Deliverance : an adaption of Jane Eyre

Chapter 1

Author's note

This is one of those 'what if' adaptations. I've always wondered why Mr Rochester had to be broken so thoroughly before he could be happy with Jane Eyre. What if she had not been able to get away, what if he had been waiting by her door a second time, pleading her to stay? Would she indeed have lost herself and been made his mistress? Or would they have managed to live together as brother and sister?

The story starts at the end of chapter 27, when Jane has gathered her meagre personal belongings in a parcel, tied on her straw bonnet, pinned on her shawl and steals away from her room.

Chapter 1

'Jane..'

My master's voice sounded in the dark of the hallway, transformed beyond recognition...by my own racked conscience no doubt. I was merely hearing things in the fevered haste of my departure. Though almost certainly still wide awake, Mr Rochester would not be out there, outside my door for the second time that night, he must be in his own room, pacing from wall to wall with restlessness caused by guilt and passion. He did not expect me to leave.

I headed towards the stairs, silently bidding farewell to kind Mrs Fairfax and dear Adele, dreading the moment I'd have to pass my master's door, would have to resist the temptation to embrace delirious joy and sin.

'Jane..'

I had not imagined the voice! Though further away this time, its anguish was unmistakable, where was its strength? Its certainty to be heard and obeyed?

Though still driven by the phantom of my dream and my own sense of self-worth, I could not help turning around to face that voice. I saw nothing but dark, however much my eyes strained to discern the beloved shape of my master, now in dire need.

'So you meant what you said, you are leaving, and without so much as a word of farewell, or a sovereign on you?'

I nodded, unable to withstand that voice, the love in it, the pain. He wouldn't see in the pitch dark, but he would know.

By now, my resolve was wavering, my shock at having been caught held me motionless; the sound of suffering in Mr Rochester's voice drained my energy to virtually nothing. The worst day of my life had seamlessly flowed into the next, and I was suddenly tired to the death.

'I'm so sorry I ruined everything, dear Jane, will you not let me make it up to you? Do you truly wish to tear both our hearts out? Live loveless and destitute among strangers, with not just the agony of your own bleeding heart, but knowing I'll go savage with pain and guilt?

You've seen me desperate, Jane, do you think I'll not be howling mad within a week?'

There was no way I could leave, my legs refusing to bear my weight any longer I could not run from my master, nor did I want to. I wanted that voice to find a semblance of peace, and then I wanted to sleep, preferably never to wake up again. Could I yet avoid giving my master what he craved, what he needed to be happy? Didn't he deserve to be happy, for once in his life, even if it cost me my self-respect, the only thing I had left after having my love desecrated and my hopes crushed?

'Jane, will you please stay, and make my life worth living?'

How I ached to feel those arms around me, to embrace that solid chest, to stroke that raven hair and kiss that stern brow. If I went to him, he would be strong again, and I so needed that strength, for I had none left of my own.

He did not pick me up this time; for minutes, nothing happened. I sought support against the wall or I would have fallen down, to which my pride objected, its last feeble convulsion before I smothered it to death and delivered myself to a life of denigration and servitude. To be a mistress, how the very thought repulsed me, how I would loathe myself the rest of my life, but I needed to be loved right now or perish; and I could not condemn my master to solitude and self-destruction, I'd rather die on the inside myself.