Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall (24 page)

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 would 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.”

“Well, as time passes, I am sure you
will see for yourself that we are indeed well–matched in spite of our
differences. Love has no boundaries.” I watched her hold his hand and smile,
and I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth in disgust.

“John, I promise you my whole life will
be dedicated to your mother’s happiness and wellbeing.”

It pained me to hear him speak of my
mother in such terms, but I persisted with my charade. “I have no doubt that
you have feelings for each other. In fact, I now realise I saw it all, long
before it was obvious, yet I still find it hard to accept, and believe me, I
would like to accept it, because it pains me…” I stopped, realising I was
saying too much.

“John, I want you to know that I loved
your father dearly, in spite of the events that occurred before I met him, and
after. I owe him everything I have, and part of who I am. I was but a child,
only nineteen, when I met him and fell in love. His memory is dear to me. I
have forgiven him, and I beseech you to forgive him, too.”

“The road to forgiveness and understanding
is not easy, but I hope to embrace it in the future.” I forced a smile.

An uncomfortable silence ensued as they
waited for me to speak. “I plan to continue my studies at Harvard, so I shall be
away from Eyre Hall for some time.”

“Harvard?”

“Archbishop Templar has suggested I
apply to the School of Divinity. I am anxious to learn more about the Lord’s
word.”

“Are you sure?” 

“No, I am not sure of anything anymore,
but I must find out why I am not sure. And I believe that the scriptures can
answer that question.”

“When will you leave?”

“Soon. Mr. Jackson has said he will join
me, as he has business to attend to, and he has a house in Boston.”

“Well, that is good to hear. How long do
you plan to stay in Boston?”

“A year, initially.”

“So you will not be at Eyre Hall next
Christmas, for the wedding?”

“I am afraid not. I shall be back
shortly after your wedding.” The wedding I was sure would never take place
because by then, her reclusion would be well under way, and Michael would be in
the gutter, where he belonged, or better still, in jail.

“I suppose you have told Phoebe and her
father that you are leaving?” my mother asked.

“I was never actually engaged to Phoebe,
as you may remember. You and her father were negotiating a future engagement between
us, after her sister’s death.”

“Of course, that is correct.”

“Phoebe told me she had been approached
by Lord Ingram’s grandson, James, and heir to his estate, with a proposal of
marriage, and she has accepted, although her father would not consent unless I
agreed, which of course, I did.”

“I am sorry to hear that, John,” said my
tactless mother.

“Well, I am relieved. I fear I would
have been a cuckold and a laughing stock in no time.” I was beginning to doubt
there was an honest woman left on this planet. 

“I knew she was fickle, but I believed
she might mature.” 

“Well, there is no harm done. I didn’t
even like her.”

“You will find the right girl, John. Be
patient. You are very young.”

“I thought I had found the right girl,
until I discovered she was my sister.” I tried not to sound bitter, so that she
would not guess how deeply I had been hurt.

I remembered the archbishop’s words.
“Keep away from Miss Mason. She is the devil’s daughter. Her mother was a
sorceress. She bewitched your father, and other men.” No doubt, he was right,
although I wondered if he had ever met Bertha Mason. My mother interrupted my
thoughts.

“John, forgive me for keeping the truth
from you. I did not wish you to despise your father.”

“So now I despise you all instead. You
have all betrayed me and lied to me. Every one of you; my father, my mother, my
sisters, my valet, my future betrothed. Is there anyone left to humiliate me?”

“I am sure that when you ponder on it
all, when time has passed, you will not be so distressed. You are a privileged
young man. You have a fortune, good looks, good health, intelligence, breeding,
and youth. Nothing will be beyond your reach, once you decide what it is you
wish for.”

“Perhaps that was my mistake. I thought
I had it all and I always let someone else decide for me. I have never made a
single decision on my own. Even this decision to go to Harvard has been
suggested by Archbishop Templar. I need to take a hold of my life, and I cannot
seem to be able to do so.”

“John, you have been sheltered, and I
may have been too persuasive. Making your own decisions will be hard, but
beneficial in the long run.” My mother approached me and rested her hand on my
shoulder.

“Thank you, Mother, for your support and
understanding. I have not deserved it recently. You are right. I am hurt and
bitter, and I hope it will pass, because I am not happy with the man I am at
this moment.”

“John, you are my dearest first born
son. You will always be special to me.”

“Things will be different when I come
back, Mother. I promise.” Hopefully, once she and her disgusting lover were out
of my sight and securely confined, I would feel much better.

“Shall we all have dinner together, this
evening?” my mother suggested, as if I would ever want to share a meal with her
repulsive young lover. How could she not know me any better?

“I’m afraid I am going out this evening,
Mother. I need some distraction. I will be going to the Rochester Arms.”

She was about to speak when I noticed
Michael take hold of her hand, the hand she had just used to comfort me. Had he
no sense of decency?

“I am sure John prefers to spend the
evening with his friends, enjoying himself at the inn, Jane.”

“Of course he does,” she said and smiled
at her lover. I hated to see him touch her, and I hated to see her looking at
him as if she loved him, because it was not love she felt. It was lust. He had
seduced her. I needed to get as far away as possible and as drunk as possible, and
forget that I had a senseless whore for a mother.  

***

John had planned to push me away from
Eyre Hall, yet I had moved in as a result of the injuries he had inflicted.
When I was able to walk without assistance, Jane insisted my luggage should be
brought from the inn and that I should remain in the guest room for the rest of
my stay. I only spoke to John on the morning he apologised, because he returned
to Oxford the next day.

I was uncomfortable at first with Adele
and Mr. Greenwood, who tried their best to avoid addressing me. However, Dante,
Susan and Annette joined us on many occasions and I felt at ease with their
presence at lunch and dinner. Fortunately, Adele and Mr. Greenwood, Dante and
Susan soon returned to London to prepare their new residences. The double
wedding, which I would not be able to attend, would be held at Eyre Hall in a
month’s time.

In the following weeks, I rarely saw
Annette who was spending more time at the hospital with Dr. Carter. Nell had
returned to school in the mornings. I had been helping Jane interview the new
staff and order the accounts, which were in disarray after the last few hectic
months, especially with the wedding and funeral costs. 

After lunch, while Nell enjoyed helping
Cook prepare endless batches of cakes and did her homework, which was mostly
copying and translating Latin texts, Jane and I walked with the dogs down to
the bench by the stream, and kissed until the sun set and Jane was so cold that
even my embrace would not warm her.

Shortly after dinner, Nell usually went
up to her room, and Annette retired early. Jane and I spent long, lazy hours making
love and chatting on the floor by the fireplace in the library, our favourite
hiding place. My lips caressed her soft supple skin as my hands explored every
fold of her acquiescent body. I could not imagine wanting anything else in the
world except to smell her skin, and hear her satisfied sighs and soft, longing moans.

The 26
^th
of January came too
soon, and I had to return to HMS Princess Helena. On our last evening, Jane handed
me a small box. She had redesigned the red button by adding a gold plaque to
its back and engraving it with the words:
I love thee with the breath,
smiles, tears, of all my life. J.E.
There was also a long golden chain
attached so that I could carry it as if it were a watch in my pocket or around my
neck. I promised her it would be close to my heart every minute of the day.

“I also have a present for you. I bought
it in London, when I bought Nell’s hair band, but I was keeping it for our last
night.”

She opened the box impatiently. It
contained four hairpins decorated with white cameos on a light blue background.
She told me they were beautiful and handed them to me. “Perhaps tonight you can
put some pins into my hair instead of taking them out.” I put them back into
the box and whispered, “Later,” before locking the door.

“Perhaps we should have a bed installed
in the library,” she said as I helped her unfasten her dress.

“That would be a pity. I have grown so
fond of this rug, Jane,” I said, sliding my lips over her smooth shoulders.