Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall Read Online Free PDF

my hand. “Will
you join us for tea in the library?” I nodded and followed them into the cosy
room.
    Although we had been living in the same
house for almost six months, I rarely saw Jane, who spent most of the time in
her room reading with Nell, or writing her novel. We occasionally had lunch or
dinner together, but she seldom spoke, and ate barely enough to nourish a
sparrow.
    At the end of the summer, she had asked
me to take care of household matters, such as menus and dealing with the staff,
especially weekly meetings with the imposing Mrs. Leah. I had agreed because it
was the least I could do to return her kindness to me. In any case, Mrs. Leah
ran the household more effectively than I ever could. Our regular meetings were
a mere formality.         
    I had longed to be back at Eyre Hall was
because I would be seeing John once again. My feelings for John had deepened.
He was in my thoughts often, but I did not know how he felt. We had become very
close during the summer, but he told me once again when he left, that our only
relationship could be as close relatives. He would soon be master of the
Rochester estate, and he had to marry according to his mother’s wishes. I
understood his loyalty, although it pained me greatly. On the other hand, although
my uncle had assured me Mr. Rochester was my father, I was almost sure that it
was a lie. If he had already met Jane, why would he have a child with my mother,
the lunatic he had locked in his attic?
    It often plagued me that I would never
know who my father was, but I knew he had to be a wicked man. Who else would
violate a helpless, mad woman in a cold, damp attic, and abandon his daughter
mercilessly? Indeed, I had no wish to ever meet such a man, but I did often
wonder who he was. Could he have been a servant? An employee? An acquaintance?
A casual visitor? A friend of Mr. Rochester’s? Who else could have had access
to the attic?
    My past was a mystery, and my future was
uncertain. I could not marry the man I loved, so should I marry someone else?
It would have to be a marriage of convenience to a man chosen by my uncle or
Jane, because I would never fall in love again. Yet if I did not marry, what
should I do? I used to enjoy teaching when I was at Saint Mary’s Convent in
Jamaica. Jane would have liked me to be involved in the parish schools in or
near the Rochester estate, but I was no longer interested in teaching. I realised
I must do something to fill my days, but what? I would like to have children of
my own, and be the mother I never had, but would I be a good mother?
    Last night I saw John from my window. He
had returned to Eyre Hall for the Christmas holidays. I had not heard from him
since the summer. Not a letter, not a visit, not even to see his mother. I
supposed he was too busy getting on with his own life to worry about his family
at boring Eyre Hall. I had already retired to my room when he arrived, and
although I longed to rush down and greet him, I realised it would not be
appropriate, so I tossed and turned in my bed all night and rushed down to an
early breakfast the next morning.
    As I expected, I was the first to sit at
the breakfast table. Fred brought in eggs, toast, and bacon. I asked for some
of Cook’s cakes and tea. My stomach was too full of butterflies to be able to
make room for cooked food. John barged in, as he always did when he entered a
room, before I had finished my tea. I stood up and he walked over to me, hugged
me and kissed me on both cheeks as if he were very happy to see me. He was
carrying a package in his hand, which he thrust into mine.
    “I hope you’ve finished breakfast,
because I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now, Annette.”
    “Leave?”     
    “These are your letters. I want you to
go to your room and read them right now, at once! Then come down. I’ll be
waiting for you in the drawing room.”
    I looked down at the ribboned parcel,
quite stunned.
    “Hurry up! Before mother comes down.”