Midsummer at Eyre Hall: Book Three Eyre Hall Trilogy (21 page)

“If you agree to my proposal, you will
be able to oversee him and make all the necessary decisions regarding their
future. I trust you both to be caring and sensible parents. If Max does not
marry your daughter, I would like to ask you to make sure he marries someone he
loves and respects.”

“If they don’t marry, what will happen
to Manderley?” asked Mrs. Kirkpatrick.

“If they don’t marry, my son will pay
you half of its value and you and Helen will be free to leave, once he is
twenty-three.”

“Twenty-three,” repeated Mrs.
Kirkpatrick thoughtfully, and I wondered if she had realised I had chosen that
precise age because when my son was twenty-three, Helen would be eighteen, an
excellent age to marry.

“A trust fund will be set up for my son
to cover all the running costs of Manderley and the estate, which you will also
manage, until my son is twenty-three.”

They sat down again and watched me in
silence.

“Does that satisfy you?” I asked.

“Your offer is generous. Mr. de Winter.
Your petition is unusual, but understandable. However, you must realise that I
will need to discuss it further with my husband, before we come to a decision.”

“Of course. I am aware that my request
is a challenge, but believe me, I have meditated carefully on this matter and you
are my only hope.”

Mrs. Kirkpatrick took her husband’s hand
and stood. “We will inform you of our decision when we return from Eyre Hall,
Mr. de Winter.” As I had imagined, she would decide.

“I hope you are not too long.
Unfortunately, my time is limited, and as you must understand, this matter is
pressing.” 

They promised to return with an answer
in the first week of July. I was satisfied that the negotiations had gone
better than I had hoped. My unexpected tears had no doubt softened their
hearts. I was convinced they would look after this property and my son better
than anyone else I knew.

I had made enquiries in London regarding
Mrs. Kirkpatrick, who had been married to a wealthy Yorkshire landowner and had
managed his large estate until her son had taken over. I had discovered she was
indeed the caring and intelligent woman I had envisaged, as well as a shrewd
businesswoman, and a respected writer. Mr. Kirkpatrick was no match for his
stunning wife, but I could see the ambition and tenacity of his character,
which would influence my son positively. I smiled as I drained my brandy. I had
made a good choice for my son’s future. I prayed to God that they would accept
the challenge. 

***

The journey to Eyre Hall was long and
tiring. We took a carriage to Bristol, where we had to spend the night because
I was feeling weary, and Michael insisted I should rest. We spent the night at
the same hotel we had stayed on our escape six months earlier. Michael told
Helen an embellished version of the story over dinner. The next day we caught a
train to Manchester, which took almost six hours due to delays and roadworks on
the line. Fortunately, we were in a private carriage with padded seats and
backs, so Helen slept for most of the journey, and I dozed, while Michael
looked thoughtfully out of the window and kept asking me how I was every few
minutes. He seemed to think I was as fragile as a snowflake in a blizzard, but apart
from occasional dizziness, I had never felt better.

I had complained of tiredness a few days
before the journey and Michael had said we should cancel it, but I reminded him
that we needed to close this chapter in our lives, and it had to be done
personally. We had to reach financial agreements with Mr. Smythe and John, and
see the family one last time as a married couple instead of the fugitives they
had last encountered.

The heavy gates were thrown open, and
our carriage rolled along the drive to Eyre Hall. I viewed the familiar trees
on either side with indifference. Michael was holding my hand and watching me
anxiously, so I smiled reassuringly. Minutes later, the carriage stopped in
front of the house.

Adele and Mr. Greenwood were having
lemonade in the garden when we approached the front door. Adele rushed up to us
and embraced me with such energy that Michael interrupted, pulling her away
from me, complaining that I was tired. 

“Don’t be so picky Michael; you’ve had
Jane all to yourself for months.”

“Not long enough, Adele. She has only
been my wife for a few weeks. I’m extremely possessive now that Jane is Mrs.
Kirkpatrick, at last.”

Adele made a dismissive gesture with her
hand and grabbed my arm once again. “Jane darling, I’ve never seen you look so
well. You were always so slim, but now your bones seem to have melted under
your flesh.”

“It was over a year ago when you last
saw me.”

“Your face, it looks so round and happy.
I’m sure I wouldn’t recognise you. And your hair.” She put her hand under my
bonnet, “It’s curly and loose. Is it a disguise? You know you’re not in hiding
anymore.”

I looked at Michael and smiled. “Michael
likes my hair loose. It’s not curled, this is my natural wave. Worry not,
Adele, tomorrow I’ll wear a suitable velvet gown with a matching headdress.”

“Would you like me to help you dress,
like I used to?”

“Thank you, Adele, but I’ll be helping
Jane with anything she needs,” said Michael, losing his patience.

Adele raised an eyebrow. “Don’t be a
bully, just because you’re her husband.”

Michael’s expression darkened. I spoke
quickly to avoid further discussion. “Adele, Michael is my husband.” I pulled
my arm through his. “And I’m also his proud wife, and I forbid you to vex him.”

She looked at us both and huffed.
“What’s Cornwall like?”

“Cornwall is a beautiful part of
England. I feel very happy at Primrose Cottage. It’s like a primrose, a happy
wild flower, which grows freely all over the meadow by our cottage. There’s an
enormous pond, a natural one, very nearby, and there are plenty of bluebells,
and giant rhododendrons and rhubarb. You must come and visit one day.”

“We will. Come, have some lemonade and
tell us more about Cornwall.” Adele tried to pull my arm, but Michael insisted
we needed to wash, rest and change. He suggested we could talk later. I noticed
Adele didn’t even look at Helen, who had been standing by my side the whole
time. I was saddened that Adele couldn’t find it in her heart to love her. I
hugged and kissed my daughter as we walked towards the main door.

“You know Michael and I love you more
than anyone in the world, don’t you, Helen?” She smiled and nodded.

I was still holding Michael’s left arm
as we went up the steps. He squeezed my hand and asked me if I was all right. I
was having difficulty walking up the steps because my legs were weak after the
long drive and I felt a weight in my head. I told him I was very tired.

“We’ll rest until tomorrow, no dinner or
exhausting conversation tonight. We’ll have a bath. I have some oils for your
feet and legs.”

It was so easy to love Michael when he
looked after me as if I were the queen, and to think that they wanted to keep
him away from me. I looked up at the tower and the bedroom I had slept in for
over fifteen years. I shivered and hoped we could have our old room in the new
wing as Annette had promised.

I felt Michael stiffen at the sight of
Fred opening the front door.

“Pleased to see you Mrs. Ma…”

Michael interrupted him. “Mr. and Mrs.
Kirkpatrick, Fred. Which are our rooms? We’re tired. We’ll have dinner
upstairs.”

“I have instructions to show you to your
rooms in the new wing.”

Michael pushed past him inside the
house. “No need to show us. We know where our rooms are. Bring up our luggage.
It’s in the carriage.”

We walked towards the main staircase. “Jane,
I’ll carry you, there are too many stairs.”

“I’m all right, darling. You must be
tired too.”

The drawing room door opened and a pram
emerged. Seconds later, Susan appeared pushing the handlebar with Dante at her
side. They stopped when they saw us. Michael cringed again. He looked away,
stooped to lift me in his arms and strode up the stairs.

I put my arms around his neck and
whispered, “Michael, please speak to your sister. She’ll be upset. You have a
nephew. Let’s forget what happened, darling.”

He pressed me closer and kissed the top
of my head. “You and Helen are my only family from now on, Jane. I have no
sister and no nephew.”

I understood why Michael felt anger
towards his sister. I was sure she thought she was helping her brother by
contacting my son when we were outlaws. In any case, her son wasn’t to blame,
but I was too tired to argue.

Helen slept in the adjacent room and I
let Michael pamper me with massaging oils and whispered loving endearments. I
had become used to the slow and careful way he made love to me, which made me
feel so cherished. He had been especially gentle since he had returned from
Eyre Hall with Helen, and today he had been so tender and caring that I
dissolved into his desire and fell asleep in his arms, while we were still one.

We were fast asleep when we heard a
knock on the door. It was midnight, but Annette said she would like us to go
down to the library to sign the papers Mr. Smythe had prepared, because there
would be no time to do so tomorrow before the wedding. We did so reluctantly. I
convinced Michael I wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

We walked into the library holding hands
and instinctively turned to the fireplace. Our rug was still there. Michael
kissed me and whispered in my ear, “I love you, Mrs. Kirkpatrick.”

Mr. Smythe was overjoyed to see me.
Michael smiled as our solemn accountant hugged me and joked, saying Smythe was
the only man he would allow to hug me so enthusiastically in his presence.

“I have told my grandchildren about our
confrontation with the Caribbean pirate many times. I shall never forget that
fateful day. Congratulations, Mr. Kirkpatrick, your wife is the bravest,
cleverest, and most beautiful lady I have ever met. You will do well to look
after her. May I compliment you, madam, you look better than ever.”

Michael laughed and shook his hand. “My
wife is my most valued treasure, Mr. Smythe.”

John, who had been observing, sat grimly
behind the desk I had so often used, his face tight and his jaw clenched. He
didn’t look like a man who was about to marry the woman he loved. Annette
smiled by his side and motioned us to sit on the chairs on the opposite side of
the table.

My son handed me a piece of paper. “Mr.
Smythe thinks this is a fair price.” He handed me a cheque. I read the amount
and nodded. Then I showed it to Michael. He said nothing, but squeezed my arm.

“It’s a fair amount, John. I accept it.”

“In exchange for Eyre Hall and the
Rochester Estate from this moment?”

“Yes, of course.”

My son looked back at me for a long
time. I wasn’t sure if his look denoted anger or surprise. It was much less
than the value of the house, but it was enough to buy our part of Manderley,
thanks to Mr. de Winter’s generous offer, and there was also enough for
Michael’s business plans. I held his stare and smiled. There was still some
more negotiation to carry out.

“I’d like you to continue sending Adele
a monthly allowance,” I said.

“I think her wedding settlement was
generous enough. Mr. Greenwood should look after her now.”  

 “John, your father looked took care of
Adele all his life, as if she were his daughter, and so did I. I’m sure he
would have wanted her to maintain a personal allowance from the Rochester
Estate.”

John glared at me. Michael squeezed my
hand and glared back at my son, moving his shoulders forward, warning him not
to be disrespectful to me.

Mr. Smythe broke the tense moment. “I
didn’t have the pleasure of meeting your father, Mr. Rochester, but I’m sure
your mother knew his wishes better than anyone.” John hit the table and stood.
I wondered if he was going to let his temper ruin our agreement.

Mr. Smythe spoke quickly. “Perhaps in
the autumn, when the accounts have been balanced, we can negotiate a suitable
allowance for Mrs. Greenwood. What do you say, Mr. Rochester?” 

Annette touched his arm gently. “Please,
John. Mr. Greenwood is not a rich man.”

He shook his head in defeat. “Very well,”
he said.

Annette reached out her hand and drew
him back to his chair.

“Will you keep the staff?” I asked.

“Leah, Cook, and Joseph are still here.
They can remain if they wish, although we may have to renegotiate their
salaries and conditions. The rest left when you did.”

“I had an agreement with Mr. Raven and
Harry’s father, Dr. Carter, regarding their lease. It was negotiated by Mr.
Briggs.”

“I have been informed, Mother. I always
wondered if there were any more secrets. So, it was not only my father who
covered up…”

Michael stood. “I would be careful how
you address my wife, Mr. Rochester.” My son also stood and Michael continued,
leaning towards him. “Unless you’d like to be a bruised groom.”

Mr. Smythe coughed. “Gentlemen,
gentlemen, please. The agreement is almost signed.” He lowered his hands,
inviting them to be seated. “Let us let bygones be bygones. The new owner must
naturally respect the signed leasehold. In any case, Dr. Carter has left
Ferndean and agreed to an annulment of his father’s contract, and Mr. Raven has
agreed to renegotiate his annual rent.”

I turned to Annette. “I was wondering if
you would continue to see to it that the parish schools and the church are well-equipped
and the staff paid.”

Annette was about to reply when John
raised his hand. “We’ll see about that when we balance the accounts, not
before. The estate is a mess, thanks to…”

Michael stood and held out his hand to
me. “Jane’s tired. It’s been a very long journey.” I rose and he turned to Mr.
Smythe. “Is there anything Jane should sign?”

He opened his briefcase and placed some
papers on the desk. “Would you like some time to read the documents, Mrs.
Kirkpatrick?”

I took the quill he offered and sat down
to sign the document. “Of course not, Mr. Smythe. I trust you completely.” I
turned to my son. “John, please listen to Mr. Smythe’s advice. He is an
admirable accountant and an honest person.”

My son pursed his lips in reply and
asked me if I wanted anything in the house. I looked at Michael and smiled.
“The rug by the fireplace. We’d like to take it back to Cornwall, if you don’t
mind.”

John looked at the rug first, and then
at us and clenched his fists. “Of course not.” He ground his jaw. “Anything
else?”

His eyes were black and there were dark
shadows below. I wondered why he was so unhappy. Was it because I was holding
Michael’s hand? Or because he hadn’t managed to keep us apart or make me come
back to Eyre Hall and fulfil the role of disconsolate widow to his father?
Whatever it was, I didn’t care anymore. I squeezed Michael’s hand. We had done
it. We could start a new life away from Eyre Hall, at last.

“Nothing else, thank you.”

“Wouldn’t you like any of your
jewellery, Mother?”

“No, I’d like Annette to have it all.”

“Thank you, Jane,” said Annette. “But
when Helen is older, she’s welcome to choose some of the jewels for herself.”

“Thank you, Annette. I’ll let her know
you made such a generous offer.”

“What about any of the paintings,
Mother? You were very fond of the Gainsborough in the dining room.”