by Amity Cross
What could he possibly have to add to the revelations he’d already piled upon me in the last two days? Certainly, I was done for the moment and wouldn’t be able to settle until the wedding.
“Tomorrow, we shall be man and wife,” he said abruptly.
“Tomorrow?” I asked, my pulse speeding up. “But…”
His eyes narrowed, displeased at my reaction. “Why delay?”
“It’s a big thing to be married. You only asked me the day before last.”
“I’m simply done waiting for my life to begin.”
I saw the look on his face, and it was troubled. “Has something happened?”
He shook his head and patted the wall beside him again. I sat as he bade, casting my gaze over the moor beyond.
“Edward, may I ask you a question?”
“What do you wish to know, Jane?”
“You know I was witness to the finality of Blanche’s departure,” I began warily.
He peered at me cautiously. “Proceed…”
“She mentioned your brother and implied something terrible had happened to him. It worries me, Edward. I know nothing of him or your parents. What of your family?”
“I am like you, Jane,” he murmured. “I have none left apart from a few distant relatives who have never made themselves known. My mother passed years ago, my father more recently, and my brother… He has been gone a long time. There is no one who will object to our union if that is what you fret about. We are free to do as we wish.”
I could tell his brother’s passing hurt him more keenly than the loss of his parents, but he’d navigated around mentioning the circumstances with expert precision. Truly, it would take time for all our secrets, especially his, to come to light. Perhaps it was too soon to press on it further.
“Are you well, Jane?”
“Everything in life seems so unreal to me,” I whispered, my voice snatched away by the breeze.
“Except me,” Edward replied. “I am real enough.”
Turning as he grasped my hand in his own, I said, “You are the most phantom-like of all.”
He smiled, raising my hand to his lips. Placing a chaste kiss on my knuckles, he asked, “Is that a dream, Jane?”
Shivering, I nestled closer to his side for warmth. “You are too clever for your own good.”
“Not clever enough to best you.”
How untrue that statement was! He’d bested me in all manner of things, the greatest being the ultimate withholding of his darkest secret, the thing that caused him insurmountable pain. Since the night he’d wrapped his hands around my throat, he hadn’t hurt me again, but I feared the day he would try once more while in the throes of passion. If he did not confide in me, then I wouldn’t be able to help him come to terms with it.
“Edward, if tomorrow is the day, then tonight would you give me one thing?” I asked.
His arm found its way around my back, and he held me against his side. “What would you like, Jane?”
“A secret,” I murmured, and when he tensed, I added, “A little one.”
“A little one?” he echoed. “Dear Jane, by now, you should know I don’t do anything little. I prefer things on a grand scale.”
“Would you humor me?”
He turned his gaze to the moor, his brow darkening with a storm of his own. To me, he was my noble stag, burdened by secrets and determined to love despite them. I loved him and would give him the chance to find the strength to share them with me. Marriage seemed a large thing to give, but give it to him I would.
He thought upon my question for a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice was full of emotion.
“Here is my secret, Jane. I had not fully lived until I felt your lips upon mine and tasted your wicked tongue. You are my salvation.”
20
Alice came to my rescue the following morning.
Having been ordered by Edward to be ready at precisely nine a.m., it had left me no time to ready myself. I had no dress, no vows, and I was entirely devoid of strength, my nerves having taken over my entire being.
At eight, Alice had burst into my room armed with a case of makeup, a variety of appliances to style my unruly hair, and a demure knee-length cream frock to serve as my wedding gown. I allowed her to wrestle with my appearance, weaving her magic while I stewed in my own juices, attempting to rally my remaining strength.
It was such a surprise to be married today! Four weeks was soon, but now? I had no time to mentally prepare for the biggest event my life would probably ever see.
When the rollers were taken out of my hair, and the dress was donned and my feet were squashed in a pair of alien-feeling high heels, I gathered myself and made for the door. At five minutes to nine, Edward would be waiting for me in the gallery downstairs, and I did not want to tarry. I needed to look upon his face and find comfort. He was strong and unyielding and would serve as my rock when the waters were rough as they were now.
“Stop, Jane,” Alice said, grasping my shoulders before I could dart away. “You haven’t looked at yourself. You must see the transformation.”
She turned me about, and when my gaze found my reflection in the tiny bathroom mirror, I found a stranger therein. She was small but not plain in the slightest. Her hair was smooth and silken with hazelnut-colored curls cascading softly over her shoulder. Her cheeks were pink and her lips crimson red, her green eyes made iridescent by the makeup that lined her lids. The dress she wore sat delicately on her slight frame, accentuating her shoulders and chest. She was a hasty bride but a beautiful one.
“What do you think?” she asked eagerly, clearly proud of her handiwork.
There was a banging at the door, and Alice sighed dramatically.
“What’s happening in there?” came Edward’s voice.
“Don’t be so impatient,” Alice scolded him. “We’re right on time.”
“I am not waiting a moment longer,” he declared and burst into the room.
When he saw me, his eyes narrowed, and his shoulders tensed, a look of desire all about him. He grasped my hand and all but dragged me from my room, through the halls, down into the gallery, and outside to the waiting car while Alice did her best to keep up. It was akin to a caveman dragging his woman off to have his way with her.
“Jane!” Alice called out as I was stuffed into the back seat, but Edward had obviously forbidden me to tarry any longer.
As the car moved down the driveway, I glanced back at her and frowned at the look on her face. She was worried, and her doubt made me begin to fret. Edward was in such a hurry to make me his wife, and it was unusual, to say the least. For a man who had struggled for so long, this change was abrupt…but then again, he was prone to altering his course on a whim. It was just his impatience driving him, that was all.
There were no bridesmaids, groomsmen, friends, or family. It was only Edward and me—and the driver—to bear witness to this mad flight to the altar.
I raised my hand to wave farewell, but she was already out of sight. As we turned into the lane and left Thornfield’s grounds, I turned to study Edward’s features. One look at him told me he would not suffer any delay, his determination to see this through was written all over his dark brow and etched in his stormy eyes. I didn’t know what kind of day it was, whether it was bathed in sunshine or doused with rain, nor did I turn my eye from him to find out.
“Edward,” I said, taking his hand.
He turned to me, his gaze finding mine, but he didn’t speak. It only served to unsettle me further, and I tightened my grip on his hand. His other came to rest over mine, his fingers playing with the engagement ring, and it was the only thing to pass between us the entire journey.
We arrived at the church some twenty minutes later, and I was again bustled out of the car. Edward took my hand and led me across the footpath and into the hallowed grounds, our shoes crunching on the white pebbled path. I expected him to lead me directly inside, but he halted just outside the shadow of the building.
/> We lingered, the wind ruffling the hem of my dress. For the first time that morning, I was able to be still and take in my surroundings and ponder on my feelings. My eye was drawn to the sky where the church’s steeple sat stark against the gray clouds and patches of blue. All around were the sounds of the village as its people went about their morning business. Driving to work, walking, running errands. I studied the grounds, my gaze drinking in the graves at the side of the old building, both of which dated back hundreds of years. A few cars were parked in spaces along the road, their windscreens glinting in the ray of sunshine that had broken through the cloud cover.
My heart beat steadily, thrumming a wild rhythm, my nerves tingling at the thought of standing on such a precipice. Mrs. Jane Rochester. I’d gone from having no name whatsoever to having two, all in the space of a handful of months.
“Have I been cruel, Jane?” Edward asked suddenly, tightening his grip on my hand. “Have I pressured you too much?”
I shook my head. “No, you have not. If there is any cause for criticism, it is for being quick in bringing about this day.”
“Would you go back?”
I turned to him, beginning to fear he had cold feet, and that was the reason he’d hastened.
“No, I would not,” I replied. “I would not have dressed, let alone allowed you to bring me here if I weren’t. You know the strength of my conviction.”
“Yes,” he said with a nod. “You are stubborn, indeed.”
“It should come as no surprise.”
“I have been amiss in my conduct today,” he went on. “I have not told you I think you make a beautiful bride, Jane. I like you in that dress, but I am looking forward to tearing it off you the moment we return to Thornfield as man and wife. I ache to have you in my bed once more, to taste you, to thrust into you, and give you such pleasure…”
I shivered, my thighs clenching together as his words awoke my desire for the very same thing.
“How soon do you wish to depart for Europe?” he asked. “I would take you tonight or tomorrow. The sooner the better, my love.”
“Why do you move so fast?” I asked. “Can’t we share our happiness with the staff—my friends—before disappearing?”
He stilled, his lust-fueled smile fading. “You are right. I am too eager. Come, let today pass, then we shall make our plans carefully and precisely tomorrow.”
We rallied and walked hand in hand toward the church. Crossing the threshold felt as if it were a point of no return, but I’d come willingly, even though I’d been rushed by Edward’s impatience.
Inside, it was hushed, and as we entered, a priest came forward. He’d been waiting for our arrival and ushered us forward with a few words of greeting. He was an older man, his hair white and his face wrinkled, and he wore all black with the traditional white collar that his faith obliged.
The walk down the aisle was a muted affair, no music echoed around us, and no guests stood to watch our procession. It was a little sad that we were so alone. I would have invited Alice, Bessie, and Georgiana in the least. When Edward had mentioned being married in a month’s time, I expected the entirety of Thornfield to be involved. This was a sight different, but at least the result would be the same.
Finally, we stood face to face at the altar with the priest before us. The pews were empty save for the driver who had followed us inside and now sat at the rear of the church, our one sole witness.
“I want no fanfare or speeches,” Edward instructed the priest. “I merely wish to have our union official.”
The man nodded and glanced at me, his brow creasing as he attempted to discern if I was here of my own free will or not.
“Proceed,” I said, giving my consent.
His expression softened, and he cleared his throat before getting down to business. “Who is giving this woman to be joined to this man?”
“I have no one, and I am freely giving myself,” I replied.
The priest hurried the service along as requested. “And do you, Edward Rochester, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Edward took my hands and held them tightly, his gazed linked with mine. “I do.”
“And do you, Jane Doe, take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”
I smiled as the priest uttered the word husband. “I do.”
“If anyone here knows any impediment as to why these two should not be bound in holy matrimony, please say so now, or forever hold your peace.”
“Must we?” Edward snapped. “The only witness here is our driver. Proclaim it done.”
At that precise moment, the outside door banged open, light from outside illuminating the dark space, and a panicked voice called out, “Stop!”
My heart skipped a beat at the sound of a booming male voice, and my head turned just as Edward’s did. When I saw Richard Mason standing at the opposite end of the room, my mouth fell open.
“The marriage cannot go on!” he bellowed and all but leaped over the rows of pews to reach the altar.
I glanced uncertainly at Edward, who still held my hands in an iron-like grip, and found his expression to hold the purest form of anger I’d ever seen. Not even the day he’d come back to Thornfield and found Mason in residence held a candle to the fury that beheld him now.
I glanced at the priest, but he was watching Mason with a look of astonishment. How often did a wedding halt at this point? Hardly ever, I suppose.
A deathly silence had fallen upon the church as he stood before us, and I pulled my hands free of Edward’s grasp. Dread settled in my heart, and I began to breathe heavily.
“Mason, I beg you,” Edward said. “Stay this madness!”
“I cannot,” he replied, shaking his head gravely. “She is my sister, and I cannot allow her to be cast away. It’ll be her death.”
“What’s going on?” I whispered, my heart beginning to wither in my chest. I was dying…dying.
Mason glanced at me, his eyes full of remorse. “I’m sorry, Jane. I warned you not to trust him.”
Edward looked as if he was about to explode, and I guessed it was only by sheer force of will he did not.
“Mason?” I asked, a tear escaping my eye.
Mason steeled himself, wringing his hands together anxiously, and what he said next was the last thing I was expecting to hear. The very last in a long list of demons I thought could sit on Edward’s shoulder.
“He is already married.”
21
I was ice.
I couldn’t move or speak, and it was as if death had taken me on the spot, and I now stood as a spirit. I stared at Mason, feeling faint. After all Edward and I had been through, there was worse?
“I am not married,” Edward said with a snarl.
“Then you did not marry Bertha Mason, my sister, ten years ago? I was there to see it, so I assume you are calling me a liar. Don’t you worry, Rochester, I have the evidence to back up my claims. Bertha is still living, or at least, she was when I last visited, and I hope she is still breathing when I see her next.”
Was he talking about when he came to Thornfield? When he was attacked? There was no one there with that name. I glanced between Mason and Edward, who were staring each other down with such contempt I’d never seen before. I knew all the souls who lived in that old hotel. Every single one!
Edward glared at Mason with such fury his stormy eyes were black, and his cheeks were red. He was a volcano on the brink of exploding, and I trembled in fear. Whatever happened next would not be pretty.
Abruptly, he stirred, lifted his strong arm, and struck. Mason shrank away, but it was not enough to stop Edward’s fist colliding with his cheek, and he was sent sprawling across the floor of the church.
I stood open mouthed in shock, the priest murmuring a prayer beside me as Edward grasped Mason’s shirt and lifted him clear off the floor as if he weighed nothing at all.
“How dare you come here and accuse me!” he roared in the man’s face. “You know nothing, Ma
son!”
“I know if you cast her out, she’ll be done for!” he yelled back, his cheek already turning crimson from the blow. “It’ll be her death, Edward! Do you want to be responsible for that?”
I listened to the exchange, not knowing what to do. Should I run? Should I stand and demand answers? Should I break down in tears? Should I disappear as I’d been trying to do for months? This was a grievous harm against my soul. I’d been pulled from one corner to another, and I was losing strength. Soon, I’d be ripped apart, and what would happen to me then?
This quarrel was beyond me. It appeared I was a pawn in a game I had no business being a part of. Well, in that case, I would remove myself from this show of despicable violence—in a church, no less!—and be done with it all.
I kicked off the annoying high-heeled shoes Alice had made me wear, picked them up, and ran barefoot down the aisle, ignoring Edward and Mason, who had begun to exchange more blows. Grasping the driver’s arm, I hauled him upright.
“Take be back to Thornfield,” I ordered. “At once.”
He glanced uneasily at the two men in the midst of their fistfight and at the priest who had begun to flail wildly in an attempt to pull them apart and then followed me outside to the car.
Outside, the scant sunshine had all but disappeared, the scene apt for the revelation that had been unearthed inside. The wind had an unearthly chill to it as my bare feet padded along the path, tiny rocks pressing painfully into my flesh.
Crossing the gutter gingerly, I slid into the back of the car as the driver brought it to life. Glancing at the church, I saw Edward running from the building, aiming directly for me.
“Go,” I said to the driver, throwing the shoes onto the seat next to me. “Quickly.”
I flipped the central locking just as Edward smacked his palm against the window. “Jane!”
“Drive,” I said, ignoring the beast outside. “Let him walk his rage off. I want nothing to do with him.”
Thankfully, he obeyed my instruction, and we moved off, leaving the master on the side of the road with his hands fisted into his hair and his shirt and tie askew.