CHAPTER III

That night I could hardly eat my solitary dinner, too lost in thought to attend to the rustic meal. After supper I sat in the armchair I had occupied earlier, gazing at the empty one opposite, trying to remember how Mr Rochester had looked, remembering all he had said.

A knock on the door startled me out of my reverie. Hope leapt into my chest – but when I opened the door it was to find St John.

I admitted him with something less than my usual cheer, though I tried to conceal my disappointment.

'I hope you will forgive me calling on you so late, Jane, but there is something I must speak with you about. Please, sit.'

Smiling a little at his ordering me to sit in my own home, I resumed my earlier seat, and watched as he paced back and forth. At last he stopped and looked at me, his blue eyes gleaming with the pure, unwielding look that often came into them during his sermons.

'I know that you had a visitor this afternoon, Jane, when I came to call on you, a man who I have heard is staying in a town just five miles from here. One Mr Edward Fairfax Rochester, of late your employer, whose house you fled shortly after finding out – indeed at the very altar – that he was already married.'

I opened my mouth to speak, when he cut me off, raising a conciliatory hand.

'Have a care, Jane. I do not accuse you of anything. I believe I know you too well to imagine anything untoward passed between you and Rochester. But take care. Do not throw away all you have worked so hard for over the last year.'

I was silent for a moment, composing myself. 'You are correct, St John, that it was Mr Rochester who came to visit me. Since last we met, a great misfortune has befallen him –'

'I believe I know what that misfortune was.'

I was so surprised by his words that I stared.

He passed a hand over his face. 'When I made inquiries about your past, I found out that there had been a fire at Thornfield Hall, that Rochester's wife had died in the blaze, and that he sustained substantial injuries while trying to save her life.'

I gazed at him in horror. 'Why did you not tell me of this?'

'When I but mentioned Rochester to you to speak of your former employment and engagement, it was clear from your reaction that you could not bear to hear another word of him, and so I thought it best to say nothing, lest I upset you further.'

I was silent. I was not sure how I would have reacted if he had told me the news then. I would have grieved certainly, and pitied Rochester and Adele, who must surely be at a school somewhere, but would I have dared to seek out Rochester myself at that time, when I was still reclaiming my identity?

'I have no doubt that you were moved by pity when you saw the man. His injuries have been described to me by someone who saw him entering the inn where he is staying; they are grave indeed. I know your kind nature, Jane. Perhaps you are now imagining yourself as both wife and nursemaid to him. But why be a wife to a man with a wicked past –' he spoke determinedly over my noise of protest '– when you could continue here as a schoolteacher, tending the minds of hundreds of girls, regenerating your fellow human beings? And who knows what you might be called to in the future – work that could reach even further than this simple school – and certainly a thousand times further than playing nursemaid to a recluse.'

He saw my expression. 'Forgive me, Jane, I spoke more harshly of him than I meant to, but you must see the reason in my argument.'

I bowed my head. His argument was a sound one, and I enjoyed the work I did here, though I loved the sisterly companionship of Diana and Mary still more, and the knowledge that in but a few days I would live with them as their dear cousin once they returned to live in Moor House. That life beckoned to me with the promise of friendship and familial love – and yet Mr Rochester's presence seemed to linger in the room, eclipsing all else. Why should I not have both my newly found family and the man I loved?

I looked up at St John. 'Thank you, St John, for your honesty. But I must insist that nothing more you can say will have any effect on me. What happens next is my choice alone, and I need time to reflect on it. Know that you have done all you can to sway me, and that no further efforts can succeed.'

With great reluctance he left, and I passed a sleepless night, longing to see my master again, yet dreading that I had been wrong in my reading of his feelings.

The next day I had great difficulty in keeping my mind on giving lessons, and I fear my students sensed my restlessness. It seemed to infect them, too, so that by the time the bell had rung to mark the end of the school day, they were desperate to fly over the hills and run off their nervous energy.

To my relief, St John was not waiting for me outside. He must have taken my words to heart, and decided to leave me to my choice, disapproving of it though he would undoubtedly be.

The girls were soon out of sight, and I set off around the hill behind the school. There by the stream I saw Mr Rochester, waiting there alone, standing very still at the water's edge. That strange calm from the day before came over me as I saw him, suffused by a deep tenderness that I had never felt before. There was no pity in it, only a deep affection and a certainty that what I wanted more than anything was to never be parted from him again.

He looked up at the sound of my approach, his expression suddenly vulnerable.

'Jane?' he asked.

'It is I,' I said, crossing the space between us and reaching for his elbow. His hand clasped mine at once and though his lips parted he seemed unable to speak.

For some time I was struck silent as well, until I tugged gently on his arm and we began to walk. I described our surroundings to him as we strolled, my love for him suffusing the landscape with an almost painful beauty that I did my best to convey to him with my words.

Suddenly he halted, his hand still tight on mine. 'It is no good, Jane. I cannot remain silent any longer. I slept not a wink last night, what with my fear that you would come to your senses and decline to meet with a blind, ruined man. I have no right to say this to you now, after all that has happened, but I cannot help it. I love you, Jane. Just as much as I did nine months ago – more, in fact. The pain of losing you tempered my feelings, and I am now as certain as I have been of anything that I will never love another besides you as long as I draw breath.' He paused, his hand trembling where it rested on mine. 'Will you marry me, Jane?'

A deep happiness spread through me, such as I had never known before. I had loved him formerly as much as I was capable, but the months which had passed since I had last seen him, the events which we had both lived through separately, had deepened my feelings to an extent I had not known was possible.

With my free hand I reached for his, drawing closer to him until our brows touched. 'My dear Edward, there is nothing in the world that would make me happier.'

Reader, I married him.


A/N: I hope you enjoyed reading this alternate ending story :) Please leave a review!