My Plain Jane (The Lady Janies #2)(79)

Charlotte took Jane’s stockings out of a drawer and folded them. “I agree, dear. But then, I’ve never met someone who was supposed to be mad.”

“It almost seemed . . .” Jane paused. “It almost seemed like if we loosened her restraints and sat down to tea, we could have a—”

She was interrupted by a rap at the door.

“Jane?” Rochester’s voice came through the thick oak.

Jane held a finger to her lips and met Charlotte’s eyes.

“I just want to leave,” Jane whispered. Charlotte nodded and placed the stockings in the trunk.

Helen ghosted in and noticed the packing. “Oh, good, we’re leaving.”

Three more strikes against the door.

“Jane, please. I’m sorry it all happened as it did, but I was desperate. Have you ever been so desperate, Jane? Have you ever been so hungry, you would do anything for bread? So cold, you would do anything for warmth? So tired, you would do anything for rest?”

Jane closed her eyes. She knew that feeling. She knew Charlotte knew that feeling as well. Helen’s head burst into flames.

Helen had a point. Jane never would have deceived someone so, as Mr. Rochester had deceived her. Not to mention the fact that she never would’ve had someone possessed to get her way.

The thought made her stomach roll.

Another knock. “Jane. You are the most radiant thing I’ve ever seen. Remember when you bewitched my horse on that road?”

Charlotte raised her eyebrows at Jane, and Jane shook her head and pointed at Helen, who shook her flaming head and pointed at Jane.

“I knew then that you had come here to change my life. I knew then that the happiness, which had eluded me so far, had come to me at last.”

Jane couldn’t take it anymore. “How can you say such things? I am, by all living accounts, plain.”

“Did you see what I was married to?” Rochester said.

“Oh, bother,” Helen said.

Jane rolled up her sketches and paintings and Charlotte tucked away her brushes.

“Jane, it doesn’t matter if I’m married, because I would be satisfied having you merely as a companion. A sister, almost. We could live in a villa I have in the South of France.” He knocked again, this time with more force. “Jane, we would have separate living compartments, and we would only spare a kiss on the cheek for birthdays.”

“Please, stop talking, Mr. Rochester,” Jane said. “I am not interested in that.”

“You are the love of my life.”

“Which life is that? Because you seem to be living so many.”

“But we had something special, didn’t we? I know you felt it, too.”

Jane stamped her foot. “You lie and manipulate and twist until you get your way. You proposed to me, even though you have a wife, who’s conveniently locked away in the attic, and when I asked for more time, you had me possessed! So no, I don’t think I will live with you in the South of France as sodding brother and sister!”

The flames in Helen’s hair sputtered out. Charlotte stood frozen. Jane’s eyes were wide as if she couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of her mouth.

Jane was about to crack a smile, when a loud thump came at the door. And then another. And another.

“Jane, open the door!” Rochester’s voice was enraged. “Open the door!”

Louder thuds sounded, as if Rochester were throwing the full weight of his body at the solid oak.

Jane looked around for something to defend them with, but there was only a hairbrush and then pieces of furniture that were too big for them to wield as weapons.

“Maybe the window?” Charlotte said.

“We can’t possibly use the window as a weapon,” Jane said.

“No, to escape.”

They ran across the room and looked out the glass, but Jane’s bedchamber was three floors up. And below them, the ground was all packed dirt and grass.

“I’ll go first,” Helen said. She ghosted through the window and floated to the ground. “Now you!”

Jane waved her off. “Quick, Charlotte. The dresser!”

Thud. “Jane, you may not see it now, but soon, I will make you see!” Thud.

Jane and Charlotte put their full weight against the side of the dresser. It moved an inch at a time. They shoved and shoved and then all of a sudden, the dresser toppled over onto its side, landing just short of the door and in no way blocking it.

“No!” Jane exclaimed.

Thud. A piece of the doorframe went flying across the room.

Jane and Charlotte grabbed hold of each other.

Thud. The top of the door separated from the hinge and then the entire thing fell to the floor. Rochester stood there in silhouette against the light from the corridor.

“I asked you nicely,” he growled.

“You can’t really believe that, can you?” Jane said.

Rochester raised his foot to come toward them, but just then a figure came barreling against his side.

“Alexander!” Charlotte exclaimed.

“Ladies, run!” He huffed from exertion.

Rochester was momentarily stunned by the blow. Jane and Charlotte scrambled past him and sprinted down the corridor, followed by Mr. Blackwood. Moments later, Rochester’s footsteps followed.