Read Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall Online
Authors: Luccia Gray
Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall
Twelfth Night at Eyre
Hall
By Luccia Gray
Text copyright ©
2015 Lucia Garcia Magaldi
All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 978–84–608–1408–5
For my grandsons Alejandro and Michael,
who dream of action and adventures at sea.
Twelfth
Night at Eyre Hall is the second volume of The Eyre Hall Trilogy, which
chronicles the lives and vicissitudes of the residents of Eyre Hall from the
beginning to the height of the Victorian era.
Following
Edward Rochester’s death, Jane Eyre, who has been blackmailed into marrying a
man she despises, will have to cope with the return of the man she loved and
lost. The secrets she has tried so hard to conceal must be disclosed, giving
rise to unexpected events and more shocking revelations.
Romance,
mystery, and excitement will unfold, based on the lives of the original
characters, while bringing to life new and intriguing ones, spinning a unique
and absorbing narrative, which will move the action from the Yorkshire
countryside, to Victorian London, and across the Atlantic Ocean to colonial
Jamaica.
Rediscover the world of Jane Eyre...
1
Chapter I – Midshipman Kirkpatrick
1
Chapter III – Annette Receives John’s Letters
1
Chapter IV – Lunch at Thorpe House
1
Chapter V – Mr. Mason Returns
1
Chapter VI – Christmas Dinner
1
Chapter VII – Upheaval at Eyre Hall
1
Chapter VIII – Captain Carrington’s Advice
1
Chapter IX – Mrs. Banks’ Letter
1
Chapter X – Saint Stephen’s Day Lunch
1
Chapter XII – New Year’s Eve Ball
1
Chapter XIII – The Innocents
1
Chapter XIV – Mr. Dickens Visits Eyre Hall
1
Chapter XV – Simon Travels to London
1
Chapter XVI – Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall
1
Chapter XVII – Helen’s Mother
1
Chapter XVIII – Murderers Confess
1
Chapter XX – Michael’s Proposal
1
Part Three: The Devil’s Little Days
1
Chapter XXI – The Rochester Siblings
1
Chapter XXII – A Brawl at Eyre Hall
1
Chapter XXIV – Dr. Carter’s Request
1
Chapter XXV – More Secrets Unveiled
1
Chapter XXVI – John’s Decision
1
Chapter XXVII – Tranquil Intermission
1
Chapter XXIX – The Voyage Out
1
“I
have not broken your heart – you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have
broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What
kind of living will it be when you – oh, God! Would you like to live with your
soul in the grave?”
Heathcliff,
Wuthering Heights, Chapter 15
'The pain of parting is nothing to
the joy of meeting again.”
Nicholas Nickleby
, Chapter 1
Bay of
Biscay, November 1866.
A raging gale had been roaring ruthlessly,
tossing our frigate against the choppy grey waters of the Bay of Biscay, rain
soaking through our clothes on the waterlogged deck.
The lookout shouted and waved his arms
frantically, signalling the arrival of a boat to starboard. I rushed to the
railings and saw a small vessel propelled by oars in the hands of four drenched
men struggling to keep from capsizing. The boat leapt on the waves before
finally drawing up alongside H.M.S. Princess Helena. I hailed it in and
signalled for help. The men who rushed to my side helped me pull up the thick,
wiry rope that gashed our numbed fingers.
The first three men climbed up, but the
fourth older and heavier occupant slipped down, unable to grasp the ladder. I
slid down to the boat and pulled up the large, limp body of the worn–out
mariner, who looked as if his days at sea had been too many, and his present
plight too exhausting to live through the ordeal. He coughed and retched before
collapsing onto the deck.
“Take the captain down to the surgeon,
now!”
My order was obeyed instantly, and the
near cadaver disappeared from our sight.
“We’re dangerously close to the
waterline!” shouted Blains. The terrified look from such an experienced man
meant we were in trouble.
I had already learned that I should
never give an order I wasn’t prepared to carry out myself. Although I was
exhausted and shivering violently, I ripped off my shirt and bailed out more
water while shouting at my men to do the same.
Hours later, when the storm had
relented, our limbs exhausted and muscles aching from overwork, Blains
approached me. ‘The waterline is well visible. Perhaps you should get some dry
clothes on, sir.’
It struck me then that I was indeed the
senior rank on deck, and their lives and the ship had been in my hands all
night, perhaps even longer. I examined the exhausted sailor. “You could do with
a rest yourself, Blains.”
“I’ve been here all night, sir, but
you’ve doubled shifts. You’ve been on deck for forty–eight hours!”
I looked down at my rolled–up trousers, mostly
ripped and dripping with brine. Then I looked around the deck floor. Various men
lay limp and unconscious. I sighed with exhaustion and impotence, and then threw
a groaning body over my shoulder.
“I’ll take him down to the surgeon, but
I’ll be back soon. Meanwhile tell those who are still standing and able to work
to hold the masts, tie the sails, and keep scooping out the water.”
Blains nodded and turned back to work.
Below deck, the vastness and rage of the
waters seemed to diminish, my ringing ears felt drowned and deaf, and my body
weightless and weary.
Cries, mingled with the sour smell of
stale blood, greeted me as I approached the surgery. The surgeon wiped the
sweat off his face with bloodstained sleeves and sighed as he examined the man
I had dragged in. He pushed him to the side angrily.
“This one is almost dead! Don’t bring
them down unless I can help them! I have two hands and enough to do.”
He turned away from me and I watched his
hunched back curl over his patients.
“Where should I take them?”
“Leave them on deck for the time being.
Don’t waste time or strength on the dead.”
“I can’t do that. They’ll surely die on
deck without attention.”
“Then find somewhere else for them to
die! I don’t want them dying here. They’ll get in my way. Bring me the ones I
can save. Don’t bring me any more dead bodies. This is a surgery, not a
morgue!”
“How shall I know who to save?”
“Look into their eyes, see if there’s
life left in them, or hold their pulse, here.” He thrust his hand onto my neck
and pushed. “If it beats strongly bring him up, if it is weak, take him
anywhere you like, but not here.”
“I can’t make those decisions. I’m midshipman.”
“Seems to me you’re the only one who can
make decisions at the moment. Lieutenant Ramsey is dead, and Captain Carrington
is too sick to open his eyes, the other midshipmen are obeying your orders, so
it’s up to you to decide, Patrick.”
My ears were ringing, and I could hardly
understand the words he was saying. I must have looked dazed because he grabbed
my arm, shaking me back to my senses.
“Wake up man, this is the real world.
It’s what you came here for, isn’t it? You’re not on a passenger cruise ship!
This is a bloody warship in a storm, protecting Her Majesty’s merchandise from
French privateers! Get back up there and do your duty. Save this ship and as
many lives as you can!”
I hesitated, too stunned to utter a
word, before turning to leave the surgery.
“One more thing, Patrick. Remember this:
‘what the sea wants, the sea will have’, and you can’t do anything to change
that.”
“My name is Midshipman Kirkpatrick, sir.
I’d be obliged if you remembered it.”
He ignored my comment and turned back to
his patient. “We’ll bury the dead at sea tomorrow.”
“But we’ll be back in England next week!
Their families can bury them.”
He turned back to look at me and spoke
softly. “Too long. They can’t stay on board or we’ll all die.”
Those words broke my heart more than the
sight of the corpses themselves. We had never buried my father.
“You’re a good man, Patrick, and you’ll
make a good captain one day, although I’ll never see it. This is my last voyage
and the captain’s too, if you ask me, although the devil looks after his own,
doesn’t he?”
I went back up to the deck with my men
until the storm ceased at sunrise, and we were able to rest our worn–out limbs,
for a few hours, at last.
***
The doctor insisted on a speedy sea
burial, so the next morning the bodies of the dead were delivered to the waves.
The captain was still bedridden, and the doctor said he was too busy preventing
more deaths to attend, so I said the Lord’s Prayer as their bundled bodies,
sewn in sailcloth, were cast into the waters. I hoped my father’s burial had
been witnessed by a similar crew, whose bare heads had also bowed in respect
for their dead comrades.
I watched the bundles sink into the
hungry dark waters and later recorded their names and place of death in the
ship’s log, so that their wives and children could engrave the date on their
tombstones, as my mother had done.
That evening, I could not find rest, so
I returned to the deck to pray for the dead. The sea was as still as a mirror,
alight with the sparkling moon and starlight. It would have been a beautiful
sight if my eyes had not been clouded by the curse of emptiness.
I dug the red button out of my jacket
pocket and held it up to the waxing moon. The moonbeams flowed through the its
holes, taking on the tint of its red colour, and confusing my stunned eyes into
seeing a vision of soft pale skin and long auburn hair. I had willed myself not
to think about Jane, although it was impossible to forget the reason I was a
living corpse.
I had left her because I was a coward. I
could not bear to see her marrying another man, and yet I knew she needed me,
and that she might not have married him if I had stayed, but I had been unprepared
to take the risk.
That night was not the first time I had
seen mermaids with hair the colour of the sea and skin like mother of pearl
calling me with their sweet songs. Sailors say they entice men into the water
and then turn into fierce creatures with fangs, who drag them to the bottom of
the sea where they are devoured.
I wished they would devour me, so my
agony would end. I came to sea to forget her, or die like my father, yet I was
condemned to remember and survive.
When daylight crept over the sky, I went
down to my shared quarters, put dry clothes over my shivering body, held the
button firmly in my hand, and slept for the first time in days. Hours later, Blains’
staunch hand shook my shoulder and told me the captain wanted to see me in his
quarters, at once.
***
Captain Carrington looked up from his
desk and waved a hand towards the chair facing him, and then busied himself
with some papers, seeming to ignore my presence.
It was rumoured that he had spent so
long waiting for a captain’s commission, that his hair had turned white and his
skin grey. His face was dented with deep ridges that cut his hollow cheeks, and
his head and stomach were unusually large compared to his scrawny limbs. I
wondered how he had become so overweight with the meagre portions we ate while
at sea.
He folded a document, which looked like
a letter, and then stared at me before addressing me at last. “Sit down. Why
are you here, Midshipman Kirkpatrick?”
“I wanted to be in the navy, like my
father, sir.” I had said the words so often I had convinced myself they were
true.
“Who are you running away from?”
I took a few seconds to reply to his unexpected
question. “I have never run away from any man, sir.”
“I can believe that.”
His eyes dug into mine, once again.
“Cold blood. Determination. I’ve seen you kill without a second thought, when
you needed to.”
The crew were mostly decent, self–respecting
men, who worked hard and obeyed the regulations. However, there had been a few
blackguards of the worst sort, tough merciless men who stole rum and
provisions, slept on guard, and increased the workload of the rest of the crew.
Many of them had served their time in prison, where they should have remained.
A group of such criminals had provoked a mutiny threatening the captain’s life shortly
before our arrival in Jamaica. In spite of being flogged for not joining their
criminal uprising, I managed to escape with the help of a few brave and loyal
sailors and suppressed the rebellion by slaying the scoundrels.
“I’m prepared to do what is necessary
for my ship and the crew, sir.” I was relieved that the conversation had returned
to professional matters.
“Then it’s a woman you are running away
from.” He smiled wryly, and I knew there was no point in denying it. I could
not imagine how he knew, because we had never spoken about personal matters. “Not
a woman, sir. A very special lady.”
“They are all special to someone, my boy.
Beyond your station, perhaps? Her family didn’t think you were good enough, did
they?”
“Something like that, sir.”
“So you came here to fix that, did you?
To prove that you’re worthy of the damsel?”
“I came to forget.” I had not spoken to
anyone about Jane since I left Eyre Hall and it was more painful than I had
imagined.
“Of course, to forget.” He nodded
mockingly, pressed his fingers on the mahogany desk and raised himself up
painfully, swearing as he limped around the cabin. He stopped behind me, breathing
down my neck. “But you can’t, can you? She is in your thoughts, under your
skin, inside your blood, and you cannot pull her out. You smell her before you
fall asleep and touch her in your dreams, don’t you?”
I was relieved that he stood behind me.
I needed time to compose myself. How could he know how I felt if I did not
understand my feelings myself?
“And when you wake up, your whole body
misses her, and your heart aches to hear her voice, you long to look into her
eyes, preferably looking up to you from beneath.” I felt his hand on my
shoulder. “Am I right, Kirkpatrick?”
I was silent, containing my breathing.
How could he know?
“So, what are you going to do about it,
man?”
“Nothing, sir. It’s impossible.”
He returned to his seat, staring at me
again. “And if you were to return as a commissioned officer, as a lieutenant.
Would that make it easier to convince her father?”
“No, sir. It would not.”
“Interesting, no father.” He shuffled the
papers on his desk then looked up. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get
yourself killed almost every day since we set sail six months ago, Lieutenant?”
“I’m not a lieutenant, sir.”
“You’re a dangerous and valuable man who
can kill with one hand and plan the mathematical coordinates of the ship with
the other. Your father would have been proud of you, and, one day, so will your
beloved’s family.”
“Thank you, sir, for your concern, but
I’m afraid not, sir. The lady is out of the question.”
“Then you’ll have to replace her.”
“Never.”
“Admirable self–control and loyalty. I
presume she must be married?”
“She is beyond my reach, sir.”
“You were a valet at a country estate
before enlisting, am I right?”
I nodded.
“I don’t think a young maid would have
made you flee, or rejected you, and seeing the ambition and astuteness in your
eyes, I added two and two, and realised it must have been the mistress of the
house, or her daughter. Which was it?”