Page 13 of Fragile Wicked Things
This made me blush. No one had ever called me lovely or considered me clever, and even though I believed myself more intelligent than most of the girls at Lowood, I would never admit it.
"Edward will return tomorrow, and you'll meet him then. I must warn you—he can be somewhat...well, how should I word it?... Put off."
I wasn't sure if she meant he’d be put off by me, or the reverse.
"ByEdward, do you mean Mr. Rochester, your grandson?" I asked, now that she had mentioned the name a second time. This seemed to take her by surprise, and she looked at me strangely, tilting her head.
"Grandson? Yes, I suppose I can see that. You were informed that he travels for business several days each month? He's always weary before he leaves but returns energized and happy, full of life." Here, her voice trailed off. "Yes, my grandson. That's what it's come to. Pick up that picture," she said, pointing to a photo on her bed table. A young woman I assumed was Catherine, sat in a chair beside a man, his arm wrapped over her shoulder. I surmised he was her husband, Mr. Cousins. They appeared happy, and I could tell that they were to have a child, a daughter who would marry a Rochester and give birth to Edward, I presumed. I reached for it.
"Not that one. The one behind it," she said. The man in that photo seemed to be in his mid-thirties and posed next to the Cadillac, which Buddy had driven me in earlier.
"That's Edward. The car was a birthday present from him. He thought I'd enjoy the wind in my hair." Here, she ran a hand across her braid. "I don't know what he was thinking, but he's much younger now."
"He's handsome, like your husband. I can see the resemblance."
"Yes, my husband." She became silent at the mention of him, and naturally, I assumed he was dead. "Speak to Auntie about my schedule, and I insist you call me Catherine. Oh, and dear, Edward will be quite hard on you but don't take it personally. He expects me to be well cared for, and I'm afraid he doesn't always behave around strangers."
I took my leave of her, happy to have such an agreeable employer and curious about this Edward.
* * *
Long past dinner,Auntie continued instructing me on my job—I had to mark how Catherine's health progressed, what, when and how much she ate, how many hours a day she slept and other details I didn't think were important. She was elderly, but from what I could tell, not sick at all, but rather lonely.
Auntie lived in a cottage at the edge of the Rochesters' land; two housekeepers arrived when the sun rose and left before it went down. Buddy was a hired hand responsible for Rochester's horses and attended to other matters as they developed, which scattered his work schedule. For the most part, Auntie took care of Rochester, but in what manner remained unclear to me.
It was near nine in the evening when I decided to orient myself with the property by going for a walk, starting from the main house and setting out for Auntie's, her porch light acting as a beacon. Auntie told me Thornfield had a maze, and when I strolled by it, I didn't dare go in for fear I'd lose myself in the twilight. Without Theseus by my side, how could I destroy the Minotaur in his labyrinth?
When I began my walk, it was light enough to see, but as I progressed, a grey-blue mist enveloped me and soon became so dense that the light ahead of me disappeared. I spun around to head back, but no light from the mansion was discernible in that fog. Still, I marched forward, certain I traveled in the right direction, but I soon doubted myself and turned around again. I couldn't tell north from south, nor could I swear if I was near the main house, the driveway or the road. I had seen the moon when I first began my walk, but now the mist had masked it, too.
I grew agitated. After some time, I suspected I walked in a circle. Leaning against a weeping willow tree, I rested to catch my breath and shivered when a breeze swept past me, swinging the overhanging leaves. Again, I ventured out into the unknown, determined to make my way back, but the foliage devoured me, intent on keeping me, toying with my growing fear. The countryside grew quiet. Then something rustled a bush near me, and I jumped from fright. A strange noise followed, like a gallop. Was I near the horses? I couldn't have been since I had set out on one side of the house and would have had to cross the driveway to get to the other side.
Quickly, I moved forward and stepped onto the path of a great beast who threw his legs out at me and uttered a neigh. There followed a thud on the ground as something fell from the beast, but I knew my childish imagination got the better of me and that it was a horse I had frightened. A moan came from the darkness, low to the ground. The something that fell was someone.
"Buddy? Buddy, is that you?" I asked.
"Get back here," a voice with a distinct British accent yelled at the horse fleeing into the darkness. "Who's there? Who are you?"
"Jane E." I squinted through the mist but could not make out the man's features.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm a caregiver for Mrs. Cou..."
"I mean, at this time of night, you stupid girl. I could have killed you, or worse, you could have injured my horse."
"I...I got lost. And why are you riding a horse on a night like tonight with a fog this thick?"
The question blurted out, sounding more like an accusation than anything else, which I didn't mean to do. How stubborn of me to argue with a stranger, lost in a fog with no others around. He took a step towards me, and I, one back. No doubt I could outrun him if needed, but when he stepped out from the shadows and stood three feet away, I found myself gazing at Edward Rochester. He was more handsome in person than in the portrait, although his character made him undesirable and the anger in his voice disconcerting.
"I wished to ride when I returned from...Damn it, I don't answer to you."
It was rare for me to hear that language and even rarer for it to be spoken to me in such anger. He glared and ran his eyes over me, but I couldn't tell what he thought—if he was contemplating ending my employment or punishing me for my insolence. He tore off his jacket and held it to me. "Here, you're cold."
"I'm fine," I said between chattering teeth.
"Take it, or you'll catch pneumonia, and I'll need to hire another who will no doubt be more presentable and agreeable."
Thus ended my cordial time at Thornfield. I grabbed the jacket from him, put my arms through the sleeves in a hurry and walked past him.
