Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy Read Online Free PDF Page B

to hurt poor Joseph, but it was a small price to pay
to free Jane.
    ***
     

Chapter IV – Winter of Despair
    Grimsby Retreat, 16th December 1866.
    Poole’s second visit occurred two days after
I fainted. I stood by the grated window of my new room, looking into the ample
gardens below. Some of the male inmates were employed in gardening chores,
mostly shovelling and digging. I wished I could be let out like the men to work
in the garden. I could breathe fresh air and escape from this tortuous confinement.
I would run away, barefoot even, until my feet were sore and cracked and the
wolves would smell my fear and blood and put me out of my misery.
    “How are you feeling today, Jane?”
    My whole body tensed on hearing his
voice. “I am much better, thank you, Mr. Poole.”
    “Please call me Daniel. We are about to
be good friends, Jane.”
    He smiled and stood so close I could
feel his breath on my hair.
    “Mr. Poole, I’m afraid I must decline
your generous offer. I would like to return to my previous room.”
    “You still think I’m not good enough for
you!” He grasped my shoulders and shook me so hard I thought he would break my arms.
    “Mr. Poole, I can see that you are a
successful and generous man, but I’m afraid I still miss my husband. I cannot
embark upon another relationship at present. I’ve lost two wonderful men in the
last two years. My sadness is absolute.”
    I felt a sharp sting as the back of his
huge hand hurled my face towards the lattice window. I tumbled against the wall
as he fired his foul language at me.
    “Damn you! You conniving liar! You do
not miss your husbands. You were going to marry a young servant. Am I too old
for you? Not good-looking enough?” His hands reached between his legs as he leered
at me. “I assure you I can fill you to the brim, as much as he can.”
    My head was spinning, but I realised my
best option was to try to pacify his anger. “Please, Mr. Poole. Michael was my
servant some time ago, but he is no longer in my service. I assure you I have
no wish to marry him or anyone else. I have learned my lesson. There will be no
more men in my life, except my son, John. He is the only man who will live with
me at Eyre Hall.”
    “You are a liar! And you’ll never return
to Eyre Hall. You have been incapacitated. The archbishop has the power of
attorney until your son returns. You are dead to the world. I am your only
friend, and you are fast making me into an enemy.” He pushed a fat finger into
my chest. “You would not like me as an enemy, Jane.”
    He twisted my arm. “Come, I’ll show you
where you’ll be living if you don’t please me willingly, because, mark my
words, you’ll please me anyway. I would prefer not to have to beat you or
shackle you, but if it’s what you prefer, it can be arranged.” 
    He led me down two flights of stairs and
along the narrow passages, which separated the dungeon-like apartments on
either side of long, snaking galleries. I heard the desperate yells in that
maze of human misery and wondered how long a person could survive in this
vault.
    He kicked open a heavy iron door and
threw me inside. “Would you prefer to stay here?”
    I glimpsed around the stone cell. Water
trickled down the moss-covered walls, and muddy earth and straw covered the
floor. There was a long wooden board fixed to a wall, which I supposed would be
the bed. Shackles dangled above it. I wondered where the wind came from, as
there was no window to be seen. I remembered Bertha’s windowless room where Annette,
her unwanted baby, had inhaled her first breath.
    He pulled me out of the room and pushed
me back up the stairs. “I’ll give you another day to ponder on your future.”
    When he returned, I had made my
decision. I couldn’t bring myself to submit willingly. I preferred to live with
a bruised body than with a broken soul.
    The following day, a short scrawny man
with jerking limbs caught me by my hair and kicked me into the dungeon. I