Death of a Schoolgirl: The Jane Eyre Chronicles by Joanna Campbell Slan Read Free Book Online Page B

sense when her child needs her. I do not know, but I believe this to be so. We trust that Adèle is merely petulant, as is her wont to be, but concern speeds Jane on her way (and no little guilt that we have been slow to visit before now).
    You might ask yourself, who is this stranger who dictates such a fawning letter to the wife of his best friend? I imagine you laughing in wonder, as you ask yourself, who is this man I once knew to be so proud—so stern, so angry, so disgusted with life—who now writes like a mewling youth about his loved one?
    I tell you, it is I—and I am Jane Eyre’s husband.
    Yours truly,
    Edward F. Rochester

Chapter 4

    On the road to Millcote, Yorkshire
    The clouds parted, only to regroup and grow darker. Mr. Carter and I hurried along to make the best of the dying sun. The wheels of the carriage crushed the sparse fallen leaves, forcing them to release their spicy dying fragrance. The horse pulled the two-wheeled carriage down the country road with ease.
    “I hope you will not misjudge me,” said Mr. Carter with a nod at his phaeton. “I bought this secondhand from a young man in London, who lost his allowance playing cards. It is both light and fast, which makes it perfect for traveling from one needy patient to another.”
    While I admit the bright yellow wheels had rather surprised me, I found no reason to complain. The phaeton took the bumps better than most carriages I had ridden in. Since rain threatened, the doctor lifted the roof and secured it over us. Luckily the bad weather held off. Our progress was steady, but by no means fast.
    Mr. Carter proved an interesting conversationalist, quite knowledgeable about the area tenants. He pointed out thisfarm and that, telling me about the inhabitants. “The past few years have been hard on them, Mrs. Rochester. The charity baskets from the church keep most of them going. But that is not enough for the families with young ones. Their children present with hollow eyes, thin limbs, and enormous bellies. Their eyes stare out into an uncertain future.”
    I remembered the incessant pang of hunger, how a lack of food could bring lethargy to one’s limbs and render clear thinking difficult, if not impossible. Thinking of the children and their needs, their helplessness in the face of such misery, caused tears to prickle my eyes. I knew full well how hard it could be to sustain hope, much less to believe in a brighter future. Poverty for me was synonymous with degradation. In the pursuit of survival, dignity was the first virtue to be cast aside.
    My own wealth was of such a recent vintage that I did not dare take it for granted. Since God above had blessed me so richly, I could not ignore the urge to give back.
    I resolved then and there that I would assist the church with its good works, and I would endeavor to sponsor a small school in the nearby hamlet, as my cousin St. John Rivers had done for peasant girls in his parish outside of Morton. Such efforts were easily within my reach. They would make me more useful to Edward and to our tenants.
    When we arrived at the Farrow house, Mr. Carter saw to not one but two Farrow children with the croup. Mrs. Farrow proved a good hostess, if an overly curious one, feeding us and asking nonstop questions. I sidestepped most of them as best I could without being rude. Her husband had his own queries. They both wanted to know more about Edward Rochester’s girl bride, but I feared their interest was unwholesome, especially when they asked our wedding date and the date of Ned’s birth in an obvious attempt to calculate his legitimacy.
    As I crawled under the down coverlet that night, I worried about Adèle before moving on to missing little Ned andEdward. I wondered if I would get along with Lucy Brayton. I hoped I would not embarrass myself with my lack of social polish. Again and again, I wondered about Adèle. What would I find? How was she? Why hadn’t she written to us, a real letter, an honest