I was beginning to become worried myself. Never had I turned to such desperate tendencies at the end of a relationship, not that I’d had any of significance until now, and never had I acted so erratically. I was driving myself mad with despair…over a man.
“Bessie says you have been tearing the hotel apart,” she went on.
I didn’t know what to say. Every answer I could’ve given was laced with a startling insanity.
“This isn’t like you, Jane,” she continued. “Please, come back inside.”
“I am not going to fling myself off the edge, Alice,” I replied. “I am not so slighted by the changeful affection of a man that I might attempt to take my own life. For that is what he is. Just a man. Not a god. Just a man…”
A man I’d fallen in love with despite my better judgment. Love wasn’t easy to give, and I’d never understood it, but I’d given it freely knowing I may never receive it in return. Would companionship of mind and body be enough without the heart?
Deep inside, I’d known it could come to this, and perhaps if I’d known… Was I so desperate to belong?
Who was I? Who was Jane Doe if not strong and resilient? Who was Jane Doe?
I grasped the simple iron balustrade, my head spinning.
“Jane!” Alice cried, clutching my arm.
“I don’t feel so good.” I took heaving breaths, my stomach rolling and my head throbbing.
“You’ve worked yourself up so much you’ve made yourself sick,” she murmured. “Please, come back into the house.”
I nodded, my fingers clutching her arm, and allowed her to lead me from the battlements and down the ladder into the attic.
Now on more stable ground, I leaned against the wall as my bearings returned while Alice closed the hatch to the roof.
“You should take the next couple of days to rest,” she said. “I’ll make sure the preparations for the artist retreat come along, and I’ll have Bessie and the others bring you something to eat when you desire it.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m… I’ve never acted like this before. I don’t know where it came from. You must think I’m mad.”
“I understand,” she replied. “It takes a great deal of conviction to care for a man like Rocky. Everyone I’ve ever known has given up before they’ve even tried.”
I closed my eyes. “What of the Queen Bee, Blanche Ingram?”
“She would settle for anything with a deep wallet,” she replied with a snort. “Most people have hearts, Jane. She does not. You love for the right reasons.”
I sighed as she threaded her arm through mine and led me down through the house. “How do you know?”
“I’ve seen you, Jane. We all have. You are quiet and guarded, that’s no secret, but you dare to take a chance on someone who others consider a hopeless case. That is admirable. You shouldn’t feel terrible about it. Rocky leaving was his choice.”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her the extent of it—that I’d been the one to cast him away and not submit to a pale imitation of love—so I remained silent.
Alice ordered me to my room, and she took me there herself, making sure I was installed completely in bed with no hope of further wanderings. She said my health depended on it, and I was needed to oversee the artist retreat I’d so carefully organized. It was to commence in three weeks’ time, and no one knew the details like I did.
“What were you looking for?” Alice asked, tucking the blanket around my shoulders.
“Answers,” I replied, closing my eyes.
Whatever Alice thought about this she didn’t say. I felt the mattress rise as she stood, and then the door closed as she left me to rest.
I was quite literally heartsick.
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Paradox (The Thornfield Affair #2) is out November 8th.
PRE-ORDER NOW!