= 18 =

The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze: I watched Edward’s carriage disappear into the mist out of which he appeared over a week ago, and then went and supervised the children’s art class. When it was time to have tea with Miss Joyce I found that I was not up to it – by then fatigue as well as fever had overtaken me. I sent her a note to apologise for my absence before retiring to my room, but instead of being left to rest, I soon had Lady Blake at my door. My mistress was alarmed when she saw me and promptly ordered me to bed.

“You poor dear,” she crooned, “You should have told me you were ill. You cannot be exerting yourself with the children in this state.”

Despite my protests, she immediately sent for a cold compress and tureen of chicken broth.

“You must keep up your strength if you are to recover.” she said, “Máire told me you missed luncheon – that will not do, my dear. You must take better care of yourself.”

“Please, you do not need to go to all this trouble, Lady Blake.” I insisted.

“But of course I do.” she countered, “You are living under my roof and are practically family now – and I always take care of my family.”

She was right, of course – my body, as well as my soul, ached for rest. After consuming a bowl of soup I slept for sixteen hours straight, and when I awoke the next morning my fever had gone, replaced by a less alarming head cold. There was however no relieving my melancholy.

I missed Edward terribly – I could feel my heartstrings stretch as the distance between us grew once more, as life once again threatened to submerge us. I imagined Edward on his way back to Thornfield – grimly desolate on the endless roads back to Dublin; leaning against the rail on the steamer as it crossed the Irish Sea; his head drooping in defeat. I whispered his name, so that the chord between us vibrated across the ether. My sheer need for him was like a fast-flowing stream, desperate to find an outlet. It compelled me to brave the cold of the room to retrieve my notebook. When I settled back under the covers, I took up a pencil and wrote:

“Together alone,

Above and beneath,

We were as close

As anyone can be.

Now you are gone

Far away from me.

As is once

Will always be,

Together alone.

Together alone,

Shallow and deep,

Holding our breath,

Paying death no heed.

I'm still your friend

When you are in need.

As is once

Will always be,

Earth and sky,

Moon and sea.” (3)

Underneath the poem, I sketched my vision of Edward, alone on the deck of the steamer, his anguished eyes gradually emerging from my pencil. When it was complete, I stared at it for a long time, and after saying a prayer for him, I tucked the page into my bedside drawer and succumbed once more to sleep.

I drifted in and out of slumber for most of the morning. At noon Lady Blake came to check on me, bringing with her Miss Joyce. My mistress only stayed long enough to determine that I must continue to rest for at least another day, but Miss Joyce insisted on having luncheon with me. After watching me nibble on a mutton chop, she announced that she had a surprise in store.

“The children charged me with the task of giving you these.” she told me cheerfully, handing me two drawings. “They drew them this morning especially for you.”

“My, how lively they are.” I remarked with a smile as I studied Erroll’s drawing of a dragon and Lizzy’s sketch of fluttering fairies.

“They are such sweet creatures.” she praised.

“They certainly are, and I am lucky to have them, as I have been lucky with all of my pupils.” I replied, suddenly thinking of Adèle.

“What is it, Miss Eyre?” asked Miss Joyce when I remained mum.

“I was thinking of my former pupil – Mr. Rochester’s ward. I hope she is well. She was not so the last time I saw her.”

“Why? Was she ill?”

“No, but I am afraid Adèle took my departure very hard. I don’t blame her. I can understand what it is like to be completely alone in the world – and knowing that, my leaving must seem to her like abandonment.”

“But she still has Mr. Rochester, has she not?”

“Yes, but he has not a natural affinity with children, I am afraid. He was only beginning to get to know Adèle when… When he went away too.”

I stopped – felt my eyes well up with tears – knew that one word was enough to break me.

“Miss Eyre…” my companion said compassionately, taking my hand as I struggled to recover. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to – because I think I know. It is Mr. Rochester, isn’t it?”

“You must think me foolish to love such a man.” I said tearfully, “You think that he is too far above my station – that he could never love me!”

She shook her head and gave my hand a squeeze. “I saw how he looked at you the other night in the drawing room, and from that one glance it was obvious that he returned your feelings. My heart goes out to you, Miss Eyre – to be parted from a loved one – no wonder you are so despondent. But would it not ease your sorrow to talk about him?”

I shook my head violently. “That is one thing that I cannot do! There are other complications than just mere rank and wealth – complications that I have vowed to keep secret.”

“You misunderstand me. I did not ask you to break any kind of confidentiality, but for your own sake, you must ease your heart.”

She looked at me kindly. “I have seen first-hand how it is to lose one’s heart. The summer before I became Lady Martyn’s companion, my sister’s fiancé died at sea. My sister did not speak of her sorrow but instead concealed herself in her room for days on end. She changed from a lively girl to a creature completely devoid of bloom. I do not want this to happen to you, which is why I am imploring you to seek a confidante. There are good, trustworthy people in the world. I know my grandmother is one of them. She is a wise woman, discrete, and a good listener. In fact, it would benefit both of you to meet since she also wants to meet you.”

“Me? Why?”

“I told her about you on my visit the other day, about how we met on the steamer to Dublin, and she said, ‘That sounds like a very brave girl’ and urged me to bring you to see her. So would you like me to introduce you to her before I go?”

I imagined that wise woman, a woman who seemed to know about matters of the heart. Surely she would understand.

“Yes, I would be delighted to meet her.”

Miss Joyce smiled. “Good. When you are better, we shall visit her in Oranmore.”

Miss Joyce was not my only visitor that day. After dinner, the children came with Máire, their happy faces as bright as a rainbow after a storm.

“Oh Miss Eyre, we thought you were dying!” Lizzy wailed while throwing her arms around me, much to Máire’s dismay.

“We were ever so worried.” chimed her brother as he too hugged me tightly.

“Oh my dear, you needn’t be.” I assured them, kissing their little foreheads. “I shall be back in the school room before you know it.”

“I am so glad!” exclaimed Lizzy, before adding, “Did you get our pictures?”

“Yes, I did – I thank you. See, they have pride of place in my chamber now.” said I, pointing to where Miss Joyce had placed them on the dresser.

“And did you know what we did today?”

They proceeded to fill me in about their day and would have happily prattled on all night if it were not for Máire who was charged with putting them to bed. Upon hearing a knock on the door, she said, “That is the signal for us to go. Come children, we’re off to bed.”

She ushered her reluctant charges out the door, and to my astonishment, let in Mrs. Kirwan. The housekeeper closed the door and glided to the centre of the room. She looked more formidable than usual in the evening gloom. A great uneasiness came over me for I sensed that she had not come to exchange pleasantries. I was right.

“I am very disappointed, Miss Eyre.” she began, her brown eyes boring into mine, “Excessively disappointed. Do you know why?”

“No, Mrs. Kirwan.” I replied as stoically as I could.

“Because you have threatened the reputation of this house with your indiscretions!”

I was stunned. “I am sorry Mrs. Kirwan, but I have not a clue what you are speaking of.”

She grew ever sterner. “Insolent girl! Your plans for concealment shall not work with me. Might I remind you that you are under my charge and that I have the power to dismiss you for your impropriety?”

“It is not insolence when I do not know what I have done wrong!”

“I knew there was something suspicious about you from the moment you arrived. There was no doubt that you had disgraced yourself in the eyes of your former master. Why else would he send you hundreds of miles to be a governess when there are surely plenty of positions in your own country? And when he came your way again, what did you do but throw yourself at him in the most shocking way. I saw that you sought him out every chance that you got until you gave him no choice but to flee!”

Though her accusations were completely off the mark, they nonetheless struck me hard. I could see how Mrs. Kirwan could misconstrue my actions in such a way because instead of leaving Mr. Rochester alone, instead of doing my best to dampen my feelings, I had let them burn bright and strong. It had attracted the censure that I dreaded from the very first – censure that could well bring about my downfall.

Yet I could not stand falsely accused – I must try to defend myself. But how could I defend myself when Mrs. Kirwan was so wholly against me – when she would simply dismiss my testament as hearsay?

There must be a way – I must find a way.