Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall Read Online Free PDF Page B

Then
he turned me around, pushing me towards the door. “And read them in the exact
order they are placed. Ignore the dates they were written.”
    I walked up to my room in a daze, sat at
my bureau, undid the ribbon, and cast away the coloured paper which revealed a
red velvet box with a golden key. I unlocked it and lifted the lid, revealing a
small bundle of letters packed against the crimson silk lining.  
    Dearest cousin Annette,
    I hope this letter, my sixth,
finds you well. I have written to you every fortnight since we last spoke, in September.
I am sorry that you have not received my previous letters, and neither will you
be receiving this one yet, because it will remain in my possession, for the
moment. This will be my last letter, for now. I will soon be giving all of them
the freedom they deserve by offering them to you, their rightful owner.
    I can hardly wait for the next two
weeks to pass, because then we will meet again at Eyre Hall for Christmas. I
have so many things I want to share with you. I discovered, as I think we both
did, the last time we were together, that our affinity was unique. Ours is a
union that is forged by our family ties and fortified by our exceptional connection.
We will always be part of each other’s lives. Whatever happens, our futures are
knotted, and that certainty makes me a very happy man.
    You are more than a cousin, or a
friend, and more than my betrothed. You are my conscience, my soul, and my
mirror. I more than love you; I admire you and respect you, as I will never
respect any other woman. I long to take your hand in mine, and look into your
bewitching eyes, as you tell me all about your stay in Belgium and your plans
for the spring, because I trust you will not be leaving Eyre Hall again. It
will always be our home.
     Your loving cousin,
    John Eyre Rochester
    I folded the letter and wiped the tear
which had slipped down my cheek with the back of my hand.
    My Dearest Annette,
    Sometimes I dream, Annette. I
dream that now that poor Elizabeth has died and I am free from my engagement,
we could get to know each other better, after all, and decide whether our
attraction was a passing phase or if we have real, lasting feelings for each
other. Feelings which could grow into love and companionship. I know cousins
are allowed a special licence for marriage, and if I was to propose and you
were to accept me, then we could apply.
    I would be master of Eyre Hall,
and you would be the mistress. You would make a fine Mistress of Eyre Hall. We
would have at least six children, boys and girls, some darker like you and my
father, and some blonder, like my mother and me. The first boy would be called Edward,
like my father, and the first girl, Jane, like my mother, but you will chose
the names of all the others. Does that please you? Or would you prefer the
first to be called like your father and your mother? You see, we are already
having our first quarrel! I should love to have these arguments with you, and I
should especially like to make up, after the disagreements.
    I’m sure you are blushing now and
that your eyes are bright with desire, as mine are, and I want to thank you for
those unforgettable, intimate moments we have shared, which will always make
our relationship special, whatever happens in the future.
    I blushed at the memory of our
closeness. We had had a great deal of time on our own. Jane was mostly writing,
reading with Nell, or absent in her own world, and everyone else was away, so
we had had plenty of time for excursions and privacy. John had showed me around
Hay and Millcote, and we even went as far as York one day to visit the Minster.
We kissed and cuddled, and more than once, I had pushed his insistent hands
away from my most intimate secrets, for fear of going beyond propriety and
losing my most valued treasure. He had said he would wait and made me promise
that I should bestow my first and only gift to him, although I was unsure whether
I would be able to keep