JANE

JANE Chapter Sixteen: Wounded

Chapter Sixteen

Wounded

Days and nights continued in a strange pattern as the house guests came and went. Sophie and I tried to maintain our learning routine (her spoken English was nearly perfect), but most evenings there was extra noise and the atmosphere of a party; I didn't mind this. In fact, I enjoyed falling asleep knowing that Sophie had learnt all that was required of her, and more. The atmosphere of the house was often enhanced by these merry parties. It was only occasionally, during dinner, that I was quick to retreat.

The following night, Nicola was making more pointed comments about her dreadful childhood nannies and how they were all, miserable women with few prospects, calling them, dowdy and plain in the nicest possible way. I began to shift uncomfortably in my seat. I felt her comments were directed at me, even though her brother interrupted her and contradicted her. Nicola's opinions were loudly vocalised; enough was enough.

When I slipped out of the room, I heard footsteps following behind me.

'Jane, what's the matter? You look unhappy.' Nathanial said.

'I'm tired. I'm going to bed.'

'Since I returned with The Eatons you haven't been the same.'

Was he trying to make me admit jealousy or was he just not perceptive enough to care?

'Really?' I said, playing cool. 'Perhaps it's since you played that stupid trick pretending to be a fortune teller - as if I would pour all of my thoughts onto your table.'

In his presence, it felt as if my own feelings were a mystery, even to me. Turning at the top of the staircase, I challenged him.

'These days of merriment have been frivolous but mostly fun.' He smiled approvingly.

I didn't tell him about the previous afternoon when I had tried unsuccessfully to unbolt the door that led to the highest floor of Thornton Hall.

Instead, I blurted out, 'As if the dinner conversation wasn't humiliation enough, I have heard screams in the night. Last night, again, I heard a woman's laughter. It was not Mrs Poole who was in the village having dinner with friends. It was not any of your so-called friends.'

'The house is full of guests, Jane. The rooms are packed; sometimes there are hangers on in the music business; I cannot be responsible for every stranger that friends drag in here. It's all a bit of a joke, a bit of summer fun. It will all be over soon,' he shrugged, 'and then everyone will return to their normal life. I doubt the band will last beyond this contract. It's their final album and the others didn't exactly set the world on fire. I'm sorry if they are annoying. The walls are paper thin in these old places; I've been intending to get proper insulation for years. If it's a problem, you could move to a cottage on the estate until my guests leave.'

'Sure,' I said, turning from him. 'In fact, maybe Sophie should come with me,' I said sarcastically, adding, 'since we are both so unwanted.'

He went to take my arm but I shook it free. In truth I was less worried about things that went bump in the night than I was about Nicola Ingram. I wasn't sure how long I could cope with a changed household where I would soon be superfluous. I had no intention of moving to an isolated cottage on the estate, as he well knew. When we reached my room, I said, 'Goodnight.' Turning, I shut the door.

That night I was again woken from my sleep; not by Sophie or Mrs Fairfax but by Rochester.

'What is it?' I whispered. The look on his face was intense and troubled.