Page 32 of Fragile Wicked Things
"I should send him away," Rochester said.
My eyes darted to him, and at first, I opened my mouth in protest, but I thought better of it. Thomas was from the North and didn't know what to expect here, but I knew better—Kansas was no different. I wanted him to stay out of selfishness so I wouldn't be alone.
"Jane…Jane." I looked at Rochester after the second time he called my name.
"Yes."
"I want you…" He hesitated, eyebrows knotted, and he opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Finally, he said "…to dance with me. Give me your hand."
We fastened our masks and joined the others on the dance floor. I felt giddy as I waited for the band to begin. When the music finally started, it wasn't a dance that I knew. Rochester noticed me waver.
"What's wrong?" he said.
"I don't know how to dance to this."
"Didn't Thomas teach you to waltz?" I shook my head. "Then what did he...Never mind. Face me." Rochester placed his right hand on my waist, circling around my back and extended his left to his side, elbow bent, palm facing out. We grasped hands. "Now put your left hand on my right shoulder. Follow my lead, except do the opposite."
Well, that was clear.
Rochester stepped forward, but I moved back too late. He slid his left foot until his feet were together, then stepped back, as I moved forward. We danced to the music as it rose and fell, our bodies moving to its beat around the dance floor. Each time I looked down at our feet, I would stumble.
"Don't look down. Follow me. Feel me, Jane."
I leaned into him and let him guide me, let myself go, and gave myself to him. Dancers spun around, their movements blurred in the background behind him while I stared deep into his eyes, under his spell.
A door flung open. We glided past onto the wraparound stone verandah, the cold hit me at first, then subsided. Rochester spun me, faster and faster, traveling the length of the porch, past windows and doors, around corners. I tilted my head back which gave me the sensation of free-falling. The scotch affected me for nothing seemed right—the background moved at an inhumanly quick pace.
I no longer felt the ground, a cold breeze swept beneath my feet. Rochester spun me faster still. I felt confused and the sheer sensation made me dizzy. Something was not right, but as quickly as we had found ourselves outside, we were back inside, in a different room devoid of people. He held me tight, lowered me onto the sofa until I felt my head rest on a pillow and I waited for the scenery to stop spinning. Rochester leaned close to me.
"Edward," I whispered.
"Catherine." His body moved in a continual motion towards me, but I flung my hand up to his chest to stop him.
"I'm Jane."
* * *
"Mr. Rochester!"Auntie screamed, running towards our car, a ghostly image of her plump body caught by the illumination of the headlights.
Rochester slammed on the brakes and rushed to Auntie. Moments later, I had caught up.
"Is it Catherine?" Rochester said.
"She’s fine. Thomas is with her. Mizzez said there is a wild beast out here."
"Did Thomas check?"
"No sir, I won’t let my grandbaby come out here. There’s an awful sound coming from the stables. Something got in there with the horses, Mr. Rochester."
We stared at the stable in silence, the pounding of my heart drowned out all other sounds. Rochester turned to me and lifted his finger to his lips, indicating silence. Nothing stirred inside, and I believed whatever had been there earlier, must have escaped, but then the hysterical neighing of the horses broke through the silence. Mixed in with their cries lay something else, something deeper, louder, hungrier.
"Jane, take Auntie inside," Rochester said.
Auntie stepped ahead of me, steering towards the house, and when I looked back to Rochester, I saw him rush to the stable. The house door flung open, and there stood Thomas with a rifle in his hand.
"Get inside," he said and hurried towards the stable.
"Thomas, get back," Auntie pleaded.
